Adan
Reviews
Filter & Sort
Detailed
Translated · Show original
When the Concept of "Homeopathy" Enters Perfumery
The concept of homeopathy:
Do you have liver problems? Then take a liver poison, dilute it until practically no active ingredient is left, and take it. That helps with your complaints!
That's probably what the guys at L'Oreal thought too. Although Anne Flipo and Dominique Ropion are both master perfumers who understand their craft, you can tell they were extremely pressured by the marketing department here.
A more intense and longer-lasting L'Homme, similar to how Acqua Di Gio Essenza represents Acqua Di Gio - that would have been really cool.
But instead, you get a diluted 1Million. And who is that for? For people who find 1Million too strong. It's clear that this doesn't even close a market gap; there are now numerous fragrances that are more or less a copy of 1Million, like Versace Eros, Davidoff The Game, even Paco Rabanne himself sells a similar concept with Invictus in a new guise (although I can smell a nice fruity-citrusy accord here that I like, it reminds me of the old AXE Pulse and Biotherm Homme Force).
So, to summarize: take a perfume that is silly, dilute it until it is harmless, call it PARFUM INTENSE, and launch it on the market.
Soon, L'Oreal will find itself on the same low level as Procter & Gamble. Very unfortunate. And another unnecessary release for 2013.
Do you have liver problems? Then take a liver poison, dilute it until practically no active ingredient is left, and take it. That helps with your complaints!
That's probably what the guys at L'Oreal thought too. Although Anne Flipo and Dominique Ropion are both master perfumers who understand their craft, you can tell they were extremely pressured by the marketing department here.
A more intense and longer-lasting L'Homme, similar to how Acqua Di Gio Essenza represents Acqua Di Gio - that would have been really cool.
But instead, you get a diluted 1Million. And who is that for? For people who find 1Million too strong. It's clear that this doesn't even close a market gap; there are now numerous fragrances that are more or less a copy of 1Million, like Versace Eros, Davidoff The Game, even Paco Rabanne himself sells a similar concept with Invictus in a new guise (although I can smell a nice fruity-citrusy accord here that I like, it reminds me of the old AXE Pulse and Biotherm Homme Force).
So, to summarize: take a perfume that is silly, dilute it until it is harmless, call it PARFUM INTENSE, and launch it on the market.
Soon, L'Oreal will find itself on the same low level as Procter & Gamble. Very unfortunate. And another unnecessary release for 2013.
3 Comments
Translated · Show original
Jardin d'Amalfi with Performance
When I wanted to test a Blue Amber at Reza Shari in Mannheim, he happened to not have it available. He told me that Blue Amber along with Soleil De Capri was simply not deliverable because they are among the most sought-after fragrances.
Now I had the opportunity to test both. When I first smelled Soleil De Capri, I was gradually reminded of Light Blue by Dolce & Gabbana. However, Soleil De Capri feels richer, denser, and somehow "juicier" than Light Blue. Therefore, my next thought was "actually, this basically smells like Creed's Jardin d'Amalfi!".
Juicy citrus top notes, probably a combo of bergamot and grapefruit, underlaid with a bit of lemongrass and a musk that reminds one of the scent of skin. I can also detect a nearly homeopathic dose of cardamom that emphasizes the grapefruit aspect.
In principle, it’s a Light Blue on crack. And this is from Montale, meaning monstrous longevity is guaranteed. It really goes so far that I say this is a better Jardin d'Amalfi, because it costs only half as much per ml and has absolutely monstrous performance for a citrus fragrance. I find it at least as spectacular as Light Blue itself.
Of course, it’s somewhat critical to see this, as one could accuse Montale of copying again, but I think an exception can be made here, as it is essentially a Jardin d'Amalfi with resolved issues.
Unlike JdA, you don’t have to reapply SdC every 4 hours. And the mere fact that the Creed doesn’t last as long (which is damn annoying in this price category) simply disqualifies it for me.
And precisely because Jardin d'Amalfi enjoys an absolutely incomprehensible good reputation in various Facebook groups, I want to draw attention to Soleil De Capri.
Now I had the opportunity to test both. When I first smelled Soleil De Capri, I was gradually reminded of Light Blue by Dolce & Gabbana. However, Soleil De Capri feels richer, denser, and somehow "juicier" than Light Blue. Therefore, my next thought was "actually, this basically smells like Creed's Jardin d'Amalfi!".
Juicy citrus top notes, probably a combo of bergamot and grapefruit, underlaid with a bit of lemongrass and a musk that reminds one of the scent of skin. I can also detect a nearly homeopathic dose of cardamom that emphasizes the grapefruit aspect.
In principle, it’s a Light Blue on crack. And this is from Montale, meaning monstrous longevity is guaranteed. It really goes so far that I say this is a better Jardin d'Amalfi, because it costs only half as much per ml and has absolutely monstrous performance for a citrus fragrance. I find it at least as spectacular as Light Blue itself.
Of course, it’s somewhat critical to see this, as one could accuse Montale of copying again, but I think an exception can be made here, as it is essentially a Jardin d'Amalfi with resolved issues.
Unlike JdA, you don’t have to reapply SdC every 4 hours. And the mere fact that the Creed doesn’t last as long (which is damn annoying in this price category) simply disqualifies it for me.
And precisely because Jardin d'Amalfi enjoys an absolutely incomprehensible good reputation in various Facebook groups, I want to draw attention to Soleil De Capri.
3 Comments
Translated · Show original
Dry Autumn Wind
I have never worn L'Air Du Desert Marocain often; I have sold most of my bottle little by little as decants. A sign that I don't need to buy this fragrance again.
Since I find the spray head of the bottle to be quite terrible, I have now transferred this remaining puddle into one of my travel atomizers. And lo and behold, suddenly the scent is magical.
However, one must spend a lot of time with it before they can appreciate it. When I first smelled it, my impression was not very good-very dry cedarwood, incense, with a slight undertone of lavender and coriander.
Lavender and cedarwood, the stuff that effectively keeps moths away from your closet. Not so great as a perfume.
The opening feels dry, lifeless, aggressive, somehow dead. However, if you give the fragrance a few minutes on your skin, it becomes... "more 'alive'."
This scratchy mothball aspect disappears, the incense and wood become softer and more balsamic through the amber, and even vanilla emerges, which synergizes very well with the amber.
This, in turn, comes closer to the image that Andy Tauer himself had in mind. I would refer to the following YouTube video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZ_y6-aUrlA
In any case, LDDM is a very beautiful incense-amber fragrance, brilliant in its composition and quality (only the spray head of the bottle, as mentioned, is not very good; it sometimes feels more like Russian roulette).
In my opinion, it can be worn all year round, even in the hot summer, at least if you adjust the dosage accordingly. But at the same time, it's a fragrance for which I can't immediately think of an occasion.
It is too extraordinary for everyday wear and too extraordinary for going out.
It's simply a fragrance that you wear when you feel like it.
I personally find that relatively rare, but that doesn't change the fact that LDDM is an incredibly good fragrance. I rarely feel like it because I always assume that this scent is too polarizing to be well-received by people.
Nevertheless, I wore it last year when I met up with two friends for coffee. I asked both of them for their opinions, and both said exactly the same thing as my father when I left the house that day:
"That's a good perfume!"
L'Air Du Desert Marocain is a good perfume.
Since I find the spray head of the bottle to be quite terrible, I have now transferred this remaining puddle into one of my travel atomizers. And lo and behold, suddenly the scent is magical.
However, one must spend a lot of time with it before they can appreciate it. When I first smelled it, my impression was not very good-very dry cedarwood, incense, with a slight undertone of lavender and coriander.
Lavender and cedarwood, the stuff that effectively keeps moths away from your closet. Not so great as a perfume.
The opening feels dry, lifeless, aggressive, somehow dead. However, if you give the fragrance a few minutes on your skin, it becomes... "more 'alive'."
This scratchy mothball aspect disappears, the incense and wood become softer and more balsamic through the amber, and even vanilla emerges, which synergizes very well with the amber.
This, in turn, comes closer to the image that Andy Tauer himself had in mind. I would refer to the following YouTube video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZ_y6-aUrlA
In any case, LDDM is a very beautiful incense-amber fragrance, brilliant in its composition and quality (only the spray head of the bottle, as mentioned, is not very good; it sometimes feels more like Russian roulette).
In my opinion, it can be worn all year round, even in the hot summer, at least if you adjust the dosage accordingly. But at the same time, it's a fragrance for which I can't immediately think of an occasion.
It is too extraordinary for everyday wear and too extraordinary for going out.
It's simply a fragrance that you wear when you feel like it.
I personally find that relatively rare, but that doesn't change the fact that LDDM is an incredibly good fragrance. I rarely feel like it because I always assume that this scent is too polarizing to be well-received by people.
Nevertheless, I wore it last year when I met up with two friends for coffee. I asked both of them for their opinions, and both said exactly the same thing as my father when I left the house that day:
"That's a good perfume!"
L'Air Du Desert Marocain is a good perfume.
5 Comments
Translated · Show original
The Royal-Imperial Barbershop Revisited
I just had a drink yesterday that prompted me to delete my old comment on Invasion Barbare and rewrite it.
I still think that Invasion Barbare, as a sweet-spicy and slightly woody fragrance, might experience a hype or be better received in the future, as the trend is definitely leaning towards sweet-spicy-woody scents with fragrances like La Nuit de L'Homme and Spicebomb.
That Invasion Barbare is essentially a fresh lavender-vanilla combination, I have mentioned before, and that also defines its fougere character for me. But in principle, I can clearly detect everything listed in the fragrance pyramid. Surprisingly, I do not perceive cardamom as such, because in many fragrances, cardamom tends to remind me of sweat. I think Invasion Barbare benefits the most from the interplay of cardamom and ginger.
However, one should not imagine a fresh-sparkling ginger here, like in Dior Homme Sport, but rather a sharp ginger.
Apicius wrote in a forum thread about fougeres - and I believe also in his contribution to Sartorial - that a fougere must somehow also "hurt".
From this perspective, I mentioned Invasion Barbare because it makes me cough when I spray it fresh.
Apicius then suggested it might just be an intolerance on my part. However, I now consider that nonsense, as I have complete trust in my immune system.
I am now sure that it is due to the ginger. A spicy and sharp ginger, somewhat buffered by cardamom, which gives this fougere quite a bit of power and, together with the musk, forms a damn solid backbone.
Invasion Barbare itself lasts a minimum of 12 hours on my skin; it is by far the most reliable perfume in my collection, and it consistently leaves a scent trail, so it’s not like it dries down to a skin scent.
I am sure of this because yesterday's drink triggered the same coughing sensation in me: a Thomas Henry Spicy Ginger Ale. I get this coughing sensation when the carbonation transports the ginger aroma into my nose, meaning I just shouldn't breathe in through my nose while drinking.
Yes, Invasion Barbare has something of ginger ale.
Initially sparkling and refreshing, then spicy and warming. And perhaps initially too sharp for some people. ;)
Because Invasion Barbare is fresh, spicy, slightly sweet, and woody (due to the cedarwood, it also develops a slightly smoky aspect after prolonged wear), it can be worn at any time, for any occasion, and with any dress code.
There aren’t many fragrances that I think this about, but Invasion Barbare is for me the perfect signature scent. A fragrance I could commit to for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever received compliments for it, but that doesn’t matter in this case; I can smell it from 7:00 AM to 10:00 PM, even on the 5th day in a row - Invasion Barbare never lets me down.
It has fundamentally changed my definition of "quality". And for me, it is the king of all fougeres.
I still think that Invasion Barbare, as a sweet-spicy and slightly woody fragrance, might experience a hype or be better received in the future, as the trend is definitely leaning towards sweet-spicy-woody scents with fragrances like La Nuit de L'Homme and Spicebomb.
That Invasion Barbare is essentially a fresh lavender-vanilla combination, I have mentioned before, and that also defines its fougere character for me. But in principle, I can clearly detect everything listed in the fragrance pyramid. Surprisingly, I do not perceive cardamom as such, because in many fragrances, cardamom tends to remind me of sweat. I think Invasion Barbare benefits the most from the interplay of cardamom and ginger.
However, one should not imagine a fresh-sparkling ginger here, like in Dior Homme Sport, but rather a sharp ginger.
Apicius wrote in a forum thread about fougeres - and I believe also in his contribution to Sartorial - that a fougere must somehow also "hurt".
From this perspective, I mentioned Invasion Barbare because it makes me cough when I spray it fresh.
Apicius then suggested it might just be an intolerance on my part. However, I now consider that nonsense, as I have complete trust in my immune system.
I am now sure that it is due to the ginger. A spicy and sharp ginger, somewhat buffered by cardamom, which gives this fougere quite a bit of power and, together with the musk, forms a damn solid backbone.
Invasion Barbare itself lasts a minimum of 12 hours on my skin; it is by far the most reliable perfume in my collection, and it consistently leaves a scent trail, so it’s not like it dries down to a skin scent.
I am sure of this because yesterday's drink triggered the same coughing sensation in me: a Thomas Henry Spicy Ginger Ale. I get this coughing sensation when the carbonation transports the ginger aroma into my nose, meaning I just shouldn't breathe in through my nose while drinking.
Yes, Invasion Barbare has something of ginger ale.
Initially sparkling and refreshing, then spicy and warming. And perhaps initially too sharp for some people. ;)
Because Invasion Barbare is fresh, spicy, slightly sweet, and woody (due to the cedarwood, it also develops a slightly smoky aspect after prolonged wear), it can be worn at any time, for any occasion, and with any dress code.
There aren’t many fragrances that I think this about, but Invasion Barbare is for me the perfect signature scent. A fragrance I could commit to for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever received compliments for it, but that doesn’t matter in this case; I can smell it from 7:00 AM to 10:00 PM, even on the 5th day in a row - Invasion Barbare never lets me down.
It has fundamentally changed my definition of "quality". And for me, it is the king of all fougeres.
8 Comments
Translated · Show original
"...that's DIOR HOMME, not DIOR HOMIE!"
Yes, even Kanye West seems to be totally into Dior Homme (the quote comes from his track "Devil in a New Dress").
Dior Homme has become a loyal companion. It is a different definition of "man." Metrosexual, clean-shaven, well-groomed, little body hair, always elegantly and casually dressed. Because Dior Homme is a very sweet fragrance with slightly feminine facets, one could also interpret that Dior Homme represents the image of a man who is always expanding his horizons and can embrace new ideas, open to the world.
So, what does Dior Homme smell like? Definitely sweet, with vanilla being the main substance on which everything is built. A slight hint of lavender can be sensed, but due to the combination with vanilla, lavender is perceived here more like a small touch of "barbershop."
It gets interesting when you focus on the iris, cocoa, as well as leather and vetiver.
For the iris gives the vanilla a floral-creamy character, perhaps also a slightly waxy accord that reminds one of lipstick and/or crayon (here I often feel reminded of Dior's "Bois d'Argent" from the La Collection Privee). In the old version of Dior Homme, the balance was different; a bit more iris was used than in the current formula, which led to Dior Homme - at least for my nose - having a slight hint of fizzy powder.
This danger is banished here by cocoa. At the same time, cocoa gives the vanilla a drier character, roughening it up a bit and making it "more masculine."
The rough facet is intensified by a small hint of leather and especially vetiver, as both leather and vetiver often have smoky characteristics.
Thus, in Dior Homme, you get an excellent, subtle contrast program again between vanilla, iris, lavender (sweet, slightly floral, delicate, soft, "feminine") and leather, vetiver, and cocoa (green, rough, somewhat dusty, "masculine").
Yet despite this contrast, Dior Homme feels like a single functional unit, smooth and, yes, elegant indeed.
I just find it a pity that Francois Demachy is listed as the perfumer and not Olivier Polge. Although I assume that Polge handed the formula over to Demachy to continue working on it, because I think the reformulation of Dior Homme has become damn precise; the fragrance has become more mainstream-friendly by balancing the iris with cocoa without losing any character or contrast.
How brilliant Dior Homme actually is - and what a high status it holds for "men's fragrances" - is also shown in an interview with Bertrand Duchaufour, also a damn talented perfumer with a good touch for everything that is opulent (JubXXV and Chypre Palatin, for example):
Which fragrance, besides your own, do you wish you had created?
Bertrand Duchaufour: There is only one: Dior Homme by Olivier Polge.
Source: http://www.fragrantica.com/news/Inside-the-Creative-Mind-Of-Rockstar-Perfumer-Bertrand-Duchaufour-976.html
The performance of Dior Homme is good, the scent trail you leave behind is very pleasant, and the longevity is decent, around 6-7 hours, sometimes even 8 if I'm lucky (or if I haven't worn it for a longer time and can therefore perceive it longer).
Dior Homme has become a loyal companion. It is a different definition of "man." Metrosexual, clean-shaven, well-groomed, little body hair, always elegantly and casually dressed. Because Dior Homme is a very sweet fragrance with slightly feminine facets, one could also interpret that Dior Homme represents the image of a man who is always expanding his horizons and can embrace new ideas, open to the world.
So, what does Dior Homme smell like? Definitely sweet, with vanilla being the main substance on which everything is built. A slight hint of lavender can be sensed, but due to the combination with vanilla, lavender is perceived here more like a small touch of "barbershop."
It gets interesting when you focus on the iris, cocoa, as well as leather and vetiver.
For the iris gives the vanilla a floral-creamy character, perhaps also a slightly waxy accord that reminds one of lipstick and/or crayon (here I often feel reminded of Dior's "Bois d'Argent" from the La Collection Privee). In the old version of Dior Homme, the balance was different; a bit more iris was used than in the current formula, which led to Dior Homme - at least for my nose - having a slight hint of fizzy powder.
This danger is banished here by cocoa. At the same time, cocoa gives the vanilla a drier character, roughening it up a bit and making it "more masculine."
The rough facet is intensified by a small hint of leather and especially vetiver, as both leather and vetiver often have smoky characteristics.
Thus, in Dior Homme, you get an excellent, subtle contrast program again between vanilla, iris, lavender (sweet, slightly floral, delicate, soft, "feminine") and leather, vetiver, and cocoa (green, rough, somewhat dusty, "masculine").
Yet despite this contrast, Dior Homme feels like a single functional unit, smooth and, yes, elegant indeed.
I just find it a pity that Francois Demachy is listed as the perfumer and not Olivier Polge. Although I assume that Polge handed the formula over to Demachy to continue working on it, because I think the reformulation of Dior Homme has become damn precise; the fragrance has become more mainstream-friendly by balancing the iris with cocoa without losing any character or contrast.
How brilliant Dior Homme actually is - and what a high status it holds for "men's fragrances" - is also shown in an interview with Bertrand Duchaufour, also a damn talented perfumer with a good touch for everything that is opulent (JubXXV and Chypre Palatin, for example):
Which fragrance, besides your own, do you wish you had created?
Bertrand Duchaufour: There is only one: Dior Homme by Olivier Polge.
Source: http://www.fragrantica.com/news/Inside-the-Creative-Mind-Of-Rockstar-Perfumer-Bertrand-Duchaufour-976.html
The performance of Dior Homme is good, the scent trail you leave behind is very pleasant, and the longevity is decent, around 6-7 hours, sometimes even 8 if I'm lucky (or if I haven't worn it for a longer time and can therefore perceive it longer).
11 Comments
