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Middle East meets Western Cologne.
Oud had already made its entry into perfumes with M7, but the real Oud boom seems to have only come in recent years, as more and more Western and Middle Eastern cultures mix, especially in London.
The use of Oud in modern perfumery is likely a result of this.
Roja Dove reported that we Europeans - including himself - cannot imagine how important it is for Arabs to perfume themselves. On one hand with Oud - by smudging themselves with the smoke of agarwood - and on the other hand, additionally spraying perfumes (and I bet in his high-end perfumery "Urban Retreat" in Harrods, wealthy Arabs are constantly coming and going, which is where he got this impression).
But this collision of two "perfume cultures," the Western and Middle Eastern, I have not been able to perceive in any perfume as I can in Acqua Di Parma's Oud fragrance.
At first, I thought, "Great, Acqua Di Parma is now making an Oud fragrance, how commercial is that...".
But I must say, it has turned out well. What I smell in Acqua Di Parma Oud is, on one hand, this base that resembles Colonia Intensa (according to Luca Turin, Jean Claude Ellena and another renowned perfumer are behind it, which is complemented). Fresh, citrusy (a bit further away from the classic, neroli-based Cologne structure, but still somewhat generic), slightly leathery.
Especially Amyris seems to be a very powerful ingredient, fresh and woody, but somehow also generically smelling of "men's fragrance." A bit like Coumarin, which defined "men's fragrance" for several decades.
That's probably why I feel that Amyris from Maison Francis Kurkdjian somehow smells like YSL L'Homme. A mainstream men's fragrance, good but not great.
In Acqua Di Parma Oud, I find exactly that, albeit buried under Oud. The Oud is just as I imagine it: woody, soft, balsamic, pleasing to the nose.
And coriander helps these two contrasts to become a functional unit.
Oud here acts - as described by Roja Dove - like the base that holds this Cologne together and completely saves the generic aspect.
In this way, there is a damn good contrast program here. And I like perfumes with contrast.
As for the performance, I must say that AdP Oud is incredibly long-lasting.
I have tested it several times, but a lady at the Kurfürstenparfümerie once gave me a proper spray on the wrist. I could still see the oil film on my wrist for another 2 hours. My sweater also got some of it and even after washing still smelled of it. Even the bracelet of my watch held the scent for a whole week. The performance is beastly. And I personally find the scent very masculine and innovative.
In case I have just written some nonsense (that I'm writing this comment in this heat instead of lying by the lake is generally pretty dumb), here is the link to Roja Dove's "interview" about Oud: http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/video/2010/aug/05/perfume-luxury
And Acqua Di Parma Oud essentially conveys to me exactly what Roja Dove shares in this video. And every spray of AdP Oud is for me just like watching this video again.
Enjoy!
The use of Oud in modern perfumery is likely a result of this.
Roja Dove reported that we Europeans - including himself - cannot imagine how important it is for Arabs to perfume themselves. On one hand with Oud - by smudging themselves with the smoke of agarwood - and on the other hand, additionally spraying perfumes (and I bet in his high-end perfumery "Urban Retreat" in Harrods, wealthy Arabs are constantly coming and going, which is where he got this impression).
But this collision of two "perfume cultures," the Western and Middle Eastern, I have not been able to perceive in any perfume as I can in Acqua Di Parma's Oud fragrance.
At first, I thought, "Great, Acqua Di Parma is now making an Oud fragrance, how commercial is that...".
But I must say, it has turned out well. What I smell in Acqua Di Parma Oud is, on one hand, this base that resembles Colonia Intensa (according to Luca Turin, Jean Claude Ellena and another renowned perfumer are behind it, which is complemented). Fresh, citrusy (a bit further away from the classic, neroli-based Cologne structure, but still somewhat generic), slightly leathery.
Especially Amyris seems to be a very powerful ingredient, fresh and woody, but somehow also generically smelling of "men's fragrance." A bit like Coumarin, which defined "men's fragrance" for several decades.
That's probably why I feel that Amyris from Maison Francis Kurkdjian somehow smells like YSL L'Homme. A mainstream men's fragrance, good but not great.
In Acqua Di Parma Oud, I find exactly that, albeit buried under Oud. The Oud is just as I imagine it: woody, soft, balsamic, pleasing to the nose.
And coriander helps these two contrasts to become a functional unit.
Oud here acts - as described by Roja Dove - like the base that holds this Cologne together and completely saves the generic aspect.
In this way, there is a damn good contrast program here. And I like perfumes with contrast.
As for the performance, I must say that AdP Oud is incredibly long-lasting.
I have tested it several times, but a lady at the Kurfürstenparfümerie once gave me a proper spray on the wrist. I could still see the oil film on my wrist for another 2 hours. My sweater also got some of it and even after washing still smelled of it. Even the bracelet of my watch held the scent for a whole week. The performance is beastly. And I personally find the scent very masculine and innovative.
In case I have just written some nonsense (that I'm writing this comment in this heat instead of lying by the lake is generally pretty dumb), here is the link to Roja Dove's "interview" about Oud: http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/video/2010/aug/05/perfume-luxury
And Acqua Di Parma Oud essentially conveys to me exactly what Roja Dove shares in this video. And every spray of AdP Oud is for me just like watching this video again.
Enjoy!
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Fortunately, you can't get diabetes from this.
After I have now left a comment on Pure Leather and Pure Malt, Pure Havane is also due.
A sure way to start a kind of religious war in a perfume forum is simply to ask: "Pure Malt or Pure Havane?".
Personally, I lean more towards Pure Malt. The reason is that I discovered Pure Havane for the first time a few years ago in the summer at a Marionnaud in Strasbourg, where a lonely tester was just sitting there, even though Pure Havane was off the market at that time.
What hits you right at the beginning is a pretty intense sweetness, based on honey and partly a cherry-like aroma.
This sweetness immediately reminds me of La Petite Robe Noire by Guerlain or Serge Lutens' "Louve". I don't find that really bad, but it is very unusual to find such a sweetness in a perfume that is primarily marketed towards men.
I can only tolerate this note on good days. If I could hold my breath for 15 minutes to consistently get past this sweetness, I might even reach for Pure Havane more often than for Pure Malt.
The drydown, on the other hand, is very bearable and even comes across as quite masculine; there is a clear relationship to Pure Malt, minus the malt-CO2 (which smells like malt and somehow conveys a kind of roasted aroma) and instead with honey and tobacco, both at absolutely the same level.
The only "mistake" I made was discovering Pure Havane before Pure Malt.
In comparison to Pure Malt, Pure Havane has a real progression while Pure Malt remains quite linear. Therefore, it may be the more interesting scent for some people. Nevertheless, they smell relatively similar at their core, which shouldn't be too surprising, as Pure Havane was originally intended as a flanker to Pure Malt. The idea behind Pure Havane was to create a better Pure Malt.
You can also tell that Pure Havane does not belong to any series.
Pure Malt belongs to the Liqueur de Parfum series,
Pure Chili/Taste of Fragrance to the Taste of Fragrance series,
Pure Leather to the Parfums de Cuir.
And each of these series also has offshoots of Alien, Angel, and Womanity.
Pure Havane, on the other hand, simply cannot be classified or assigned.
But: since Pure Havane is very sweet, it can easily be worn by women.
Because although the theme of Pure Havane actually revolves around expensive cigars (which implies that it is intended for men, as at least I don't know any women who smoke cigars), this is not a scent that immediately makes me think of Tony Montana.
Pure Havane has no sharp edges, nothing scratchy or unpleasant, but is sweet, warm, and enveloping throughout.
People who love sweet things above all will choose Pure Havane over Pure Malt.
But it is indeed the opening for which Pure Havane receives deductions from me, as it feels rushed and thoughtless. It reminds me of my federal youth games during the 6th grade in school: sprinting right at the starting gun in the 1km run to gain an advantage, but forgetting that you still have 800m to run. Of course, I eventually fell apart (especially because the thought was so burdensome).
In the end, I did make it to the finish line and then relaxed for a bit.
In that respect, I should actually give Pure Havane a damn good review, because it is also contrasting:
Between feminine and masculine, and order and disorder.
But as noted in the title: If I get the feeling that this initial sweetness could give me diabetes, that's a bit too much.
However, that makes it absolutely perfect for club/disco/bar hopping and similar activities. ;D
All in all, a solid fragrance from Thierry Mugler that I would definitely recommend. Therefore, 4 stars (equivalent to 80% obv.).
A sure way to start a kind of religious war in a perfume forum is simply to ask: "Pure Malt or Pure Havane?".
Personally, I lean more towards Pure Malt. The reason is that I discovered Pure Havane for the first time a few years ago in the summer at a Marionnaud in Strasbourg, where a lonely tester was just sitting there, even though Pure Havane was off the market at that time.
What hits you right at the beginning is a pretty intense sweetness, based on honey and partly a cherry-like aroma.
This sweetness immediately reminds me of La Petite Robe Noire by Guerlain or Serge Lutens' "Louve". I don't find that really bad, but it is very unusual to find such a sweetness in a perfume that is primarily marketed towards men.
I can only tolerate this note on good days. If I could hold my breath for 15 minutes to consistently get past this sweetness, I might even reach for Pure Havane more often than for Pure Malt.
The drydown, on the other hand, is very bearable and even comes across as quite masculine; there is a clear relationship to Pure Malt, minus the malt-CO2 (which smells like malt and somehow conveys a kind of roasted aroma) and instead with honey and tobacco, both at absolutely the same level.
The only "mistake" I made was discovering Pure Havane before Pure Malt.
In comparison to Pure Malt, Pure Havane has a real progression while Pure Malt remains quite linear. Therefore, it may be the more interesting scent for some people. Nevertheless, they smell relatively similar at their core, which shouldn't be too surprising, as Pure Havane was originally intended as a flanker to Pure Malt. The idea behind Pure Havane was to create a better Pure Malt.
You can also tell that Pure Havane does not belong to any series.
Pure Malt belongs to the Liqueur de Parfum series,
Pure Chili/Taste of Fragrance to the Taste of Fragrance series,
Pure Leather to the Parfums de Cuir.
And each of these series also has offshoots of Alien, Angel, and Womanity.
Pure Havane, on the other hand, simply cannot be classified or assigned.
But: since Pure Havane is very sweet, it can easily be worn by women.
Because although the theme of Pure Havane actually revolves around expensive cigars (which implies that it is intended for men, as at least I don't know any women who smoke cigars), this is not a scent that immediately makes me think of Tony Montana.
Pure Havane has no sharp edges, nothing scratchy or unpleasant, but is sweet, warm, and enveloping throughout.
People who love sweet things above all will choose Pure Havane over Pure Malt.
But it is indeed the opening for which Pure Havane receives deductions from me, as it feels rushed and thoughtless. It reminds me of my federal youth games during the 6th grade in school: sprinting right at the starting gun in the 1km run to gain an advantage, but forgetting that you still have 800m to run. Of course, I eventually fell apart (especially because the thought was so burdensome).
In the end, I did make it to the finish line and then relaxed for a bit.
In that respect, I should actually give Pure Havane a damn good review, because it is also contrasting:
Between feminine and masculine, and order and disorder.
But as noted in the title: If I get the feeling that this initial sweetness could give me diabetes, that's a bit too much.
However, that makes it absolutely perfect for club/disco/bar hopping and similar activities. ;D
All in all, a solid fragrance from Thierry Mugler that I would definitely recommend. Therefore, 4 stars (equivalent to 80% obv.).
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"How do you spell opulence?" - "C-H-Y-P-R-E P-A-L-A-T-I-N!!!"
It's a shame that Chypre Palatin has fallen in the perfume rankings towards the end. I believe it is a masterpiece.
Chypre Palatin immediately reminds me of 3 great Guerlain legends at once: Mitsouko, Shalimar, and L'Heure Bleue.
The top note reminds me directly of Mitsouko. Floral and aldehydic, slightly scratchy yet somehow airy light (which is what aldehydes tend to do in perfumes and what people in general seem to struggle with). I can't identify other key components; the top notes of Mitsouko and L'Heure Bleue both come across as floral, slightly scratchy, and dusty dry.
Additionally, I can detect the lipstick accord boosted by leather, which reminds me of those found in Shalimar and Dior Homme Intense. However, due to the leather, it is much closer to that of Shalimar. Iris, rose, leather, and a bit of castoreum seem to be the key components here.
Now and then, I catch a hint of desert air in Chypre Palatin that I believe I recognize from L'Heure Bleue.
These are the 3 elements in CP that remind me of the aforementioned Guerlain trio. And although Chypre Palatin immediately brings to mind 3 major women's fragrances, it has somehow been created in a way that makes it easily wearable by men.
In my opinion, the sweet-warm base (vanilla, castoreum, balsamic woods) and the oakmoss contribute to this. The note of oakmoss reminds me of that in Kouros. Strong, crystal clear, and long-lasting. Even after taking a shower.
Chypre Palatin is full of contrast from start to finish:
It feels opulent, yet at the same time airy light.
It comes across as quite sweet and enveloping due to its base, yet also crystal clear and clean because of the oakmoss.
It feels aggressive, yet somehow also elevated and untouchable.
Moreover, I think Profumo has made a bit of an understatement when they started talking about the oakmoss extract - low atranol.
Chypre Palatin is proof that through technical innovation, it will always be possible to keep various perfumes and genres alive.
Therefore, I can only give Chypre Palatin 100% - and this despite my limited knowledge of the Chypre genre itself.
A contrasting and rich composition, incredibly good performance (longevity: forever, scent trail: always present, never overwhelming) AND technical innovation at the level of its raw materials.
World-class.
Chypre Palatin immediately reminds me of 3 great Guerlain legends at once: Mitsouko, Shalimar, and L'Heure Bleue.
The top note reminds me directly of Mitsouko. Floral and aldehydic, slightly scratchy yet somehow airy light (which is what aldehydes tend to do in perfumes and what people in general seem to struggle with). I can't identify other key components; the top notes of Mitsouko and L'Heure Bleue both come across as floral, slightly scratchy, and dusty dry.
Additionally, I can detect the lipstick accord boosted by leather, which reminds me of those found in Shalimar and Dior Homme Intense. However, due to the leather, it is much closer to that of Shalimar. Iris, rose, leather, and a bit of castoreum seem to be the key components here.
Now and then, I catch a hint of desert air in Chypre Palatin that I believe I recognize from L'Heure Bleue.
These are the 3 elements in CP that remind me of the aforementioned Guerlain trio. And although Chypre Palatin immediately brings to mind 3 major women's fragrances, it has somehow been created in a way that makes it easily wearable by men.
In my opinion, the sweet-warm base (vanilla, castoreum, balsamic woods) and the oakmoss contribute to this. The note of oakmoss reminds me of that in Kouros. Strong, crystal clear, and long-lasting. Even after taking a shower.
Chypre Palatin is full of contrast from start to finish:
It feels opulent, yet at the same time airy light.
It comes across as quite sweet and enveloping due to its base, yet also crystal clear and clean because of the oakmoss.
It feels aggressive, yet somehow also elevated and untouchable.
Moreover, I think Profumo has made a bit of an understatement when they started talking about the oakmoss extract - low atranol.
Chypre Palatin is proof that through technical innovation, it will always be possible to keep various perfumes and genres alive.
Therefore, I can only give Chypre Palatin 100% - and this despite my limited knowledge of the Chypre genre itself.
A contrasting and rich composition, incredibly good performance (longevity: forever, scent trail: always present, never overwhelming) AND technical innovation at the level of its raw materials.
World-class.
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A*Men Brewmaster Edition
Anyone who spends a lot of time browsing YouTube and watching all the reviews from the last few years (around 2009-2011) will know that Pure Malt had an almost godlike status regarding its popularity among the YouTube fragrance community.
That people were willing to shell out three-digit amounts is even more of a sign that Pure Malt can't be that bad.
When I smelled it for the first time, I was satisfied. My expectations for this fragrance were met: it smells sweet, warm, pleasant, and somehow still unmistakably masculine (which must be due to the cedarwood).
Pure Malt smells sweet; one might think it’s vanilla, but somehow it’s not quite vanilla. Added to this are patchouli and malt. The Thierry Mugler patchouli in the A*Men is not typical patchouli; it is very subtle and kept in the background, just perceptible enough to create that Mugler signature. I absolutely cannot describe exactly how it smells, but anyone who takes the time, patience, and a cleaned nose to carefully sniff through the A*Men series will recognize even in Pure Shot that there is a strange note in it.
Personally, it somehow reminds me of the smell of freshly baked farmhouse bread. That sounds a bit perverse, but it is really very subtle and even more beautiful in Pure Malt due to the malt.
Because malt, in turn, smells... malty. For me, malt smells a bit like a roasted aroma. In a malty beer, you can really taste the grain from which the beer was brewed. And it is also the malt extract that gives this Eichbaum Brewmaster lemonade that beer vibe, that slight taste of roasted grain in the finish.
At the same time, the malt and the coffee absolute probably create that caramel-like note in Pure Malt.
What is still missing now is the whiskey. It is there too, but only detectable in the first 5-10 minutes. It gives the whole thing an alcoholic touch. The opening reminds me a bit of sugar that you caramelize by flambéing it with Grand Marnier (and before anyone says anything: yes, Grand Marnier is not whiskey, that is absolutely correct).
The whiskey only adds a rather alcoholic hint, slightly piercing and aromatic, which, similar to flambéing, disappears relatively quickly. This alcoholic element is the only edge/corner that Pure Malt has. But not for long. After that, everything is warm and inviting.
One might think that the progression of Pure Malt works like drinking whiskey: it burns and scratches harshly in the throat for a few seconds, but a little later, you feel warm at heart and everything seems inviting.
As for performance, meaning longevity and sillage, it is not as enduring and loud as the real A*Men, but still damn good. 12 hours and a continuous sweet and warm aura around you that doesn’t overwhelm anyone.
Pure Malt is not a masterpiece for me, but it is undoubtedly of very good quality and smells damn good. My girlfriend loves it to bits; she has an even higher opinion of Pure Malt than I do.
Moreover, you can actually wear it anytime and anywhere; it only starts to become uncomfortable at temperatures above 25°C.
Above all, Pure Malt has probably never been released in Germany; it is a great tip if you want to smell unique in a club/disco or similar.
That people were willing to shell out three-digit amounts is even more of a sign that Pure Malt can't be that bad.
When I smelled it for the first time, I was satisfied. My expectations for this fragrance were met: it smells sweet, warm, pleasant, and somehow still unmistakably masculine (which must be due to the cedarwood).
Pure Malt smells sweet; one might think it’s vanilla, but somehow it’s not quite vanilla. Added to this are patchouli and malt. The Thierry Mugler patchouli in the A*Men is not typical patchouli; it is very subtle and kept in the background, just perceptible enough to create that Mugler signature. I absolutely cannot describe exactly how it smells, but anyone who takes the time, patience, and a cleaned nose to carefully sniff through the A*Men series will recognize even in Pure Shot that there is a strange note in it.
Personally, it somehow reminds me of the smell of freshly baked farmhouse bread. That sounds a bit perverse, but it is really very subtle and even more beautiful in Pure Malt due to the malt.
Because malt, in turn, smells... malty. For me, malt smells a bit like a roasted aroma. In a malty beer, you can really taste the grain from which the beer was brewed. And it is also the malt extract that gives this Eichbaum Brewmaster lemonade that beer vibe, that slight taste of roasted grain in the finish.
At the same time, the malt and the coffee absolute probably create that caramel-like note in Pure Malt.
What is still missing now is the whiskey. It is there too, but only detectable in the first 5-10 minutes. It gives the whole thing an alcoholic touch. The opening reminds me a bit of sugar that you caramelize by flambéing it with Grand Marnier (and before anyone says anything: yes, Grand Marnier is not whiskey, that is absolutely correct).
The whiskey only adds a rather alcoholic hint, slightly piercing and aromatic, which, similar to flambéing, disappears relatively quickly. This alcoholic element is the only edge/corner that Pure Malt has. But not for long. After that, everything is warm and inviting.
One might think that the progression of Pure Malt works like drinking whiskey: it burns and scratches harshly in the throat for a few seconds, but a little later, you feel warm at heart and everything seems inviting.
As for performance, meaning longevity and sillage, it is not as enduring and loud as the real A*Men, but still damn good. 12 hours and a continuous sweet and warm aura around you that doesn’t overwhelm anyone.
Pure Malt is not a masterpiece for me, but it is undoubtedly of very good quality and smells damn good. My girlfriend loves it to bits; she has an even higher opinion of Pure Malt than I do.
Moreover, you can actually wear it anytime and anywhere; it only starts to become uncomfortable at temperatures above 25°C.
Above all, Pure Malt has probably never been released in Germany; it is a great tip if you want to smell unique in a club/disco or similar.
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Spicy Orange
When looking at the men's fragrances from MDCI Paris - there are officially 3 (as of April 2013) - Ambre Topkapi seems to exist in the shadow of Invasion Barbare.
I also have a suspicion as to why AT is not as popular as Invasion Barbare, but more on that later.
What does Ambre Topkapi smell like?
At first, you can smell a decent dose of Dihydromyrcenol. It is a very characteristic citrus note, I would describe it as fresh, citrusy, somewhat sweet, and maybe even slightly powdery.
This citrus note can also be found immediately in the top note of Chanel Allure Homme and also in Cool Water.
The base of amber, musk, and vanilla gives this citrus scent a richness, making this orange-like fragrance richer (especially since musk and amber in combination are said to smell like human skin).
However, what might disturb most people in AT are the spices. I think it has to do with the entire heart note, as AT contains a very spicy accord; some people say it smells like sweat.
I can agree with that, it was the first thing I noticed about AT after that extremely fresh, zesty start. I am sure that cardamom is also included here.
And indeed, the note breakdown on the MDCI Paris website confirms this:
"Bergamot, grapefruit, pineapple, melon, cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, ginger, basil, thyme and lavender"
On my skin, however, this spiciness is absolutely within limits; not even I (and I have my nose closest to the source of the scent) find it unpleasant or too sweaty. On the contrary, I envision juicy oranges and grapefruit sweating together in 38°C heat under the blazing sun, exuding their essential oils and traces of cumin.
My girlfriend described it as follows: Smells like having sweated all day and then covered up with fresh deodorant. (Note: From a distance, she does not perceive it as sweaty).
But that is precisely what I find extremely interesting about this fragrance.
This spiciness is subtle and underlying; smelling it has an intimate quality, like catching a whiff of someone's body odor whom you've had your eye on for a long time (such a light hint of body odor from a hot girl certainly stimulates the imagination).
There is a different contrast between clean (freshly showered) and dirty (having sweated all day), both in absolutely tolerable measures. When I smelled Ambre Topkapi, I thought to myself: "This will be my Bigarade Concentree!"
For me personally, Ambre Topkapi is the more interesting fragrance compared to Invasion Barbare, although it does not perform as well as IB. On me, AT lasts about 8-10 hours, leaving a nice scent trail in which AT will only be perceived as a rich citrus scent.
And similar to Batucada by L'Artisan, I find that AT reaches its zenith in the height of summer: at 38°C heat and blazing sun!
Anyone who likes Jean Claude Ellena's Bigarade Concentree and/or Declaration by Cartier should definitely try Ambre Topkapi, but those who are sensitive to scents that have any hints of body odor, sweat, or old skin... well, they should still test it. :)
I also have a suspicion as to why AT is not as popular as Invasion Barbare, but more on that later.
What does Ambre Topkapi smell like?
At first, you can smell a decent dose of Dihydromyrcenol. It is a very characteristic citrus note, I would describe it as fresh, citrusy, somewhat sweet, and maybe even slightly powdery.
This citrus note can also be found immediately in the top note of Chanel Allure Homme and also in Cool Water.
The base of amber, musk, and vanilla gives this citrus scent a richness, making this orange-like fragrance richer (especially since musk and amber in combination are said to smell like human skin).
However, what might disturb most people in AT are the spices. I think it has to do with the entire heart note, as AT contains a very spicy accord; some people say it smells like sweat.
I can agree with that, it was the first thing I noticed about AT after that extremely fresh, zesty start. I am sure that cardamom is also included here.
And indeed, the note breakdown on the MDCI Paris website confirms this:
"Bergamot, grapefruit, pineapple, melon, cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, ginger, basil, thyme and lavender"
On my skin, however, this spiciness is absolutely within limits; not even I (and I have my nose closest to the source of the scent) find it unpleasant or too sweaty. On the contrary, I envision juicy oranges and grapefruit sweating together in 38°C heat under the blazing sun, exuding their essential oils and traces of cumin.
My girlfriend described it as follows: Smells like having sweated all day and then covered up with fresh deodorant. (Note: From a distance, she does not perceive it as sweaty).
But that is precisely what I find extremely interesting about this fragrance.
This spiciness is subtle and underlying; smelling it has an intimate quality, like catching a whiff of someone's body odor whom you've had your eye on for a long time (such a light hint of body odor from a hot girl certainly stimulates the imagination).
There is a different contrast between clean (freshly showered) and dirty (having sweated all day), both in absolutely tolerable measures. When I smelled Ambre Topkapi, I thought to myself: "This will be my Bigarade Concentree!"
For me personally, Ambre Topkapi is the more interesting fragrance compared to Invasion Barbare, although it does not perform as well as IB. On me, AT lasts about 8-10 hours, leaving a nice scent trail in which AT will only be perceived as a rich citrus scent.
And similar to Batucada by L'Artisan, I find that AT reaches its zenith in the height of summer: at 38°C heat and blazing sun!
Anyone who likes Jean Claude Ellena's Bigarade Concentree and/or Declaration by Cartier should definitely try Ambre Topkapi, but those who are sensitive to scents that have any hints of body odor, sweat, or old skin... well, they should still test it. :)
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