Aliana

The company M.Asam produces wonderfully compatible cosmetics made in Germany, and the couple does not consider themselves perfumers.
However, they recognized some time ago that many women who love a particular skincare line would also like to have the scent as a perfume. Thus, they have launched an exact or very similar fragrance for almost every one of their lines. The No.1 is said to be legendary among die-hard fans (I am not one of them). There are also seasonal fragrances and some, like this one, that belong to limited skincare series.

What can be said about this type of perfume and this one in particular?
One smells well-groomed, soft and elegant, floral (which is actually not my thing at all, especially not on myself) and a bit sexy, but just a bit, almost unconsciously and not intentionally ;)
In my understanding, the perfume is almost too floral-sweet, but something in it holds back the sweetness just before it could become vulgar. After about half an hour, the scent takes a break. There are some fruits in it that can also be smelled at the beginning, but when the flowers fade, the fruits feel a bit lonely. Then after another half hour, the scent has warmed up and something wonderfully comforting and cuddly emerges, although it does not lose any elegance; on the contrary, the longer it lasts, the more I would want to wear it (though I have never done so). I know dozens of perfumes that are ten times more expensive and smell much cheaper! This one is simply smooth, proper, ladylike, nothing is out of line and even after spraying it 10 times, it never becomes too much.
Generally, I spray M.Asam perfumes on guest beds, bath towels, and in rooms - especially this one when women have booked. They are always thrilled and ask about it!

Overall, a feel-good scent in addition to the cosmetics. Feminine and balanced, almost too proper for my rather unruly taste. I cannot understand the negative reviews; very likely the awareness of the low price influences the perception.

On my skin, it is still well noticeable even after 8 hours, which is often the case for me. The name is pure kitsch for me, and the bottle feels good in the hand without being snug.

The perfume is currently unavailable on the M.Asam website; I hope it comes back someday because it is just right for my purposes!

For five years, Kouros has been a daily presence in my life - the absolute favorite of my partner. I, who love perfumes so much and place such enormous importance on scents, have neglected to notice this fragrance at all. I love heavy, distinctive smells and even incense my house with the finest resins and woods - nothing bothers me quickly, hardly anything can take my breath away. In my nose, Kouros has always been a flat, unremarkable scent that I push back and forth while dusting, and I would prefer to exchange it for something truly masculine - something that is finally noticeable!
A few days ago, out of sheer curiosity, I read the comments here about Kouros. And lo and behold - this bore is supposed to have character?! It is said to divide humanity? It is supposed to polarize? A bit bewildered, I kept reading, but I checked a couple of times to make sure it was really about THE Kouros that lives with me. I even fetched the bottle and compared it with the picture here. I believe I looked at this perfume for the first time properly in that moment!
I like quite a few things that others do not... For five years, it hasn’t even managed to draw my attention, let alone stay in my memory! I decided to test it and sprayed a single time, resolutely and curiously, on my inner elbow.
Oh, my God!
I cannot dissect scent molecules and never smell what is in a perfume. No matter how many fragrance pyramids I read, I rarely can distinguish the individual components! For me, scents always evoke images, scenes, memories, longings, desires, or fears. This one does too - I cannot smell anything that has a name! But what I do smell is brutal!
I have never stood in front of a urinal, so I think I cannot judge whether Kouros smells like one. A scent hit me that seemed aggressively determined to knock me down! Hard and rough like the blow of a cultured psychopath, who still smiles at me kindly in my ignorance while he rams his fist in my nose! The white, innocently appearing bottle... what a treacherous deception! Absolutely stunned, I sat there. How was this possible? I called my husband over and let him smell my arm. He pulled back in surprise and said he had never smelled this perfume like THAT...
I was determined to give the scent time to reconcile with me. But it did not want to!!! Invasively, it spread into the air around me, shamelessly and violently filling my nose, and suddenly a subtle panic crept in that I might not be able to escape it! I fought it down and held on.
About half an hour later, I smelled myself again.
And there it was.
I already said that scents evoke scenes for me. This one was a bit late, but in the end, it was no exception!
In my childhood, as if it were not just decades ago, but in another dimension, scenes like this were not uncommon: We barefoot children playing on undeveloped meadows that had become dumps. From time to time, someone would set the garbage piles on fire - along with everything on them. The stench spreads quickly in the heat-hazy air. Then we children run over and play with and around the fire. Often in the flames - burning car tires! When everything else has burned down, you can see the rubber melting and bubbling. Smoke and soot rise up toxic and settle on us children, who poke with sticks in the chemical glow, so that the melted rubber sticks to them and briefly turns them into little torches... Our faces smeared with dust, our noses crusted with snot, we compete with each other to see who can lift the largest burning piece onto their stick. Big drops of sweat leave bright lines on our foreheads and cheeks, and glue our hair together as we stand so close to the fire and lean over! Our eyes become irritated and tear up, while the game seems endless... Such a tire simmers forever. The smell clings possessively to us - fatty chemical soot and burning garbage!
I withdrew in disgust. What a perfume!
For a while, I lingered in my memory and tried to ignore Kouros. After an hour and a half, it had finally managed to instill fear in me. It had risen in my nose to my brain, laid itself on my palate, crawled under my tongue, and clawed itself in my throat. I no longer dared to swallow my saliva, but ran to the bathroom every few minutes to spit in the toilet... Kouros showed no signs of leaving or taking a breather. Looking dazed, with burning lungs, the children still stood around the remnants of the fire, breathing in the poison, while the sun slowly set behind clouds of black, sticky smoke. Only one of the children suddenly held a honey bread in hand.
Enough!
I stepped into the shower and washed my skin and hair. Several scrubs failed to sand down Kouros from my skin. But toothpaste mixed with baking soda almost did the trick. In the end, I rubbed my whole arm with hydrogen peroxide solution. I brushed my teeth and sucked on a Ricola herbal candy. I sprayed myself with the most comforting scent I have.

For a long time, I sat in that dark room that night, in the creamy embrace of the Libertine, like a silent spectator of my own past. I had gotten rid of the stench, but not the spirits he summoned...

For more than 10 years, I kept an eye on it - and now this fragrance belongs to me. I wasn't really ready yet! But when I received it as a gift today, I knew - there’s no turning back.

Almost reverently, I apply a cautious dab on my wrist.
I can't dissect scents, and although I own considerable amounts of resins and woods, and more than 300 spices - I can never smell them out individually! For me, scents evoke scenes and images, moods, memories, longings, and sometimes fears!
And this fragrance?
It is like a lavishly set table! There are piled-up overripe figs and fresh dates, and next to them - salty preserved Moroccan lemons in clay bowls! Katayyif on silver, engraved plates and Algerian green olives in brine! Muhallabiya with rose water shimmers like mother-of-pearl in the bowls! Salty almonds with a spice crust, still hot from the oven! White and black mulberries promise juicy, sweet coolness! Baklava soaked in orange blossom syrup shines seductively. Flavors, scents, fragrances blend so naturally, just as they do in real life. Sweet and salty, cold and warm, fruity and spicy! Like the woman who showers in the morning and applies fine perfume, and later in the day stands at the stove cooking! This is how life truly smells! I sit a little apart from the table and admire this abundance! And suddenly I smell it.... I have to search for it a bit longer, but then! Shahi tukra! Arabia in India... It’s actually not so far-fetched and fits incredibly well! Shahi Tukra are bread slices coated in batter, similar to French toast, but they are drenched in sweet saffron milk! So saffron-like that you wouldn't want to smell saffron for a long time afterward.... Here, however, at this table, they shine golden and juicy, and my mouth waters! Heavy, fragrant smoke rises from incense bowls - Siam benzoin and Greek labdanum, a pair of coal granules of styrax - but maybe it’s all just a figment of my imagination!
I am already sure - not often, but when I fall into this very special nostalgia, I will dream back at this table... I will walk around it again, dip my finger into the Muhallabiya and then lick it off with pleasure! I will inhale the aromas and know that my skin will store them for a long time, and I might still smell them on my scarves days later! But what do a few days even mean? Here, life doesn’t flow, it drips thickly and richly aromatic...