Apicius

The series Murgo Real belongs to the simple, fine things of the past. Their gents' colognes come in splash bottles, and they should be kept in the bathroom, next to the shaving things. They can be used like an after shave.

Unfortunately, we don't have much information about the notes used for the lavender cologne. That is a pity because there is quite something in it - Agua de Colonia No. 4 is anything but a simple lavender water.

The opening is pleasantly prickly. Besides herbaceous lavender I smell hints of a dark-green forest note reminiscent of Acqua die Selva (Victor) from days long gone. A light spicy note, Bay Rum type, steps in. The coolness of this composition lets me think of something minty.

Naturally, the head note fades away quickly. The spiciness is a bit more robust. It encases the lavender character and carries it on for a while.

Fortunately, the vanilla noted here is not very present - if at all, maybe a tiny hint in the drydown. This lavender cologne has not been created with a scrim diffuser. Overall, herbaceousness and spiciness are dominating the fragrance. With this alignment, it suits my personal taste.

It is not so easy to find a lavender fragrance that does not come as vanillic and amiable. Here is one, and a very good one too.

It is big fun to discover the perfumes of a gifted newcomer who is unconcerned about the wonts of the perfume industry, and who follws his own path. Spyros Drosopoulos combines talent with individual taste, freedom of thought with personal style. It is good to get acquainted with perfumes that do not follow a well-known role model and instead leave the conventions behind.

Green-flowery fragrances have to be soft and tender and may be a little bit fresh. It is the area of pastel colours, and the pictures that these fragrances draw could come from Monet. That is the way in which we encounter the popular fragrance Tilleul by d'Orsay and others. Its tender butterfly wings can be consdidered the role model for the entire "blossom meadow" style.

But it is not impressionism that Spyros Drosopoulos finds his inspiration but Jan Vermeer van Delft who worked and lived in the 17th century. The genre paintings by this artist of the baroque era show the people in their environments, and in their times. They are impressive in a way that we can almost sense the scents and fragrances of the scenes shown.

With Melkmeisje - the milkmaid - the perfumer finds a conclusive alternative draft to the tenderness and fragility of the French linden blossom perfume. A Dutch melkmeisje knows what to do when the cow comes back from the range with bulging udders. She is not so pampered, she is a practical person, and she just shrugs when somebody becomes moony about the fragrance of tender lime blossoms.

The Netherlands in early summer - the perfumer gives us bright and sunny colours, and he may be just a bit too optimistic about the weather there. So what! Let's go on a bicyle trip with Melkmeisje, along meadows and fields on the excellent Dutch cycle tracks. And let us sense whatever fragrance will touch our nostrils!

These strong notes are simply fun. Besides lime blossom I smell traces of broom, blooming rape, yellow lupine and of course, grass. The interplay of flowers is opulent, there is a strange, somehow "fatty", almost resinous effect - just as if certain aldehyds are incorporated. This effect surprises me, and it sets Melkmeisje apart from the ordinary.

In fact, I find it difficult to distinguish singular notes. My attempts to give them a name rather refer to the style and the overall impression, and not so much to the actual presence of a specific note.

At least I can say that a slight honey note remains after everything else has faded.

But one thing has to be criticised: All Baruti perfumes are labelled as Extrait de Parfum. High longevity is what the customer expects from such a labelling - and this is something Melkmeisje really can't provide. The spectacular Dutch landscape fades away within three hours, and what is left is so close to the skin that you want to reapply. I have no problem with that: If a perfume is so well done as Melkmeisje one can accept a compromise. But that a rather high concentration of fragrance can nevertheless result in a rather fleeting experience does need to be explained.

We have assigned Melkmeisje as a ladies' fragrance, due to the naming. I would no longer support that. Melkmeisje rather includes a counter-concept to traditional feminity in perfumery - which would be associated with tender flower notes. Despite Jan Vermeer Melkmeisje must be seen as a contemporary fragrance since it points out an alternative way of presenting green-flowery notes in perfumes.

Perfumes are described by fragrance notes, and these notes usually give the impression that the oils and distillates incorporated are "all natural". Of course, the more advanced perfume consumer knows that modern perfumery would not have been possible without the achievements of the aromachemical industry. Yet, it would be highly unromantic if the smell of perfume was described by abstract or technical terms instead of natural odours.

However, the usual way of describing a fragrance fails if an aromachemical compound has an odour of its own, one that does not easily resemble the fragrance of certain flowers, woods, or resins. This dilemma very much applies to the popular Terre d'Hermès and all ist successors. Its aromatic base is usually refered to as cedar and vetiver in the note pyramids although IMHO it has no resemblance to neither of them.

Whereas many perfume lovers know and appreciate that specific woody-aromatic smell they are not aware of another odour: less well-known, not so tart as in TdH but just as woody-aromatic and with a specific kind of boozyness. As far as I can see, Jasper Conran's Mister was the first gents' cologne where this note plays a leading role. It was released one year after the famous Hermès fragrance. I dare say it shares the same nature and presumably has targeted the same audience: men who are predisposed to a more straightforward perception of scent, and thus are amenable for purism in perfumery.

With Jasper Conran's Mister, we are beyond the concept of the aromatic fougères of former decades. Yet, I would regard Mister as an aromatic fougère in the best sense. Its booziness is woody and - well - aromatic, and on top there is a blend of tart herbal notes strong enough to justify the fougere label. There seem to be no citruses involved for the top note but I smell a certain sharp fruitiness that lets me think of pineapple. The fragrance does not change much during its development.

Just as the basic compound of TdH has been used widely by now, the central note of Mister seems to have inspired other perfumers as well but not many. We have a small group of gents' colognes exploring this specific booziness. At first, there is Lubin's Itasca. With a less dark herbaceousness than Mister it gained lots of attention by Parfumo users when it came out, including the ladies. Then the Greek brand Kings & Queens used it together with musky notes in their budget fragrance King Solomon. But that's about it. I think I have found traces of this note in other perfumes (i.e. Jewel for Him by Micallef, maybe also Royal Vintage) but never again as the main focus.

So, two notes of the same kind available at the same time but only one became popular. I have to admit the prospect of smelling "boozy" is a bit off-putting. Yet, I think Mister's central note deserves to be explored further by skilled perfumers. At the moment, only the Lubin fragrance is still in production but leftover stock of Mister is still available on the net.

I suppose Mister will not appeal to everybody so I cannot generally recommend a blind buy. But if you are familiar with Itasca and want more of that kind you should buy now.

A promising name, popular fragrance notes – the latest perfume by Meo Fusciuni is worth a close look. And a beautiful picture given by Meo Fuscuni: the cool stone steps of a church in Palermo was where the first spark of inspiration hit the ground.

A perfume by the name of Narcotico can only be one thing: a strong oriental that claims its place somewhere between Opium and Black Afgano. It is patchouli that serves as the backbone in this case, and the topic seems to be how this note can be presented best, and in an up-to-date manner.

Giuseppe Imprezzabile gives us a spectacular opening: I strongly sense the typical earthiness of patchouli, together with an accord that is kind of flowery. Is that carnation? Is there even some fruitiness? For a short moment, we get a glimpse of the green aspects of patchouli that remind me so much of cotton sheets and cold, fresh country air.

A change sets in short before the opulence of this opening could be regarded as too dominant. The fragrance becomes more austere. The patchouli receives a frame that is almost herbaceous, slightly boozy and roughly reminiscent of a good cough syrup. Where does that cool, fresh aspect come from? Is there mint?

So far for the grand opening, however the heart note comes quickly. The earthiness of the patchouli steps aside. Now, there is sternness and sobriety fencing in the patchouli – hard and solid as the cold stone steps of a church entrance. For me, patchouli is something soft and yielding that is always at the brink of melting away. In opposite to that, frankincense is rock solid, straightforward and stern but with depth and providing a good structure.

But we don't get the point if we regard Narcotico as a simple dialogue between these two notes. Resinous aspects step in and from a certain point in the heart notes onwards Narcotico develops a certain close-to-the-body, almost intimate statement, and it is also getting softer again. I suppose that some musks are involved, at least there are hints of a musky powder note.

I could go on describing Narcotico like this but without completely getting the core of it. After several tests I still find new aspects in this perfume. So, how narcotic is Narcotico? A spritz on the left hand – top note as described. Then the change to the heart within half an hour. Then another spritz on the right hand – and I smell (oud) wood and smokiness, a complete different fragrance!

Narcotico eludes to be described, but nevertheless it embraces and tenders its wearer. It is not a well-defined fragrance that you can wear in front of you as if it was a shield. Narcotico will involve your own bodily odour, it will betray your sense of smell depending on situation and momentary state. This is what makes Narcotico so lively and interesting. It is always a stroke of luck when a perfumer creates a fragrance that can be perceived so individually by different people and at different times.

So far for its qualities. I appreciate it very much if a perfume underlines the physical presence of a person – and erotic attractiveness – in such a brilliant way as Narcotico does. This is what I want to smell at others, and also on myself. Personally, I would see its sex-appeal more on the masculine side.

I would like to thank Meo Fusciuni for sending me a sample and letting me experience this attractive fragrance.

I was shocked when I had found South by Menditorossa recently. I can only wonder what people are buying. By no means one should have the expectation that this perfume should be beautiful in an aesthetic way.

Forget water and soap – South smells human. South is stale and insipid – but also as intimate as the smell of old sweat can be. The first picture I got was that of worn nylon stockings. That may be attractive for some people, but I won't follow here. These are not the salty and animalic aspects of fresh sweat that we sometimes refer to as indolic notes.

This scent experience lasted for three or four hours on my skin. Then, in the final drydown, a certain resinous note showed up. After all, South is quite homogeneous, and it is not easy to split up into separate notes. I'd rather not say that this unpleasant experience had something to do with skin chemistry. On a test strip, South smelled quite the same. However, I tested it at a Parfumo meeting, and my opinion was not shared by all.

Should Menditorossa get panned for launching such a fragrance? IMHO – no. Niche fragrances may be a bit experimental and not everybody's darling. But my experience was worlds apart from how Menditorossa presents South on their website: warm bread, sun-bleached linnen, pure soap from Marseille. Nothing of that for me!

Napoleon Bonaparte might have chosen South as a gift for his beloved Josephine. Remember: “Do not wash yourself, Madame, I'll be in Paris within four days!”