BFellmeden

The Singular Oud has been in my collection for almost exactly a year, and during this time, I have worn it relatively often. Relatively often means specifically on seven days. However, there is a dark figure, as I often forget to mark the scent of the day as worn in Parfumo.

Seven days? That doesn't sound like much, nor does it sound like relatively much! But appearances can be deceiving; that is a lot. My overview of all worn fragrances tells me today, on June 16, 2024, the day I am writing this review, that I have activated the digital atomizer 991 times. My records start from February 6, 2022. Since then, 513 days have passed, which inevitably means that I have worn more than one fragrance on many days.
What is important is the initially mentioned fact that I have only owned the Singular Oud for a year, meaning its use is spread over just this period.

Long story short - I don't want to make it too complicated - 7 entries among around 400 fragrances (including decants) spread over a period of 365 days is indeed a lot. My most worn fragrance is Oud for Greatness with 17 entries. The Singular Oud shares the number 7 with eight other fragrances, including some very popular competitors, such as Accento, Epic Man, and New York Intense.

How did I come across the Singular Oud? I believe, no, I know that it was on offer at some online perfumery. I was initially particularly struck by the bottle. As much as I love super-luxurious bottles like those from Xerjoff or Parfums de Marly, I can also appreciate the simplicity of the bottles from Urban Scents. They are all modestly rectangular made of blue glass, adorned with a white print and an unobtrusive silver metal cap. It doesn't get much less spectacular than this, and that is exactly what caught my attention. I do eat with my eyes, but I also believe that less is often more.

The fragrance notes listed on Parfumo don't reveal much; there are very few. Could that be possible? Yes, I believe so, because I can identify these few fragrance notes in this perfume. Perhaps that is precisely what the art of this German perfume house "Urban Scents" is about: making a lot out of very little. This has been achieved excellently here, in my opinion. This scent is indeed very simple, not only in composition but also in use. There is absolutely nothing that disturbs. From beginning to end, I perceive it as a dark-sweet cloak of resins, wood, and incense. The progression is unremarkable, which I always find very nice when the top note enchants me - as it does in this case. As always, I cannot extract the oud for myself, but as with other oud fragrances, I believe I know it's there because it does something to me. I feel a certain coziness or comfort that contributes to my fragrance experience.

Urban Scents describes it as follows:

Singular Oud - An eleven-active bridge between East & West (unfortunately, I could not clarify what the word "eleven-active" means). The warmth of classic, oriental notes of saffron, incense, and patchouli meets the freshness of green fig and Laotian oud in an exciting fragrance connection between the mystique of the East and the modernity of the West.

I have little to add to that. The description is quite abstract in essence, but in wording, it achieves its goal in my perception.
For me, as a fan of fig scents, it is particularly noteworthy that the fig is present from beginning to end. This, along with the aforementioned coziness and the fact that we are dealing with a fragrance that I consider to be universally wearable, meaning for any occasion and in any season, elevates it to one of the top ranks for me.

And because that is the case, and I hope that these attributes also apply to other fragrances from this house, I ordered the current sample set, which is directly available from Urban Scents and, at €25.00 plus €4.00 shipping, is a real bargain, as it consists of nine samples of 2.5 ML each.

Thank you for reading!

I first encountered the brand Histoires de Parfums in videos by Marc Gebauer. Some time ago, he praised Histoires de Parfums This is not a Blue Bottle 1.2 and some of its blue brothers as very special fragrances. And so it happened that the 1.2 version became my first scent from this brand.

Later, he described in two very entertaining videos, once in the presence of Herbert Stricker and once in the presence of Kai Portens, the Histoires de Parfums 1740 as an extremely strong and room-filling scent, a fragrance for real men, a scent for people who don't care about their surroundings. Grinning, he explained that this perfume is the ideal blind buy and that you simply can't go wrong with it. This made me curious, but not much more at that time.
I don't know if the perfume rules allow me to post the links to the two videos I’m referring to here. I’ll just give it a try and would appreciate a friendly note about any potential rule violation much more than a comment-less deletion of this review.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T9A99YE6Dpc
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wD6JLdJNduY

For a long time, I didn’t delve further into the brand, mainly because my previously mentioned scent 1.2, while having significant longevity and being pleasant, didn’t quite resonate with me personally.

As so often, I stumbled upon a good offer in a specialty store, where the brand Histoires de Parfums is often heavily discounted. In free fall, I grabbed the bottle, which at the time was unfortunately only available in a 60 ML version, and made the purchase. I certainly wouldn’t have done that without the offer and would have missed out on something.

The first attempt: I approached the 1740 with certain expectations, suspecting that I would experience a scent that would not only be impractical for everyday wear but would probably not appeal to me and would simply be over the top.
My expectations were only partially met. I wouldn’t say that I didn’t like it. But I also wouldn’t say that it fulfilled my olfactory dreams. However, it was strong enough that I couldn’t spontaneously think of any occasions when I could wear this perfume.

Before I go into detail here, I can’t help but point out that this series of fragrances is inspired by historical figures and events. The reference of the 1740 belongs to the Marquis de Sade, a French nobleman and writer, of whom most people have probably heard or maybe even read something. He is not necessarily regarded as the inventor of BDSM, but he is often considered one of the first people to have such inclinations and to have made them public. Without wanting to be asked where I get my wisdom from, I can assure you that the scent has nothing to do with the world of torment, pain, and torture rituals. Nowadays, perhaps the dominatrices smell good, but not their victims, whose scent is often imbued with fear and bloody traces.

The scent is dark, heavy, and berry-like, but all the berries that are (hypothetically) processed here are unsweetened. The same goes for the citrus notes, which are present but always very hard for me to extract in such dark perfumes. There is a lot of leather and resin, and even though nothing about any fruits is mentioned in the fragrance pyramid, I associate the scent with an almost black jam made from unsweetened blueberries and blackberries.
Additionally, I perceive a very pleasant alcohol note that gives the fragrance a wonderful elegance, but nothing about alcohol is mentioned in the fragrance pyramid. I can’t detect any green notes or anything “bright.”

It quickly becomes clear to me that we (I) have a problem! The question arises: when does one wear something like this?

In the evening, I showed the 1740 to a friend who is not as deep into the subject as I am but always has a great interest in my new fragrances. She also tried it and came to the conclusion: “No, I actually don’t think it’s bad at all!”
She has made similar statements about other fragrances that I never thought a woman would like, and this has previously caused me to view a perfume from a different perspective, as it dispelled my concern that I might annoy those around me or come off as “repulsive” to women. This led to these fragrances, including the 1740, getting more chances. And what can I say? I have experienced this so many times. By the next attempt, there was no problem anymore.

The 1740 by Histoires de Parfums has quickly become a candidate for a 10/10 for me after just a few tries. Those who read “me” might say: Yes, yes, that’s always the case with him. Whoever believes it will be blessed. But I tell you: I prefer to write about perfumes that I really like rather than about scents with which I will never form a friendship. It’s more enjoyable for me and is also much better appreciated by the community. And that means something to me.
But what is this scent suitable for? I think it can also be worn in enclosed spaces, but they should rather be spacious rooms with stucco under high ceilings. A small office with five workstations is probably not suitable.

This scent is fantastic when you take a walk along fallow fields on a sunny but freezing cold day. With the 1740, you constantly smell yourself, and that provides me, as a perfume junkie, with the olfactory satisfaction we all strive for.
If I could bring you a little closer to the 1740 with this review, I’m very pleased. Thank you for reading.

Today, I want to talk about a fragrance from the Shooting Stars line by Xerjoff, which has flown significantly under my radar until now. I'm referring to Oesel. I had only heard or read about this fragrance, which has been on the market since 2009, very sporadically.

Here on Parfumo, it is (as of today, August 20, 2023) included in 212 collections, which is not particularly much. Certainly, there are some in the Shooting Stars line that are included in even fewer collections, and of which I have truly never heard. The most well-known among the Shooting Stars are Uden, Apolonia, Nio, and Kobe. And because of this, I decided one fine day to order Uden again (Hmm???). I must preface that I already owned the bottle, and as is often the case when a fragrance is running low, you start to miss it.

This often happens to me; a bottle or its contents runs out, and suddenly I realize that this fragrance is actually quite wonderful, that I have worn it far too little, that I have undervalued it all along, that my life will seem gray and dreary without it, and that I absolutely must have it again.

Huh? Is he crazy??? Why, you ask, is he buying a Uden and then reviewing Oesel? Quite simply, because that's how the story began:

I ordered a Uden - I won't reveal where - and received an Oesel, but I only noticed this when it was already too late. Those of you who are familiar with the packaging know that a white cardboard box first appears, which contains the actual Xerjoff box. It is important to mention that the white box is already labeled, and on the one I received, it clearly read "Uden."

Without looking closely, I removed the foil from the "next" Xerjoff packaging, took out the beautiful leather (imitation) box, which, as far as I know, all Shooting Stars come in, opened it, and eagerly celebrated the unfolding of the final packaging of the fragrance, the white fabric-like curtain that concealed the bottle from my eyes.

“Hm, something's not right!”

I saw a 50-ml Xerjoff bottle, so far so good, but the liquid inside was far too dark. The juice was almost amber-colored and not as light and clear as Uden. I took the bottle out and looked a bit closer. I turned it in the light until I could see what was written under the metal plaque: Shooting Stars - Oesel

“Damn!,” I thought, “the packaging is already opened. What am I supposed to do with this stuff?”

Of course, I would contact the supplier and file a complaint, and that would all work out because I had indeed ordered Uden and received Oesel. The mistake was with the white outer packaging that said "Uden." I have no idea how such a thing can happen, but I have learned in my life, which is not so young anymore, that every mistake that could happen eventually does happen.

The small bottle with the almost reddish honey-like shimmering amber liquid fascinated me because, due to its color, it seemed so completely different from all the other Xerjoffs I had owned or still own. All Xerjoff bottles are somehow noble in their way, but I jokingly and yet with a hint of seriousness associated this one with a container for liquid gold.

Up until then, I had never really engaged with Oesel and began to wonder what it would be like, whether this might be a twist of fate today. Perhaps it would be a mistake to return the fragrance. Maybe this is the scent that would lead me to total olfactory satisfaction.

I opened Parfumo to take a look at the fragrance pyramid. In a matter of seconds, I had agreed with myself that I would keep Oesel if the fragrance pyramid did not contain any notes that I knew I might not like. Additionally, I also agreed with myself that I would still file a complaint about the mistake because, after all, I really wanted to have Uden. However, I would try to capitalize on the mistake and get it at a certain discount.

The fragrance pyramid was quickly checked. There was no problematic ingredient listed for me, especially since it is quite manageable. Hurdle No. 1 was cleared. Then I contacted the supplier, explained the mistake, supported it with photos of the white outer packaging and the bottle, and then generously informed him that I would forgive him for the mistake and wanted to keep Oesel, but in return, I would like a discount for Uden, which I actually wanted in the end. The supplier quickly agreed, granted me an acceptable discount, and thus Oesel was finally mine.

That meant: I would now spray it on.

The first thing that came to my mind was honey, even though it is not part of the fragrance pyramid. This is a problem I often face. I smell different fragrance notes than those listed in the pyramid. Often, I have no idea what I am smelling, but sometimes, as is the case now, I smell something that isn't even there. And here, that is honey. This is worth mentioning because I am not a big fan of honey, neither at breakfast nor in perfume, and so I thought I had made a mistake.

But that's not the case. Like other fragrances before, Oesel naturally got a second and a third chance, and as always, I can't really break down my scent sensations. The fact is, it remains honey for me, but with a bit of training and after a few tries, it blends with the rose and especially with tobacco. This makes it not only acceptable for me over time but really, really beautiful. The overall composition comes to my nose as something I have not knowingly smelled before and unusual. The scent is warm, soft, and cuddly. I feel comfortable with it. It is noble and has enormous strength. Oesel delivers what many other perfumes promise. I am noticed, and not just a little. This fragrance projects endlessly and lasts easily 12 hours on my skin. I can still smell it on my skin the next day.

Oesel is a fragrance that you can't go wrong with, wearable for everyone. Perhaps one should consider whether to wear it to the office or for sports, but as a casual fragrance, it is certainly excellent. Moreover, it works as an all-year-round scent. The citrus notes and the subdued sweetness allow for use in the warm sunny seasons. The warmth from the tobacco and woods, in turn, make it wearable in winter.
I consider the above-described sequence a bit of a fortunate turn of fate, but not a twist of fate. I am glad to have gotten to know Oesel, and when I stand in front of my perfume shelf in the morning and think about which fragrance to wear, it comes into play relatively often.

Thank you for reading!

I begin this review with a brief excursion into my daily life as a Parfumo.

Always on the lookout for new ultimate scents and striving to acquire them for the smallest possible price, I scoured the well-known online perfumeries and found what I was looking for at Parfumdreams. There, I came across various Roberto Ugolinis, which were already available at a significant discount even without a coupon code. Although these fragrances were not new to me, as I already owned them all, I decided to purchase them all as backup bottles due to the attractive prices and the fact that I had a functioning coupon code for an additional 15% off alongside my premium discount.

I made a really good deal, no question about it, but the satisfaction from this purchase was absent, as I was yearning for a new scent, a fragrance that I did not yet know and that would surely grant me an unprecedented pleasure.

I should perhaps explain that I like to wind down the evening with a beer, and if it doesn't stop at just one beer, but perhaps a second, third, or even fourth comes along, my willingness to spend money on perfume grows exponentially. And so it was on that evening. I needed another fragrance.

The first desirable perfume that came my way was Sauvage Elixir by Dior. Why was that? First, because the Sauvage EdP was one of my very first fragrances, which, however, never really captivated me. Secondly, I own Oud Ispahan as my second Dior, and that is a scent that convinced me in mere seconds. From this, I deduced that Dior, even though the Sauvage EdP couldn't win me over, can create perfume! Thirdly, this fragrance is rated quite well on Parfumo and by the "perfume experts" on YouTube and other platforms. Consequently, it landed blindly in my shopping cart.

However, the next morning, I was uncertain due to the total order price of almost 700 € and the alcohol level that had since dissipated, and I questioned the necessity of owning the Sauvage Elixir.

"Well," I thought. "I'll order a sample somewhere and test it before I open the Dior and send it back if necessary."

Said and done. Now, it is the case, as with most of you, that I try to order as many samples from one provider as possible to save on shipping. I found what I was looking for at MartinGE. I ordered 5 ML of Sauvage Elixir and 3 other samples from him. As is customary for a proper souk, the package landed in my parcel station just two days later.

When I took it out, I was initially surprised by the size of the package. I had ordered 4 x 5 ML samples and received a package that could easily have accommodated a full bottle in its original packaging. The weight of the package surprisingly also indicated that more was packed than just the few samples.

Upon arriving home, I opened the package and found, in addition to the samples, an empty bottle of Aoud Lemon Mint by Mancera. "Also a method to dispose of old glass," I thought flippantly, but I silently apologized to Martin a second later, as upon closer inspection, I realized that there was still a tiny bit left inside.

I understood that Martin had looked at my wish list and had stumbled upon exactly this fragrance that I had added based on some reviews or videos.
"What a great idea," I thought, grabbed the bottle, and applied a first spray to my left forearm. I had to press the atomizer a few times, as it apparently had already drawn in air, causing very little of the actual scent to escape the bottle.

But it was enough to get a first impression. However, that presented me with a problem. I had no idea what I was smelling. At least not beyond what the name Aoud Lemon Mint already revealed.

It is a citrusy scent (surprise), but from the very first second, there is something dark that resonates in its aura. Could that be the oud? No idea, because to be honest, I still don't know what oud smells like. To me, oud is a chameleon, as it smells different depending on its origin, quantity, and the addition of other fragrance notes. What I can say is that it seems to have been used relatively subtly here, according to my nose.

After looking at the ingredients, I nodded knowingly at one or two additions. For example, the almond could indeed be there. I perceive almond as sweet, bright, and somewhat metallic. My references for that are Pegasus by PdM and Fucking Fabulous by Tom Ford. I see such a note here as well.

I also nodded at lemon, pepper, mint, vetiver, and vanilla. I repeat myself, but I must point out again that I struggle to identify notes and usually only succeed when I have seen the fragrance pyramid. And whether that sometimes is not rather a figment of my imagination, I cannot completely rule out. I do not recognize the remaining ingredients, even when I read them.

But that is not so important. What matters is an overall impression, feelings, the experience of wearing a perfume, the search for associations and memories that can be evoked by a scent, the chance to embark on an expedition into oneself with it. This does not happen with all fragrances. It only happens with the very special ones, the few candidates that make you want to wave a 10-point paddle like Llambi.

For me, Aoud Lemon Mint by Mancera now belongs to that category. It fascinates me due to an unusual combination of bright and sweet ingredients with mysterious dark and bitter notes. My nose says: I haven't experienced that before. In the first few minutes, I couldn't connect the notes, which initially irritated me, but then a little later, they swirled together and created a wonderful scent for me that I absolutely wanted to own.

What can I say? That very evening, I managed to acquire a full bottle. It was a quick and definitive decision that I never questioned. I was fortunate enough to stumble upon a good offer in the souk almost immediately, a stroke of luck that doesn't happen often, and I jumped on it right away.

The samples I ordered, especially the one from Sauvage Elixir, which I ultimately returned, faded completely into the background. I am truly grateful to Parfumo MartinGE for his special method of disposing of old glass and for magically bringing this scent to my shelf.

I first encountered the brand Kajal in a video by Kai Porten, who discovered it at a trade fair and later discussed it in a livestream. I remember how excited he was about the bottles, particularly the bottle of Almaz, which is presented in a mirrored glass with a star-shaped cap adorned with colorful stones, making it a real eye-catcher.

Of course, he expressed his admiration not only for the bottle but also for its contents. However, I don't want to go into detail here, as this is not about the Almaz but about the Sawlaj.

To make the story understandable, I must mention that I encountered the Almaz live at a meet & greet that Kai organized for the pre-order customers of his Oud 31, as he had it with him, and I got to sniff it for the first time. After just a few seconds, it was clear that it had to be in my house.

A month ago, I was lucky enough to purchase the Almaz at the Souk, quickly giving it a 10 out of 10 for the scent and starting to become interested in other fragrances from Kajal.

So, I had all the fragrances displayed on Parfumo in order of their scent popularity, read reviews where available, and looked occasionally, but not intensively, at who was offering these fragrances at what price. Recently, Douglas had the Sawlaj on offer, which I hadn't really considered since it occupies one of the lower spots in the mentioned scent popularity.

The rating of the fragrance on Parfumo is 7.7, which is not outstanding but also not bad. I found the fragrance pyramid interesting. I like a good lemon, enjoy resins, and also rose and leather.

So in the end, I couldn't resist, as the offer was indeed good. Come on, Douglas, take my money and give me the Sawlaj in return.

So I ordered it.

Douglas took a bit longer than usual, but after a few days, it finally arrived. When I took the bottle out of the packaging, I was totally blown away by it because it struck me as an old industrial monument, a very simple yet very heavy bottle made of milk glass with massive iron plaques on the front and back. It's not just a little heavy; it's really quite heavy. The massive star-shaped metal cap contributes to that.

I put it on the scale. In fact, it is even heavier than a full bottle of Parfums de Marly, which I previously mentioned can feel like they could smash tabletops.
The appearance and weight draw parallels to the mentioned industrial monument. Ultimately, "the colour of the juice" also plays its part. The liquid contained is not particularly viscous, but visually it could easily pass for machine oil.

The first spray:

Great lemon and spices that, in the first moments, don't seem to find each other. A few minutes pass before the different aromas start to come together and eventually merge. Imagine a pair of scissors that closes very slowly until both blades finally lie together and form a unit.

What do I recognize? As always, I must say that I suspect I can't recognize many aromas without having read them in the fragrance pyramid beforehand.

Like most perfumes, Sawlaj opens citrusy, in this case with a lemon that is really, really well done and immediately recognizable even to a complete fragrance novice.
The labdanum forms the dark part of this fragrance composition. I know it from other fragrances, e.g., from the Xerjoff Tony Iommi Monkey Special, where the proportion is certainly significantly higher than here in the Sawlaj. Nevertheless, it becomes particularly recognizable here after a few minutes, namely when the citrus, which initially keeps the scissors apart, recedes a bit. The scent then takes on a somewhat resinous darkness that remains for quite a while.

Above the darkness, the floral notes begin to intertwine. I would never recognize what exactly is contained, but even at this point, it is clear to everyone that there are a few flowers involved.

But there is something else: A medium-brown suede leather jacket comes to the forefront. Google that. Most suede leather jackets are indeed brown. There are so many leather scents that vary greatly. Some scents smell like the expensive leather upholstery of a luxury car, while others clearly embody a heavy, oily black leather jacket. The Sawlaj fits somewhere in between and comes with the mentioned suede leather jacket.

Above all, there is a certain sweetness that stems from the ingredients of the base notes.
These scent impressions, the resin, the flowers, the leather, and the sweetness are not so intertwined that you can't recognize anything anymore. Here, it feels as if they are stacked on top of each other, like in a layered salad, so that the aromas - at least grouped - can be distinctly identified.

And that, I find, makes the scent very special because of its architecture, regardless of the fact that I don't know any other scent that combines aromas in this way. I wonder if, given such an unusual scent, a category of "uniqueness" should be introduced alongside the ratings for scent, longevity, sillage, bottle, and price. I now own around 175 perfumes myself, and it's not uncommon for the first thought after the first spray to be that I've smelled "something like this" before.

That is different with the Sawlaj. I've never smelled "something like this" before.
Now, I haven't yet commented on whether I actually like what I smell.
In conclusion, I won't rate the scent today - just this much: It will be at least an 8+. At first glance, I might have rated it higher, but that's due to the initial euphoria, which in turn is attributable to the aforementioned uniqueness.

No, the scent won't get a 10 from me, because besides the uniqueness, it is also somewhat inconspicuous. It doesn't hit you in the face; it doesn't stand out immediately like its previously mentioned brother Almaz. The aforementioned "uniqueness" only becomes noticeable when you engage with it and really delve into it. The "normal" environment will certainly remain unaware of this characteristic.

This is also supported by longevity and sillage. While I still rate the longevity as good, the sillage drifts into mediocrity. However, the bottle is definitely worth a 10 to me. I've rarely held something so impressive - despite all its simplicity.
Finally, a last word about the progression. The Sawlaj also ends sweetly like most perfumes, which is, of course, due to benzoin, vanilla, and vetiver in the base notes.

I had a lot of fun writing about a scent that hasn't yet reached the "mass." Here on Parfumo, only 16 people, including myself, own it. I also think it's great in this case that I have the honor of writing the first review for a fragrance.

Thank you for reading!