BlueskyFresh

…or: “The better 'Copal Azur | Aedes de Venustas'?” This was the spontaneous title of my Parfumo note on this fragrance after the first testing experience.

Whether it is actually “better” is something everyone must judge for themselves; however, both perfumes are very similar in impression, style, and direction.

About the scent:
An exceptionally exciting, unusual incense fragrance. Not a crowd-pleaser - you definitely have to test it (if you still can), as it may not appeal to everyone. Mortel Noir is a rather fresh, citrusy incense with a strong, pronounced pepper note at the start, whose sharpness is emphasized and supported by the ginger. Pyramid - what you see is exactly what you get!

Despite the freshness that makes the scent absolutely suitable for summer, it has a pronounced depth, appearing meaningful and mysterious, almost a bit morbid. I envision medieval Game-of-Thrones-like scenes, an old church nave, cold, ancient stone that has been smoked with balsamic resins countless times, time-hardened, old wood wiped with bergamot oil. The stone, mysterious dome cathedral where Jaqen H’ghar resides and where eerie things happen at night - that’s how it smells there.

Later, it seems almost a bit aquatic to me - see the azure-colored nephew - but it always retains its sacred depth. Definitely not a harmless and trivial scent for “on the job” - this one wants to be smelled! It taps you on the shoulder with cold fingers from behind and slithers into your nose with its smoky essence. It reminds you - there was something! I am here, your Mortel Noir! Yet it remains fine, ethereal, without annoying sweetness or heavy notes, and is never heavy.

In the drydown, Mortel Noir becomes softer, more agreeable, more conciliatory, but retains the pleasant, tingling fresh sharpness. The progression is overall only moderately pronounced - if you don’t like the first impression, there’s no need to test further; a complete transformation or surprise does not occur. Where the more strongly developing "Copal Azur | Aedes de Venustas," which I like and own, can sometimes get on my nerves in the middle part with its more pronounced aquatic notes before its powdery drydown reconciles me, the Trudon stays true to its essence, follows its path, and has integrated the perceived “aquatic” more harmoniously and less pointedly.

The “unfortunately” about it: Limited to 80 bottles, and according to current appearances, already sold out. Perhaps just temporarily out of stock? Incense lovers: Test and grab it if a black crypt bottle is pushed out from the underground catacombs.

Longevity: yes.

Thanks to Guszi for the generous testing opportunity.
The house of Trudon has at least two more hits in the program for me with the smoke bomb Révolution and the herbaceous green "II | Trudon." Médie is on its way as a sample; I am curious. They definitely offer more than just candles.

Normally, I don't write a review when I don't like a fragrance, but here I must... Since I don't find my impressions reflected here at all, I can perhaps emphatically underline the previous writer's recommendation: Sample before you buy!

First of all, I have Loewe's Esencia and I appreciate it *very much*! I was encouraged to explore Loewe7 further by the listed notes (I *love* incense! Along with pepper, cedar, vetiver. Musk is also welcome. Everyone likes a fresh apple. What could possibly go wrong?) as well as the use of such beautiful words as "Thuriferar," see below.

Upon spraying: Immediately, a very strong metallic note bites into the unsuspecting nose. This is followed by a very(!) artificial baked apple. Almost grotesquely artificial. Christmas apple studded with many cloves. The fork is already stuck in it.

The metallic note smells distinctly bloody to me. This fragrance immediately evokes the taste of gum bleeding in me.
I had never encountered "dishwashing urge" before; I calmly let everything evaporate from me and bravely tested it, even if it didn't quite suit my taste at times. But here - borderline!

I can hardly detect any development; while it does become softer, powdery, and overall a bit milder, it retains its characteristic and stubbornly drags the bloody trail through to the end.

Aside from that, the bright blue bottle is, for me, the most mismatched flacon to the content so far (red, Christmas baked apple!). I would have understood metallic silver - that's how it used to look. (And what the hell does the torero have to do with it? In the end, a bloody game after all?)

In summary:

How good that I tested it!
(A heartfelt thank you to the person who provided the sample! ;) )

For fans of surgical instruments in meat and as natural apple notes as in PdM "Greenley" (only here in red, how fitting). Apologies for the unappetizing presentation.
But someone has to say it.

"That's definitely something special!" I replied to the very nice tester of a generous sample when he asked how I found the Bergamask. This spontaneous summary captures it, which is why I want to start with it here.

What else is there to smell here, besides the shrill-loud citrus that everyone knows by now?

The very first thing that hit me when I peeled off the tape from the test vial, and not quietly in the form of 3 molecules, was - phew, urine! Very authentic. Did someone play a joke?
No, they definitely did not (for sure! ;) ).

This note can easily arise from the interplay of sour citrus and honey - especially when a lot of synthetic elements are mixed in. Whether the civet has lifted its leg on the bottle, we do not know thanks to Gualtieri's pyramid secrets. It’s possible.

Since we are already in a delicate area, I would like to add the element "female genitalia," which I also perceive here. Not without reason referred to in some lyrical descriptions as "little honey pot." No, Bergamask is not a cheerful-harmless citrus bouncing water that refreshes you chaste in summer; it is sneaky and completely shameless "animalic" right in your face. Not even half-heartedly hidden behind an orange leaf.

The "Bergamasca" is probably less about tame, medieval church dances, but rather a pretty wild lustful frenzy, suitable for getting physically closer.
By the way, I didn’t even think that the name could be a play on words with bergamot and musk; it seems to me rather unlikely since it is an Italian venture. The breed-savvy dog person is spontaneously familiar with the "Bergamask" and with it the namesake region in the Alps.

Now I will write something very personal about what this infernal furioso smells like to me: The vulnerability after sex. The smells and bodily fluids still linger in the air, sweat (!) included, and one is not quite sure if one has a) given too much or b) allowed too much. This moment of stillness afterward. When briefly no one does anything. No one looks at the other. Naked in body and soul. The uncertain heart like raw meat.

The shamelessly exposed notes, what does my nose associate:

- various citrus fruits
- musk
- ...ole and ...xane in variations and sorts
- honey
- orange juice
- urine, sweat
- female genitalia
- the smell of (neutral) oil, without being "oily" (in consistency)

Ambivalent love-hate, "I don't really know" candidate - yes, I can totally understand that. As much as I like (?) and am fascinated by Bergamask, it also gives me the feeling of sitting with my legs spread in the tram. I am unsure how it affects others, how it smells to others.
It definitely doesn't work all the time.
Can it be annoying sometimes? Yes.
Crazy synthetic? That too.
Job interview? NOPE!

As an "always-wobbling position," it has now (after "Ugh, no, rather not") found a place on the wish list; it just captivates me. Bergamask is like an accident - you don’t want to look, but somehow you have to.
It is neon-colored, gaudy, it glistens, it screams, it barges in, snatches the wheel from your hands at 180, it doesn’t hold back, it polarizes, it is Twitter in capital letters, it is a highly cinched and overflowing double-D in your face, Oktoberfest with full-throttle boom, simply "over the top" in every aspect, it is somehow Trumpesque.

Bergamask is the "cringe" relative who always has one glass too many at family gatherings and, with legs spread, tells sexist and discriminatory jokes at full volume. You don’t want to like him, but sometimes you have to laugh, secretly, behind your hand.

You make me a little uncomfortable, and yet I feel like wearing you (sometimes). Just for the fun of it!
It oddly inspires me, and I want to grin at my random counterpart as if we share an indecent, frivolous secret in this cloud of scent - and at the same time apologize for wearing this stuff.

Longevity: Atomic bomb. I have sustainably contaminated my hallway carpet in front of the perfume cabinet; I will never need room spray here again. The rental car I drove on a Bergamask day surely still has traces of it.
Sillage: Loud. But still (somewhat!) controllable by the amount.
(Here, never take more than two, as it hurts people!)
Self-smell: clearly (!) throughout the day, which I personally just love. That’s why I wear perfume! (At the same time, I am surprised that one doesn’t become nose-blind to this brutal substance)

In conclusion - How does one come up with the idea of voluntarily dousing oneself with something that one thinks smells like urine and a hint of genitalia? No idea. Ask the goat. It urinates and ejaculates on itself when allowed back to its ladies after a separation to smell particularly attractive to them.
It knows what’s up.

This is truly the most fascinating thing I've smelled so far in terms of "effect." Pheromone alert!!

To me, it smells 100% like a sexually attractive man, like a GUY, specifically the not freshly showered handyman type - *after* work, in clothes that have been worn a few times. I once read that Oud is attractive to many people - even more so, it’s erotic - because it symbolizes that the person who smells like that is genetically very different from us. This is biologically advantageous and triggers our instincts. It’s no coincidence that dark-haired southerners are often attracted to light blondes and vice versa, a Boris Becker dreams of exoticism. We want to mend our faulty genetic traits (which everyone carries) or optimize the chances that they won’t meet in the other’s genetic material and thus come to the forefront as purebred. Our nature pushes us towards this because it is evolutionarily beneficial.

That is exactly what I smell here - the dark guy who is genetically maximally different from me! In all his emanations and his whole nature. Just a little bit sweaty - simply body odor. Animalistic, masculine, bitter, wild, rough.
Hairy neck and slightly greasy, dark curls. Dark beard or its shadow.
This could also be an Ottoman, an Arab, maximally foreign. But excitingly foreign.
The blonde is already sorting her genes.

(Update: Now I’ve got it: It’s one from Khal Drogo’s protection squad! A wild Dothraki, with that foreign language. Even Drogo himself is still too green-eyed for this.)

Additionally: LEATHER, written in capital letters and with an exclamation mark! Also more on the used, greasy side.

Dirty, the whole thing. Sexy, wild, dangerous. Alluring. Strong.
The Oud also lends a bit of stable scent, but for me in a pleasant variation. Horse, like how the animal smells as a whole. Not specifically or exclusively its dung. Noble horse, not a cow.

Honestly, if someone smells like this, I could also be a restrained, chaste, modest maid and guarantee nothing. I would let myself be sold for a few camels.

~ Do I want to smell like this myself? No, that would be somehow confusing. Although the notes are totally my thing. Besides, I would have to constantly sniff myself.
For men? A weapon permit is required. However, of the subtle, cunning kind. He wraps the ladies around his finger before they even consciously smell anything.

Now a bit more soberly, for all those whom this thing doesn’t immediately press the reproduction button:

In the first spray, quite fresh. Then comes the “guy,” pleasantly masculine-sweaty, and shows his construction worker crack, into which a strip of dark body hair runs. It stalls, leathers, and smells of horse. Then it initially becomes softer, more balsamic, also - unfortunately! (Or did I sniff it all away?) a bit quieter, more understated.
It remains half “body odor” and half “perfume layer.” This is leathery, woody, incense-like-resinous-balsamic (elemi resin!). A certain freshness remains (pepper, bergamot) - I love this oscillation between freshness and balsamic! Here it is exceptionally well balanced. The overall impression is, however, clearly more “warm.” Manly-warm, dry-tanned, warm male paw, not this asexual-cherry-sweet-bland-powdery sofa-warm that is currently trending for men (unfortunately, in my opinion).
There could also be some tobacco in it; at least I get that impression.

The drydown is somewhat more generic; you’ve basically smelled it thematically before, and I have it here in a few variations (in the drydown initially somewhat similar to #malachitgrau, but here plus Oud).* I like it up to this point. However, a slightly piercing synthetic note unfortunately comes in now. It’s as if the scent swings back with a club. Here, points off. In the last third of wear, it becomes too sourly “bergamask” for me.
But somewhere in the background, he’s still lurking, the guy…

Sillage, longevity, bottle, stuff, no idea, I can’t concentrate, ask me again later. You have to test this one, no blind buy. I’m sure it polarizes like an individual body odor - it attracts or repels. That’s what “Oud” can do, a harmless tree resin (or its imitation), plus a few chemicals from the lab - fascinating.

Wow, awesome stuff.
Devil’s stuff!

I surrender.
Here, please, 1x blonde genes. Neatly pre-sorted.

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* For those who generally like the notes of “gray tones” - give this a try! It’s like a mix of "Quartz Gray | Gray Tone Perfumes" and "Malachite Gray | Gray Tone Perfumes" plus leather plus (still European-digestible) Oud plus Orto-Parisi synthetic for the volume.

It smells totally like Oud to me! From the very beginning, from the first spray. I can hardly believe that there is no Oud (-“accord”) contained here.

Not a candidate for purchase for me, I miss the freshness and something green. But undoubtedly a very well-made fragrance! Woody Mood is balsamic-resinous through and through. In the first few minutes, it has a disruptive note that could lean towards glue, but upon closer sniffing, it is made up of resins (terpenes can often be found in glues). This note soon dissipates.

The color chosen for the presentation of the perfume fits perfectly - woody, dry, warm. No sweetness, no freshness (I have to search for bergamot with a magnifying glass), just warm brown, woody balsamic.

What is apparently not Oud here, if it were Oud, would not be of the *entirely* harmless kind. I get a leathery saddled horse along with a subtle “stable scent.” Leather is fully present.

As the (not really strict or even penetrating, rather an accentually intriguing) stable recedes, it becomes a bit gourmand, quite creamy, while remaining herbaceous and almost completely unsweetened, with a hint of booziness. Cocoa is distinctly noticeable. Patchouli as a “base” is also present, but very harmoniously integrated.
In the advanced drydown & finale, then very noticeable incense.

Season: Autumn/Winter. Perfect for cozy evenings by the crackling fireplace with a little fire! With mulled wine or a hot chocolate with a shot.

My mental image: Christmas party in the riding stable, where several exhibitors present their leather goods at wooden stalls. There is Lumumba (in the East: “Dead Aunt”).

As with my Olfactive Studio favorite "Panorama | Olfactive Studio," I appreciate the complexity and the super good, harmonious coordination of the individual ingredients here. Nothing “kicks” out, everything is a whole led by a sure recipe and intertwined with each other. Regardless of the fact that the “scent image” (due to the lack of invigorating-fresh green sprightliness, and a bit too “delicious” for me) does not quite result in my favored direction, it is technically flawless. Worth recommending and testing.

In 2022, it should actually be totally “trending,” it hits the zeitgeist and current taste highly.

For me, it leans more towards the masculine side, brand “rugged horse,” which becomes gentle, spicy-chocolatey balsamic. I think many women would prefer to smell it on (their) men rather than on themselves - but anything goes.

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UPDATE from mid 11/’22: In the first truly cool, icy fresh-clear autumn weather this year after an almost eternally long “Indian summer” and harvesting tomatoes & strawberries into November, I spontaneously felt like “applying” the sample. Wow!! In this weather, the fragrance plays its trump cards and is really well placed. It has now, to my own surprise, “flashed” me so much that I bought the “not a candidate for purchase” - as a bottle. Longevity & “self-smelling clouds” are really great. Notes upgrade for the fragrance from 8 to 8.5. Caution, it is really seasonal, analogous to winter tires.