Chizza

For a long time I was looking for a kind of summer oud, a colognesque work with a clear oud impact. In the meantime, I forgot this desire until I met then Yellow Lemon Tree. Unfortunately, in the concentration at the time long sold out, but not inspiring. The brand informed me in dialogue, Yellow Lemon Tree comes back sometime. It felt partly like waiting for Godot, but finally it was so far, but with a changed concentration, namely as an extrait. But - I take it in advance - this gave the fragrance a little more seriousness without losing the summery verve, however, because less lightness here means a certain plus in depth without wanting to be complex, however.

This, by the way, is the criticism that reached me so far from some people. It was proclaimed lack of diversity, lack of change in Yellow Lemon Tree but I ask: who exactly has claimed that this must always be? Isn't it enough to be able to olfactorically enjoy a refreshing, light, unapologetic fragrance? It is for me. Here already, because nothing else I expected, sought and demanded.

Undoubtedly, it starts citrusy, thanks to the animalic notes, the summer ingredients take on a darker, more mature and deeper essence. Summer becomes late summer, perhaps even autumn on warm days when many a withered leaf has already been lowered and the sun is no longer glaringly glaring in the firmament but Sol directs her sun chariot brightly, but interspersed with warm blush and not hot rays. Here, the moderate yet distinct lavender helps to create appealing character traits. Also the ginger is conciliatory, accompanies rather than in the course to emerge clearly.

Generally, the floral notes are overlaid by the density, intense citrus, which seems to be at its own zenith, provide no more than refining nuances, chisel the hesperidic ground. Successively, the scenery shifts to animalic-inspired showpieces. Creamy sandalwood with typical olfactory characteristics, a leathery touch settles over the citrus, similar to the well-known summer leather creations. But here, of course, more happens.

While the citrus says goodbye like a lukewarm October sun, the extremely introverted oud peels out here. It is never monologuing protagonist, is accompanied by the already mentioned sandalwood as well as other, rather delicate woody notes. Frankincense should not be imagined as smoky here, slightly resinous facets are added. No more, no less.

Thus ends my search for the summer oud; quaere et invenies. The perfume house has other, quite comparable fragrances, Rising Mysore is to be mentioned here, the hesperidic accentuation seems to me only slightly changed. Dixit & Zak can be recommended, the brand offers many interesting fragrances. Only the pricing policy seems questionable to me, significant increases as well as additionally with higher concentrations disproportionately more to demand, this may turn out to be a mistake at some point. Nevertheless, in the spirit of a sandwich review, I highlight the fragrance for you in the end. In my eyes, this is a classy "oud cologne". Period.

Ash. Ash. Gloomy sky, fire, smoke, dystopia, enemy of man, destructive juggernaut. There is so much that could be painted here in terms of imagery, from post-apocalyptic gloom to decline and whatnot. What I find exciting about this fragrance besides the theme is the perfumer's previous artistry, Lost Tribe otherwise stood out for wonderful floral works with ambergris. The latter is also included here, that was it in common.

Here we see a diametrically opposed to this work. Ash is not a fire that has just ignited, no scorching chips rush through the air, it is not smoke that envelops everything in poisonous, devouring smoke. Rather, it is a column of smoke that has largely already faded; cold and subtly altering the green environment, towards a minty, earthy aroma, as if the ground were interwoven. Mitti Attar is listed as an ingredient and this one really harmonizes well with the dark green notes here. We have a slightly peppery base, largely based on dry woods paired with grassy green vetiver. Relatively aromatic yet at the same time not unique. This is a result found in many smoky scents. Smoke infused wood, not burnt but rather like a roof that never caught fire, yet was exposed to it. Rounded here, no scratchy accents, which some similar creations unfortunately possess.

Basically Lost Tribe is hereby times a somewhat different fragrance succeeded, crafted well. The persistence of Ash is not impressive and so we are actually talking about a dwell time similar to an extinguishing smoke column, here now rather rod, initially at least steady. The scent shows no changes in the course, is also not particularly extroverted. In this respect, there is not much left for me to say except:

I evaporate
And drift slowly
into the unknown
With the cold winds of the soul

Dear Parfumo diary,

today I went on a time travel to countries long before our time. Ok, before my time. My entourage knew the time still very well. I was accompanied by older gentlemen, weather-beaten their countenance, the hair in my memory white as snow, perhaps one or the other also carried a wig, it was usual at their time decades ago, centuries, oh what, myriads at years. You will have recognized it, Yatagan and his crew were with me.

Actually, we were going to an event, an excavation for dinosaur enthusiasts, we had missed it, hence the time travel, which was many years too far. Actually, we only wanted to travel back to last Thursday. Instead, we were now stuck in the age of the dinosaurs, whether it was Cretaceous or whatever, I do not know.
We decided to wait, 2023 will come already. There I noticed a smell on one of the Yatagans, for simplicity and because of my poor memory for names I called them all the same with their powder wigs and robes. It was less animalistic than the dinos here but still herbaceously animalistic. Thyme, basil even refreshed thanks to the citrus. Some lavender was also in the air but of a moderate nature.
"Tell me....Yatagan II, what is it?"
"My name is Leonard."
"I say. Kenny, I mean Lenny, so?"
"Mixed it up here from my travel provisions, watch how that goes. I plan to release the 1980. However, due to time constraints and T-Rex population reasons, it still fluctuates."

Then it went on, herbaceous fresh, characteristic features like a dry coarseness joined the other olfactory impressions. And by coarse I do not mean Taueresk but rather a la rugged rock cliff. A gloomy note, for me now no longer animalic, climbed to the top of the scent. A fine smoke, which had penetrated leathery, herbaceous notes and now as a darker triumvirate rushed forward.
"Yes...that gives me an idea...Sturm und Drang...."
"Excuse me, Yatagan XIII?"
"Johann please."
"Of course. Johann. Now let me keep rambling on please and pretend I'm having a dialogue here."

So the melange became successively more introverted, but it retained its basic orientation. Much further I came then unfortunately no more because a Carnivor discovered us. Shortly before I was then eaten, I thought only:
"I have seen things that you humans would never believe. Giant ships that were burning, out off the shoulder of Orion. And I've seen C-beams, glittering in the dark, near the Tannhäuser Tor. All these moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain. Time to die."

Some fragrances are in the rain er I mean by Parfumo yet not completely lost, as I would realize if I had survived. Over and out.

"What can I do for you?"
"I want you to be the best, is that right?"
"Yes, of course. There's no one better. In Herne."
"I'm looking for the leather in Cuir Fleurissant."
"Ah, the perfume, I'll take care of it and at the same time refrain from a pun on croissant."
"Thank you very much Mr. Wolle Wollny, called Wolle. Where will you start your search?"
"Next door at the Greek restaurant. Today we always have a nice platter for lunch, Kreta, Waldemar or Dionysos or whatever it's called."

So the personified Herne local color started. Wolle, the first self-certified and certified perfume expert, founder and narrowly failed student of the Bachelor of Donvanvliet, would take the fragrance apart. If necessary, he would dazzle it, loudly proclaim his assumptions and then make a run for it. He really was the best at that. But what would Sherlock Wolle be without his better half? Dr. Huhn, as much in possession of a doctorate as Dr. Oetker, would assist. As in Star Trek, they both had subcutaneous transponders fitted so that Polly and her chatter could finally be understood. These didn't work, presumably because they were from an issue of the Yps magazine. So Polly's beak was bandaged and from then on she was more of a background gag.

Klaus-Werner, known to everyone as the Greek because of his pub and because he once traveled through Greece in 1985 in his old trucker life, was delighted when he saw the two of them. There was too much beer in stock, and he also liked to sell bird food at expensive prices. But when he saw Wolle looking serious and plonked a bottle of Cuir Fleurissant on the table, he felt quite uneasy about the impending disaster. Because of course he knew the scent. His old friend and engraver Angelos was responsible; they both used to go to sea as fishermen and also worked as pirates on the side until Klaus-Werner received the fateful phone call: Sportfreunde Lotte had lost to Westfalia Rhynern and another year in the Oberliga Westfalen was imminent. After that, nothing was the same again.

"Klaus-Werner, old Wemser, come and see me! What were you thinking with that smell? Where did you hide the leather here? In the pile of dried flowers or where? I smell mimosa here, carrots too, a bit of old powder."
"A little patience, you'll soon get to the part where you rub it all on your leather bush. And you'll like it, the leather note is dry and coarse and slightly animalistic thanks to some floral notes. Which is fitting when I look at how often you wash your leather clothes and trousers. Never?"

"Oh, I thought that was wilted, even brown green. These earthy notes, this delicate smoke, this missing birch tar. I almost felt like Bud & Terence when they got their beach buggy. The invisible one."
"No, no, there really is leather."
And there it was. As if hidden under layers or only visible to experienced noses, there was suede. Mediocre to inferior in quality, but it was there. So this fragrance lingered for many moments, living only slightly from variations.
Case solved. Wool end. Even if it's never completely gone. Woollen heart.

After Wolle had disappeared for months and his wife had remarried as a precaution, he was back. Officially he was in prison, unofficially he was working but no one from his rocker club should know that. Therefore, Wolle also concealed where he had his new fragrance. According to rumors from a Spanish port city, he himself gave as a source his prison brother Triple B, Bad Bald Basti. He regularly supplied him with new fragrances or a bouquet of flowers. MGO's '13 was supposed to be something special with a lot of development, finesse and variety. Wolle wore him on as he stepped off an old barge in Duisburg harbor again land.

His new flame, Ulla, picked him up.
"What's that strange smell? At first I thought it was wood with what at but now it smells like oily leather. Wool, you had washed though, didn't you?"
"Paperlapapp! Is my new fragrance water, MGO 13. the normal scents I do not like but this one, it has something! Especially the oily leather what still smells more groomed than me but that's another topic. It starts woody, kind of ethereal and still fresh. As if they had creamy sandalwood blended with the included ginger which provides the freshness kick. Especially since the cedar rounds out the woody notes appropriately."
"But it doesn't smell after that."
"Sorry, my deodorant failed."
"No, I mean the leather. There's something about it. Not like your greasy leather frock with the grease stains."

One went on and after Wool was mistaken for an artisan because of the scent, he resolved:
"Men, that's just my scent. This develops leathery through the oud, which smells moist resinous to it and gives the leather the workshop note. The saffron then still provides the touch of spiciness and coarseness. Qualitatively quite different from juniper on leather, which is kindred in the result."
"Wait a minute, wool, am I seeing this right? You like to smell like work but don't actually like to work?"
"Correct."

Over time, the sandalwood fights its way to the front, becoming creamier. But arriving home:
"Wool, what happened to your scent? You almost had me with it!"
"That's the shortcoming of MGO 13; the staying power is similar to mine, rather mediocre..."
Ulla was silent and then evaded:
"The important thing is that you're no longer the boozy biker who would be relatively safe in the event of a zombie apocalypse but now a man of style."
Suddenly, Wolle's cell phone rang out, Moldau, performed by the Slovak Philharmonic.
"I think that's me."
The voicemail jumped on:
"Wolle, Hotte here! Heard you were out! The gang from Castrop wants to challenge us, they still have old kegs of our local beer from Herne, the Eickel. 3 against 3, boozing from a kiddie pool, in which you sit at the same time and eat three kilos of sausages. We're counting on you!"
"....es is probably my destiny....."

No. 13 is a great scent, which is only rather crude for the first two hours. As soon as it becomes more wearable, No 13 quickly becomes paler, which may certainly then also be due to the more pleasing overall appearance. In this respect, predestined for higher consecrations, which remain unattained in the end. That's a pity because this Attar also shows the class of MGO. Here I would like to mention again how filigree the saffron in combination with the oud has been worked out.