Chnokfir

As an introductory word, I must confess: I am not a Rammstein fanboy.
I was once rather by chance on an admittedly very atmospheric and energetic Rammstein concert, but I do not own any CDs or fan shirts of them. I still listen to their music from time to time. When I have to concentrate in the office to do the advance VAT return, for example. Or when we go to Aunt Frida's for coffee and cake. Or when I choose some atmospheric and relaxing music to introduce the monthly marital duties. Further explanations about this would lead at this point, however, a little too far...

I got this fragrance as a prize of a competition - many thanks again at this point. But since I am known to be no fanboy, please forgive me if I can not draw analogies between this perfume and one or more Rammstein songs or even the band vita. I will also refrain from quoting songs - I can't think of any right away when sniffing this fragrance. Further explanations about this would lead at this point but something too far...

The perfume comes in a very simple white box with equally simple band logo and name of the fragrance. The bottle is then an equally matte white as unexciting square with a simple band logo. The printed structural formula of cocaine, on the other hand, makes my palms sweat - thanks to my lack of understanding of chemistry, I was in danger of failing out of high school two years in a row. Further explanations about this would lead a bit too far at this point... I am nevertheless positively taken by the quality of the presentation and the very fine spraying atomizer.

The first sniffer then drives me besides a tear also amazement and joy in the face. Off it goes with everything that could tickle one's nose: Pepper, incense, nutmeg and again pepper. Some bitter, tart green notes in the background. The pepper leaves after an hour, the incense stays and settles on a solid woody foundation. Eventually the sometimes metallic tingling notes subside and the woody notes become a little warmer, but never lose their rough and tangy charm.

In the first quarter of an hour, the fragrance hits you pretty in the face with its intensity, also remained the following one to two hours pretty strong. Only then it becomes more manageable, handsamer and also for the environment more pleasant and thus more portable. The woody chords are even in total very harmonious and well balanced. After a good eight to ten hours, but then the very last encore is played and the fragrance fades out indefinably.

In terms of chords, cocaine is by no means more blatant than so many niche fragrances, which can sometimes overwhelm one olfactorically. Nevertheless, it is strong in its expression and rather unconventional in the mainstream of a drugstore fragrance. Also, durability, radiation and especially the qualitative impression are impressive for a fragrance in this price range. You can take the times incidentally so and makes nothing wrong ... unless you can start with the fragrance notes so nothing at all.

Due to its rather dry and strict interpretation, I would attribute cocaine rather men than women. By the way, extremely remarkable is the fact that my wife can suffer this fragrance on me, he even like to smell himself! Nevertheless, she doesn't want to dispute the bottle with me. Consequently, no marital quarrel, no reconciliation sex, no involvement in rituals already mentioned above. Further explanations about this would lead at this point but also clearly too far...

Buy the fragrance, it is limited, but cheap and pretty good

There are a few fragrance houses, I can not help but test everything that is newly packed into the shelf, whether it fits the Beuteschema or not. I don't want to say that I'm a fan boy regarding Atelier Cologne, but the brand has done it to me and most fragrances have something, although many do not necessarily fit me. But after I already fell for "Eau de Mandarine Ambrée" by Hermès against all expectations, all my antennas went up with "Clémentine California". But what does the name mean to me? A reminiscence of the times of more than 70 years ago, when Southern California was still famous for its citrus plantations? Capturing a lifestyle in an L.A. neighborhood for those who can't afford Malibu, Long Beach or Beverly Hills? Fortunately, I can shake all those ideas from the marketing department good and fast.

In front of me the usual 200ml brick with the nicely rounded corners and edges. Is actually nix particularly to it, but I have the bottle damn gladly in the hand, a real Handschmeichler. SHE claims I always look so in love when I hold the bottle in my hand. Jealousy! The light blue band harmonizes well with the burgundy leather button and the clear, just slightly yellowish liquid. The white cardboard is as wonderfully unpretentious as the brightly printed slipcase is unnecessarily overloaded with street cruisers, movie flaps, clementines, and other odds and ends. Box in the depot, bottle on the shelf.

A very fine spray from the high-quality atomizer and already the fragrance lives up to its name. So, if you now delete the "California" from the name. I was already two times in California, but there are now no memories awaken. Instead, orange citrus galore. No other citrus fruits are thrown into the punch bowl because they have to go or they would round off the potpourri, it's really clementine and mandarin pure, maybe with hints of blood oranges, but that's it. Delicious is this accord, very delicious. And also pleasantly fruity and juicy, without sour, citrusy notes spoiling the fun. This impression settles with time and slightly green, sometimes tingling, sometimes a bit bitter notes are added, softened by warm and soft woody tones. The green and bitter fades again with time, the fruit and the wood remain. Until the end.

And that's just as well! There is nix worse, than a fragrance, in which the nominally named main property prematurely makes the exit! No, the fruitiness remains and that even over a long office day. For 12-14 hours, I perceive "Clémentine California" well without it becoming overpowering at the beginning. The silage remains at a pleasant level, significantly more than the now standard arm's length, yet the scent does not become room filling or even penetrating. Devilish, how did they manage that and all the other companies barely manage that anymore?

I'm talking about a fruity, slightly sweet, but not too sticky-sweet, soft fragrance, which without colorful floral notes yet has a slightly floral touch. Sounds very feminine at first. But through its woody notes, this is somewhat dampened and the fragrance gives a very strong summer impression, so that it again does not look out of place on a man. Now summer does not mean leisure, the fragrance also fits very well in the office. I've also worn the scent a lot in winter, it fits perfectly there too, maybe because clementine goes hand in hand with Advent in our house. "Clémentine California" is a unisex fragrance par excellence, for always and everywhere - I could not yet think of any situation in which the fragrance would not have fit.

Who stands on orange citrus fragrances, which should test "Clémentine California" in any case, which goes always and everywhere. Initially, I still had serious concerns about how I should ever get the 200ml empty. Meanwhile, I wonder if I still have to get this year a new Pulle.

Casa de Coco - a new fragrance house has sought its place in the niche perfumeries. It tries to tell a story from the Andes with Inca priests and mysterious plants. I admit that I am not too receptive to such storyboards. I quickly tune out the words of the sales staff and try to fathom what my nose is trying to tell me.

But first, there's the bottle. An almost cubic square with a pale yellow liquid and a massive button on top, reminiscent of a metallic, embossed leaf. The bottle slumbers in a plain beige cardboard box with recessed lettering and a metallic seal. Like it all in its simplicity, but I can't connect it to South American cultures.

The fragrance is a green freshness bomb from the start. Dominate initially still the citric chords of lemon and lime, so they take themselves after half an hour slowly back and give the green notes their place, where now and then also some extremely pleasant aquatic touches are there. But the fragrance remains herbaceous green for a few hours, before woods come to it and finish with a soft, sweet bed.

Paq'os is a green scent. What his meaning "Inca priest" wants to tell me thereby, I do not recognize it unfortunately. Because these green notes are all plain and little sublime. And instead of its South American origin, where I would look for exotic fragrance components, I would rather locate the fragrance in Italy. Although here I miss the numerous different chords with all their rough edges of the green Italian gentlemen classics quite.

In contrast, Paq'os is green-clean. Clearly unisex and tailored to a young, modern clientele. Very restrained and thus ideal for a short office day in the open-plan office with a few trivial meetings and telcos and a business lunch, where a little later no one can remember who was there and what they discussed or ate.

Yet Paq'os is by no means a trivial fragrance. He is good in his soft-green expression and my durability of just under eight hours also acceptable. But it doesn't live up to its name and the story behind the fragrance house. In any case, I don't recognize anything here. Had I perhaps but better listened.

Last summer, when you could still test scents to some extent in perfumeries despite MNS, I was neither on the hunt, nor on the search, but strolled so past the shelf meters, when a voice asked me from diagonally behind in this wonderful little perfumery in Regensburg, whether I was looking for something specific. "A fragrance that suits me!" was my freely improvised answer. Not ten seconds later, I had the first test strip under my nose. There I stood now in my worn-out Adidas sambas, a baggy pair of jeans and a washed-out Iron Maiden tour shirt, wondering how, with my fragmentary knowledge of French, I was supposed to reconcile "Beau de Jour" with my question.

Let me put it this way: I am not a Tom Ford fan boy. Rightfully so, "Grey Vetiver" and "For Men" are in my collection, but other than that? I admit, these 15-meter-long glossy counter in the flagship stores with their scarce 438 different flacons make already what her and are also regularly departed from me, but it never comes to the purchase. On the one hand, the price-performance ratio does not convince me so at all, on the other hand, the flacons with these absolutely cheap plastic plugs, which just do not want to sit, annoy me so right - for such a thing I do not spend a penny.

But here I have with "Beau de Jour" suddenly a simple glass cylinder with fine fluting in the hand, on which a silver plaque is emblazoned, above a solid silver Knöpke with ebensolcher fluting, which also closes after a perfect fit and does not wiggle like a lamb's tail. The pale yellow liquid also lends a classic, classy appearance. The certainly looks good next to "Grey Vetiver", I think to myself so.

"Classic" is then also the first thought when I do after the first sniff. There is first of all nothing but lavender, but of the withdrawn, dry variety, which do not immediately think of Aunt Elfriede or lavender pillows. There are quickly more green Mediterranean impacts, there are dry herbs, there is oak moss and a very withdrawn and soft patchouli.

"Beau de Jour" is a very classic men's fragrance from a long-forgotten time, which immediately brings back memories of fragrances that you used to smell so often, fragrances that you used to have in your collection, fragrances that have long since been discontinued at the big chains and for the most part are either reformulated beyond recognition or, sadly, have long since been discontinued.

Nevertheless, I can dispel any question, this fragrance does not smell of yesterday: no appeal of moth-box or grandma's bank advisor with the worn leather elbow pads on the jacket. No, "Beau de Jour" smells clearly classic, but not stale. The peaks that would make the lavedel smell sharp have been toned down. The soapy notes that make up any classic lavedel are still there, too, but they don't intrude. This gives the impression of being wrapped in a soft cloak that encloses you safely and firmly. Although some of the radiation and durability has been lost, but "Beau de Jour" is still quite expressive and also remains significantly longer differentiated perceptible than many modern fragrances.

What to say "Beau de Jour" looks good next to my "Grey Vetiver." And when I wear "Beau de Jour", I swap my black band shirts for a plaid shirt once again. Even if currently no one sees it because of Lockdown and home office. But I'm still a small-checkered accountant, so the outfit should match the fragrance.

Wintertime is stew time! True, but doesn't quite fit the theme....

But wintertime is also southern fruit time. This wisdom comes from a time when you could not buy any fruit on any day of the year in any discount store (which did not exist at that time), because fruits and vegetables were not yet flown to Germany every day freshly caught from all parts of the world. At that time, citrus fruits lasted several days and weeks in the fruit bowl and you could safely send them in a package to the dear relatives in the East Zone, which at that time took two to three weeks by mail without them immediately rotting away. At that time I was hooked by the taste and the sweet smell of mandarins, which you can hardly find nowadays, because you can almost only buy clementines, a cross between mandarins and bitter oranges, with the wish to cross out the annoying seeds as a hybrid. In the process, unfortunately, the flavor has largely fallen by the wayside. Visit the well-sorted fruit shop around the corner - as far as they still exist - and do a tasting of a real mandarin compared to the discounter clementine. The difference is as glaring as between Angus pastured beef and Styrofoam. Vegetarians and vegans substitute tofu for the beef, but the difference should still be similar. This is just as a brief commodity fact beforehand.

Who ever strolls past an Hermès counter with all the wonderfully illuminated bottles, the eyes are certainly stuck with one or the other color. With me, it is naturally mostly orange. A very intense yet natural color, a gorgeous splash of color for any perfume collection. I'm a sucker for that standard massive yet delicate Hermes bottle, but in this just reminiscent of clear amber color, it's quite special. The black knob goes well with it, but also isn't distracting, and the atomizer reliably disperses a fine mist. Overall, a fine package.

With the first sniff receive and embrace one also immediately the fruits. Depending on the mood of the day and one smells first sometimes more passion fruit, sometimes more tangerine. But these two fruits play, dance, circle around each other, sometimes one leads, sometimes the other. At the same time, they complement each other in a wonderful way with their natural fruit, with their acidity, with their sweetness, their juiciness. Overall, the mandarin lasts longer with me, the passion fruit fades slightly after three to four hours. If its acidity decreases, a warm and soft accord spreads in the base, which supports and underpins the tangerine brilliantly, but never displaces.

On me, the fragrance lasts a good eight to ten hours, sometimes longer and remains over the time also very pleasantly present. However, since the scent progression is minimal thanks to the few fragrance chords, you can always add, especially in the summer, to intensify the olfactory experience again, without the chords would ever bite. I have made the experience that "Eau de Mandarine Ambrée" is also excellent for layering with other Hermès fragrances. A spritz of "Bel Ami" or "Equipage" over it and you have a slightly more tart and masculine impact. On the other hand, a spritz of "Eau de Mandarine Ambrée" on the classic "Bel Ami" or "Equipage" offers a friendlier, more summery face. These scents don't clash, but can complement each other beautifully when layered sparingly. Overall, I would not want to talk about a women's or men's fragrance with "Eau de Mandarine Ambrée", it is clearly wearable by everyone, because it is generally unisex due to its fruit as in aromatherapy.

In general, I see "Eau de Mandarine Ambrée" less as a fragrance, but as a mood-lifting companion that simply spreads good mood. Whether in the office or in leisure, this fragrance fits always and at any time of year. It is not perceived as disturbing, although I always get surprised looks, because the environment first looks for the fruit and only notices with time that I smell like that. Is perhaps also because that the fragrance chords are very intense on the one hand, but always have an absolutely unadulterated and especially natural character.

As I said, "Eau de Mandarine Ambrée" is good mood in drop form, perhaps not necessarily for everyone a must-have, but extensively tested you should have him in any case times.

By the way, the orange originated from the crossing of mandarin and grapefruit. But that only in the margin ...