Cilly

The scent is green, but so different from the green fragrances I have encountered before. It is not the magical green of ‘Ninfeo Mio’. No delicate spring green and no summer sun green. Not the milky fig leaf green of ‘Ichnusa’. Not the lightly wilted salad green of ‘Panorama’ and also not the favorite leather hay green of ‘Irish Leather’.

Le Loden starts off intensely dry and smoky. It’s hard to get more vetiver than this. A strict, dark olive green, interspersed with gray-green streaks and dry smoke. A deciduous forest floor in winter, with smoke swirling between lifeless dark trees.

But then the seasons seem to move backwards. The deep dark gray-green slowly develops warmer nuances. Life timidly begins to emerge in the forest. Autumn is slowly approaching. Spicy wood resin notes and nearby, stubble fields are being burned. Juniper and pink peppercorns have those typical resinous notes, and there’s a hint of sweetness, perhaps it’s the geranium. Towards the end, the scent becomes softer and more reconciliatory. Ylang-ylang fortunately does not come through; it actually serves only subtly as a counterbalance to patchouli and tobacco. And still, vetiver. For hours. A mature, contemplative green that Yatagan might appreciate...

Flower power and hippie times. And I was right in the middle of it. Flokati carpet. Flower dresses and monster platform shoes. I was part of it. Incense sticks. Wild nights in Schwabing. Sit-ins at the art academy. I was part of that too. Cigarettes and alcohol. Of course. Just one thing I never did: I never smoked weed. Honestly!
And that's why I have no idea what cannabis smells like...

... but if it smells like the 'stuff' I just sprayed on, then I obviously missed out on something back then.

'Black Hashish' by 'ArteOlfatto' does not come across as hippie-like at all, but rather quite serious. The bottle feels heavy, very heavy in hand. It weighs almost 400 g. It really needs a man's hand for that. The label has a linen texture and gold lettering, matching the gold-colored cap, which alone weighs 96 g.

The scent has everything I like: incense, tobacco, coffee, and oud. So far, it already reminds me of the student lifestyle back then. 'Black Hashish' does not start off black at all, but beautifully green like sage with sweet resinous notes, into which coffee and tobacco scents gradually blend without completely overpowering them. During an almost endless longevity, cedar and sandalwood float into the fragrance mix. For me, the transitions from top to heart and base notes are hardly recognizable. Everything intertwines. Beautiful.

I like this scent on me. However, I can almost imagine it even better on a man. He could appeal to me. As long as he doesn't wear a sheepskin vest or a batik shirt.

Just the name piqued my curiosity, as I am known for my love of pepper and its abundant consumption - pepper in all variations and from different countries of origin. From jungle pepper from Sri Lanka and Madagascar to Tellicherry pepper from the Malabar coast of India, to shadow-dried red Kampot pepper. Hardly a meal goes by without being crowned with freshly ground pepper, and when I’m out and about, there’s usually a mini pepper mill in my handbag, in case there’s only the dusty, lifeless powder in the shaker - the greatest culinary insult for me!

As soon as I discovered “Intense Pepper” here on Parfumo, I got the chance to participate as the second-to-last participant in a sharing and eagerly awaited the arrival of the pepper fragrance!

The opening is fresh; yes, there is indeed the scent of freshly ground black pepper, the exciting moment when the essential oils with their multifaceted aromas are released at the moment of grinding. It smells typically peppery with dark fruits and dark smoke, interspersed with intensely fresh bright and resinous notes of eucalyptus and pine needles. Over these tones, the resinous-bitter sweetness of pink peppercorns asserts itself, which faintly reminds me of juniper. It feels like a scent duel between both spices for dominance in the top note, which lasts delightfully long and plays along until the end.

In addition, I smell a wonderful, very prominent fruitiness that can never come solely from the pepper: it is the scent of bitter oranges, unsweetened orange syrup, and candied orange peel, which are not mentioned at all in the pyramid, but are so present that their bitter-fresh orange note dominates the floral heart notes, which I cannot pinpoint individually, and extends into the base. Only here do oud, cedar, and a rather defensive amber manage to overlay the bitter orange, but they cannot completely overpower the fruit - much to my delight!

Thus, “Intense Pepper” is a fruity-peppery, almost cheerful gourmand with a woody base, not heavy like some other gourmand fragrances that derive their opulence from dates, cinnamon, cocoa, honey, or almonds. “Intense Pepper” is therefore not just a fragrance for dark autumn and winter days, but is also perfectly suitable for wearing in spring and summer - perhaps not necessarily during the bright day. But I can wonderfully imagine it on a balmy summer evening.

“Intense Pepper” truly deserves its name: it is as intense as I like, while not being heavy and lasting quite a long time. A fragrance for pepper lovers, orange fans, and wood enthusiasts, equally exciting for men as for women.

A dear friend gifted me the new Memo fragrance “Ilha do Mel,” which was supposed to be a ‘green’ scent, and I was thrilled because I’m totally into green during springtime. Fresh and herbal green. But reading the ingredients raised big question marks on my forehead. Especially my nemeses Jasmine and Orange Blossom made me recoil inwardly and wrinkle my nose. No, no, no, this is not for me, it can’t be! How could it be, when I usually go for Oud, Cedar, and Tobacco?

But - one should not treat such a valuable gift like a gifted horse, but with respect and gratitude. So I bravely aimed a spray on the back of my left hand, held my breath, and then cautiously approached...

Thousands of very sweet scent molecules invade my olfactory cells, followed by countless floral scent molecules. Anticipating my own outcry, I hold my breath. I do not scream. Huh?

Yes, it is sweet. Very, very sweet indeed. But certainly not overtly honey-sweet, as the name “Ilha do Mel” (= Honey Island) had made me suspicious. Instead, it is fruity sweet, and I find mandarins quite delicious. And I somehow like hyacinths too, as they are the first harbingers of spring when they slowly grow up under silvery colorful paper hats on the windowsill and eventually fill the whole room with a narcotic floral scent. But there is more. There is a lot of green in it - my friend did not overpromise - juicy, fresh green, like the long leaves of the hyacinths and the dark green leaves of the mandarins. Even my spice-sensitive nose cannot really pinpoint the juniper, but perhaps it helps to temper the sweet-floral aspect with its resinous and woody notes.

The flowers are really getting going now: Since flowers are not my area of expertise, I cannot identify them all clearly. It feels more like entering an old-fashioned flower shop where bouquets are still tied by hand. It is this wonderful mélange of green and cool freshness, moisture, and floral sweetness. I can distinctly identify Jasmine and Orange Blossom, but they are not as overpowering as in other fragrances. More noble and refined, perhaps it is due to the Absolute, the more precious raw material. Maybe it is the Broom that adds a fine honey note, and Iris that softens the sharp edges of the scent concert, or perhaps it is Vetiver that is already playing a part.

Slowly, the scent becomes softer and calmer, with gentle vanilla and subtle musk. And me? I am surprised by myself. That I like to wear such a fragrance. Flowers, not at all my usual preference. And yet, this new Memo has something.

Like all Memo fragrances I know, it is very well made. No scent from the Memo collection is like another. Apparently, they do not skimp on good ingredients.

On ‘Aus Liebe zum Duft,’ you can read a ‘poetic’ description of the fragrance. I read it three times and did not really feel addressed.

Quote: “Rays of honey sweetened the jasmine of my awakening. Their sweetness makes me crave musk, the palm fronds sway with your devilish smile...”

More of a word storm than poetry and little concrete description of the scent. But it is not my job to criticize texts.

One does not need to travel mentally or actually to the Brazilian Honey Island to imagine this scent. Today, after many wonderfully sunny days, we had the first rain. Thrushes, Bullfinches, and colleagues chirped and sang as if unleashed. Nature breathed through. Everything smelled fresh and green and juicy and floral-sweet. Honey Island in a Hamburg backyard. Wonderful!

Back to the scent:

Perhaps “Ilha do Mel” is THE fragrance for all flower girls, for young women in spring and for mild summer evenings. But why must one be young for that? My Aunt Lotte was in her late 60s, weighed nearly 100 kilos, and smelled intensely of lily of the valley. So anyone who is not quite so young anymore, but is confident and doesn’t care about the youth craze, can wear this fragrance without any problem. I’m already on board. Not always, but more and more often...

With spring, everything is sprouting in every corner, not only lovely hyacinths, primroses, and lily of the valleys, but also wildly proliferating ground elder, which quickly takes over entire gardens and forms particularly stubborn underground roots. Yes, I know, it’s healthy too, especially in green smoothies, but I really don’t like it in the garden. So I boldly reached into the soil and pulled at the ground elder. I’m sure I only caught half a root strand, but already this unmistakable green-herbaceous scent rises to my nose, similar to that of cow parsnip, which is even more difficult to eradicate.

Very intense, herbaceous green, young nettles play a part, but gradually softer green tones emerge, and ethereal-fresh cardamom is also recognizable. Further back in the garden lies a patch of grass, but I mowed the lawn just yesterday, so I don’t find the grass note particularly ‘fresh’; instead, my beloved fig leaf scent is now spreading, gently sweetly layering over yesterday's grass and all that herbaceousness, and now and then a refreshing breeze wafts from the firs at the back of the garden fence.

As loud and spectacular as the opening is, this phase quickly passes and transitions into a milder, relatively close-to-skin green that becomes increasingly softer and sweeter, without completely losing its herbaceous tones.

Conclusion:
There are greener and fresher green scents. Panorama was not love at first sniff. By the way, there’s no trace of wasabi. It took a while to like it. Now I already like it. But it probably won’t be a great love...