DarkWinterCS

Flittering flakes, damp-cold air, and crackling firewood. Silence in the forest and lost in thought. Despite the November blues and contemplative times, a warm glow brightens many deep souls here. Bright, uplifting, and secure. A velvety cushion of velour waiting by the fire, inviting you into a world full of affection. The soft crackle of flames.

No aging images of Roman-Greek memories that Memo wants to express here.
Nevertheless, the symbolism fits with the tool in hand to create something wonderful, perhaps even monumental for culture in the next step. Ruler, hammer, and chisel for the right proportions and creative freedom. Perhaps nothing new, yet something that awakens desires.

Memo creates a scent here that stays in my memory. A perfect harmony that Celine also achieved with "Black Tie | Celine," making the theme of vanilla accessible in a way that no one else had before.

Instead of the creamy-powdery orientation, it is a wonderful play with spices and smoke here, evoking fascination and allowing me to dream. The balance, which I see as a decisive point every time, is implemented here again. Not the performance or the annoyingly persistent presence.

Delicate vanilla, underlaid with light tonka bean and a hint of cinnamon. A little vetiver adds an earthy touch and a certain strength. Alone, this would be too much over time, which is why a wonderfully creamy-resinous smoke is introduced, which is not sharp, greasy, or overly intense. Exactly the amount needed to turn a good scent into an outstanding one.

For this reason, the monothematic composition or the lack of development is never bothersome. Here, the focus was on simplicity and creating the best possible outcome from this combination of ingredients. The spot next to Black Tie is surely his, and thus the three figures of the bottle have done a good job.

Herb, classic allure, green and citrusy.
A combination of scent characteristics that usually doesn't appeal to me in perfumes. This may be due to the way I came to fragrances and which ones intrigued me as a teenager. On the other hand, it might also stem from the extremes that typically confront one in the fragrance landscape.

I have made many attempts on my part. A hit or two was even successful, yet I have never been able to fully embrace this DNA. Basso now tried to steer this definitively in a direction that should please me. However, with thoughts of Terre d'Hermès Eau de Toilette and "Oligarch (Eau de Parfum) | Roja Parfums," I wasn't sure if it would succeed. Oligarch was too herbaceous for me, TDH always had just a bit too much vetiver. Still, I would like to be convinced, as No. 007 already showed wonderfully that it can work.

Basso initially conveyed exactly what I expected. Citrus that was zesty and simultaneously herbaceous through grapefruit. Juicy, with a green undertone of vetiver without overly riding on that impression of freshly cut grass. Ginger, which gives a fresh and slightly soapy touch to the skin. Pepper, in a more fruity form of pink pepper, as well as the spicy component of the black variation. Along with woods that formed a foundation and projected a rougher bed. I definitely also perceive galbanum, which lounges greenish and slightly rubbery in the background.

I can hardly imagine that this scent is so popular. Quite distinctive, fairly masculine, and yet somehow contrary to the scent development of the broader masses, which tends to be sweeter, fruitier, and oud-like.
Still, it evokes a certain fascination in me that I can't quite describe. I definitely need to take my time with this, as it takes longer to make a "click" for me than the aforementioned Floris.

There is nothing to complain about regarding longevity and sillage, as it is prominently noticeable at the beginning and projects clouds around the neck over time. The wood and green notes keep the scent alive for a really long time.

Is there vanilla in hell?
If so, then it’s served cold, like a stirring stick in a Coke.

With "Vanille Diabolique | Renoir," I feel like I've seen everything that can be done with vanilla. From classic to modern.
This one? Out there.
Totally unconventional, almost artisanal and artistic. An Enigma pour Homme Parfum with more pronounced performance and a slightly over-the-top top note.
Although it’s not that over-the-top, it does give a brief flash of the DNA stars that hint at what lies within this fragrance. Citrusy, almost piercingly fizzy. A slight sweetness, spiced vanilla, and then cinnamon with cardamom.

From the very beginning, the cola wants to jump in my face, splashing around, almost ginger-like. It crackles on the skin and in the nose, even though the vanilla is already sneaking in the background, releasing a hefty cloud. Not the kind that leans towards baking aroma, but with the cola, it feels substantial, almost like smeared vanilla pulp on the neck. Wow, here we go. A cocktail for the whole bar.

Alcohol is poured, spice is distributed. Everyone gets to sniff, everyone gets to lick. Chewed cardamom pods, cinnamon sticks as stirring sticks and straws. It keeps crackling, the refreshment hasn’t faded yet.
Then it’s actually there, this vanilla of hell. Warm, soft, familiar yet new. Somewhat unspectacular, yet still pleasantly fragrant. Supported by warm resinous notes and still a certain spiciness.

But somehow, I feel like something is missing. "Vanilla Diorama | Dior," a similar composition, is executed much better and I prefer its French style significantly. The balance of the DNA was more convincing there, and especially, the vanilla-orange combination was much more beautiful in the nose.

This cola breeze is somewhat bothersome in the long run and obscures some nuances of the fragrance. Especially, the cloud of sillage feels different from the perceived notes of the wearer. My wife almost gasped from the hidden vanilla in the top note.

Good attempt, though.

Admittedly, I held off on testing this fragrance for a long time, but now I was looking forward to it after some time. Excitement was probably the more fitting word, despite my impressions of Oud 31. Because that one didn't resonate well with me. I didn't like the overall progression, the typical Carbonnel formula was more than visible, and thus the parallels to his previous works were evident. Overall, it was a rather disappointing experience for me.
When the announcement for Cherry X came, I was less euphoric than with the first release. Partly due to my experiences with Oud 31 and also because of the cherry theme. This note has been ruined for me too often. Whether through a cloyingly sweet variant like Lost Cherry Eau de Parfum or through a beautiful DNA that was then ruined by terrible performance, like in Cherry Punk Eau de Parfum. Then there was the thought of too strong tonka bean, etc. So my concerns were quite clear in my eyes.

But now I felt like testing it and dared to do so despite or precisely because of the negative opinions that are often more related to the person. Just to say, I also find some advertising placements too artificially pushed to the forefront, but I do occasionally discover a new scent that pleases my nose.

Cherry X is different, different from the cherry scents I’ve had under my nose before. In the direction I had hoped for. More mature, darker, less of that synthetic marzipan cocktail cherry. That's a good thing, as it sets itself apart from the usual crowd and is quite pleasing. The comparisons to the craftsmanship of Side Effect are not completely unfounded, but without that annoying chemical note of the musk wood that ruins every Initio for me and which Aaron Terence Hughes also uses. So that's already a clear plus point.

The fragrance starts with a beautiful cherry reminiscent of Amarena. Darker, riper, yet not too sweet or even sticky-jammy. Rather juicy and with a slightly almondy undertone that is very seductive. After 10 minutes, however, that’s it for the fruit, as it only returns in the base. In the top notes, there’s a bit of barrel wood and a minimal hint of alcohol, which keeps the marzipan character more subtle and thus not annoying.
When the heart notes begin, the BUT that I mentioned in the headline comes into play. Resinous notes like incense and styrax come through, along with amber, vanilla, and oud. This combination is, in my opinion, the weakest part of the fragrance, ruining a good half hour of the composition and unfortunately dragging down the score. In the blend and on my skin, it smells like warm candle wax or harsh beeswax. Totally inappropriate for my nose and feels somehow misplaced and wrong. As if I were wearing something else that I don’t want to acknowledge as it develops. Fortunately, it only lasts for about half an hour. This waxy, slightly resinous-smoky aspect is just not for me. Unfortunately, I don't know exactly how this impression arises, but it can almost only be the oud-resin blend with vanilla.

In the base, it gets significantly better again, especially something for fans of Kilian fragrances. Dark, very subdued cherry, which can only be perceived in the distant background. An alcoholic note that can be sniffed out like a nice cognac barrel. A hint of vanilla, charred wood. Nice to sniff, very pleasant to wear, and again not overwhelming, rather light and sensual.

I actually find the fragrance beautiful overall, I would even consider a bottle without that strange middle part, but the heart wants to ruin it for me. Currently, it just misses an 8.5. Maybe I’ll get used to it someday, but for now, that part is off-putting to me. Especially since the performance is completely sufficient and is never annoyingly perceived by those around me. Not a room-filling scent that causes everyone to gasp, but discreet, elegant, and still noticeable. Plus, about 7-8 hours of longevity, which I find sufficient.

Anyone truly looking for a well-composed cherry scent will find it here, because aside from the - for me - difficult middle, this is a really beautiful fragrance that will surely find its fans more quickly than Oud 31. Therefore, the evaluation without any hype is simply unjustified and unfair.

Here we see once again the double standards of many reviewers. If the person behind the fragrances is such a problem, then every Guerlain scent should get 0 points, if one were to consider the disgusting statements of Jean-Paul Guerlain.

Oud is good, at least when you have made the journey through the variants and different regions of harvesting/production. Only then can you truly get to know the quality of the raw material and make well-founded statements. However, it is also possible to create a good and rounded fragrance with minimal amounts of natural ouds or synthetic equivalents. This is less common, but fundamentally it is possible.

After so many years, one can also consider the fragrance material as "sucked dry." There is little that is truly new, many infusions and uninspired DNAs. But now and then, you find one or another fragrance that either mixes new nuances or puts a perfect balance into a previously known and uninspired formula.
With "Mango Aoud | Gritti," I recently encountered a case where oud was only used as a supporting component and thus carried the fragrance very well. It does not smell like oud, but the intention behind it is clear, even if most attribute a misleading name to the fragrance with false promises.

Another offshoot of perfectly combining components can now be found with "Numero V | Adamo," which aims to bring together chocolate, coffee, and oud. This is also presented very well; however, despite its beautiful sillage, I am left feeling somewhat ambivalent.
This is largely due to the base of the fragrance, as the beginning is already heavenly...

Numero V starts with a wonderful chocolate note, which, together with the roasted aromas of coffee, delivers a sensual and almost chewable interpretation that lasts deep into the heart notes. Bitter dark chocolate with the typical aromas of a high cocoa content flows smoothly and assimilates everything that comes its way in terms of oud. Oud plays a rather subordinate role at the beginning and is used, as in the aforementioned Gritti, as a supporting note to give the chocolate even more depth and spice.
You can already smell it; it comes like a magical cloud, an inspiration and a realized barista dream, the coffee. Although, it is more the roasting of a coffee, the slow grinding of the intensely aromatic beans, which give off a wonderful sensuality and provide the chocolate-oud mixture with an even darker and spicier note while simultaneously being uplifting. A contradiction, yet it works this way and has no animalistic component. Extra Virgo has taken a similar direction with "Animal Café | Extra Virgo," but it felt too heavy and coarse. In contrast, Numero V is the beginner-friendly version of that.

Only in the base do I notice the slightly synthetic traits of the oud on my skin, which show through the typical aroma that one finds in most fragrances with oud. Can I overlook this? Maybe. Do I still enjoy it up to this point? Definitely.

And yet, in the end, there remains a melancholic feeling that this fragrance could have blossomed into an absolute masterpiece with just a few more percent.