Davide

Do you know that moment when you hear the DJ make a transition at a party and you recognize "Narcotic" (Liquido) by the keyboard sound?

Do you know what I mean when you hear that melody and you know for sure that it’s neither singing, nor guitar, nor drums, but definitely that very special keyboard? There’s another example. The DJ makes a transition and you hear that it’s "Jump" (Van Halen). Do you know what I mean when you recognize it once again by that very specific keyboard sound?

Suddenly, it’s not about you or anyone else. It’s about the spark that jumps to everyone. Then movement follows and boredom is gone.

Sometimes it’s the same with fragrances. It only takes milliseconds and you recognize they are there, cutting through the air like those keyboard sounds. They are irreplaceable, they are inimitable. Assertive = present. For connoisseurs, that means "good".

After those milliseconds, everyone’s attention is focused on these fragrances, just as everyone’s attention is on "Jump" or "Narcotic". A few milliseconds later, the cheers begin.

The cries of "penetrance" fade into a party inferno of humming and singing along. There must have been something convincing in the air, and DJs enjoy this moment every time. Conviction can be contagious.

Hey, one could say that both songs are timeless, or that some fragrances, like "L'Homme", are too. There are plenty of reasons why one can say that.

However, for me, the potential timelessness of this fragrance doesn’t matter. Rather: this fragrance has incredible assertiveness.

You can test that. Just spray 10 of today’s trendy citrus fragrances on paper. Place a "L'Homme" strip next to them.

Which of these fragrances stands out?

Test two is historical and selective: Compare…
- Habit Rouge edP
- L'eau D'issey pH
- YSL pH
- Versace L'Homme

What remains? Probably all of them. But which one stands out?

And with similar intentions, the composers at Van Halen and Liquido proceeded: They had more than ten keyboard sounds and one that stands out. This recognizability is the guarantee of success. It was also clear that the others would remain.

In the 1980s, many keyboards were used for this reason. People were already tired of guitar sounds; something fresh was needed. "Jump" appeared, just like "L'Homme" in the year "1984", which is also the name of the band’s album.

Both the song and the fragrance became all-time greats. The emphasis is on GREAT and, as mentioned, less on all-time. It’s about power, about the so-called "lead sound". It was clear that this was synthetic: These keyboards were called synthesizers. And in the fragrance world, they were looking for similarly striking aesthetics.

The keyboard starts the piece, and thus "L'Homme" (the man) begins the dance. Perhaps with a jump, perhaps with a narcotically confident look. This is not meant to be gender-typical: It happens in Nena’s "99 Luftballons" as well. The spark jumps over.

100 people of any gender wear citrus fragrances. One person wears "L'Homme" and thus holds the presence trophy.

It’s quickly decided what we will remember most clearly. In psychology, this is called the "primacy effect". The first impression counts. So it’s the "lead quality" of both the sound and the fragrance that I love from 1984, and in my opinion, this will resonate for centuries to come, and it has less to do with timelessness than with a proper claim to a perfume with signature quality and character.

Here it is.

Guess what? My keyboard teacher wore it even in the mid-90s, and thus it always takes me back to the moment when I learned to play "Jump" on my own synthesizer for the first time. With the original sound - of course.

Update 1:

Fragrance:

Top note: A tart lemon picked from the Italian lemon tree in your hand, you rub the peel and smell the lemon oil in the air. Honestly, I feel sorry for people who can only associate lemon with synthetic-chemical scents and only know it from bathroom products. Chanel Homme Sport Edition Blanche, for example, is indeed much more artificial. There’s even more real citrus acidity in the air here, and no lemon cake batter with vanillin. It’s not about pleasing, but rather about a clear and assertive direction.

Fragrance:

Heart note: The top note continues to blast in a powerhouse manner, while also Italian, tart spices come into play. A subtly hidden leather note remains in the background, and a woody-spicy vibe adds to it, with a slight soapiness. Only now does an aesthetic emerge that also seems unattainable due to a certain coldness. This tart and rough side will soften from now on, as increasingly floral freshness asserts itself (Chypre).

Base note: Depending on skin chemistry, either the citrus spiciness or the fresh woodiness prevails. For me, it’s the fresh woodiness, and thus it reminds me of Lagerfeld Photo, it’s been a long time, but the soapy floral notes refresh additionally, feeling like all day long. The lemon fades, its tart base remains.

Longevity:

Powerhouse, even in the disco and/or a long summer night, this is a dream. All-day candidate. Since the base is so desirable to wait for, just a little re-spraying if necessary. It also works at work, discreetly, but it screams for leisure and beach evenings.

Sillage:

At first, enormous. The intensity of the lemon comes through, which as a top note, however, seems to others from a distance like the heart note does to oneself after 30 minutes. The looks of others express that no compliment is needed here, because it can be assumed that the wearer knows it’s high quality. People come and stay close. Interestingly, some wearers are afraid that others will notice they are wearing perfume? Just dose sparingly, because there’s still something for the price.

Bottle:

A matter of taste, it certainly stands at the front of my collection, right next to #L'Eau d'Issey pour Homme and #Acqua di Gio Profumo, Battistoni #Marte, Yves Saint Laurent #pour Homme… It’s there where I reach for citrus freshies. Even though it’s clearly woody-spicy, I think it belongs less in the spice department than, for example, Aramis Havana, despite its similarly tart tobacco-leather vibes. The Versace has primarily no cinnamon-oriental spice vibe, but rather a tart-Mediterranean one. Thus, the original Aramis #Tuscany also belongs here.

And a Post-it: "Book Italy vacation and pack only one perfume in the suitcase."

“Perfume fans have been waiting for something like this for 15 years!” ...

was my first thought after spraying it on paper and then immediately on skin and shirt. The latter kept the scent alive so intensely from 11:00 to 19:00 that my wife noticed in the evening: “The apartment smells ethereal. Is that you?”

Longevity and sillage are definitely at 90s level for perfume fans. Those who love the scent can save a lot of money. My obligatory 5 sprays can surely be reduced to 2.

The fragrance starts super clean-aquatic, very natural, so maritime-algal, slightly salty-sour, yet fresh and noble-woody. The latter lasted a good 4 hours, which I found very pleasant. However, I only became aware much later that I smelled “room-filling,” as my nose had long taken a vacation on the Breton coast (scent-blind). The slight sour note broke through for me all day until the evening, and here comes the catch: Those with sour skin/sour blood can enhance their natural scent here. I, however, have more of a woody-fresh personal scent, and that took an unexpected turn.

That’s why my wife added: “Did you put tea tree oil on?” I: “Excuse me? Do you mean my perfume? That’s rather sour, isn’t it?” - “Hhm... sour pickles?” Well. Often one likes a scent on oneself, but rarely on oneself. Therefore, I don’t want to tear it apart for the rightful fans.

The scent was starting to annoy me, and we wanted to go for a walk. Since I had no time to wash it off, I layered the fragrance with my woody-fresh “Tars” cologne. Either the musk in it scared away the duck in the city park, which usually waddled joyfully towards me, or it was the now penetrating cucumber water. All bird species made a detour around me or turned back. At least they didn’t fly away.

Once home, I could finally wash everything off.

With such phenomenal performance, we are dealing with a milestone, as its quality is rare. Similar to Kenzo Homme or Cool Water, it has the potential to become a classic. It’s good if it finds its wearers, and better if they can also find it thanks to Parfumo.

I have to leave our party, freshen up, and change briefly.

Peace!

PS: Fairly, you should also know that I noticed the cucumber right when I sprayed it, so I took a test strip of Gucci Guilty Homme Love Edition for comparison. The woody freshness represented in it was then, in the evening, what I would have liked to hear more from Kenzo. Those who compare the two and immediately know where the journey should go will surely have an easier time.

I am grateful for this occasionally consumption-critical and literary community and am always looking for gifts for special people.

Thanks to BonOdeur for the sample! I am also glad that a nice addition, Marbert Woman, was included in the package. This helped me understand this artwork in its traditional line "Chypre." It immediately corresponds to an image.

Now to the scent. The top note playfully and unmistakably says: you would like me, but I only take what I want. Relationship status: Private. The Bulgarian rose absolutely emphasizes her plump red lips, which express what the heart note feels and thinks. Why makeup! She carries a briefcase and always appears extraordinarily professional. She is in her mid-20s and has reached where she wanted to be, after a quick graduation from international universities. Whether in Shanghai or the UAE, neither the souks nor the advances of the sheikhs could stop her. She walks directly up the stairs, the cameras follow her (not the other way around) and towards the podium, where she smiles at the guests with "Welcome." That's enough. Everyone smiles back. This lays the foundation for a pleasant conversation. Men's hearts beat faster. Much longer than with Shalimar, Le Bain, and Co., because men do not expect that.

Assuming he were someone else, he would be happy just to approach her. But he is who he is and prefers to imagine that he shares every thought with her since he spoke to her and took her hand.
For he will always support her as much as she stands behind him when he steps before his audience.

Even though I usually like to describe a scent for longer, not here! Something else is more important to me. I wonder: What do you ladies want with all those expensive sweets? Only boys and girls want to nibble. Men want to fight for something seemingly unattainable. And women want the same. There is no reason to give that up. Woody scents are loved by men. That's why they buy them. And here the woodiness is packaged in such a way that it steals the show from men, even the one-man shows of Bogart, and brings the salary increase. This artwork is not about whether men can wear it, but about not letting them wear it at all. Appropriation. Equal opportunity. Subversion.

Here is professionalism. This seems to me to be Nathalie Lorson's female counterpart to Encre Noire. It has the potential to improve the rules by which the game is played. And that is just as postmodern. Female executive level without shoulder pads, but with tradition.

Here I give a full 10 out of 10, because compared to this, oriental is just retro. "Welcome to the next level" like 6 Space by ILS on good speakers or Soldier of Love by Sade.

EDIT AND ADDENDUM OF A FASCINATED PERSON:

This will polarize now, and I will provoke, but it is worth it to me.
I have been dealing with art my whole life and see this perfume as a work of art. To me, it appears outstanding from the very first second, so very grand, but when I say that, I do not mean "lovely" or "sweet," but remarkably and admirably good. That is a note, this Bulgarian rose, which is simply convincingly attractive. What art does, however, is to trigger deeper reflections within us through aesthetic experiences, what such an effect has caused. And among these images, culturally transmitted distorted images of "femininity" or "masculinity" were often included. Here we are challenged to rethink the male territory "wood."

The note is nothing that has existed before, it goes completely its own way and is pioneering in this respect. Here, a traditional boundary has been crossed in an extremely subtle and beautiful way: wood has been a domain of men for generations (!) This rose stands in an olfactory forest, which historically has always meant the end for the supposedly weaker sex: All 'Little Red Riding Hoods' among women, who are afraid of the so-called big bad wolf, will unfortunately go back to picking flowers, but those who dare to venture into this underbrush will turn every wolf into a tame Samoyed, a hunter into a companion, and themselves into a strong gender.
Can women remain women while they take over men's territory?
Those who dare to let go of the culturally transmitted and misogynistic stereotypes (clichés) and prejudices that could remain like the red cap in the woods will enjoy this. But those who value classical role models and insist on conforming to the trends prevailing in (perfume) advertising will find themselves increasingly afraid of themselves in the growing shadow of their own, the darker it gets. The message is very clear: you can, if you dare, also be number 1 in this forest.

But those driven by a panicked flight from "masculine" notes will miss this opportunity to challenge men in their domain. I know that vanilla and tonka make one more likable, but that is not what this is about. This scent does not need to please others, even though it has a sweet finish. And which scent can be said to be simultaneously subversive?
Nathalie Lorson, who has often shown courage and created great art for me, also had to assert herself against men in the perfume world, and at one of her openings in Dubai, when she presented Black Opium, my beloved was working. She has, like me, a fondness for Lorson's creations. Even the most expensive Chanels do not replace a statement when it comes to representing one. I never expected more from this scent than to be a gift for the most extraordinary woman in my eyes.

And of course, I told her neither the name of the perfume nor the creator when I gave her the sample. She was immediately taken with it. I can only wish everyone who tests it to detach themselves in advance from masculinity/femininity clichés.
Here it has succeeded better than I had imagined. And the less women want/can/maybe even have to wear it because it is about assertiveness for them, the more Perles de Lalique will become a unique piece. The spirit of having subverted a male domain and emerging great from it will radiate even without the necessary understanding of the masses. Art indeed.

But it would also be sad if this were only granted to a few.

PS: This was completely subjective and therefore written with conviction. Nevertheless, this should not obscure the fact that with Perles de Lalique, wood is objectively at play, and the scent therefore either pleases or clashes. And that is indeed objectively extraordinary. And of course, not everyone who wears this scent is revolutionary, and those who reject it are not traditional. However, those who test it should know that it is a challenge to all men.
I can well imagine that women can reject it just as I once avoided Declaration d'un soir for myself because it contains rose and I used to place more value on stereotypical "masculinity."

Ultimately, this community has often taught me better.

Havana is a fragrance with an extroverted top note, a smooth heart note that maintains the sovereign balance and expression of the components, and a long base note that is perceptible for over 6 hours. It’s all about expression, because in this Cuban bar, every heart beats. Sweetness is off the table for now. Here is passion. Here the dance has begun.
In my mind, the old shellac record player is spinning Buena Vista Social Club, Esperanto by Freundeskreis, and in the old wooden shelf, one spots the Communist Manifesto next to various cookbooks of spicy and intense dishes. A delicate hint of vanilla wafts from the kitchen into the nose, mingling with the scent of the old cigar. The music and smoke flow together in a wind chime through the streets and even reach the mountains with their steaming sun-kissed palms and ancient conifers. The slight coolness in the shade of the monumental Cuban pine in front of the building adorned with all sorts of paintings is quickly forgotten.

Even though Christmas is being celebrated coldly in Europe right now. Here, it’s heating up, and after this first hour that feels like an era, the vanilla tobacco smoke rises like blue haze in the dance bar, accompanied by the scent of cinnamon stars being served from the kitchen. I treat my lady to a drink and toast her with my rum glass before I stand up and smilingly lead her to the dance floor with a kiss on the cheek.

Now begins what I call "sovereign balance and the expression of the components." It’s something different from composure, but damn close. A mix of tension and relaxation. A pirouette with happiness. And from then on, I don’t care about anything else.

Except for our opinions during the intense conversation after our dance, whether Hemingway, Marx, or Butler belongs in this wooden shelf and what Obama has done for Cuba. In the end, we embrace tightly and promise to be like brother and sister, because that’s what it’s all about. We sit relaxed on a leather couch, and I notice from her scent: We both like vanilla. And I like and kiss her neck. A beautiful common ground.

Whoever wakes up in the morning after this night in the bar and smells the tobacco scent on their clothes is glad they are not going out anymore. Non-smokers are the true connoisseurs.

On the progression:
1. The top note: basil, tarragon, and mandarin, but in the spice shop next to cumin and green tea (the opening at the bar next to the kitchen).
2. The heart note: tobacco, cinnamon, vanilla, and fir (the dance in the smoke).
3. The base note: oak, leather, musk, and sandalwood (the conversation on the leather couch)

"One last deep breath!" he thought, as he inhaled deeply and amidst a cool breeze that swept through the treetops and the blurred sounds of chirping birds and crickets, he heard his own breathing: "Mhhhhhhhhhhhhhh". One last glance was cast at the deep valley lying before him, with the rolled-down pine trunks that seemed to have been smashed together into a kind of bird's nest from this height. He stood 1,277 m above the water level, which the mountain stream below seemed to hesitate to adorn like a sewing thread. Sport!

The two gloves gripped the handlebars of his fully suspended mountain bike tightly, as if welded on. Suddenly, every detail of the previously so boastfully secure technology seemed of utmost importance to him. It was all that mattered now. Would the overheated chain withstand the stresses of spontaneous jumps over fallen branches and trunks? Is there enough air in the front suspension? Does the ergonomically free-swinging saddle absorb the shocks of a hard impact after a necessary detour off the path upon re-entry? Was the decision for the puncture-proof tire on the rear wheel the right one, or does it lack the important flexibility on stones? Can the inflated front tire withstand a sharp gravel stone, or a sudden crossing of a wild stream? What if a bug flies into his eye? And if the bike really should go faster than the body, can the clip pedals be released? ...

For many summers, he had ridden over clearings illuminated by the sun like a magnifying glass, which radiated a noble and sublime permanence from the mossy ground, yet were so different. Each time, when the microbial and fungal cultures devoured old trunks and made way for new life. He had long since given up the crazy idea of testing the superiority of culture over nature in this deserted environment. His grapefruit deodorant amidst a cool freshness of ferns and damp pine cones seemed to him the epitome of human cultural arrogance. And the realization that this impression testified to a deeply felt romance made the descent no less difficult. He caught himself avoiding the rabid decision to take this trail with sticks and stones as it came, by delaying it in his thoughts. The valley seemed to spread out deeper before him, and the more his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the clearer the proportions on the ground became.

The peak of human arrogance in his mind was marked by the question of whether it is not much more arrogant and dishonest to design a perfume (which developed as an olfactory camouflage, a symbol of human triumphs over animals) in such a way that it appears "natural," without revealing its synthetics, or whether it is indeed more honest to say "yes" to the imposed cultivated nature of grapefruit synthetic and let both scents wrestle with each other. Whatever! The only wrestling was that of the now gradually rotating and glistening rings of the tires, which set in motion under steaming mud. "One thing is for sure..." he thought, "the faster I go on the descent, the straighter I ride, and the less I get into a wobble and jeopardize my posture." Since then, only one thought remained in his head: "Down into the depths!" A smile crossed his face, that of a madman, and that was the last anyone saw of him before he arrived, completely intoxicated by adrenaline and dopamine, at the ground in his beloved cider tavern to order a Schöfferhofer grapefruit and call his girlfriend to let her know that everything was fine and he would be back soon.