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A Strawanza Without Dirt
The Strawanza from the Wiener Schurken was, for me as a small Fougère lover and someone who lived in Vienna for a few years, practically a must-try. Old-school vibes without feeling outdated, an absolutely fair price-performance ratio along with an interesting image, and it can also be used as an aftershave... everything sounds very promising. Now living back in Germany, I can no longer regularly "strawanze" through the Viennese nightlife and would have liked to get a bottle as a nice reminder of past times. A little over a year ago, it was time again for a work-related trip to Vienna, which I promptly used to visit the not-so-central shop of the Wiener Schurken in the 18th district.
The couple running the shop was absolutely friendly and visibly surprised and pleased that someone from Germany was making the direct journey to their store for their Strawanza. During the conversation, I naturally asked how they came by a formula from 1953 and what the story behind it was. If I understood the conversation with the shop owner correctly, the trail seems to lead to the vicinity of "Alt-Innsbruck - Eau de Cologne | Kosmetik R. Neuner / Proderma". The fact that the homepage of Kosmetik R. Neuner sells the Strawanza alongside their Alt-Innsbruck as pretty much the only fragrance strengthens the suspicion that there were no complete unknowns behind Strawanza.
About the scent: Even in the shop, upon the first spray, it became clear that I had a different idea of Strawanza. Even though it technically may be a Fougère, I associate this type of fragrance more with a fresh-green shaving water sharpness or, if it is milder and sweeter, at least with a certain soapiness. Neither was the case here; instead, a hearty, slightly earthy spiciness was noticeable. At the same time, my olfactory memory computer was whirring... somehow it felt pleasantly familiar. The shop owner was kind enough to simply give me a sample along with a greeting card, and so I left the shop with my fragrance strip. No sooner had I left the shop than it hit me: this strong note reminiscent of spicy gingerbread made me think of the highly regarded
Blackpepper. I really like this prominent pepper note, but due to my existing familiarity with Blackpepper, the "wow experience" (which I had with it) was absent with Strawanza. Overall, Blackpepper seems to me to be a bit more refined and deeper. It feels fresher, more potent, more valuable, deeper, and also somewhat more extravagant to me, which is why I would rather reach for it in case of doubt. Strawanza opens for me with a rather restrained mint and briefly showcases a bit of earthiness (patchouli) and spiciness (a bit of clove and a lot of pepper), with a hint of resinousness (labdanum) perceptible in the background. However, it quickly becomes softer and warmer and settles into a dominant pepper note with a very subtle sweetness (probably musk and tonka).
Conclusion: Undoubtedly a pleasant, quite distinctive men's fragrance that fulfills its promise of being a rather classic but not outdated scent for me. The homepage warns to be cautious, as Strawanza can exert an almost magnetic attraction on others. The few female feedbacks I requested were also rather positive but not overwhelming. I had to request them because it projects rather modestly and sits close to the skin after a short time, which doesn't bother me much. Furthermore, for me, it is more of a spicy-woody scent and not a classic green-fresh Fougère with a certain sharpness. That's not bad, but I simply prefer Blackpepper a whole lot more in this category. One last point of criticism could be that a real Strawanza and wanderer could have benefited from a bit more "edginess." A bit of "dirt," smoke, leather, or "boozyness" would have suited the theme and certainly underscored the street and rogue image.
The couple running the shop was absolutely friendly and visibly surprised and pleased that someone from Germany was making the direct journey to their store for their Strawanza. During the conversation, I naturally asked how they came by a formula from 1953 and what the story behind it was. If I understood the conversation with the shop owner correctly, the trail seems to lead to the vicinity of "Alt-Innsbruck - Eau de Cologne | Kosmetik R. Neuner / Proderma". The fact that the homepage of Kosmetik R. Neuner sells the Strawanza alongside their Alt-Innsbruck as pretty much the only fragrance strengthens the suspicion that there were no complete unknowns behind Strawanza.
About the scent: Even in the shop, upon the first spray, it became clear that I had a different idea of Strawanza. Even though it technically may be a Fougère, I associate this type of fragrance more with a fresh-green shaving water sharpness or, if it is milder and sweeter, at least with a certain soapiness. Neither was the case here; instead, a hearty, slightly earthy spiciness was noticeable. At the same time, my olfactory memory computer was whirring... somehow it felt pleasantly familiar. The shop owner was kind enough to simply give me a sample along with a greeting card, and so I left the shop with my fragrance strip. No sooner had I left the shop than it hit me: this strong note reminiscent of spicy gingerbread made me think of the highly regarded
Blackpepper. I really like this prominent pepper note, but due to my existing familiarity with Blackpepper, the "wow experience" (which I had with it) was absent with Strawanza. Overall, Blackpepper seems to me to be a bit more refined and deeper. It feels fresher, more potent, more valuable, deeper, and also somewhat more extravagant to me, which is why I would rather reach for it in case of doubt. Strawanza opens for me with a rather restrained mint and briefly showcases a bit of earthiness (patchouli) and spiciness (a bit of clove and a lot of pepper), with a hint of resinousness (labdanum) perceptible in the background. However, it quickly becomes softer and warmer and settles into a dominant pepper note with a very subtle sweetness (probably musk and tonka).Conclusion: Undoubtedly a pleasant, quite distinctive men's fragrance that fulfills its promise of being a rather classic but not outdated scent for me. The homepage warns to be cautious, as Strawanza can exert an almost magnetic attraction on others. The few female feedbacks I requested were also rather positive but not overwhelming. I had to request them because it projects rather modestly and sits close to the skin after a short time, which doesn't bother me much. Furthermore, for me, it is more of a spicy-woody scent and not a classic green-fresh Fougère with a certain sharpness. That's not bad, but I simply prefer Blackpepper a whole lot more in this category. One last point of criticism could be that a real Strawanza and wanderer could have benefited from a bit more "edginess." A bit of "dirt," smoke, leather, or "boozyness" would have suited the theme and certainly underscored the street and rogue image.
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I really like this raid command...
A few months ago, I received the Discovery Set from Beaufort as a gift from my girlfriend. The dark minimalist design, the original artwork on the website, the exciting accent of the fragrances around the theme of smoke... everything is right up my alley! Even when opening the box, scents emerged that hinted at demanding, edgy fragrances.
I was not disappointed. At the latest when testing Tonnerre and Vi et Armis, the living room was filled with a biting smell of smoke that would certainly send some people running. My first thought was that these are truly valuable and original works of art, although their wearability could be questioned. I like to test extensively before passing judgment, as experience shows that some initially disturbing scents later find a firm place in my heart. Additionally, I have a slight penchant for fragrances that open very harshly and reveal their beautiful face with increasing wear time.
About the scent: The opening is quite brutal. Olfactory alarm! A biting smell of smoke from coal or wood that is still smoldering and almost singes your nose hairs. Along with it, there’s a kind of alcoholic scent that most reminds me of glass cleaner or special window cleaning products. Over time, the sharp smoke subsides a bit, but everything still smells burnt. The aforementioned "glass cleaner" scent transforms into a truly fresh spray scent that gradually breaks through and refreshes the whole setting beautifully. There are also slight notes of gunpowder. One can tell that quality woods have been burned, whose unburned components start to enrich the smoke-spray mixture with their slightly resinous wood aromas. In the end, a wonderfully fragrant mélange of noble, subtly resinous wood + a lot of smoke and a refreshing spray remains, which comes through more as the wear time increases, once the smoke has dissipated a bit.
Conclusion: I have once again found that I can only rely on reviews here to a very limited extent. Of all the previous Beaufort fragrances, those with the currently worst rating (Tonnerre, Rake & Ruine) have captivated me the most. For me, Tonnerre is quite a masculine scent that completely convinces me with its originality. What I like best is the constant oscillation between woody smoke scent (and sometimes no incense!) and refreshing spray, which evokes thoughts of distance, wildness, and adventure. The association that comes to mind for me is the burning of a ship (made from noble woods). As the fire fades, coal, ash, and wood scents emerge, and the whipping spray reclaims its territory. One downside of Tonnerre could be that for at least the first half hour, you smell as if you’ve been standing by the grill for a while, and it really pumps strongly. However, you are later rewarded with a truly pleasant smoky, fresh, and unique scent with moderate sillage. You just have to have a bit of patience.
The wear time is more suited for autumn and winter. Application areas are more in the evening (certainly good for concerts that revere darkness, I think of Mgła or the Black Angels, for example).
I was not disappointed. At the latest when testing Tonnerre and Vi et Armis, the living room was filled with a biting smell of smoke that would certainly send some people running. My first thought was that these are truly valuable and original works of art, although their wearability could be questioned. I like to test extensively before passing judgment, as experience shows that some initially disturbing scents later find a firm place in my heart. Additionally, I have a slight penchant for fragrances that open very harshly and reveal their beautiful face with increasing wear time.
About the scent: The opening is quite brutal. Olfactory alarm! A biting smell of smoke from coal or wood that is still smoldering and almost singes your nose hairs. Along with it, there’s a kind of alcoholic scent that most reminds me of glass cleaner or special window cleaning products. Over time, the sharp smoke subsides a bit, but everything still smells burnt. The aforementioned "glass cleaner" scent transforms into a truly fresh spray scent that gradually breaks through and refreshes the whole setting beautifully. There are also slight notes of gunpowder. One can tell that quality woods have been burned, whose unburned components start to enrich the smoke-spray mixture with their slightly resinous wood aromas. In the end, a wonderfully fragrant mélange of noble, subtly resinous wood + a lot of smoke and a refreshing spray remains, which comes through more as the wear time increases, once the smoke has dissipated a bit.
Conclusion: I have once again found that I can only rely on reviews here to a very limited extent. Of all the previous Beaufort fragrances, those with the currently worst rating (Tonnerre, Rake & Ruine) have captivated me the most. For me, Tonnerre is quite a masculine scent that completely convinces me with its originality. What I like best is the constant oscillation between woody smoke scent (and sometimes no incense!) and refreshing spray, which evokes thoughts of distance, wildness, and adventure. The association that comes to mind for me is the burning of a ship (made from noble woods). As the fire fades, coal, ash, and wood scents emerge, and the whipping spray reclaims its territory. One downside of Tonnerre could be that for at least the first half hour, you smell as if you’ve been standing by the grill for a while, and it really pumps strongly. However, you are later rewarded with a truly pleasant smoky, fresh, and unique scent with moderate sillage. You just have to have a bit of patience.
The wear time is more suited for autumn and winter. Application areas are more in the evening (certainly good for concerts that revere darkness, I think of Mgła or the Black Angels, for example).
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Mint Fougère without a Hard Core!
Eau de Minthé seems to fly a bit under the radar, which is somewhat surprising, as it bears significant resemblance to the "Allstar" Drakkar Noir.
To put it succinctly, one could even say that Eau de Minthé somewhat stays where Drakkar Noir begins. We are talking about the wonderfully fresh, floral opening that beautifully reminds one of shaving foam from Drakkar Noir. While Drakkar Noir quickly ventures into more down-to-earth territory and unfolds with an oakmoss-fresh-green base note, Eau de Minthé takes a slightly sweeter approach. Patchouli grounds it only very subtly, while mint and floral sweetness (likely the rose oxide) invite a light, fresh dance, without harsher or heavier notes stealing the show in the first hours. Thus, Eau de Minthé fades away with a subtle sweetness, but always remains fresh-spicy.
Eau de Minthé has a classic feel, is unlikely to offend, and will not stand out negatively anywhere. Even though it is not overly striking, I still can't think of much that is comparable. The parallels to Drakkar Noir are definitely there, although the strong similarity faded for me with the frequency of wearing it. A main difference from other fresh representatives of aromatic fougères (I think, for example, of Azzaro pour Homme, Paco Rabanne pour Homme, Fougère Royal, 1881 pour Homme, or even Drakkar Noir) lies for me in the fact that Eau de Minthé lacks the "hard core," namely the oakmoss. Even though this component often gives a "grandfather" impression to some, I believe it still helps to establish a nice fougère on solid, masculine green legs. However, this is just a personal preference and perhaps not intended for Eau de Minthé as a "unisex" scent. Unfortunately, this was also the reason why my bottle had to find a new owner eventually, as I prefer to stick with Drakkar Noir, even though its performance is somewhat lacking, while Eau de Minthé performs quite well for a mint scent and is certainly suitable for spring/summer.
People who like "Drakkar Noir (Eau de Toilette) | Guy Laroche," "Replica - At the Barber's | Maison Margiela," or perhaps even
Viking can certainly give Eau de Minthé a try.
To put it succinctly, one could even say that Eau de Minthé somewhat stays where Drakkar Noir begins. We are talking about the wonderfully fresh, floral opening that beautifully reminds one of shaving foam from Drakkar Noir. While Drakkar Noir quickly ventures into more down-to-earth territory and unfolds with an oakmoss-fresh-green base note, Eau de Minthé takes a slightly sweeter approach. Patchouli grounds it only very subtly, while mint and floral sweetness (likely the rose oxide) invite a light, fresh dance, without harsher or heavier notes stealing the show in the first hours. Thus, Eau de Minthé fades away with a subtle sweetness, but always remains fresh-spicy.
Eau de Minthé has a classic feel, is unlikely to offend, and will not stand out negatively anywhere. Even though it is not overly striking, I still can't think of much that is comparable. The parallels to Drakkar Noir are definitely there, although the strong similarity faded for me with the frequency of wearing it. A main difference from other fresh representatives of aromatic fougères (I think, for example, of Azzaro pour Homme, Paco Rabanne pour Homme, Fougère Royal, 1881 pour Homme, or even Drakkar Noir) lies for me in the fact that Eau de Minthé lacks the "hard core," namely the oakmoss. Even though this component often gives a "grandfather" impression to some, I believe it still helps to establish a nice fougère on solid, masculine green legs. However, this is just a personal preference and perhaps not intended for Eau de Minthé as a "unisex" scent. Unfortunately, this was also the reason why my bottle had to find a new owner eventually, as I prefer to stick with Drakkar Noir, even though its performance is somewhat lacking, while Eau de Minthé performs quite well for a mint scent and is certainly suitable for spring/summer.
People who like "Drakkar Noir (Eau de Toilette) | Guy Laroche," "Replica - At the Barber's | Maison Margiela," or perhaps even
Viking can certainly give Eau de Minthé a try.
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Appealing without wanting to please!
Imaginary Authors is one of the niche houses that certainly receives a lot of goodwill from my side... The bottles are neither kitschy, overly ostentatious, nor otherwise pretentiously designed, but score with an artistic presentation that is original, radiates individuality, and I simply like very much. No less original and creative are the fragrance directions that are combined, such as green-sweet (Saint Julep), woody-fruity (Cape Heartache), woody-powdery (O, unknown!), or as here aquatic-green. Despite this experimental spirit, it does not detract from the appeal of the scents (at least with the two scents I tested, "Every Storm a Serenade" and "Saint Julep"). Furthermore, the fragrances from Imaginary Authors are priced in the upscale but not decadent range.
About the scent: Although completely different in fragrance direction, my first thought when I first smelled it was
Guilty Absolute pour Homme... somewhat rough and quite direct. "Every Storm a Serenade" is not a top note blender but presents itself directly as it is and remains quite constant and linear in its development. How it is, however, is not so easy to describe. First, there is for me a kind of charred rubber smell, which may give some an "antiseptic"/"pharmaceutical"/"medicinal" impression. I attribute this mainly to the vetiveryl acetate and it reminds me in its execution of vetiver representatives like "Vetiver Insolent | Miller Harris," "Vétiver Extraordinaire | Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle," or also "Fat Electrician | Etat Libre d'Orange." Secondly, there is the mineral-salty, aquatic component that I really like and gives the fragrance its freshness and slight sharpness. It should be noted that the aquatic aspect is not one of the typical blue scents, but is raw, seaweed-like, and foam-like (the colors gray and dark green come to mind). I much prefer this type of aquatic and first got to know and love it with "Oud Minérale | Tom Ford." But I also have memories of "Megamare | Orto Parisi," where we would probably also find the cause of this type of aquatic, namely Calone. Why this scent, discovered by a pharmaceutical company (Pfizer), conveys this impression is explained by Wikipedia: "Calone has a similar structure to some alicyclic C11 hydrocarbons, e.g., ectocarpene, which are excreted by brown algae as pheromones." For those who get weak knees at the mention of Megamare and want to flee, rest assured, "Every Storm A Serenade" is not quite as penetrating a performance monster. Nevertheless, it has quite good longevity and the sillage behavior is also not to be underestimated. I had really saved a mini last drop for the moment of writing my review to spray on my wrist, and yet my girlfriend just came into the room and said that it smelled so good in the apartment and even in the bathroom. And here we come to a point that surprised me a bit during multiple tests: I received quite good to very good feedback from the surroundings (especially from females) for the scent, even though I see it as a rather "harsh" representative that, in my opinion, does not aim for the mainstream.
Conclusion: "Every Storm a Serenade" is, in my opinion, somewhat underrated here on Parfumo, but can convince on many levels and has, in my opinion, significant signature potential. It could appeal to vetiver lovers or friends of the somewhat rougher aquatic, which is why I can only encourage extensive testing. I can very well imagine adding a bottle to my collection and look forward to testing more scents from this house in the future.
About the scent: Although completely different in fragrance direction, my first thought when I first smelled it was
Guilty Absolute pour Homme... somewhat rough and quite direct. "Every Storm a Serenade" is not a top note blender but presents itself directly as it is and remains quite constant and linear in its development. How it is, however, is not so easy to describe. First, there is for me a kind of charred rubber smell, which may give some an "antiseptic"/"pharmaceutical"/"medicinal" impression. I attribute this mainly to the vetiveryl acetate and it reminds me in its execution of vetiver representatives like "Vetiver Insolent | Miller Harris," "Vétiver Extraordinaire | Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle," or also "Fat Electrician | Etat Libre d'Orange." Secondly, there is the mineral-salty, aquatic component that I really like and gives the fragrance its freshness and slight sharpness. It should be noted that the aquatic aspect is not one of the typical blue scents, but is raw, seaweed-like, and foam-like (the colors gray and dark green come to mind). I much prefer this type of aquatic and first got to know and love it with "Oud Minérale | Tom Ford." But I also have memories of "Megamare | Orto Parisi," where we would probably also find the cause of this type of aquatic, namely Calone. Why this scent, discovered by a pharmaceutical company (Pfizer), conveys this impression is explained by Wikipedia: "Calone has a similar structure to some alicyclic C11 hydrocarbons, e.g., ectocarpene, which are excreted by brown algae as pheromones." For those who get weak knees at the mention of Megamare and want to flee, rest assured, "Every Storm A Serenade" is not quite as penetrating a performance monster. Nevertheless, it has quite good longevity and the sillage behavior is also not to be underestimated. I had really saved a mini last drop for the moment of writing my review to spray on my wrist, and yet my girlfriend just came into the room and said that it smelled so good in the apartment and even in the bathroom. And here we come to a point that surprised me a bit during multiple tests: I received quite good to very good feedback from the surroundings (especially from females) for the scent, even though I see it as a rather "harsh" representative that, in my opinion, does not aim for the mainstream.Conclusion: "Every Storm a Serenade" is, in my opinion, somewhat underrated here on Parfumo, but can convince on many levels and has, in my opinion, significant signature potential. It could appeal to vetiver lovers or friends of the somewhat rougher aquatic, which is why I can only encourage extensive testing. I can very well imagine adding a bottle to my collection and look forward to testing more scents from this house in the future.
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Running the Gauntlet in the Supermarket
So it went like this: Some of you may know it. You're working from home (I've temporarily moved back to my parents' place in the countryside), so you don't bother anyone with new (daring) fragrance experiments and can try out new samples in abundance in a "protected atmosphere." One of these truly daring scents turned out to be Megamare for me, but more on that in a moment...
I came across Megamare because I was quite taken with Tom Ford's Oud Minérale and its splash of sea spray/algae. Aquatic without the typical artificial freshness, but with a freshness that brings a lot of (algae/sea) depth along with it-yes, that can be something.
Megamare also strikes a similar chord at first. I smell fresh sea air, a bit of algae, and a hefty portion of synthetic ozonic freshness. The, let's call it "salt accord," really fascinated me. When I stick my nose under my T-shirt, there is indeed a salty smell, similar to when you smell a container full of salt. However, the synthetic sea freshness in Megamare is almost chemically sharp to aggressive, while Oud Minérale simply has more depth, is more rounded, more natural, and in its sillage is calibrated much better for me. Nevertheless, Megamare didn't initially seem "unappetizing" to me. The synthetic freshness, the potency, the absolute linearity (I can hardly detect a scent development), and especially its sillage behavior (transparent yet very present)... all of this reminded me more of fragrances like Dior Sauvage in terms of "construction." Accordingly, I expected positive reactions from those around me. But it turned out differently...
It was a hot summer day, and I planned to go shopping. On such days, I stay away from sweet scents. That's when Megamare came into play. It's just fresh; who could be bothered by that? Being aware of its strength, I felt safe since I only applied two small spritzes-mind you, from a small 3ml travel atomizer-one on the neck, one on the chest. When my parents entered the house, the first comments came. "What have you put on today, that smells terrible?!" I: "Hmm, that's Megamare, something quite 'fine'... really that bad? Or how does it smell to you?" "Hard to describe... you can smell it everywhere, somehow chemical and pretty disgusting!" I: "Wow, that's crazy, I actually don't find it that bad, although I admit it has quite a punch. I was planning to go shopping with it, but with your reactions, I should probably reconsider, haha..."
I got into the car, and Megamare was still "pumping." Oh my God, this "monster" is just getting started... well, everyone in the supermarket has masks on anyway, and parents do love to tell you a lot when the day is long, I thought to myself. Upon arriving at the supermarket, I spotted the extensive beer section, which completely diverted my focus from Megamare. While I happily assembled my beer crate, I crossed paths with a couple twice. I had just passed when I heard the woman say: "Ugh, there it is again..." and she sniffed her nose in all directions to identify the source "...something smells totally disgusting here!" I immediately knew that without a doubt, I and Megamare were the culprits. I also had to realize that the mask mandate in the supermarket had ended, and about 80% of the people were without masks. Well, I'm not signed up at Parfumo for people in my area to loudly declare that I stink. A bit unsettled and embarrassed, I now tried to use aisles in the supermarket where there were no people, which turned out to be not so easy. It may be my imagination, but it felt like some people turned around as I passed by them. To top it all off, I also had to ask an employee about the chickpeas (I called out to him with a 5m "safety distance")... but when he pointed, he also noticeably flared his nostrils (although his face showed more curiosity than disgust). I, of course, finished my shopping as quickly as possible and left the supermarket. But even in the parked hot car, I was still met with a small cloud of residual sillage from Megamare.
In the evening, I wanted to meet up with friends. Why wash dishes? That's what friends are for; they should be able to endure you as you are, and I was also curious about their feedback. Right upon arrival, I shared my supermarket story and apologized in advance if I smelled unusual today. One friend said: "Yeah, I noticed it right away... you smell like a Hamburg harbor whore." He seemed to have sniffed out the "harbor" well, as I hadn't mentioned anything further about this "maritime" scent. Other comments went in the direction of: "Yeah, extremely fresh, as if you bathed in Axe deodorant." The application of the two small spritzes had already been about 5 hours ago. Even my girlfriend (I only let her smell from the small atomizer) immediately made a face of disgust. But she also couldn't clearly name what she disliked so much, except that it somehow smells chemical.
Conclusion: Personally, I don't actually find the scent bad, even though it is a bit too piercingly present for me. Still, I've never- and I've tried a few exotic fragrances-received so much negative feedback. I have no idea what it is, and the other reviews here show it too; Megamare seems to polarize noses extremely. For me personally-please forgive me, as I am now a burned child-it is simply unbearable.
I came across Megamare because I was quite taken with Tom Ford's Oud Minérale and its splash of sea spray/algae. Aquatic without the typical artificial freshness, but with a freshness that brings a lot of (algae/sea) depth along with it-yes, that can be something.
Megamare also strikes a similar chord at first. I smell fresh sea air, a bit of algae, and a hefty portion of synthetic ozonic freshness. The, let's call it "salt accord," really fascinated me. When I stick my nose under my T-shirt, there is indeed a salty smell, similar to when you smell a container full of salt. However, the synthetic sea freshness in Megamare is almost chemically sharp to aggressive, while Oud Minérale simply has more depth, is more rounded, more natural, and in its sillage is calibrated much better for me. Nevertheless, Megamare didn't initially seem "unappetizing" to me. The synthetic freshness, the potency, the absolute linearity (I can hardly detect a scent development), and especially its sillage behavior (transparent yet very present)... all of this reminded me more of fragrances like Dior Sauvage in terms of "construction." Accordingly, I expected positive reactions from those around me. But it turned out differently...
It was a hot summer day, and I planned to go shopping. On such days, I stay away from sweet scents. That's when Megamare came into play. It's just fresh; who could be bothered by that? Being aware of its strength, I felt safe since I only applied two small spritzes-mind you, from a small 3ml travel atomizer-one on the neck, one on the chest. When my parents entered the house, the first comments came. "What have you put on today, that smells terrible?!" I: "Hmm, that's Megamare, something quite 'fine'... really that bad? Or how does it smell to you?" "Hard to describe... you can smell it everywhere, somehow chemical and pretty disgusting!" I: "Wow, that's crazy, I actually don't find it that bad, although I admit it has quite a punch. I was planning to go shopping with it, but with your reactions, I should probably reconsider, haha..."
I got into the car, and Megamare was still "pumping." Oh my God, this "monster" is just getting started... well, everyone in the supermarket has masks on anyway, and parents do love to tell you a lot when the day is long, I thought to myself. Upon arriving at the supermarket, I spotted the extensive beer section, which completely diverted my focus from Megamare. While I happily assembled my beer crate, I crossed paths with a couple twice. I had just passed when I heard the woman say: "Ugh, there it is again..." and she sniffed her nose in all directions to identify the source "...something smells totally disgusting here!" I immediately knew that without a doubt, I and Megamare were the culprits. I also had to realize that the mask mandate in the supermarket had ended, and about 80% of the people were without masks. Well, I'm not signed up at Parfumo for people in my area to loudly declare that I stink. A bit unsettled and embarrassed, I now tried to use aisles in the supermarket where there were no people, which turned out to be not so easy. It may be my imagination, but it felt like some people turned around as I passed by them. To top it all off, I also had to ask an employee about the chickpeas (I called out to him with a 5m "safety distance")... but when he pointed, he also noticeably flared his nostrils (although his face showed more curiosity than disgust). I, of course, finished my shopping as quickly as possible and left the supermarket. But even in the parked hot car, I was still met with a small cloud of residual sillage from Megamare.
In the evening, I wanted to meet up with friends. Why wash dishes? That's what friends are for; they should be able to endure you as you are, and I was also curious about their feedback. Right upon arrival, I shared my supermarket story and apologized in advance if I smelled unusual today. One friend said: "Yeah, I noticed it right away... you smell like a Hamburg harbor whore." He seemed to have sniffed out the "harbor" well, as I hadn't mentioned anything further about this "maritime" scent. Other comments went in the direction of: "Yeah, extremely fresh, as if you bathed in Axe deodorant." The application of the two small spritzes had already been about 5 hours ago. Even my girlfriend (I only let her smell from the small atomizer) immediately made a face of disgust. But she also couldn't clearly name what she disliked so much, except that it somehow smells chemical.
Conclusion: Personally, I don't actually find the scent bad, even though it is a bit too piercingly present for me. Still, I've never- and I've tried a few exotic fragrances-received so much negative feedback. I have no idea what it is, and the other reviews here show it too; Megamare seems to polarize noses extremely. For me personally-please forgive me, as I am now a burned child-it is simply unbearable.
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