Duesenduft

I admit, I struggled for a long time with whether I should test XerJoff's 40 Knots. Somehow, while reading the relevant XerJoff reviews, I always had the impression that the brand appeals more to younger to middle-aged individuals who prefer bold, striking fragrances. I, who am slowly aging out of the club live scene - well, except for jazz clubs - tend to place myself in the classic-conservative part of the fragrance universe, but I am certainly not averse to experiments and avant-garde deviations. And with a bit of sailing experience in the Turkish Aegean and the Danish South Sea, the maritime promise of bliss from 40 Knots seemed worth a sniff. Even if the implied speed in the name rather suggests a speedboat...

Before I get into it, I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks to fellow Parfumo member Sergio0908, who generously provided me with a suitably sized sample. It was quite a funny coincidence, as it turned out that we are almost neighbors. Well, sometimes good things are indeed close by. Thank you, Sergej!

Back to XerJoff's 40 Knots...

In the top note, I am greeted by a strong, fresh breeze. Instead of relying on citrus notes, it is blown in by mint and pepper. Wow, this is already off to a good start! In the following half hour, it seamlessly transitions into a cinnamon-nutmeg mix, to which a hint of jasmine almost immediately joins. A very pleasant sweet-salty note builds up.

Question: Is this still an aquatic or not? I am uncertain. I try to imagine sun-bleached teak wood planks from the Mediterranean. The salty seawater that sprayed across the deck during the last rather sporty turn before entering the marina has long evaporated. Remnants of salt have crystallized on the planks. Hm. I really can't seem to conjure up the seafaring associations; it lacks plasticity. No, 40 Knots is not a Popeye aquatic, not really. But perhaps this XerJoff scent reflects a relaxed evening at the dock of a small marina on some Cycladic island, barely any wind, the swell lazily lapping around the creaky, barnacle-eaten wooden posts supporting the boat dock. Out there, a 38” Beneteau is bobbing, waiting for its Ouzo-dazed crew to return from shore leave...

After what seems like hours, the heart note gently transitions into the base note. Vanilla, amber, musk, and a hint of cedarwood now dominate. Equal partners, no captain in sight, they gather around a remnant of sweet saltiness and let the long, sunny day unfold until it’s time to retreat to the bunks. However, it takes a long time for that to happen...

Categorical evaluation:
Spicy-woody-sweet

Olfactory evaluation:
Top note: Moroccan mint and coarse black pepper
Heart note: Cinnamon, nutmeg, jasmine
Base note: Vanilla, amber, musk, fresh cedarwood

Associative evaluation:
Color: Emerald green, light blue, pure white, forest honey yellow
Tactile: Bleached driftwood, polished teak, brass fittings
Musical: Mikis Theodorakis "Canto General"
Literary: Nikos Kazantzakis "Zorba the Greek"
Visual Art: Sokratis Evgenidis "Santorini Magic 14" (2020)
Architecture: Traditional Cycladic architecture

Conclusion: A formidable fragrance that actually fulfills all the promises that XerJoff stands for - fine composition, high quality, excellent longevity, very good sillage. All presented in an opulent bottle. And suitable for almost any occasion. A spot on my wish list is thus assured.

Only: Perhaps the name Naxos would have suited this fragrance better than 40 Knots? ;-))

Among Irish tweed classics, rampaging Vikings, and fanatical Aventus apologists, the portfolio of the House of Creed also features true royals. Known as Les Royales Exclusives, they cross every monetary pain threshold with the nonchalant shamelessness of British high nobility. At least, if one uses bourgeois standards like I do. So how is it possible that I choose a representative of Creed’s high olfactocracy for my first review on Parfumo?

Well, it’s all about the pear. More specifically: the winter pear Pyris communis, also known as "Pastorenbirne." A variety available only in the winter months, which has one thing that all the trivial sweet fruity summer varieties from William’s Christ to Gellerts Butterbirne lack: an exceedingly fine, almost ethereal acidity that never slips into the mundane citric sourness and does not stoop to the sticky sweetness of, for example, a ripe Italian Abate pear. This old pear variety has been cultivated in Central France since 1760. And Creed Les Royales Exclusives Pure White Cologne is, in my olfactory opinion, the first and possibly only perfume that authentically captures this unique pear note. Different, more radical than Miller Harris’ Coeur de Jardin, the synthetic pear monster Arte Profumi Carpe Diem, or Jean Paul Gaultier’s clubbing bomb Ultra Mâle. In Creed’s interpretation, less is indeed much more. This may also resonate in the name, as white is, in the additive model of color theory, the sum of all colors. Let’s take a sniff…

Casually embracing the fading lemon and bergamot tones of the top note, the fine fruity pear rises in the heart note, where it lingers long, very long. Clearly overshadowing the neroli note, with galbanum only hinted at, before diffusing into a mountain of fragrant Lalquilla rice and the classic Creed mix of amber and white musk after hours. What remains after hours is a scent that perhaps reminds one of a stack of bed linen made of white Egyptian cotton, freshly washed and ironed, delivered by the laundry service "The Empress of Smooth" at Peabody Square in London. Not clean, but pure. And a little more than that. Because even above this base note, a hint of the winter pear still hovers, taking away any detergent appeal. Fabulous! In sum, Pure White Cologne is fascinating and in this fragrance composition, at least for me, has never been smelled before. A gentleman’s and gentlewoman’s summer scent of the finest kind, very unique, very subtle, very self-assured, and despite a wink, completely unpretentious. Surprisingly long-lasting on textiles. A bit less so on the skin. My esteemed wife was able to detect it just as I did for a good eight hours up close. That the sillage hardly keeps up is forgivable. Pure White Cologne is not an olfactory fog machine and doesn’t want to be one.

The price? Don’t even ask. After all, even the interested party in a luxury car built in Crewe receives only the tight-lipped answer to the question about the performance of the vehicle in question: "Enough."

Categorical rating:
Aristocratic-citrus-fresh

Olfactory rating:
Top note: Juicy yellow lemon (bergamot, grapefruit, lemon)
Heart note: Winter pear (pear, galbanum, neroli)
Base note: Lalquilla long-grain rice and white musk (amber, rice flour, white musk)

Associative rating:
Thermal: cool like freshly fallen snow
Color: Bright white (canditus), from frosty pure white to sunny warm white, ending in a misty light gray
Tactile: airy bast linen
Musical: The "White Album" by The Beatles (1968)
Literary: Peter Høeg "Miss Smilla's Feeling for Snow"
Visual art: Kazimir Malevich "The White Square" (1917)
Architecture: Le Corbusier with a touch of Taj Mahal

Conclusion: For me, who tends to be (but not exclusively) classically conservative with fragrances, alongside Royal Mayfair, this is the highlight from Creed. Highly recommended!

And to conclude, returning once more to the headline: Does my love for the pear now make me a Dr. Strangelove?