Esrafalet

At the moment I look at the bottle, feel, spray, I sense this effortless Inspector Thomas Linley elegance that comes without arrogance or noble pretension. Although the fragrance is French, it seems tailor-made for the lifestyle of an English bon vivant. He doesn't have to be an older gentleman; no, this combination of ingredients as a whole makes the hearts of young, style-conscious men soar. Since I have always been bothered by that makeup lipstick accord in the DHI line, I am happy to experience this masterpiece (unexpectedly, as the Givenchy men's fragrances have previously been too weak for me). The top note feels like a promise of pure luxury that is fulfilled. I can't detect anything piercing; rather, I am surrounded by an opening of gently matured Scotch from the toasted barrel, deliciously supported by nutty aromas that caress the aura. In the quickly following heart note, roasted chestnuts, supported by aromatic woods and creamy iris, embrace the fragrance core for a feeling of comfort. This lasts a long time and radiates a pleasant sillage that is easily noticeable. In the base, vetiver and patchouli enhance the fragrance's progression into the spicy. I could bathe in this scent if that weren't too proletarian. Mind you, I am neither a snob nor a nerd - I am a connoisseur. It lingers on my skin for hours and delivers what it promises: pure enjoyment that transports the wearer to a better world.

The Chanel classic is a wonderful fragrance, and my predecessors have perfectly described and appreciated it. It is an honor, only it has absolutely no longevity. After a stunningly beautiful opening, the citrus notes quickly disappear, followed by the powdery accents. After half an hour, only a hint of French elegance remains, which is enchanting yet barely perceptible. After three-quarters of an hour, the magic is over - and that is just not enough for me. Disappointed, I walk down the street and wonder why it is fleeing from me. The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind...

This first men's fragrance from the "alleged" fashion brand Bogner (the simple ski Willy with his money-hungry, ambitious, unsympathetic Brazilian wife Sonia) shows hardly any development, is flat in its projection, and smells pungent like Tannöd. No wonder it was quickly replaced by Deep Forest, which at least attempts to be a woody perfume. This here is an olfactory nuisance that was rightly removed from the scene, unpleasant, intrusive, one-dimensional and - I repeat - fir-sweet and flat. And then there's this color - the most hideous fir green - in such a dress Joy Fleming had to compete for Germany at the Grand Prix in 1975. Obviously, the Forester style warms the German heart and meets with international bewilderment, if it is even noticed at all.

The shoe brand Charles Jourdan was the Manolo Blahnik or Jimmy Choo of the 70s. In the 80s, still riding on their reputation, they sold masses of bags and perfume. There was a shop on Düsseldorf's Kö, but even back then it was a niche for well-heeled industrial wives of the Rhineland, who no one found sexy - I mean the niche and the wives. Back then, just adding Paris or Milan or Beverly Hills (can anyone remember that terrible Giorgio Beverly Hills?) was enough to market successes. Cheap works when marketed as somewhat expensive. Tristano Onofri is also a brand from this niche and of course the then trendy mini-LV called MCM from Munich. The most terrible taste aberrations marketed as luxury. Exactly what this unsuccessful, bulky men's fragrance represents with its exaggeratedly penetrating me-too mentality. I can't do it, I can't, but I want to belong and sell. And just because it is supposedly 80s old-school doesn't mean it has quality or class. Back then, a lot of junk was also created.

And the time came, after ten long, fruitless years of waiting, that the royal house of Dior was once again pregnant. A men's fragrance was to be the desired child. The court, the people, and the entire state were all eagerly anticipating. As the birth approached, everyone was expelled from the queen's delivery room. Only the father and the midwife named Demachy were present. Unfortunately, he was in truth a harsh, unjust man who did not wish for the newborn child to have its royal future and crown, as he loved his own children Homme, Dune, and Fahrenheit so dearly. When the child was born, he swapped the noble men's perfume for a child from the criminal underworld. This came from a cursed Caribbean island of the pirate lineage Axe. The Axes called it Yellow Caribbean Pepper VII, the seventh offspring of the cheap line. To deceive the queen, the court, and the people, Demachy shouted out the window: "It’s a shower gel!" Quickly, the court's marketing experts dressed the shower gel in royal garments and praised it as a wild, noble descendant of the esteemed house, and no one noticed the deception. The child grew up, thrived, and due to its criminal underworld genes, it killed its older siblings and seized power for itself. And so it came to pass that a cheaply scented shower gel ruled over the entire realm. Misery and the generic scent of shower gel spread everywhere, and the people suffered under the false ruler.
Meanwhile, the royal child grew up in abject poverty. Tormented by hunger, poverty, and lack of healthcare, it had become a sickly, pale, limping boy, whose paper-thin skin was covered in scars, who possessed neither character nor strength and wandered through the forests like the other beggar children - although one could still glimpse its noble features, good heart, and well-formed physique. One day, about five years before the shower gel's rise to power, a nobleman in a little black outfit from the competition rode through the kingdom in search of an heir for his realm, for Queen Chanel could not bear children (she was already very old). He spotted the sickly boy, recognized the noble heart, and took him home. There at the court of Chanel, they dressed him in blue garments (which suited his pale appearance well) and sold the sickly offspring of royal blood from then on as the strong heir BLEU de CHANEL.