FLUidENTITY
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Efficient
Can a fragrance be efficient? And if so, when is a fragrance efficient? I believe it is when it fulfills its purpose. And AC fulfills it. It cools the wearer on the hottest summer days.
Does AC offer a sophisticated scent progression? No. It doesn't need to. It is a super simply constructed summer companion that doesn't get on your nerves - decidedly uncomplicated. Free, fresh, cheerful.
It liberates and refreshes, reduced to the essentials. No olfactory painting that leaves a lot of room for interpretation. AC is easy to interpret. It is straightforward without any detours and to the point.
How can the freshness be described? Even if it sounds banal: AC is a standard fresh fragrance. The only undertone might be a slightly herbal to scratchy note. No freshness with delicate aspects like a Bergamask from Orto Parisi perhaps. AC does not play in that league.
Nevertheless: I like it. Because it is such a refreshing, uncomplicated representative. Nothing more, but also nothing less.
Does AC offer a sophisticated scent progression? No. It doesn't need to. It is a super simply constructed summer companion that doesn't get on your nerves - decidedly uncomplicated. Free, fresh, cheerful.
It liberates and refreshes, reduced to the essentials. No olfactory painting that leaves a lot of room for interpretation. AC is easy to interpret. It is straightforward without any detours and to the point.
How can the freshness be described? Even if it sounds banal: AC is a standard fresh fragrance. The only undertone might be a slightly herbal to scratchy note. No freshness with delicate aspects like a Bergamask from Orto Parisi perhaps. AC does not play in that league.
Nevertheless: I like it. Because it is such a refreshing, uncomplicated representative. Nothing more, but also nothing less.
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Self-betrayal
Prada approached L`Homme more from Dior's perspective than from its own, relying on the Prada virtues and values.
Prada has always been famous for its powdery iris. Not least, Infusion d`Homme and Infusion d`Iris stem from Daniela Andrier's artistic understanding. Now, Prada has taken on the sweet variant, and has consequently (inevitably) slipped into the Dior Homme track. Well, nothing new. If one were to list and reflect on the Dior Homme variations, one could fill libraries with them.
Somehow, I find the story around Prada L´Homme extraordinarily unfortunate. Daniela Andrier, who always conjured up powdery-fresh iris scents, must admit here that the sweet powdery iris variant is actually already overdone. Now Prada is merely jumping on a train that has long since left the station. And this, I sadly feel, makes all the old Prada masterpieces unnecessarily look outdated, as a simply sweet powdery iris now simply feels out of fashion, absolutely "copied" and almost denies its own perspectives from the past. I would have preferred a leather iris, a saffron iris, an amyris iris, or something more unusual, but not a sweet Dior iris.
Yes, the scent is stable and nothing was done wrong, a go-to that always flatters.
Yes, it is finely crafted.
No, the projection is not as desired.
Njein, the longevity is okay, but soon only a skin scent.
Yes, L´H is ultimately very, very harmless.
No, I will not buy it.
Yes, it is true, patchouli is starving.
No, neroli is not enough to sufficiently serve and maintain the Prada virtues.
Yes, it is somewhat cooler than Dior Homme.
No, the floral component is not pure iris. However, this is a weak consolation.
No, it does not come close to Dior.
Yes, it is more modern and streamlined than its French counterpart.
Njein, L´H does not really have any recognizability.
Yes, it is in a way "lighter" than the big brother from Dior.
Yes, it is in a way "thinner" than its French brother.
Yes, it gets lost among all the Dior Homme variations.
Yes, Dior Homme has been further diluted.
No, the base is not as sweet as one might assume, and is also absolutely meager.
Prada has always been famous for its powdery iris. Not least, Infusion d`Homme and Infusion d`Iris stem from Daniela Andrier's artistic understanding. Now, Prada has taken on the sweet variant, and has consequently (inevitably) slipped into the Dior Homme track. Well, nothing new. If one were to list and reflect on the Dior Homme variations, one could fill libraries with them.
Somehow, I find the story around Prada L´Homme extraordinarily unfortunate. Daniela Andrier, who always conjured up powdery-fresh iris scents, must admit here that the sweet powdery iris variant is actually already overdone. Now Prada is merely jumping on a train that has long since left the station. And this, I sadly feel, makes all the old Prada masterpieces unnecessarily look outdated, as a simply sweet powdery iris now simply feels out of fashion, absolutely "copied" and almost denies its own perspectives from the past. I would have preferred a leather iris, a saffron iris, an amyris iris, or something more unusual, but not a sweet Dior iris.
Yes, the scent is stable and nothing was done wrong, a go-to that always flatters.
Yes, it is finely crafted.
No, the projection is not as desired.
Njein, the longevity is okay, but soon only a skin scent.
Yes, L´H is ultimately very, very harmless.
No, I will not buy it.
Yes, it is true, patchouli is starving.
No, neroli is not enough to sufficiently serve and maintain the Prada virtues.
Yes, it is somewhat cooler than Dior Homme.
No, the floral component is not pure iris. However, this is a weak consolation.
No, it does not come close to Dior.
Yes, it is more modern and streamlined than its French counterpart.
Njein, L´H does not really have any recognizability.
Yes, it is in a way "lighter" than the big brother from Dior.
Yes, it is in a way "thinner" than its French brother.
Yes, it gets lost among all the Dior Homme variations.
Yes, Dior Homme has been further diluted.
No, the base is not as sweet as one might assume, and is also absolutely meager.
8 Comments
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Everybody's darling
AeZ radiates sunshine and positivity. It is a big smiley, a big glowing smiley that floats in the air around us, settling here and there before moving on. It perches on our shoulders and is a friendly, benevolent companion.
AeZ is simply constructed, caressing the soul and wanting only the best. The combination of orange and vanilla can be downright addictive. Even BOSS recognized this and staged an absolutely appealing fragrance with Orange Man. The connection is just so flattering and makes you want to dive in. Nothing more is needed. Only these two protagonists are required: orange and vanilla. Together they forge a distinctly sweet and irresistibly delicious scent with the elegance of simplicity. AeZ is absolutely straightforward; one only needs to imagine sweet vanilla and soft orange, wrapped in fluff and gentleness.
One might think that a sweet scent filled with vanilla and orange must be heavy and cumbersome, but far from it: it is nimble, cheerful, and exuberantly happy.
However, Profumum Roma goes far beyond a BOSS fragrance; a Profumum Roma is simply unmistakable. Whether AeZ, Olibanum, Arso, Caruso, Confetto, or Alba, they all exude this sublime soapy quality. Despite all the individual secrecy, AeZ is one of the most earthly Profumum Romas. Sunshine that you can look directly at without being blinded. Bright as a siren and soft as a cashmere blanket. AeZ exudes vigor.
Every Profumum Roma is precious, cuddly oil.
Beauty can take so many forms: here is one of them.
AeZ is simply constructed, caressing the soul and wanting only the best. The combination of orange and vanilla can be downright addictive. Even BOSS recognized this and staged an absolutely appealing fragrance with Orange Man. The connection is just so flattering and makes you want to dive in. Nothing more is needed. Only these two protagonists are required: orange and vanilla. Together they forge a distinctly sweet and irresistibly delicious scent with the elegance of simplicity. AeZ is absolutely straightforward; one only needs to imagine sweet vanilla and soft orange, wrapped in fluff and gentleness.
One might think that a sweet scent filled with vanilla and orange must be heavy and cumbersome, but far from it: it is nimble, cheerful, and exuberantly happy.
However, Profumum Roma goes far beyond a BOSS fragrance; a Profumum Roma is simply unmistakable. Whether AeZ, Olibanum, Arso, Caruso, Confetto, or Alba, they all exude this sublime soapy quality. Despite all the individual secrecy, AeZ is one of the most earthly Profumum Romas. Sunshine that you can look directly at without being blinded. Bright as a siren and soft as a cashmere blanket. AeZ exudes vigor.
Every Profumum Roma is precious, cuddly oil.
Beauty can take so many forms: here is one of them.
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The Black Plural
A drop, no: A tear of Sandor moistens my wrist. It is a small tear, Sandor doesn’t need much to make an impact. The tear smells black. Sandor is the concentrate of all the nuances that black encompasses. The bottle is full of tears, full of black tears, torn tears, destroyed tears.
The leather is dark black, a torn tear. The sage is black, a destroyed tear. The patchouli is dark brown, a tear. Sandor is marked by so many shades of darkness and yet embodies the essence of the deepest nuance from the engulfing black depth.
And yet there is irony in Sandor. Bergamot and jasmine want to stand out and distinguish themselves from the raven-black atmosphere of Sandor. But they undermine this expectation and surrender to the power of the tears of the black pull of leather and patchouli without a fight. The tears tolerate no rebellion and suffocate all hopes in their infancy. Sandor expresses with flawless perfection the aesthetics of the ugly. Fascinating yet chilling.
Sandor is bulky, dirty, and unconventional. Neither the notes harmonize, nor does the scent wish to open itself to its observers. Lonely and whimpering, it shuts itself off from the world, renouncing all joys around it, without vigor.
Sandor is asceticism, unconditional renunciation, the ruthless turn inward: Into the essence of endless black nuances.
Sandor smells strong like teak wood, yet light like a tear, yet brittle like withered wood, yet dry like a dusty steppe.
(PS: Unromantically put: Sandor has something of furniture polish.)
The leather is dark black, a torn tear. The sage is black, a destroyed tear. The patchouli is dark brown, a tear. Sandor is marked by so many shades of darkness and yet embodies the essence of the deepest nuance from the engulfing black depth.
And yet there is irony in Sandor. Bergamot and jasmine want to stand out and distinguish themselves from the raven-black atmosphere of Sandor. But they undermine this expectation and surrender to the power of the tears of the black pull of leather and patchouli without a fight. The tears tolerate no rebellion and suffocate all hopes in their infancy. Sandor expresses with flawless perfection the aesthetics of the ugly. Fascinating yet chilling.
Sandor is bulky, dirty, and unconventional. Neither the notes harmonize, nor does the scent wish to open itself to its observers. Lonely and whimpering, it shuts itself off from the world, renouncing all joys around it, without vigor.
Sandor is asceticism, unconditional renunciation, the ruthless turn inward: Into the essence of endless black nuances.
Sandor smells strong like teak wood, yet light like a tear, yet brittle like withered wood, yet dry like a dusty steppe.
(PS: Unromantically put: Sandor has something of furniture polish.)
4 Comments
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To Feel a Fragrance
The future belongs to you, Annette Neuffer. There is perhaps no more impressive name for a fragrance than Stardust, no more striking design than that of the bottle that disperses stardust. It cascades down upon us and exudes the scent of the stars. The fragrance envelops you like the protective wings of an angel who cares for you.
It feels sweet, it feels woody, it feels fruity, it feels resinous. Can you feel a fragrance? You can feel a fragrance, you can feel Stardust. I feel vanilla, I feel the tangerine. I sense the cocoa; even Laboratorio Olfattivo has not made cocoa more palpable in the wonderfully adrenaline-free symphony Alambar. The scent is lush, yet not heavy, soft and gentle. It sparkles both bright and dark. The vanilla is at the heart of the composition. The stardust swirls around the celestial guardians at the gates of the heavenly dome and envelops the heavenly messengers.
Stardust symbolizes multiple nuances simultaneously, just as every fragrance from Annette Neuffer's manufactory represents a combination of shades and nuances. I feel how the nuances come alive, just as one becomes fully aware of all their senses and every single pore of the body in the spirit of Eastern philosophy.
What reveals itself is naturalness. The nature of humanity, when one feels within, and the nature of the fragrance, when one feels into it. Here is peace, here is happiness, in human nature, in Stardust.
It feels sweet, it feels woody, it feels fruity, it feels resinous. Can you feel a fragrance? You can feel a fragrance, you can feel Stardust. I feel vanilla, I feel the tangerine. I sense the cocoa; even Laboratorio Olfattivo has not made cocoa more palpable in the wonderfully adrenaline-free symphony Alambar. The scent is lush, yet not heavy, soft and gentle. It sparkles both bright and dark. The vanilla is at the heart of the composition. The stardust swirls around the celestial guardians at the gates of the heavenly dome and envelops the heavenly messengers.
Stardust symbolizes multiple nuances simultaneously, just as every fragrance from Annette Neuffer's manufactory represents a combination of shades and nuances. I feel how the nuances come alive, just as one becomes fully aware of all their senses and every single pore of the body in the spirit of Eastern philosophy.
What reveals itself is naturalness. The nature of humanity, when one feels within, and the nature of the fragrance, when one feels into it. Here is peace, here is happiness, in human nature, in Stardust.
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