FabianO

The first Benchaâbane I hold my fingers, and it leaves me somewhat perplexed.
The already very contrary comments below encourage me to sort "Mogador" into a category of bulkiness and questionability

Very peculiar, let's start with that. In the first minutes a confusion of room scent elements of the winter spice fraction, obtrusively much cardamom, a bit prickly with ginger mixed.

Then something more orderly, the above tree of life penetrates more. Vegetable, slightly ivy, slightly poisonous-green, nutmeg as a slightly edgy-nutty spice in the background.

After 20 minutes it gets a little rounder, although my astonishment about the strangely combined aromas does not want to give way. It remains ingwerzitrisch green and extraordinarily vegetable, slightly mineral (probably thanks to ambergris) and somewhat dull and dry thanks to the quite overdosed cardamom.

No, not an experience I really want to repeat with joy

It's horrible: at the moment I don't manage to cross our really short shopping street in Bad Segeberg - even with a brisk pace - without being enveloped by "Sauvage" swaths at least twice. Perfectly sausages thereby, whether 20 or 65 years old - this mass compatibility monster integrates obviously all age groups and devours, whoever it gets at the trouser hem.

I don't know why a perfume variant has to clog the shelves in addition to the highly average and clean many-grey EdT and the somewhat airier, yet 90 % identical "Cool Spray". Here again - almost cowardly to be called - the aroma screw was touched at best, but hardly moved from the place. And if it is, it's made worse.

This stuff is driving me crazy. Of all the would-be savages, this is really the worst. Ambroxan has become even more spacious and obtrusive, occupying 80% of the aroma volume when felt. Artificially clean, shower gel synthetic, literally loud in its affected laundry cleanliness, in the middle of it still somewhat annoyingly mint like, mineral in an intensifier-pushed, techno-like way.

There is no room for nature, no room for free associations, no room for development in the many hours that "Sauvage" remains leaden and lies on the skin like a fixation solution and spits like a banal radio pop song with the same beat and shallow singing all the time.
That's all I can think of...

GoodSmeller than the previous speaker has already wrung out L'Ebolario by every trick in a linguistically very successful way. Maybe I still get 2-3 remaining analytical drops...

Yes, the flacon looks blatantly cheap, and the camel motif is also very similar to the illustrations on the classic green Karl May Bamberg volumes. In general - I find the illustrations and the naming somewhat misleading, I do not locate the fragrance in the deepest Orient, at best in southern Sicily with a telescope view to Tunisia

Sure, there is cinnamon in it and vanilla as well - but all in all, "Méharées" seems surprisingly fresh, lively in all its rather casual gourmandism. This may be due to the powerfully dosed, thoroughly juicy orange, which is at the same time contrasted by reserved spices.

Qualitatively, there is nothing bad to be said about this therapy. Extremely homogeneous orange, cinnamon, vanilla, a micro-quantity of rose and later a more expansive, inviting milk-cookoa-like patchouli form a feel-good scent at the interface between late summer and early autumn. Beautiful, despite its clumsy shell.

Rather by chance I stumbled across a "Nile" sample, for years I had always seen him only in the ladies department of perfumeries. That he should be unisex, I noticed only on the sample package.

What can I say? Most praise him, Catch22 picks him apart in the grossest way - and I am actually the latter (and thus the minority opinion) very strongly inclined.

I feel the same way as I do with a great many Ellena fragrances by now: he's a one-minute seducer, a trickster and sleight-of-hand of the first order. To explain:

In the first 2 minutes, I found "Un Jardin sur le Nil" nice at first. Lively, upbeat, fresh, spring-like. I felt the same way about "Déclaration", "Voyage d'Hermès" and other Ellenas at the time. In the hair tips of the top note, the old fox still integrates natural, authentic aromas that elicit a brief "Aaah!" or "Oooh!". The "Nile" shows wiry grapefruit, also exotic-fresh mango.

And then - pardon, I have to call it - the shit happens: no 5 minutes are over and the "Nile" transforms into a skin-less, lifeless and soulless monster from the house of "Ambroxiso-e-super".

Padang!!! Exactly the same aroma level and spectrum as "Voyage..." and "Déclaration", quite ellenatypisch and not even to be confused with the whole shower gel lab fragrances à la Boss and Davidoff. Not at all. He has there already his special fragrance oil mixtures and their recipe well locked away.

Nevertheless, it is - but again - this unbearably artificially pure, antiseptic, the impression of freshness wanting to create standard aroma, which acts 97% of the time bar any development, in which the fragrance stays on the skin.

With me also no image arises before the inner eye, there I am with the critics below. The long name deceives, lulls one. Nile, garden - hmmm...Egypt, desert, sand, oasis, sunshine, relaxation.... But there's no mood wanting to emerge from the flat 100%-white-veil-synthetic, no association with such insistently delivered love for the lab wedding.

I love Ellena's "Rocabar," I appreciate his "Terre d'Hermès," I like his "Ambre Narguilé." But this is the same total failure as above-mentioned fragrances, which are all equally bland and distant from life knitted and basically just a bloated celebration of artificial and at the same time intrusive cleanliness and purity.

The strawberry thing. Well, Terra sums it up very well below. Above says none, but in fact, this summery, red fruit brings a kind of irritation momentum in the fragrance.

"Ecstasy" would be basically a relatively 'stink`normally made, quite a bit woody-tree incense fragrance, were it not for this - unfortunately quite verpappt sweet - fruit juice tone.

Yes, in short, it completely shatters the whole arrangement. The incense somewhat acidic-sacral, pine slightly resinous - it could have been quite a nice autumn forest walk in a medieval Italian mountain village.

But those powerfully sugared strawberries, also artificial, somewhat syrupy, stick and bake around inside, which smells like your highly unpleasantly gummy hands at the amusement park after eating a crepe whose gooey filling has dripped onto your fingers, while there's no toilet nearby for miles.

Nope, failed due to the shrill cacophony, unfortunately. On edge.