Funumai1

There are fragrances that you can categorize immediately - and then there is 20Mars2022. It comes across as quirky from the start, almost a bit cumbersome, but that's exactly what makes it interesting. Nothing about it feels pleasing or calculated.

The opening is spicy and slightly rough, with a brief fruity moment that is more irritating than inviting. This fruitiness remains deliberately vague, more suggestion than theme, and is quickly captured by dry, warm notes. You notice early on: This is not about freshness or lightness.

As it develops, a calmer middle emerges. Floral elements are present, but they do not play a leading role. They provide structure to the fragrance without softening it. Everything remains muted, almost reserved, as if the fragrance consciously does not want to explain itself.

The base feels warm, balsamic, and slightly smoky. Woods and resinous hints cling close to the skin, creating a pleasant, even depth. 20MARS2022 remains present for a long time without ever becoming intrusive.

For me, this is a fragrance for moments when you don't want to present anything. It feels concentrated, inward-looking, and very independent. Not an all-rounder and certainly not an instant crowd-pleaser - but one of those fragrances that you wear because they capture a certain mood, not because they want to be "beautiful".






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20MARS2022 is a deliberately chosen date in the future. The fragrance was released in 2017, so the title does not refer to the time of creation, but to an imaginary moment. Rundholz does not name a fragrance idea here, but a mental projection - an olfactory snapshot of a day that was still to come at the time of publication.

Tropic of Capricorn feels like a place where opposites meet. The Tropic of Capricorn marks a boundary - and this sense of limitation runs through the fragrance, even though it thematically moves in the tropics.

The opening is direct and unrefined, slightly animalistic, almost corporeal. Instead of getting lost in opulence, the fragrance quickly aligns itself. At its center is a tuberose that breaks with common expectations: not creamy, not soft, not feminine. It comes across as herbaceous, almost dry, with a vegetal bitterness that strips it of any pleasantry. More stem than bloom.

Around this tuberose, a dense, warm environment forms. Fruity hints emerge but remain in the background, like overripe fruit in the shadows. Everything feels controlled, grounded, consciously directed.

Like its name, the fragrance marks a tropic: Here it can be warm, dense, and corporeal - but never arbitrary. Everything remains under tension, everything retains form.

Fascinating!

Sometimes I wonder why it is you who stayed. About six years ago, you came to me through Parfumo, without promises, and opened something I couldn't name.

When I wear you, everything becomes a little clearer, more ordered. The fresh, almost green clarity at the beginning - a hint of rosemary - organizes thoughts without cooling them. Soon after, neroli and jasmine join in, soft, creamy, familiar. It’s not a striking floral bouquet, but rather a feeling of calm and balance that I share with myself.

Sometimes I spray you on my pillow. Then you are no longer a fragrance, but a state. Sandalwood and vetiver emerge, warm, slightly earthy, almost like a hug I give myself. Through you, nights unfold where thoughts go deeper, memories become clearer, feelings more tangible. The intense moments don’t happen with you - they happen through you. You are the trigger, not the event.

Many fragrances want to impress or loudly ask for attention. You’ve never needed that. You stay with me because you give me something in return: calm, clarity, a quiet trust. I keep returning to you. Not out of habit, but because you bring me closer to myself.

Black Gemstone does not open like a perfume - rather like the gate to a sacred place.
The first breath feels as if one could enter the courtyard of Mecca at night: a brief flicker of lemon, like light on black stone, immediately reclaimed by deep, resinous silence.

Then the fragrance grows into a metaphor of its own inspiration:
Myrrh, incense, and dark woods rise like the smoke of prayers that could envelop the Kaaba. Nothing loud, nothing decorative - everything carried by a quiet dignity that one feels more than smells. This black is not a symbol of emptiness, but a vibrant black, warm and pulsating, as if the fragrance itself carries light within.

“Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence.”
- Helen Keller

It is that moment when you drink the first cup of freshly brewed coffee in the morning - warm, comforting, and soothing. This is exactly the feeling that Mandorle Extrait de Parfum conveys.

The tonka bean takes center stage. Creamy, sweet, and vanilla-like, it wraps itself around the senses like a gentle blanket, immediately creating a sense of security. Almonds complement the play with a subtle, nutty crunch. It’s like opening a pack of Amarettini - sweet, nutty, slightly crunchy - a cozy happiness that brings a smile.

Delicate floral notes - perhaps orange blossom or white flowers - bring lightness and freshness.

Balsamic nuances and warm woody notes in the background add depth and allow the fragrance to linger elegantly on the skin.

The scent feels sweet, cuddly, and surprisingly fresh at the same time. Playful, warm, and unobtrusive, it offers a subtle moment of comfort for everyday life - almost like a small, familiar pleasure that one keeps to oneself.