FvSpee

Anyone who is even a superficial observer of the fragrance scene knows that the brand 4711 has long since moved beyond the beloved and hated grandma evergreen 'Original Kölnisch Wasser.' By this, I do not mean the significantly less known, but also very traditional solitaires like 'Portugal' (a huge hit in the Japanese market and really good with orange) or 'Ice' (so menthol that it eats away at the skin).

What is truly new, and what is increasingly making 4711 a genuinely differentiated and internationally reputable global brand for (affordable everyday) fragrances, are the three very successful series. The smallest of these is the Remix series, in which a reinterpretation of the classic 4711 is presented annually. The other two, the larger ones, are an Aqua Colonia series, whose titles typically consist of two ingredients (e.g., 'Blood Orange & Basil') and an Aqua Colonia Intense line, where the names of the fragrances always paint a geographical mood picture like 'Wakening Woods of Scandinavia' or 'Pure Breeze of Himalaya.'

In itself, this emission policy is already quite inflationary (analogous to Guerlain's endless Aqua Allegoria series), but I still keep at least one eye roughly on it: since I am somehow the Cologne uncle here, it is a kind of honorary duty. When I learned last year that a Laos fragrance would seriously be launched in the country series, I was, of course, immediately electrified and noted it down for upcoming purchase and testing pleasure. Because I belong to the globally small species of fans of the very small, very poor, and geographically extremely disadvantageous Asian landlocked state of Laos*. For several years, I proudly displayed the Laos flag on my Parfumo profile until I replaced it yesterday with that of Ukraine.

The fragrance is called "Refreshing Lagoons of Laos," and not only those who are old enough to remember the teenage softcore erotic film "The Blue Lagoon" with Brooke Shields from 1980 will raise a big "Huh?" because it was just mentioned that Laos is a landlocked country and therefore, by law, has as many blue lagoons as Luxembourg, namely none.

What is meant are not flat sandy beaches, but the (moderately) famous blue freshwater lagoons or caves along various river courses in Laos. Almost always, these refer to Vang Vieng, a small spot on the Nam Song River halfway between the "two capitals" Vientiane and Luang Prabang. Fortunately, most buyers of the fragrance do not know the background, as Vang Vieng is somewhat like the Ballermann of Laos.

European, American, and Australian backpacker teenagers with sunburn have habitually gotten high at "Beach" parties here for the last one to two decades, surrounded by loud music, Beer Lao, Lao Lao (the local liquor), and various mushrooms, only to then comatose themselves into the lagoon while groping or throwing up, thus experiencing the last refreshment of their lives. The marketing department of 4711 wisely did not pick up on these motifs in the advertising photo series for this fragrance. I find the images quite beautiful. Whether they are actually from Laos, I do not know.

Refreshing Lagoons of Laos is already quite far from a traditional Cologne, but the relationship is still recognizable. It starts unmistakably herb-bitter-citrusy, but in a gentle, mild, somewhat softened way. However, it does not come across as musky-fluffy, but somehow fruity (I think of mango) and above all actually really, really cool and refreshing. Pomelo with ice-cold, minimally sweet mango sorbet, so to speak. Above it blows a stiff aquatic breeze. This may sound overloaded, too fruity, or kitschy. But I must say, I really like it. And I can abstract from the 'Laos' in the title!

The cucumber indicated in the top note (which can always tempt me) I only perceive later, along with intense but still appropriately discreet tropical-floral notes and a highly interesting salty nuance, which briefly reminds me of my 10-point favorite Azemour les Orangers, even though the two fragrances have nothing to do with each other, of course. Even later, after about four to six hours in the dry down (Cologne Intense!), I actually perceive a light, woody base.

The fragrance is full and soft in overall impression, has a slight tendency towards the feminine, but pleases both Frau von Spee and myself well on me. It successfully combines classic citrus in a really successful way with aquatic, salty, and skillfully tropical association-creating restrained floral and fruity motifs. This is certainly not a "big" fragrance, but I consider it quite successful and innovative, will surely wear it more often, and (albeit narrowly) give it an eight.

It should be noted that 4711 continues its policy of engaging interesting, often young, and often French perfumers from outside for its three "series." Here, Elise Bénat was involved, who, as the fantastic Parfumo database reveals, has created a whole series of fragrances for trash brands, but, listen, listen, has also created several Amouages. And she has already collaborated with the great Fabrice Pellegrin, who has created, among others, Wanted, Bracken Man, and a whole series of Diptyque perfumes.

Voilà, I will see if this remains the only fragrance of all time ever named after Laos, will continue to observe the often seen 4711s, and so Buddha willing, I will also see Laos again someday.

Eighth visit to the café. Blog has been updated.

* Currently, it is almost impossible to visit Laos, as the country is practically closed to foreigners due to the Corona pandemic (or perhaps under the pretext of the pandemic). For those interested in Laos: one or two years ago, I wrote a small Laos series in my Parfumo blog.

With the ingredients and product names, Harry Lehmann is equally mysterious. There are no fragrance pyramids; the scents are only described with elliptical attributes like "floral-fresh" or "mysteriously spicy." Inquiries in the store are usually answered very politely but evasively. Only for those EdPs from Lehmann that are sold under the same name, but at a multiple price, at "Frau Toni's Parfums" under license, can one see a bit behind the scenes, as Frau Toni's offers classic pyramids.

When it comes to names, Lehmann has a preference for geographical designations, especially cities, but their selection is sometimes enigmatic. A cherry scent named Kyoto is still conventional, but apples from Naples (why not Napoli or Neapel?) and oranges from Boston? Here we have Key West. Key West is a city on a small island off the coast of Florida, and since it is connected to the mainland by a bridge, it is considered the "southernmost city of the continental USA." Perhaps it is either this, or the fact that Hemingway lived here for a while, that makes the place at least somewhat well-known worldwide, even though it has only about 25,000 inhabitants, which is as many as Butzbach in Hesse, Lauf an der Pegnitz in Bavaria, or Werder (Havel) in Brandenburg.

After a certain pause, Harry Lehmann released about half a dozen new fragrances in 2021, of which Merano and this one are my favorites. I dedicated statements to the only mediocre one a few months ago.

Key West delights with a classic, powerful citrus-green opening with an almost astringent orange spiciness very much in the style of Springfield (and just a tiny bit also of Esterel). That’s high praise from me, as Springfield (also eliciting sighs and longing looks from the ladies in my circle) is, alongside Russian Leather, Linden Blossom, New York Cologne, and the no longer produced (original) Fougère, my favorite scent from the rich Lehmann range. Both on the skin and in the nose, the scent here has a somewhat fragrant oil-like consistency, making one begin to worry about the spray nozzle of the bottle. This underscores the hesperidic-green punch of Key West: we are far from a Cologne here.

As it develops further (with overall slightly reduced projection and longevity), Key West becomes more varied and nuanced than Springfield. While the tiny, barely discernible, but perhaps ultimately defining animalistic sidekick of its older brother is missing, my scent imagination here notes: a bush standing at a great distance with strongly fragrant flowers; earthy, soon a bit clay-like, soon a bit spicy brown tones, and a slightly basic note.

In the late phase (this is thus a rather atypically development-strong scent for Lehmann), a very nice, quite classic men's base emerges, which almost reminds one of the exquisite Antaeus base with a lot of oak moss and patchouli, along with a fine bittersweet hint of lavender, however it may have made its way into the base note.

As far as it has been claimed here that Key West is reminiscent of Terre d'Hermès, I cannot really judge that, as I have only tested this popular scent once several years ago and did not like it at that time. I believe that Key West is different, but my memory may deceive me.

I will certainly test the scent, of which I have acquired a 15-ml bottle, a few more times critically and perhaps fine-tune the evaluation a bit. In any case, Key West is a strong contender among the young Lehmanns. And since my weakness for this brand is well-known: It is worth shouting 'Go West!' in Berlin and paying a visit to the iconic store on Kantstraße.

D:SOL MMXVI is a (surprise!) beauty luxury brand founded in 2016 by entrepreneur and impresario Dennis Werner (often playfully referred to with a cheeky "K." between his first and last name), whose life, at least according to his self-stylization in a very self-stylized public appearance, takes place between Berlin and Mallorca.

To launch three fragrances for his brand, Mr. W. made the commendable decision to hire another part-time Berliner, namely the highly esteemed perfumer Marie Le Fèbvre, who, along with her husband Alexander Urban, runs her own label, Urban Scents. Since the master, when it comes to development, stands for Slow Scent, it took until September 2020 for the perfumes to actually see the light of day.

'Herbes' means 'herbs' not only in French but also in Catalan and refers to a specific Mallorcan herbal liqueur dating back to the late Middle Ages (EU protected designation: 'Herbes de Mallorca'), which is still produced today by eight different manufacturers (and of course by small producers for personal use). The liqueur is typically flavored with orange and other citrus fruits, chamomile, and various herbs and spices; it typically has an anise note.

The scent 'Herbes' is explicitly inspired by this herbal liqueur. To what extent the portrait is successful, I cannot judge, as I have not yet had the opportunity to taste the little concoction, in any of its eight plus x variations. Therefore, I can only appreciate the scent without references to the liqueur.

'Herbes' is, contrary to the thoughts that may arise with 'liqueur', not sweet (at most as a delicate counterbalance to the bitter notes), and the peppermint note is, contrary to the indications in the fragrance pyramid and in the statements of numerous pre-tasters, extremely subtle and very firmly integrated. If I didn't know that peppermint is included, I definitely wouldn't have guessed it.

The 45 ingredients, according to the manufacturer, of this not - as is usually the case with Marie Le Fèbvre - light-footed, but rather full-bodied and somewhat brash fragrance make it unpredictably changeable. It is neither a linear scent nor one with a traditional development from light top notes to stable residual notes, but it belongs to the kaleidoscope type.

In terms of green notes, I perceive less fresh mint than crushed leaves and grass between my hands. The orange notes, which manifest more in the later phase of the scent than at the outset, have a herb-spicy sweetness, more like dried or subtly candied pomelos than fleshy-fresh juice oranges. The spices have a slight, dull bitterness that underpins the scent in a subtly but distinctly noticeable way like a bass accompaniment. The blend undoubtedly includes anise and cumin, which I have no issues with (on the contrary).

The predominant color of 'Herbes' for me is brown in various shades from light straw color to earthy medium brown. Sometimes I associate the rich yellow of damp straw, then a papery strictness of dried flowers, soon adult delicacies like cloves and candied orange peel in a rural kitchen made of gnarled dark wood, but most often earthy and clay-like natural images in various tones.

I have a weakness for scents in brown tones that fluctuate between melancholic sadness and soft sweetness, as I know since my love for Pierre Guillaume's "25 Indochine." Those who feel similarly, and of course fans of Marie Le Fèbvre, are highly recommended to test this fragrance.

The three perfumes from the house are available in a trio sample set for 15 euros. If you then purchase a bottle of one of the three fragrances, the price of the sample set will be deducted, which I think is a good idea.

Many thanks to Knopfnase for bringing this brand to my attention.

Recently, I have been somewhat quiet here. Missed or not, on my fifth Parfumo birthday, on which I still consider myself a novice in the world of fragrance, I am speaking up to introduce a holiday-appropriate dreamlike scent that must, of course, be a Cologne and a bit crazy.

Novaya Zarya is probably the largest and most traditional Soviet and now Russian fragrance brand. It has the legendary "Red Moscow," reformulated countless times, in its program, beloved by the wives of Politburo members and singers of the Moscow Opera; however, a certain focus of the portfolio lies on affordable everyday fragrances, namely the Colognes. In Russian, Eau de Cologne has been called "Odekolon" since Napoleon's times (the equivalent of the Turkish "Kolonya"), and Russian literature is full of characters who repurpose these little waters orally when no vodka is at hand.

If you look closely at the Russian text on the label, you read in Cyrillic "O-de-Kolon Svetocnyi ot Brokar Novaya Zarya," and below it, in Latin letters, it also says "Brocard 1864." So, this is an Odekolon from Novaya Zarya, named "Svetocnyi ot Brokar." "Svetocnyi" means "Floral," which is how the Parfumo registration has rendered the name, and "ot Brokar" means "by Brocard." This indicates that the fragrance is older than the company. It was first launched by the French-Russian perfume house Brocard (probably in 1882). This company, based in St. Petersburg, was one of the largest, most important, and modern perfumeries of its time; it was founded in 1864 (hence this year on the label) and went under in 1917 amidst the turmoil of war and revolution.

I am not aware that 'Floral' (to stick with the Parfumo naming) is available outside of Russia. The website of Novaya Zarya, which is hardly findable via Google, is novzar.ru and is exclusively accessible in Russian, and as far as I understand, you can only order the fragrances within Russia through the online shop. The 85-ml bottle of 'Floral' costs 92 rubles, which is about 1.07 euros. The fragrance pyramid is listed there as follows: Top: Hawthorn, Bergamot, Peach. Heart: Violet, Jasmine, Rose. Base: Sandalwood, Cedarwood, Musk.

Floral Colognes do not typically find their way into my Cologne comments on Parfumo, as I perceive them as a separate world that has little to do with classic colognes. However, this scent is not only exceptionally beautiful but has (contrary to the appearance of the fragrance pyramid) retained a delightfully fresh, light, citrusy character that guarantees it a permanent place in the Colognists' Café.

'Floral' is an airy scent that, when worn in winter, immediately drives away the cold and evokes daydreams of early summer on a vast Ukrainian flower meadow. Despite a certain development, it possesses an enormous inner unity; it is fresh and cheerful, bright and light from the source to the fading. When considered as a color, the scent comes to me as lemon yellow - spring green - medium violet.

The opening of 'Floral' is an elusive floral citrus, soon joined by a light green tone reminiscent of freshly cut young grass. This is followed by pastel (but not sweet or girlish) floral touches, which I would have most likely identified as lily of the valley without knowledge of the pyramid. However, violet and (a hint of) jasmine are also plausible. The rose is only very discreetly hinted at. I also perceived a hint of fruit (and associated a very delicate strawberry with a touch of tonka bean), but the indicated peach note is likely even more accurate. In the drydown, after about four to five hours, spicy-woody, almost smoky notes can indeed be sensed, but even this is only like shadows of an afternoon rêverie.

Overall, a rarely beautiful, dreamily wafted citrus-green fragrance with floral and even fruity nuances, which reminds me (not of the scent details, but of the 'soul') of my beloved and 150 times more expensive Bal d'Afrique by Byredo. Anyone who finds themselves in Russia (which is hardly likely due to the apocalyptic riders of war and plague) or, like me, has the luck to barter for a sample of the scent should, whether lady or gentleman, seize the opportunity boldly.

Sixth visit to the café. The overview in the blog has been updated.

It is often complained that there are hardly any real gentlemen left today. At Givenchy, this is definitely not the case. They are becoming more and more numerous. It all started in 1974 with 'Givenchy Gentleman', followed by the flanker 'Gentlemen Only' in 2013. Since then, old-school gentlemen have been multiplying like rabbits.

In addition to the singular Gentleman from 1974, there is now a 'Gentleman Givenchy', with the word components reversed, released as EdT (2017), EdP (2018), and here, voilà, as EdC (2019). After that, the common concentrations were exhausted, leading to a somewhat wooden gentleman (Gentleman Boisée, 2020) and an intense gentleman (Gentleman EdT intense, 2021), which seems a bit questionable to me, as I always thought that gentlemen are characterized by noble restraint.

The plural gentlemen have also not been idle. There was an Intense (2014), then a Casual Chic (2015), and then, in the same year 2016, a Fraiche and an Absolute. For the past 5 years, there has been a frightening calm in the plural branch. One can only hope that these gentlemen are not afflicted by a lasting malaise.

I do not know all these fragrances and do not wish to know them all. I own the original Gentlemen Only from 2013 and have tested two or three others. Based on this narrow empirical foundation, I dare to say that all the gentlemen are indeed closely related, or, as one might say scientifically: they share the same DNA. So, anyone who knows one or two other representatives of this clan should not expect anything completely different from this Cologne.

These gentlemen are not the type of eccentric nobles who urinate in wide arcs from the roof of their Scottish estate, praise Pol Pot over whisky in the gentlemen's club, or wear ladies' underwear under their tailcoats. They are rather younger gentlemen of the upper middle class with bourgeois professions, smooth and friendly, unobtrusive, sometimes to the point of being overly discreet.

This fragrance is more Givenchy Gentleman than Cologne, but at least: The citrusy top note is present, and the (here more bitter than fresh-green) rosemary, which is included in almost every authentic Cologne from 4711 to Alvarez Gomez, is not missing. However, one must almost know about this Cologne-like quality beforehand to recognize it. Because the modern tendency since Mugler's Cologne to soften a classic Cologne with musk (which I personally abhor) is so exaggerated here that it - a dialectical transformation from quantity to quality! - becomes good again. Alongside a generous splash of musk, there is also a directly connected herb-creamy iris, served with a rough ladle, and, as if that weren't enough, a pleasantly fibrous vetiver.

Thus, this fragrance actually moves almost beyond the boundaries of what I consider Cologne in my series. However, what is typically Cologne is the low longevity of about two to three hours. I do not perceive this as a drawback; on the contrary, it contributes to my appreciation of this fragrance, and I keep it in my collection instead of the original plural. This herb-creamy elegant freshness is very pleasant for a short time and can be congenially suitable, for instance, when you step into a light gray suit after a fresh shower; as a companion for the entire day, it would be a bit too ungripping for me.

I should add that I came to the overall good idea of trying this gentleman through the esteemed Runa, who enriched this forum for quite some time with her youthful and fresh writing. It is a pity that she has fallen silent here (for the time being, I hope not permanently). But the number of gentlemen and gentlewomen I miss in this forum is growing just as quickly as that of the Givenchy flankers.

Fifth visit to the Colognisten Café. Blog has been updated.