KJV

When Cool Water Eau de Toilette hit the market in 1988, we were inundated with images of almost naked, tanned, muscular men, leaping from cliffs in cinema ads, splashing into foaming turquoise waves, cutting through bright blue waters, and rising like Aquaman from the cool depths, sparkling water droplets flying everywhere...
That was new and hit like a belly flop (sorry, I couldn't resist).

Olfactorily socialized by a grandmother who loved exclusive floral and leather scents and a mother who at the time mainly wore the popular heavy orientals (but also had a few classic green scents in her cabinet) and who both had no qualms about wearing men's fragrances, I HAD to test the scent...
And of course, I was bitterly disappointed.
It smelled primarily very artificial-chemical (today one would say "synthetic") and somehow piercing.
And it especially did not smell like the sea.
With that, the topic of aquatics was off the table for a very long time for me.

And then came Parfumo... :-)
...
As my collection gradually took shape over the years on Parfumo and increasingly covered my olfactory desires, it became clear to me that the topic of aquatics could not be over. So I started testing. Only:

How does "sea" smell to me?
And do I want to smell like that?

It quickly became clear that I wasn't thinking about sandy beaches and sunscreen, nor cocktails at the beach bar, definitely not fruit salad. The sea does not smell like "Batida de Coco" commercials. There isn't even any salt in that.

Sea salt is, of course, a scent note that must be included in the "smell of the sea"! But how do you simulate this scent note when pure salt has no smell?
That screams for algae...

Algae were the toughest test for me. Not that I wouldn't know this smell, having encountered it in several oceans, I have traveled a bit after all. Particularly unpleasant are washed-up algae with rotten fish, whether at Lake Constance or in Tahiti, in the harbor of Bergen or on a Cycladic island, whether at Malibu Beach or in the swimming pool of *neverhappensanywhere*... oops, that was something else that washed up...

The sea definitely does not smell like a swimming pool, I can say that as a former competitive swimmer who has encountered quite a few swimming pools, including the accompanying scents of competitions. Latex, tight-fitting plastic swim caps, athlete's foot spray, and citrus cleaners don't need to be part of it either; the smell of chlorine is bad enough. The smell of a swimming pool combined with a cocktail bar and Batida is right on the edge of gagging. Or over it.

Better to return to the world oceans and the Mediterranean coasts! Yes, I do like herbs. Very much, in fact. Even in perfume! And also the scent of wonderful trees...
With something like "Pine Forest on the Coast of Tuscany" or "Corsican Maquis on the Rocky Coast" or "Cedar Trees near Taormina," you’ve got me; images of beautiful landscapes unfold before me.
But not of the sea.

It’s similar with flowers. No matter how much they like to spread their scent messages on the wings of a supposed "sea breeze," they remain flowers and just don’t grow in the sea. OK, I’d rather not come back to the algae now... :-)

The idea of a sea breeze, however, is interesting to me. Sea breeze and especially spray and rocks - that brings us closer to the "sea" section in my little self-constructed scent library in my brain...

I bought Eau des Merveilles Bleue blind because I couldn't find a sample for over a year. And it was - maritime speaking - "bullseye."
Now there is a fixed place in my fragrance wardrobe (which really shouldn't get any bigger) for a so-called "aquatic." Eau des Merveilles Bleue almost perfectly hits what I imagine a sea scent to be - in my statement, I wrote "No sunscreen, no tropical fruit nonsense, no exotic floral notes - just sea, spray, and minerals - completely without algae muck. Perfect!" and the longer it stays in my repertoire, the more it grows on me; I am practically in love.
Right under my own nose, it appears almost inconspicuous - but in fact, it is one of the few scents that I have been positively commented on multiple times (which rarely happens to me); it seems to develop a very pleasant aura around you if I can trust the feedback. It lasts forever on textiles...

Anyone who wants the sea and needs more than Eau des Merveilles Bleue can optionally layer a drop of Caipi, Batida, algae, rotten fishing nets, chlorine, herbs, flowers, whatever; I am convinced it works great with this scent.

But less is more.
I think.
And that is what Eau des Merveilles Bleue can do.

"Sparkling Sand" by Jacques Zolty was one of the first fragrances I added to my wishlist after signing up here on Parfumo in early 2018.
It took me 2.5 years to finally get a whiff of it...
I didn't even remember why I had added it to my list, and the fragrance pyramid was clearly far from what I thought I had identified as my preferences (in fact, there are several scent notes listed that I generally don't like at all).

When I first sprayed it on during the scorching summer of 2020 without any expectations (apricot? leather? few, and extremely varied opinions on Parfumo?), I was completely surprised and immediately "hooked." And when a good offer flashed across my screen, I simply couldn't resist getting a bottle right away. I have rarely been so impulsive with a fragrance!

Originally purchased as a summer scent (as a change from my otherwise predominantly green-fresh summer freshies) - a job this fragrance does exceptionally well - it has accompanied me through all seasons over the past approximately 1.5 years, continually fascinating and surprising me with new facets.

If you're hoping I could break down and analyze the composition and individual scent notes here, I must unfortunately disappoint you - I still can't do it.
This fragrance has long become an all-time favorite for me - a "go-to" that is always special and always a bit "different," that can be worn very well in any season and for any occasion, while managing to be both pleasing and "unique" at the same time.

I won't even try to navigate through this review along the fragrance pyramid - although I have learned a lot since signing up on Parfumo, successfully "trained" my nose, and improved my ability to articulate my scent impressions (sure, there's still a lot more to learn), "Sparkling Sand" simply eludes all of that, because it is definitely a chameleon!

At one point, I went through a phase (or was it just the weather? or my mood?) where a bitter almond note or marzipan note came to my nose that I didn't like at all (and which I would currently associate most with the apricot kernel), but even this tiny "disruptive note" has long since been relativized in my little "fragrance universe."

To anyone who has only tested this fragrance once, I strongly encourage you to give it another thorough try - it could be that this chameleon catches you completely off guard at a different time of year or with a different mood.

The name is misleading; those expecting a beach-sand-sunscreen scent will be disappointed, even though the fragrance fits perfectly with the Zolty-typical casual light linen suit and Panama hat. Contrary to this association, the scent is definitely unisex, not just because light linen suits also look great on women.

For me, a great love for fragrance! Still!
And I am curious about what we will experience together, as I am sure it will continue to surprise me and present itself to me in completely new ways.

Oh yes, the longevity is excellent even in scorching temperatures, the bottle is functional and handy, magnetic closure, not a design highlight in my eyes (but my taste is certainly not a standard), and the photo currently shown on Parfumo is incorrect; the liquid is significantly darker.

About two years ago, during a purchase at an AF in the Souk, I picked up "Buddha Wood" as a sort of "additional buy" while browsing through the other offerings. I liked the name, I found molecular scents intriguing, sandalwood (or so I thought back then) is always a good choice, so why not?
So, I sprayed it on my skin, but no, that was not "my" sandalwood, too synthetic, somewhat sour... Nope, not for me. And so the AF disappeared into the depths of my perfume cabinet among the samples and AF clutter.
Back then.

Recently, one evening, I finally decided to do a bit of decluttering. Everything went onto a large tray to sort through the jumble of samples and decants calmly at the big table in the living room, to check my notes, update my lists and folders, and select the unnecessary to soon contribute it to the general Parfumo cycle through a giveaway...
And then I stumbled upon the "Buddha Wood" AF. No, I didn't spray it, just smelled the sprayer, but somehow a tiny amount got onto my fingers.
And I was blown away. Absolutely!
I spent the night with my fingers in my nose. OK, not quite, but I just couldn't get away from this scent...

Accordingly, the next day, a full test was on the agenda.
What do we actually have here?
A fragrance from a Danish manufacturer of molecular scents. OK, I know a bit about molecular scents, the infamous "Molecule 01" from Escentric Molecules is in my cabinet, acquired to play around with a bit, but ultimately I found it rather boring, too pale on its own, and as a "scent enhancer," it felt more like glutamate in food to me. You can use it, but you can also skip it, I don't need it.
And what does the creator of "Buddha Wood" say?
Ah yes, the scent develops only on the wearer's skin, individual aura, a unique scent signature for each individual, etc... blah blah blah... heard it all before, molecular scent after all, pure synthetic.

I actually have nothing against synthetics; I am well aware that even in the bottles of those who advertise with "natural fragrance materials," there are not just the purest natural essences. And of course, I also know that many "synthetic fragrance materials" come across as purer and clearer than the original essences, and I generally like purity and clarity. In fact, I don't even care whether a scent is produced synthetically - as long as it smells good on me.
Synthetics certainly have their advantages; Zarkoperfume highlights them by explicitly stating that the scents are 100% cruelty-free, 100% vegan, sustainable, and resource-saving. I find that appealing. That synthetic fragrance materials might be better suited for sensitive skin and allergy sufferers, I acknowledge, but since I am hardly affected, that doesn't earn any extra points.

Enough of the theory - how does it smell, this molecular scent, more precisely: How does it smell on me?
What had I noted down two years ago? How did I comment on the scent back then?
"Sour-synthetic-fluffy," I wrote back then, and that it wasn't "my" sandalwood.
And today, after testing numerous sandalwood scents without finding "my" sandalwood?
"Synthetic-fluffy," yes indeed, and I love it! It radiates, it shimmers, glimmers, and shines, I find it stunning! I wrote that there was no development two years ago. True. But it doesn't need to develop significantly because, like with Iso-E-Super, I perceive it in recurring waves that envelop me, and I like this effect. It is really strong; even though I didn't spray much, it feels like I am surrounded by a wonderful cloud of pure, bright, lovely sandalwood, as if I just came from a Buddhist temple where I became one with the universe through meditation. I am floating! Simply beautiful...

And what about that sour undertone that bothered me back then?
I don't perceive it that way anymore today; could it be that my nose, my perception, and sensitivity have evolved with all the testing? There is something alongside the sandalwood, that's clear - but I can't define it, it actually leans towards a fruity direction that I can't really name, and I even find it beautiful, although I rarely like fruity notes in scents. I am thrilled.

Just for fun (hahaha!), I check Idealo, just to see what it costs... An orange "Sale" blinks at me. Providence? Must be...
My clicking finger hovers over the shopping cart for about an hour while the Swabian in me whines and asks annoying questions. Ultimately, it twitches - not a second too late, because the 55% has long turned back into only 12% while the scent was already in my cart...

Earlier, I received the email that my package is ready for pickup at the parcel shop.
Now it stands before me, in its shiny white cardboard tube made of recycled material; I find the whole presentation very nice, the shape and design successful, even if the cap doesn't quite match the otherwise high-quality impression.
I am happy - and once I have taken a picture and weighed it, I will apply this wonderful scent again and float through the rest of the day in unity with the universe...

*

Addendum:
Upon closer inspection, I must, however, lower my rating of the bottle.
I find the shape and design very successful - unfortunately, the workmanship is less so; the presence of a seam in the glass, for example, shouldn't have been necessary, and the fact that the label is stuck right there emphasizes it unfortunately.
I would have expected a bit more. The scent, of course, is not affected by this, but it is a bit of a shame.

The gentian water immediately transported me back to the crystal-clear mountain lakes of my childhood. My father was an avid mountaineer, and so we went on mountain hikes as children, sleeping in mattress dormitories in mountain huts and even bathing in those icy mountain lakes.
I smell pure, clear mountain air - and finally believe I understand what "ozonic" means.
Maybe I will find "my" Aquatic up in the mountains?
And what does the incense have to do with it, where does this radiant lightness come from?

I am deeply impressed.
By clarity.
By minimalism.
And by the fact that this scent has shown me that the time machine "scent-memory" can also work in reverse - not only when you smell a fragrance from the past but also when a modern scent hits exactly the right synapses.

Can you really smell gentian? I can't judge, the gentian in our garden smells like very little to nothing at all.

In the green fragrance battle, the gentian water is definitely at the forefront - although, in my previous experience, it doesn't really belong there but rather in the "blue" corner.
The bottle is already a dream just from the pictures.
The longevity far exceeds my expectations - the sound of mountain lake splashes continues to rise even after 8-9 hours.

Do I want to wear it?
Should he wear it?
A decant is a must.

How many times have I written that I steer clear of re-releases of the fragrance favorites from my youth because I don't want to ruin my memories?

All talk of yesterday.
Well disguised in a completely new outfit, the re-release of Magie Noire has sneaked onto my wrist in our small-town Müller. Don’t ask me how that happened, because the prayer wheel that is supposed to protect my beloved scents from long ago and the memories associated with them is still spinning reliably.
Actually.

And then this minx sneaks onto my wrist and the bitter-dark scent goes straight to my brain, and I immediately see the old bottle in front of me (which I already found hideous back then), in my parents' bathroom at a time when I wasn't even a teenager yet. Pure time travel. I wasn't old enough for this scent; my mother didn’t even have to tell me that. Maybe that’s what saves the scent for me today - I didn’t wear it myself, unlike the scents that were "hip" when I was a real teenager, like Opium and Poison, with which I then had my own experiences separate from my parents' house.

Did I recognize it again?
It feels more like a solid slap in the face - for being able to forget this scent, for not even being stopped by the name...
I deserved that solid slap in the face because Magie Noire proves to me at least that there are indeed re-releases that manage to evoke images and feelings in my brain that I no longer have in conscious memory.

That was almost a year ago. After the hot summer of 2019, by the end of September, I had taken home a sprayed strip where it then clumsily disappeared into the nirvana between the sofa landscape and the wall and fragranced the living room for a solid 2 days before we did a big clean-up again and fished it out of the usual "black hole" between what felt like thousands of cat toys. It was allowed to continue scenting elsewhere, and indeed, I noted 13 days after the spray date (!!!) that the strip still smelled fantastic.
In my own notes at that time, I was still convincing myself that there are modern, new scents and that I shouldn’t get hung up on it, especially since I really had a lot of exclusive scents to test at that time. But I began to doubt, especially since many "exclusive" scents had actually disappointed me, and I hadn’t found that dark-bitter edge again.

The next skin test was inevitable. And once again, Magie Noire completely swept me away. Now no longer as a memory scent, but rather as an oriental with an edge and that little bit of animalic that makes a scent truly erotic. What all the samples and decants I had tested in the meantime couldn’t fulfill - but maybe I was on the wrong track in my search?

Now it has arrived. A 10ml decant has come to me, and I can hardly keep my hands off it, even though the decant was more of an "add-on."

To turn this purely emotional personal situation description into a somewhat decent comment, I’ll say:
Yes, this is a "bang" of the old school with high complexity, perhaps even a typical example of an oriental chypre (that’s more for chypre fans to judge), the animalic is soft but enticing, everything very well balanced.
Longevity is great, I can't assess the sillage.
I also recommend a low dosage for the current version - it could still spray a bit too much eroticism at the workplace.

Conclusion: Great scent, even in the re-release. Please dose discreetly - otherwise it gets weird to cheap.