Kellner

Un homme by Charles Jordan builds the bridge between the 70s and the 80s of the last century. Great silage, great durability. The great resinous-woody power that we always encounter in the 80s fragrances, we also find here. But at the same time, the complexity of the 70s scents is also present. Here we encounter an almost honeyed note at first step, supported by a clearly perceptible hint of anise, but not the pungent tingle as in Lemicka's "Au masculin parfum intense", rather the feeling of the pleasant film of a cough drop in the throat. Then anise recedes, interweaving with the other components. A very characterful structure slowly unfolds. The fragrance combines its individual components so effortlessly that pleasure comes before analysis. I would like to say: my heart rejoices.
The fragrance development progresses gently, remains very dense, almost balsamic, here is a similarity to "Ho Hang" by Balenciaga.
The fragrance goes its own way. Towards the middle, woody notes announce themselves; they remain close to the body, while in the sillage the herbs predominate.
Finally, the leather actually comes forward. I admit, at first I thought this note was due to age, the tipping of the scent. But the scent remains stable, the herbs, the spice are present alongside the leather for a long time. The similarity to "Ho Hang" should be tried again. "Un homme" also remains as intimate as "Ho Hang", does not become as loud as "Azzaro". Despite the incredible, apparent proximity, both fragrances are worlds apart. "Azzaro" for the boys and the young guys who want to attract the attention of the neighborhood. With "Un homme" it's the maturity, the quality, the statement. A fragrance for the office and to the classical concert.

"Azzaro", the lute, it still exists today, it still has its fans; "Un homme" becomes a fairy tale, the older people who still know him tell about it.
Who this fragrance in a reasonably intact form runs across the way, which should access.

We're on the island a lot. Always very much. I felt obliged to buy my first own creation from the small local perfumery in La Oliva derewn, no matter how it smells. We bought the perfume at a big perfumery in Corralejo. The advertising images around it implied an aquatic scent. Sure, what else? During my holidays I sprayed the scent only once. Disappointment, a very simple fresh scent, immediately gone. The bottle landed first in the suitcase and at home finally in the shelf with many others. Then the scent remained unused for the time being. Understandable with all the great fragrances I have to choose from.
Nobody has this scent on their screen here, it doesn't appear in any wish list, there is no statement, no comment, no rating. I'd like to fill that gap. After that, of course, I'm king of this side. Clear so far?
First of all: Use fragrance. The temperatures here are just high summer. An Aquate will do. Especially since the sun shines into my office and the temperature at ten o'clock in the morning scratches the 30 degree mark. So first of all properly dieselled. I know it's a shallow scent. Oh yes, the first sprayer I remember: the spray attachment is great. It produces a wonderful, absolutely fine mist. I'm being wrapped in a mist of refreshment. How wonderful. And the scent is beautiful. That's the first time I've judged it, I didn't even have that in mind anymore. Then back to the desk, answer mails and so on. After all, I have to set off myself, talk to a colleague. I come to her office, the first thing she says: "People judge you well today". I know I smell good every day. Just don't say it. When someone says something, it means something. I'll pass her a printout. She said, "Now everything smells so delicious." Admittedly, there were three four sprayers. But that's that, too. Honestly. Not any more. The Sillage of the smell is thus completely differently noticed, than I suspected it.
Now to the fragrance: little fruity, fresh at the beginning, very fine and light and a little floral. Orange, but not like in "Orange sanguine", lemon also, but not like in "Lemon line". No refreshingly sour, no sweet fruits. Very gentle, like diluted with water, actually sea water, very authentic. If one had indicated "a day at the sea" in the fragrance pyramid, this would have been appropriate. Within an hour the fragrance becomes quite close to the body and dry. In fact, the smell reminds me of the scent of the island when one sits, for example, in one of the open lava bubbles directed to Merr in the bay at the red and white striped lighthouse of El Cotillo. It smells of the sea and dry plant parts and the warm sand at Flag Beach. I'm a little surprised how well the fragrance matches my holiday memories, how well the island is reproduced in this fragrance. Even the artificial colour of the perfume corresponds to the sea in some sections close to the beach. I've got vacation photos that prove that.
The secret is not the fleeting top note with the refreshing effect, but the fine, slightly woody sea scent in the base. A velvety, cinnamony patchouli. is decisively involved in it
For a year, the scent's been on my shelf. And now I get it. White sea spray, turquoise water, on the skin, dried on the beach under Africa's sun.

What the hell's going on here? Yawning emptiness. Nobody but me?!?! No comment, no statement, not even a rating. Nobody has that on their wish list? Not even on the watch list. Even Boris Becker's better off there. Doesn't anyone here want anything to do with this? All in summer retreat? No destroyer on the way? There's no go-there-all-thousand-fold talker? No I-know-with-it-better-than-the-scented pyramid-smell available? No disturbing evaluations ready? No unicorn story? No holiday memories? Is this all hanging on to me now?
All right, I'll get to work. Neither the bourgeois nor the accountant in me can endure yawning emptiness. Yeah, there's a difference. Now, let's get to work!
In red-brown-gold printed cardboard, full of Arabic decorations and decorative characters, the bottle lands, brought by a sweating messenger, people, outside 30 degrees in the shade, on my desk. A red glass bottle with a brown wooden shield, golden plastic lid and wooden appliqué. Yeah, nice, but not spectacular. I'm more into the thick glass junk. Whatever. Sprayed on. First impression: fresh. Hopla. Fresh rose. Hab´ I now not counted on at these temperatures. Fresh rose and something green. And some pepper. You can carry it. Even at 30 degrees. Hey, it's fun, actually. So, quick, fog it up and out to the ice-cream parlour. It's part of the test. I'll get back to you later.
I just went down the stairs and the wood came up. It's okay. The freshness stays. Probably the vetiver. Until the ice cream parlour there is not much left of. Maybe I overdid it a little with the mist. Strange looks from the people around me. Whatever. Strengthens self-confidence.
Back from the ice cream parlour again. Anybody want to know what it was like? That's cool. And self-confidence increased enormously. The scent is leveled on sweaty tobacco leather. Isn't it in the fragrance pyramid? But it is. Well, the sweat, that's more my ingredient now. But the leather and the tobacco, that's right! No matter what's in the pyramid. Then why are they writing Tonka on it? And vanilla? And the oud? It's proper, for an Arab.
Do you have to have the scent now? Nah. Doesn't bother. And he's quite nice. Why did I buy the scent? It was a blind buy. So now it's not me, it's the purchase. I'm all right. I'm all right. Also with leather and without Tonka.
And now on my own behalf: dear Honk, now that I am the king of Parfumo, you can't say anything!

Now I won't tell you a long story about how I found the scent. Was a blind buy after reading Meggi's commentary. "Monodend," it said. Somehow I realized I had to have the scent. I'm not just into scents. I also think the whole drum drum is great: the bottles, the colours, the packaging. I don't want Chichi. It's the coherent whole that appeals to me. The bottle on the photo immediately appealed to me in its minimalist way. It also fits "Monodend".
Tanoke" was already a party for me to unpack. Not a simple cardboard box, but a slipcase, like a valuable book. In the slipcase, embedded in a thick foam block, lay the bottle. Oh, great. The imprint on the slipcase, the imprint on the bottle, the small raven, the bottle itself, everything is so harmonious, thoughtful, concentrated. Great.
That was the most expensive fragrance I ever bought. If a fragrance can be worth so much, I asked myself and fed the hedgehog in my pocket. Can a fragrance be so special that I spend so much money just trying it out? My first niche scent. A brand I had never heard of before.
And then I tried the scent. A sprayer "Tanoke" through the air on my arm. At this moment, all the great fragrances I've known until now have lost their shine at least for this one moment. The last building block fell into place, now everything made even more sense. The name, the raven, the color. In my head played a lost melody from "Vertigo" and I was in the scene where the wonderful Kim Novak and James Stewart were walking in the empty Sequoienwald between the tree columns. That's how it smelled there. Old incense, the air is a little cool. And something blooms that blends in fruitfully. The forest rises, so old, so vast. Whole ages have wandered over him and he has always remained the same, has slowly spread only over centuries. And Tanoke is the oldest of them all, four thousand years old. Sometimes during thunderstorms near the coast, lightning strikes the tall trees. Burning branches fall to the ground. A small forest fire develops. The trees themselves are hardly affected by the flames. But in the blazing heat of the fire, which is often still fanned by the wind from the ocean, cones and needles dropped on the ground burn. The fire then goes out and in the next few years new needles will be accumulated layer by layer. Thus, even years after the fire, the scent of incense is preserved in the cool air under the tall trees.
Tanoke, the oldest of the sequoias, cannot be measured by human standards. The biggest, the heaviest creature on this planet, and the oldest. He already stretched his needles into the sky, there have been no gods yet. Tanoke is archaic.
"Tanoke" is a masterpiece and a milestone. "Tanoke" is the oldest living forest scent.

To get an impression of the very special atmosphere that I associate with "Tanoke", I recommend a milestone in the film music of Bernard Herrmann: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Spx0NthRoVc
If you don't want to smell, at least hear!
I thank Meggi for his comment.