Kobold

First of all: I like these luxury cars and the British way of life in general, as I lived there for a while in my youth. Nevertheless, I am rather skeptical about fragrances launched by car manufacturers, not to mention anything that has 'Miss' in its name. A silly prejudice, I know...

But now to Miss Jaguar, which has really surprised me positively. The little Miss only shows her claws in the green top note, which strongly reminds me of Chanel No. 19. I find it very invigorating and refreshing, especially in the warm season.

Over time, the flowers come to the forefront and evoke associations with a summer flower garden. Memories awaken: afternoons in the beer garden of the 'Spaniards', the scent of roses in the air and a pint of cool cider in hand. Mmh...

At this stage of the fragrance development, I would almost call MJ the twin sister of Arden's Splendor, a scent that I definitely appreciate in summer. However, the green, sparkling cat eyes of the Miss mischievously peek through the floral array, ensuring that MJ never feels flat or generic. Highly recommendable - if one can find it somewhere at a reasonably decent price. Unfortunately, I only have a mini...

Flankers are always a bit of a thing: sometimes interesting, sometimes even better than the big sister (or big brother), but often rather 'improved-worse'. So yesterday, I skeptically tested three of them at the Centaur, and to my surprise, I found them good.
I liked 'Morning Gardens' the best. I had actually expected a cool scent with a few pale little flowers; instead, I was enveloped by a warm, sunny fragrance cloud that strikingly reminded me of Gabriela Sabatini's wonderful 'Ocean Sun'. When a garden finds its expression in the morning here, it is not the cool crispness of still dew-covered rose buds. No, it is already late morning. The sun has warmed the earth and plants, bees are buzzing in search of floral nectar, and a lazy, shimmering calm lies over the enchanted garden. I would also like to linger here in the shade of a fruit tree.
Oops, this comment shouldn't have gotten so 'poetic', lol. Conclusion: Thumbs up. This one has to move in with me.

Long poetic outpourings don't really move me with Luminata, hence the title. However, this is not necessarily meant negatively. I'm just glad that this isn't yet another trillionth clone of LVEB ;-).
Now, onto the scent: Raspberry and green leaves are noticeable to my nose, pear not so much. If anything, it's an unripe, green pear. A light fabric softener note (typical Avon DNA???) is also present, but fortunately, it doesn't feel fuzzy on the tongue. That would have motivated me to a panicked scrubbing action, lol. Over time, these notes recede, and it 'blooms'. Magnolia and peony are there, but I don't smell a powdery iris yet. The discussion of the drydown will have to wait. Luminata and I are not there yet ;-). I just hope that something of the scent remains by then. I find the sillage rather weak and have to bring my nose directly to my sleeve to perceive anything at all. Maybe the performance is better with direct skin contact and movement (as opposed to lounging on the bed, which I'm currently doing with enthusiasm). Hope dies last...
Conclusion: You can't really go wrong with Luminata, whether in the office or on a romantic Sunday stroll for two. However, it doesn't have a great recognizability factor either. For big occasions, it would definitely be too weak for my personal taste. I do give it credit for at least smelling pleasant compared to many of its current competitors...

Actually, there are already some absolutely spot-on comments about Clandestine at this point, so I don't necessarily have to add my two cents. Also, I’m not a fan of floral-aldehydic concoctions (Chanel No.5 = the epitome of horror). Buuut:

What is currently wafting in my elbow is so incredibly amazing that I simply have to express my admiration. First, I catch sweet, ripe fruits (more apricot than plum) in my nose, paired with a wonderful bouquet of flowers that is so perfectly intertwined that I cannot distinguish any single variety except for the rose. After a while, a hint of aldehydes joins in, which is not annoying but gives Clandestine just the right touch of 'perfume'. Classic, but never old-fashioned. The slightly soapy note quickly makes way for a golden honey that involuntarily reminds me of the good old Lagnese commercials and forms a brilliant backdrop for the lush flower garden. Who would be surprised when you think about it more closely? And this delight lasts and lasts and lasts... After about 2 hours, musk, amber, benzoin, and surely also civet (but only very subtly; nothing like a predator cage ;-)) slowly claim their place in the sun. I don’t smell cedar, and patchouli is also quite rare. May it stay that way, lol.

Conclusion: For me, Clandestine is one of the great perfumes of the classic school, infinitely more pleasant to my nose than its distant relatives L'Air du Temps and No.5, not to mention the junk that is sold for good money today. Nothing scratches, bites, becomes sticky sweet, musty, or just plain boring. Clandestine forms a perfect unity despite its diverse facets, remaining true to itself until the end. With a radiant smile that brings sunshine to my heart. Every day anew, even when it’s storming and snowing outside...

Since I find it very unfortunate that there are so few comments on the cheap fragrance waters, I would like to write one here. And right off the bat: Oh So! deserves it. Although the fragrance pyramid is not completely identical, it is a wonderful dupe of Opium. The sillage is not as overwhelming, and the strangely biting-smoky note that its big sister - at least for me - initially exudes is largely absent. In general, I believe both perfumes smell better from a certain distance than with the nose right in the action...

Oh So! remains largely linear for me, although I must admit that I do not wear it on bare skin and it may not fully unfold due to lack of body heat. The scent is dominated by a beautiful warm-spicy note (cinnamon, clove, oppoponax, benzoin), along with a hint of dark rose and of course vanilla. Patchouli doesn't really stand out to me, but I can do without it just fine. I probably had an overkill of it during my good old hippie days. Who from the 60s doesn't remember patchouli incense sticks, patchouli fragrance oil, etc.? What my poor parents must have endured, not to mention the strange attire of their daughter (Walla-Walla dresses in all variations and Jesus sandals) ;-).

But back to the scent: Everything is very balanced and harmonious and lasts easily on fabric or tissue (the stolen test strips unfortunately ran out, lol) until the next day. At just under 5 euros for 100 ml, I really can't complain, I think. The bottle is also not to be underestimated for something in this price range; it is heavy and fits well in the hand without any kitschy frills. For that, it gets 70%, even though the cap unfortunately never closed properly from the start. I definitely give a clear recommendation to buy, especially for the colder season. And one more tip: it smells really delicious on men. I've already supplied my partner with a few bottles. He still doesn't know that it's actually a women's perfume. But men don't have to know everything, right?