Lamar
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Special
I have had the "Tony Iommi Monkey Special | XerJoff" in my collection since last November. It was a blind purchase due to a very attractive offer from a voucher and my curiosity about this creation from Xerjoff.
High expectations were raised by the descriptions and reviews.
The box and the bottle are typically Xerjoff, simply top-notch.
The booklet with a pick fits the overall concept, but it doesn't need to be overrated. Still nice.
Nothing else did I expect.
But then I had to finally let go of the visual and tactile appearance.
Let the fragrance speak for itself.
And yes, it does!
One of the best openings I have experienced in recent years.
Immediately the rum is there, bam. But somehow in a way that it rocks and doesn't just grog. No rum in tea with lots of sugar. Not clumsy but in a way that takes you along. Awesome intro riff on the lead guitar. Immediately after, the rhythm guitar joins in, a leather note that is woven in so finely for me, like tannins in a good Supertuscan. When Italians do something well, they do it well. Along with the leather comes cinnamon and vanilla, the rum remains but steps back and gives space for amber and musk. Everything becomes a composition.
That was my first impression.
Sometimes, however, you also have to give a fragrance time, wear it more often, initial enthusiasm sometimes fades and becomes relative.
That's why I'm only reviewing it now.
What remains after months from my first impression?
Everything! And on top of that, a great longevity with a very generally suitable drydown for the environment, without losing its identity. However, it cannot be worn all the time and everywhere. After all, the fragrance is not so subtle that everyone would like it to be so present. Even though I consider it unisex, it is rather masculine.
For me, a special.
High expectations were raised by the descriptions and reviews.
The box and the bottle are typically Xerjoff, simply top-notch.
The booklet with a pick fits the overall concept, but it doesn't need to be overrated. Still nice.
Nothing else did I expect.
But then I had to finally let go of the visual and tactile appearance.
Let the fragrance speak for itself.
And yes, it does!
One of the best openings I have experienced in recent years.
Immediately the rum is there, bam. But somehow in a way that it rocks and doesn't just grog. No rum in tea with lots of sugar. Not clumsy but in a way that takes you along. Awesome intro riff on the lead guitar. Immediately after, the rhythm guitar joins in, a leather note that is woven in so finely for me, like tannins in a good Supertuscan. When Italians do something well, they do it well. Along with the leather comes cinnamon and vanilla, the rum remains but steps back and gives space for amber and musk. Everything becomes a composition.
That was my first impression.
Sometimes, however, you also have to give a fragrance time, wear it more often, initial enthusiasm sometimes fades and becomes relative.
That's why I'm only reviewing it now.
What remains after months from my first impression?
Everything! And on top of that, a great longevity with a very generally suitable drydown for the environment, without losing its identity. However, it cannot be worn all the time and everywhere. After all, the fragrance is not so subtle that everyone would like it to be so present. Even though I consider it unisex, it is rather masculine.
For me, a special.
Lamar 3 years ago
Translated · Show original
Golf du Lion, Mistral, 40 knots...
the end of the vacation is approaching, whether Mistral or not, we have to head out, back to Cap d'Agde, leaving Port Leucate. The Golf du Lion lives up to its name once again.
Under reefed mainsail and reefed jib, we are making good speed at 40 degrees to the wind. In gusts, we repeatedly exceed 40 knots, we are pushing hard, yet we are still making 10 knots through the water.
Despite the joy of speed, it is also quite a lot of work and one must be attentive to every gust and steer into the wind. A test for both material and crew.
Spray fills the glaring, hot air. It burns on the skin. This is what the sea smells like in strong winds.
At Fort Brescou, we make a heave and stow the sails. The long harbor entrance always provides an opportunity to calm down again and makes the docking maneuver a relaxed conclusion to a trip.
On the promenade, the "landlubbers" stroll past the bars and cafes. Unaware of what it’s really like out there.
After a quick shower and in fresh shore clothes, we treat ourselves to an afternoon cocktail at the Mayflower, where there is no sign of the 40 knots. However, 40 Knots now accompanies me and seems to be quite a good companion.
No trace of salt to be felt, no harsh gusts, but it fits well and gives me a fresh feeling.
The freshness comes from the slightly spicy and floral notes, with a hint of woodiness coming through, perhaps also a subtle honey. But there is no trace of salt and/or sea. The spicy and woody notes fade over time.
I do not understand at all why Xerjoff presents this fragrance with the name 40 Knots.
40 knots (8-9 Beaufort) correspond to 74.08 km/h, that is quite an exaggeration. 80% of the unaccustomed seafaring population would be hanging over the lifebelt at the railing and would not want to smell anything anymore.
Nonetheless, I find the scent appealing.
In the Mistral at 40 knots at 30 degrees, it would be completely overwhelmed, whether at sea or in the harbor. However, it does well on the wind-sheltered promenade or beach bar, with a well-chilled glass of Minuity in hand.
Under reefed mainsail and reefed jib, we are making good speed at 40 degrees to the wind. In gusts, we repeatedly exceed 40 knots, we are pushing hard, yet we are still making 10 knots through the water.
Despite the joy of speed, it is also quite a lot of work and one must be attentive to every gust and steer into the wind. A test for both material and crew.
Spray fills the glaring, hot air. It burns on the skin. This is what the sea smells like in strong winds.
At Fort Brescou, we make a heave and stow the sails. The long harbor entrance always provides an opportunity to calm down again and makes the docking maneuver a relaxed conclusion to a trip.
On the promenade, the "landlubbers" stroll past the bars and cafes. Unaware of what it’s really like out there.
After a quick shower and in fresh shore clothes, we treat ourselves to an afternoon cocktail at the Mayflower, where there is no sign of the 40 knots. However, 40 Knots now accompanies me and seems to be quite a good companion.
No trace of salt to be felt, no harsh gusts, but it fits well and gives me a fresh feeling.
The freshness comes from the slightly spicy and floral notes, with a hint of woodiness coming through, perhaps also a subtle honey. But there is no trace of salt and/or sea. The spicy and woody notes fade over time.
I do not understand at all why Xerjoff presents this fragrance with the name 40 Knots.
40 knots (8-9 Beaufort) correspond to 74.08 km/h, that is quite an exaggeration. 80% of the unaccustomed seafaring population would be hanging over the lifebelt at the railing and would not want to smell anything anymore.
Nonetheless, I find the scent appealing.
In the Mistral at 40 knots at 30 degrees, it would be completely overwhelmed, whether at sea or in the harbor. However, it does well on the wind-sheltered promenade or beach bar, with a well-chilled glass of Minuity in hand.
