M1ndfux

When rapid in ecstasy.

As dramatic as the name sounds - so is the first spray. No friendly greeting, but rather a spiritual thunderclap. Frankincense, resinous balm, mystical coolness - as if one stood in a Gothic cathedral, through whose windows only a dim beam of light penetrates. This opening is almost unattainable - sacred, dark, and awe-inspiring.

In the heart note, a surprising softness breaks through. Fruity nuances of peach and cherry, embedded in a spicy clove facade, emerge like the emotional core of a drama. Sweet but not kitschy. They almost seem like the fragile human moment in an otherwise ethereal and mysterious scent progression.

The base note is an epic finale.
Labdanum, patchouli, vanilla, tonka bean, and fir unite to create a dark-warm accord. Earthy, smoky bittersweet. Almost like a final act in the dim light of an empty stage. It is the encounter of life and transience, of desire and farewell.

A quiet moment in the bathhouse. Steam rises. Still waters, clear air - and a hint of musk on the skin.

This fragrance opens a door to a bright, marble-clad room, filled with a fine mist of essential oils and warm silence.

The composition is pure, silky, and soothing from the very beginning. There is no opulent fruit explosion and no intoxicating floral flood - instead, a gentle, transparent bouquet greets you, immediately reminiscent of freshly washed cotton, white linen, and damp skin after a hot steam bath.

The white musk is clearly at the center. Light floral nuances shimmer softly in the background, almost like the subtle scent of a massage oil on warm stone. A subtle woody note anchors the fragrance without ever feeling heavy. Personally, I enjoy this scent, but smelling like a spa all day long is something you have to like.

On a sultry and rainy autumn night, I opened the heavy gates of this fragrance, which almost reminded me of an old mansion where I sought refuge.

Right from the start, as I opened the door, an extremely sweet haze crept towards me, as if someone had lined the room behind it with liquid amber.

Upon entering, I noticed a counter adorned with dusty rum bottles. These were labeled "Estate Spirits." In the corners of the room, candles flickered. Their dancing light cast shadows like ghostly bartenders.

The stuffy, heavy air was so saturated with the aroma of dark rum over the years that it almost made breathing here intoxicating.

The further I ventured into the room, the deeper the scent became. The very foundation of the house seemed to smell of bourbon-soaked oak wood. Warm and rich. As if the beams were telling stories of decades of aging rum barrels. Sweet molasses and sugarcane clung invisibly to the walls - heavy, dark, and almost of forbidden origin.

Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by the scent of orange peels. Sharp and bitter, as if someone had just torn open a fresh fruit. The citrus notes cut through the sweetness of the rum aroma like a knife through butter. I blinked, but instead of a fresh fruit, I saw only a glass on the counter - half-filled with golden rum that shimmered like liquid gold in the candlelight. Next to the glass was also a bowl of dried raisins. Dark and heavy, they almost smelled of earth. Cloves, nutmeg, allspice, and a hint of cinnamon also entered the space - as if I were no longer alone.
Then there was something else. Something smoky, soft, that lay in the air like a secret pact... a shadow of tobacco even though no tobacco was in sight. Perhaps the spirit of an old drinker who still spent his evenings in these walls?

I closed my eyes and felt a velvety warmth on my skin, as if someone had poured vanilla liqueur directly into my pores. The scent enveloped me. Dressed me like an invisible cloak.

I finished the glass, let the situation wash over me once more, and opened my eyes again. The candles had long since extinguished, and the glass was covered in dust from years. Was it all just a dream? I promptly left the old building and never returned... yet the scent of the house stayed with me and accompanies me to this day.

A few days ago, I visited the perfumery I trust once again. To my surprise, I found that it had completely reorganized. "Summer renovation," I caught wind of on the side.
My actual goal for the day, to test a few fragrances from the Roja Dove house, was thus only half-heartedly fulfilled.

Due to the "summer renovation," an unknown perfumer caught my eye. The bottles were striking - but somehow also not. Subtle yet luxurious. Upon closer inspection, names like Romance in Florence, Visions of Venice, Mornings in Milano, and Portraits of Portofino stood out to me.

Since I had the pleasure of spending one of my most beautiful vacations in Portofino, I sprayed it on. I closed my eyes and let the journey of the scent begin.

Immediately, the images of that vacation flashed through my memories again. The journey alone was beautiful. Down a green slope. Gradually, one could see the horizon of the Mediterranean. We were getting closer. Pastel-colored houses lined up next to each other. A truly stunning sight.

In the evening, after searching for a little midday nap, we sought out a place to initiate a picturesque vacation. We decided on a initially very inconspicuous and small tavern. When we asked for a table, the polite waiter guided us through the very manageable yet inviting premises. Turning a corner, we were greeted with a breathtaking view. A terrace with a direct view of the Ligurian Sea. To the left, a few of the beautiful pastel-colored houses of Palermo, in the middle the moon in the starry sky, beneath it the roaring sea. The whole scene was covered by a leafy canopy of some lemon trees. It truly felt like a movie.

The scent of the sea, the light sillage of the lemons swaying in the breeze, the old wood of the inviting tavern.

I opened my eyes and held the scent in my hand. Everything in this bottle is truly remarkably well executed in terms of fragrance. The sillage here reminds me of the breeze highlighted in my short story, where the lemons sway. It is very, very subtle, but perceptible with a light breeze. Unfortunately, the longevity is not as beautiful as my vacation and the rest of the overall package of the Birkholz scent. After about three hours, I could hardly perceive it anymore.



Still, a big thank you to Philip Birkholz. You have managed to create a scent that transports me back to one of the most beautiful vacations of my life.

The Gritti Mango Aoud contains one of the best mango notes I have ever sniffed.
This is not the typical green "supermarket mango," but an absolutely beautifully fruity flight mango. Connoisseurs will likely recognize this term. Those who are unfamiliar should definitely try the flight mango. You won't want to consume any other. Trust me.

The Mango Aoud truly embodies the red-golden ripeness of a real flight mango. A true fruit explosion. It does slightly veer into the "fruit gummy-like artificial" territory, but this is absolutely not a problem here.

The issue, in my opinion, is the oud. Generally, the idea of adding this resinous/woody note is actually quite smart, as oud is supposed to underline the certain "ripeness" of the fragrance. However, in my opinion, the execution throughout the day reminds me of a mango that has just passed its expiration date. Over time, it becomes a bit musty and bland. The incredibly accurate scent of a mango fades after about 3 hours, leaving behind oud, combined with a slight vanilla note. True mango lovers should probably stick to mango standalones. Fans of refined ouds will find their pleasure here. Overall, I still really like the scent and the perfectly color-matched bottle it comes in.