Mandelmaus

Paco Rabanne and I didn’t have a good start. My first encounter with One Million was a year ago. My then Norwegian roommate loved to drench himself in this scent; to his defense: he is very young and was always highly praised for his perfume by girls who are even younger and probably just want to be nice.
Soon, I had identified the culprit, that golden block in the bathroom, you must go, immediately! Of course, I didn’t run to him and smugly announce that his favorite scent smells like Satan's stool sample, but I gifted him a new fragrance and emphasized how much I would be happy if he liked it too. A sadly good example of the typical feminine tendency towards refined manipulation, but it worked. The gold bar was banished after a few days and had to lead a lonely existence in the suitcase until departure, well done! :D

Lady Million never really interested me, I tested it but it couldn’t excite me even though the pyramid reads very well.
However, I became curious about Olympea due to the salted vanilla, it just sounds dreamy, plus the lily and cashmere wood, everything aside, I will have to test the Rabanne, no arguments.

The bottle itself is beautiful, a feast for the eyes, made for greedy female hands, elegantly shaped, great color, I already like it a lot.
A hearty spritz applied and off we go: ... Well, sweet, dull, sparkling fresh, indefinably fruity, a bit too cozy, interchangeable and faceless overall. Where is the iconic, divine, wonderfully feminine and radiant presence? It is taking its time, if you want to be the star of a party, then you shouldn’t show up, it gives the most chatter. The scent vaguely reminds me of Sí, LVEB, and relatives. It may find its customer base, but I miss that certain something. The scent starts off sluggishly, and soon the long-awaited vanilla joins the sugary sweet, subtly fresh, and syrupy foundation, taking its time, flowing smoothly into the fragrance like soft ice cream into a crispy cone, it seems a bit thin to me at first, but it brings quite a bit of volume, puffing itself up, a little bigmouth, fully embracing the motto of not dribbling but splashing. It appears really creamy and golden yellow, thick, fluffy, and shiny to me, fine creamy and elegantly woody. Wow, that surprises! A similar woody, milky, spicy, and creamy vanilla as I know from Manifesto Elixir, but less opulent and oriental, the powerful tuberose is missing, the tame and slightly fresh water jasmine provides a good companion for the somewhat arrogant vanilla with diva-like airs, gently slowing her down in her temperamental way, fanning her nonchalantly when Madame is strutting around too wildly.
She also sweats a bit, but it’s not that exhausted sweat that makes her look wilted. But no, not in Olympus! There, one sweats like a god! A fine, sexy shiny godly sweat trail adorns the collarbone and décolleté very advantageously, tempting, one wants to know how it tastes. Slightly sweet and salty, the perfect symbiosis, subtly maritime, fresh, and crisp, the sweat of a demigoddess, but unfortunately, she hasn’t learned the celestial radiance.
The lilies smell delicately green, exquisitely spicy, but unfortunately, they don’t come across as filigree as they should. Too much common toffee folk in the VIP area, the atmosphere is too dominated by caramel, the party gets off to a slow start, more fresh aperitifs would have provided the necessary momentum. However, the decor is heavenly beautiful, soft, hand-friendly wood, slightly oriental accents, unfortunately just a themed party and not the true Olympus.

I find the sillage and longevity surprisingly good, as I expected a weak breeze.
Patience is not unimportant here, at first, I find it quite boring and loveless, but I find the development of the vanilla very interesting, the milky/woody and creamy character appeals to me, nicely paired with the floral and spicy freshness. Unfortunately, it then drifts off a bit aimlessly, remains stagnant and unsteady, a lot of sweet-salty vanilla, the base could be darker and Olympea could use a seductive, black mask, because the scent then fades out softly spicy and green, only a whisper of wood, a hint of flowers, and only fine remnants of vanilla, nice but there is definitely more to it.

Except for sports and in intense heat, the scent can be worn anytime, I don’t find it too naive, a nice gourmand, a bit smooth, it won’t cause a frantic uproar, yet the scent is feminine and sensual, not in a femme fatale manner but still with a wink. I can well imagine that some men might like it, In Woman and Armani Code Ultimate are often highly praised, Olympea is of the same ilk. Towards the end, I find it a bit uninspired and piercing, but I don’t find it unpleasant.

Cleverly done, the "awaken the goddess in you" line, great bottle and interesting pyramid. The campaign itself is a dream, the model is also well chosen.
But when a woman has already found her inner goddess and knows how to handle her, it doesn’t matter at all whether the scent is called Olympea, the marketing department has taken on the wrong woman.

Fragrances by Lolita Lempicka have fascinated me for over ten years. I love the enchanted and fairy-tale design of the playful and cute bottles. Moreover, they are mostly gourmand, claiming their own spicy Lempicka note that one somehow has to like.
I immediately liked Le Premier Parfum very much because of its fine licorice note, Forbidden Flower for its prudish-floral, incredibly delicious sweetness. L could not be missing, a feast for gourmand lovers, rich cinnamon vanilla at its finest.

Fleur de Corail is presented online as the sister of L, but for me, aside from the beautiful bottle, they are completely different in character.

I ordered it blindly; at that time, I couldn't really imagine Frangipani, which is already a good year ago.
It is said to be exotic, amber, musk, and driftwood in the base sound extremely tempting, I want it.
Just the bottle alone makes my shi-shi-loving heart rejoice, viewed from above it resembles a blue heart made of milky glass, perhaps the heart of the ocean? It is beautifully adorned with its delicate pendants, maritime in its overall appearance. It feels very summery and awakens a longing for white beaches, azure blue, mysterious lagoons populated by breathtakingly beautiful mermaids, how I loved them in Disney's Peter Pan or in Ariel. I have a penchant for the fantastic and fairy tales; it's like a kind of escape from the rational world, where I like to dive in.

The opening is already a promise of splashing spray and summery, sun-drenched days. Fresh, bright, and crisp-fruity, extraordinarily salty, airy, exotic, a hint of vastness and carefree, free and floating, especially in such stressful times as in this terrible acceleration society, we are already desperately yearning for simple, uncomplicated, and immediately accessible things.
There, the coquettish, pearlescent, shimmering, glowing nymph takes us lightly by the hand and effortlessly dives into her enchanting, different world with her ward in tow. Strange, intoxicatingly fragrant, and radiant yellow flowers spread their intoxicating aroma more subtly than with much fuss, a soft and very feminine fullness of silky blooms, warming and cuddly, constantly this interesting twist of sweet and salty, crisp-aquatic, spiced up with mild, citrus notes, nothing sour or piercing, sunny and very friendly, cheerful, fluffy-fluffy-powdery through warm and floral frothy musk, oriental-tinged by sweet and supple amber as I know it from innocent.
I perceive the driftwood as a rugged and slightly brittle woody note, dry and slightly fragile, bleached very light by a mercilessly sizzling tropical sun.

I like the scent very much; it has something soothing and warming, hypnotic, airy, salty-maritime-aquatic, floral-exotic sweet, I could swear that there is also neroli in it.
The scent sways invitingly and carefree in a summer breeze; I can well imagine that a siren's hair smells like this, a glowing flower behind the ear, the often-copied but completely natural beach look from the seawater, an extra dose of siren pheromones (musk + amber) and, of course, extremely advantageously played by a stiff, salty sea breeze.

A beautiful vacation and fair-weather scent, for fans of Seathalasso or Light Clouds, it's a pity that the scent has since been discontinued.
So far, I have enjoyed wearing it for work, exercising, or even partying. With its unusual nature, it creates delighted uproar upon closer sniffing; it is indeed a charming little maverick.
Unfortunately, it doesn't quite reach the 100 percent; more sillage would be needed, perhaps more dark facets in the base as an exciting counterpoint, as it claims an innocent, sweet, and girlish sensuality, somewhat distant and unattainable.

The smile of the siren is warm, radiant, and inviting, an erotic promise upon brief observation; one would never find oneself in her wet, shiny, slender arms, for she glides far too quickly with great grace into mysterious, midnight-blue nymph depths that a mortal could never leave alive.

Since I fell in love with In Woman and absolutely cannot do without it anymore, I took a closer look at the La Rive range.
Fortunately, I managed to snag it at absolute bargain prices, so a failed purchase is easy to bear. Or the scent blindly goes into the basket without much regret, just like here. I had only read that it is supposedly an LVEB dupe.
I had to test LVEB right when it was launched; it wasn't bad, but also not groundbreaking, I'd rather praise my Angel flankers. Moreover, it was somewhat spoiled for me by the many negative comments, so I wasn't very eager to get to know it better.

But I am also happy to be enlightened by others; after all, a thinking person changes their mind. So I took it home, there were no testers, but I have high hopes for Queen of Life (rarely silly, the name), maybe it can measure up to In Woman.

I already really like the bottle; it feels solid in the hand and reminds me a bit of the Eternity line. The spray mist is fine; I've experienced worse, as sometimes they seem to save on that in the high-priced segment.

At first, the blackcurrant appears, this time on its sweet side, with no sour juice to be noticed. The entry is also fresh, watery-fruity, drinkable, aromatic; one might think that one has just crushed red currants between their fingertips. No synthetics, nothing scratches unpleasantly or bites.
Right from the start, they are dusted with a fine layer of powdered sugar; it reminds me a bit of the charm of La Perla. The fruity odor is very feminine, delicate, and lovely. If the pear weren't listed, I would never have noticed it; there's something slightly core-fruity that could be identified as pear, but only with a lot of imagination.
The scent is sweet, but not sticky or piercing, rather whispering and "mouthwatering," it whets the appetite and lifts the mood.

Soon, the blackcurrant is wrapped in a heavy, fluffy, white bathrobe made of thick terry cloth, and then it gets powdered like there's no tomorrow; I initially experienced this phase as borderline and exhausting.
I was at war with the iris; I found a cool, powdery, and silver-tinged bloom simply creepy. So distant and arrogant, ice-cold and royal-aristocratic, the ideal arch-enemy was born.
It was The Beat by Burberry that hit me quite unprepared back then; I felt really nauseous and bad. Looking back now, I have to smile because the iris has since become one of my favorites.
And here, it fits wonderfully into the scent profile, creating an immense powder cloud in beige, rose, lilac, white, and gray (gray is not boring, but the new black) in the most beautiful makeup manner, powder as it smells after coming into contact with the skin, slightly dusty, warm, very feminine, somehow also intimate, a very inspiring scent. (Copyright Peanut)
A slight vintage touch, classic, but I have liked that since Citizen Queen; it has something incredibly feminine, like the soft, powdery scent of a makeup bag or a well-used lipstick, loose powder that gets distributed during application in the bathroom, almost ritualistically.

The orange blossom together with the iris is a strong full-female duo, right on the mark, only for hardcore flower lovers, puffed up by sweet-smelling jasmine; for me, it's an elite trio, sitting on the edge of the bed, inhaling the scent intensely, yes, that's how I want to smell!
I couldn't wait to test it until the next morning, even though I risked a sleepless night if it turned out to be a stinker.
Fortunately, it was not at all; it holds me extremely gallantly captive, gently tearing me apart, a milky-soft, fluffy powder dream, playful, elegant, ladylike, all the while, powdered sugar blackcurrants roll through the shimmering powder.
A hint of ground almonds and loose-fluffy vanilla adds a meltingly delicate gourmand sweetness, while the hard, beautiful iris is not robbed of its Madonna-like ruthlessness.
In fact, the iris perfectly symbolizes the essence of a woman: she has edges and corners, but also her curves. She can purr and caress us, while also being quite hard and determined in setting boundaries, with the orange blossom in the background, casually crossing her legs, her head tilted back in a languid manner, a delicate cigarette holder between her fingers, slow, lazy breaths, an amused and clever gaze that sparkles beneath black turbo lashes; she doesn't have to prove to anyone that she is a woman of the world.

But to ensure it doesn't get too erotic, dark, slightly earthy patchouli appears, warning with an upraised finger, you two need to be kept in check; jasmine just sweetly and naively hums along, take a cue from me, ladies!

In the base, the finest chocolate, of course also powdered, exudes a delicate vanilla aroma, subtly oriental, the strong sillage now very muted, a faint hint of fruit creeping in the background, only a few scattered petals remain, the presence of the iris is strongest to confirm.

So, what about Aunt Gertrude? I was allowed to borrow her from my dear colleague, who isn't really into the scent. She belongs more to the Light Blue and Mon Jasmin noir le eau exquise faction, so fresh and airy.
She immediately thought of makeup, but rather of Aunt Gertrude, a very well-groomed, elderly lady, with long, but gray and terribly thin hair, piled up into a beehive, with a thousand hair clips and barrettes, and those tortoiseshell combs that I somehow also find dreadful.
Of course, the whole procedure took place with hairstyling at a makeup table with a matching chair, with a silver brush that looks like it could groom a horse, and of course, the inevitable, design-matching hand mirror, as is proper.
I added the chocolate cravings because the powder gets lost in delicious milk chocolate filled with vanilla-almond cream. Besides, it would make Aunt Gertrude seem more human to me; otherwise, she must be quite a dry and joyless person. That wouldn't suit my dear colleague at all.

For me, the scent is definitely a bullseye in my powder- and makeup-loving heart. It also fits well with my bathroom, a well-stocked daughter branch of dm, making girls squeal and men despair; the latter always ask me incredulously if I use it all by myself or where I have hidden the two other women.
From fruity-delicious, fresh-warm, to opulent-floral, powdery-voluminous, cheeky-spicy, feminine-velvety to the cozy-fluffy and minimally oriental base, a great scent for iris and gourmand lovers.
Perfect for spring with its intoxicating nature, probably too heavy in summer, then wistfully gentle in autumn and surely glamorous gourmand in winter.
Worthy of a queen? Find out for yourself ;)

The bottle has been in my collection for almost a year now. A blind purchase, as the comments read simply excellent. There is talk of green vanilla, fresh and woody. I had never encountered anything like it before; vanilla is definitely one of my favorites. I want to know it in all its facets.

The scent is supposed to capture the hot and exotic aromas of Madagascar, more specifically the evening mood. Unfortunately, it is a limited special edition that can only be purchased at airports or ferry boats. Another reason to acquire a bottle.

I would never think to describe the scent as "hot"; rather the opposite. There is definitely an exotic quality, more on that later. I associate it more with cool, unspoiled morning air, oxygen-laden to the finest degree, one wants to inhale deeply to soak up the energy of the new day.

The opening is more than unusual, completely new to me until now. A mild, cool, slightly green cream greets me, aquatic and fresh, almost wet, dew-soaked. At the same time, a soft banana note appears; where does that come from?
A hint of fresh lacquer, hard to describe, but by no means unpleasant, subtly spicy, faintly reminiscent of warm skin. Although only a few notes are listed, the scent has many faces. Delicately floral, watery, powdery cool, gently melting, very harmonious. The nuances skillfully intertwine, allowing one or another to take the lead at times, soon merging again into a floating, ethereal, gossamer unity. Innocent and filled with light.

The vanilla presents itself in a very naked form, not refined or gilded, dusted with sparkling almond powder or similar.
It has very little of the gourmand, but I like this milky, pastel yellow, gossamer vanilla. The cedar as a partner is very advantageous, gripping, cool-woody, providing a delicate, sun-bleached framework of supple wood.
A breathtakingly beautiful symbiosis of cool and warm. It is not the kind of warmth you feel directly on a sunny day, the kind that tickles and burns on the skin.
I have long searched for a comparison: after warming your hands on a freshly brewed cup of coffee and placing your now warm palms on your cheeks, the gentle, indirect warmth that seems to immediately reach the body's interior.
That is exactly how the scent feels. It envelops you in a gossamer cocoon of gentle warmth and light; it is a very thin fabric, silky soft and cooling, unable to hold back the cold and wind of the refreshing morning, yet it offers space and freedom, feeling feather-light and floating.

The minimally aquatic, watercolor-like, floral freshness fades a bit in the base. There, the scent feels a bit denser, still tempting, sweetness only shows itself very restrained, almost just a hint of fine powdered sugar, ultra-sparingly sprinkled in small amounts.
It is really not easy to grasp; light-footed, gracefully, the genderless light figure slips through my fingers time and again, brushing against me painfully softly with its silky-cool garment, leaving a powdery, softly spicy, green-vanilla cloud, the air around it filled with a cool humidity. It is similar to standing next to a waterfall, with a warm wind carrying scattered, stray water droplets that settle pleasantly and gleamingly on the warmed skin.

It provides comfort, peace, and harmony; one would like to sink into its friendly embrace, a touch that demands nothing but gives.
It seems to be a specialty of Kenzo; I feel just as peaceful when I wear Indian Holi.
Not a scent that causes a stir; it is a flattering, delicate wallflower, velvety, its voice is calm but determined.
I particularly enjoy wearing it in spring; it fits wonderfully with windy days, the heavy April showers, the first rays of sunshine, the transitional mood, the new that lurks in the fresh air.
A top-notch summer vanilla; in warmth, it becomes curvy and more gourmand, yet still fresh and creamy, more yogurt than cream.
I have worn it on many occasions, and it elicits wonder from those I let close to me. It is described as unusual and very delicious; the sillage is very restrained, but that also fits the rather shy yet elegant overall impression.
Cold seems to make it freeze; the movements are more laborious than playfully light.

Online, it is declared unisex, but I find it clearly feminine, more of a shy doe than a man-eater. The longevity is surprisingly good for such a delicate-exotic lightweight. Lotus seems to play a significant role in the harmonious character, combined with vanilla, which is known to have a calming effect, a dream pair. It blends fabulously with one's own skin scent, no unnatural film that clogs the skin.

As much as I am enthusiastic, I often cannot wear it. So much purity, peace, and harmony somehow overwhelms me. It appears clean and smooth, not sterile, but the salt in the soup is missing; I miss a charming flaw, a slightly morbid character trait, a moral dilemma can unfortunately be very attractive.
But when I crave it, I wear it with great joy and enjoy the unusual, slightly immature, spring-fresh vanilla.

A hidden gem for vanilla lovers who also enjoy it cool-woody-spicy, subtly powdery, and airy-watery-East Asian-floral.
A gourmet lightweight gourmand from Madagascar, unique in its kind, nothing resembles it; you can confidently forget the comparison with Vanilla Noir.

Hooked by the many hints that In Woman is a good dupe for Armani Si, I set out on a search and found it at Müller. I was curious who knows my comment about Si and Si Intense and understands my dilemma.
I am by no means averse to Si, but I only like it on other women or in its own sillage. When I wear it myself, I find it terribly intense, brutally sweet, and scratchingly synthetic. However, when I smell it on the street, I find myself almost drooling as I follow the wearer, often noticing that it’s women with Eastern European looks/heritage, but maybe that’s just a peculiar coincidence.

In any case, I had to write off Si, but I didn’t want to, there must be a substitute drug! In the forum, I finally came across the tip that In Woman is supposed to smell strikingly similar. Hopeful, I found it and was already excited to test it.
The price is ridiculous, 7 euros for the 90 ml bottle, can that be anything? A few years ago, I might have just smiled wearily, thinking there’s no way one can wear something so “cheap.” Luckily, I have had some positive experiences with affordable fragrances, so I am willing to be open-minded.

So I quickly grabbed the bottle and went for it: Well, not bad, sweet indeed, piercing, phew, yes, that’s Si, just how I don’t like it... lavishly sweet stuff, decorated and glazed with everything that tastes good, and one could theoretically slap it right onto the hips. Too bad, once again a prime example of faux desire, better forget it quickly!

I was somewhat disappointed, still lingering around Müller, hoping for an epoch-making development of the highly praised dupe. Good things, as they say, come to those who can wait, and my patience was indeed rewarded.

Initially still drenched in honey-like blackcurrant juice, which is extremely thick, soon reveals an elegant and delicately melting sweetness, very smooth and very sexy, golden and buzzing, whispering, sighing one could say. There’s zero synthetics, I am more than impressed.
The fragrance feels really high-quality to me, warm and inviting, yet luscious and dominant, a hot promise of long enjoyment, subtly fresh, smooth, almost polished, the scent doesn’t rush past the wearer like Si, but casually grabs its victim by the fallen jaw and effortlessly drags it along, with a self-evident sexiness that seems almost arrogant and playfully light, definitely not cheap or trashy.
The rose, as known in Si style, is coated with sparkling sugar crystals, but it doesn’t come off as kitschy or prick unpleasantly.
Creamy, golden-yellow vanilla without added sugar, beautifully flowing and soothing, slightly smoky and sultry, just vanilla as I appreciate and find very stimulating.
Patchouli shows its tame and purring side, but is no less dangerous. It melts lazily away, reminiscent of delicate noisette pralines, sweetly melting and absolutely addictive. The kind of praline you want to let dissolve in your mouth for what feels like an eternity.
The woody accords give the incredibly delicious gourmand an elegant frame, adding a certain maturity and casting a slight shadow over the main players vanilla and patchouli, but that only invites closer observation and doesn’t censor the sensual, unrestrained frolicking.
Ambroxan gives the fragrance rich volume, an immense sillage, and lays a slightly crisp layer around the golden, very feminine, powdery, discreetly spicy praline cream. It’s simply incredible how harmoniously, calmly, elegantly, and nobly the scent shifts and shimmers, while simultaneously being so passionate, euphoric, and fervent, some designer or big label could take a page from this.

It must have been quite amusing for the observer: first, I spray the fragrance on, with a disgusted expression, a crude mix of disgust, anger, and disappointment, after a short time, astonished wonder and wide eyes, an incredulous and surprised grin, which soon turns into a blissful and ecstatic beaming, pure rapture, as if on remote control, with a crazy sparkle in her eyes, the woman runs back to the shelf, takes the packaging in hand, stares incredulously at the price, shakes her head in amusement, and visibly happy heads to the checkout.
Of course, I couldn’t resist the nasty impulse to hold my wrist under the nose of the saleswoman and ask which fragrance it is.
“Si” was the prompt answer, and when I enlightened her, she looked quite shocked as well. What’s it called? Where is it? I have to remember this!
I almost felt bad when I paid, so cheekily copied and then even better than the original, the saleswoman and I were already giggling over my great find.
On the way home, I had to keep sniffing, I liked it more and more, I was already afraid it would suddenly collapse and lose its magic. Luckily, one can be unconcerned about that, In Woman is no fake and convinces with lasting power and smooth transitions, it runs off smoothly and leaves a sweet scent trail garnished with woody-oriental hints even after many hours.

I don’t find the bottle particularly exciting, but I overlook that due to the performance. Longevity and sillage surprisingly enduring, La Rive must definitely be remembered in the low-price segment.

So far, there has already been quite a bit of praise, and it is often considered to have a wicked twin. Especially men seem to have fallen for the slightly sticky trap (Don’t worry, it’s the finest caramel with chocolate glaze in the dry down).
It’s almost sweet when a group of young men stands in Müller and the bottle is being sniffed intensely. Comments like “Dude, it smells killer, I swear!” are thrown around.
Or another male voice is quoted, saying that the secretary stirs up the whole workshop with it, everyone at the lathe has to measure again.

For me, a lovely all-rounder, suitable for all times of day and night, seasons, and occasions. In freezing cold weather, it warms pleasantly, and in the warm, spring-like temperatures, it skillfully exudes its cheerful and temperamental nature, stylishly enchanting and flirtatious.

A fragrance for women who love being women, with all the frills like makeup, dressing chic, meeting girls, throwing lavish parties, and everything that goes with it. I feel very comfortable with the floral, crispy pastry of vanilla-blackcurrant mousse, caramel-chocolate-patchouli-brownie gourmand bomb, which wraps around the finger less bombastically but more seductively from the shadows.

I am very glad to have finally found “my” Si, without the candy overload and annoying synthetic note. I gladly recommend the fragrance and will definitely have to get a backup.

The devil is a squirrel, or rather an unspectacular bottle, also insulted as a “bending stock,” but this one is a crown jewel among drugstore fragrances at bargain prices, I swear!