Mandelmaus

So far, the Bond fragrances have provided quite a bit of amusement. There are some very funny critiques to be found here, and of course, no great expectations accompany the entire line. It seems to be all about excessively milking the cash cow, what else could it be.
I was recently drawn to the women's fragrance by the actually appealing campaign. And the price made me skeptical, quite cheeky. Within a few weeks, it has already drastically dropped, which is not surprising.

The fragrance pyramid reads quite interestingly, especially the rose milk and black vanilla are enticing. It sounds like a killer combo when you add gardenia and jasmine; there could be some potential there. I also really like the bottle, shiny black, extravagant shape, it feels nice in the hand, and the spray head is pleasantly easy to press, spraying finely as well.

Unfortunately, that was already the positive part of my comment; anyone who really likes the fragrance or is determined to buy it may forgive me. And it’s best not to continue reading.

The opening is marked by a decent blast of alcohol, then moderately fresh, thinly fruity, and, in my opinion, careless.
At this point, it’s not really bad or unpleasant, just banal and unremarkable. No femme fatale in sight, nothing with intoxicating sensuality or even heart palpitations.
The rose milk soon reveals itself, in the form of artificial hand soap with a plastic-like rose aroma. And not even fresh and light, or clean like laundry detergent, but flat, musty, and compact. Uff, that’s no fun; the scent clings to the skin and wafts ominously. It feels stale and dull to me, and it reminds me of another fragrance, but unfortunately, I can’t quite recall which one it could be. There’s also a strange vanilla mixing in the background. (I vaguely remember that it was a fragrance by Katy Perry, where I also noticed a stale vanilla muffin)

If you were to rub the fragrance between your fingertips and pull them apart, I wouldn’t be surprised if it would stretch like hot glue. The sillage is bombastic at the heart. My poor girlfriend is already complaining heavily; a passenger can be quite critical when the driver is bombarded with such scent bombs.
Gardenia and jasmine form a strong, voluminous duo, unfortunately not flattering, but very intrusive and penetrating, underlined by cookie-like, fibrous vanilla, slathered with blackberry syrup, powerfully chemical; I can’t imagine that this is very appealing to the strong sex.
This slightly milky and creamy component, which flashes up now and then throughout, I find beautiful and extremely feminine. Unfortunately, it only lasts for fleeting seconds; soon, the airy interlude is ruthlessly flattened by the monstrous flowers. Pepper at least adds an interesting sharpness, which could be attractive in combination with vanilla; unfortunately, it leans too little towards gourmand and feels very underdeveloped and one-dimensional to me.
The cedarwood gives the fragrance a soft, powdery note, minimally woody, somewhat tactile, but there could be more extracted from it as well. Musk serves mainly as a fixative and only weakly nudges the fragrance towards "seductive."

Overall, the fragrance feels chaotic, uneven, and unbalanced to me. There is a progression, but nothing here is smooth or desirable. No tension builds up; the fragrance does not cloud the senses at all, and hot daydreams do not want to set in. No seduction here, rather a snooze-inducing scent narcosis.
However, the volume has been cranked up significantly; the sillage is enveloping and fills the room, with a longevity of about eight hours, and you don’t have to spray excessively. It’s a shame; I now quite like roses, and I don’t mind any soapiness, but here the martini is brutally shaken into a frothy mess. One almost gets a soapy taste on the tongue.
The flowers would also shine more beautifully if it weren’t for this floury vanilla being the counterpoint; the beloved cedarwood and the otherwise fluffy musk can’t do much about it.

The most important thing about a perfume or a dress should always be the woman wearing it. And both should always be a tribute to the wearer, which I cannot say here with a clear conscience. I find it quite cheeky what has been concocted and sold at a horrendous price, for which target group, actually?
For very young girls, it’s somehow too heavy, dull, and musty; it does come across as subtly oriental, but it lacks any cheeky, bouncy, erotic, and feminine qualities. For women in their mid-twenties, it’s also not really suitable; I miss any twist, and the older and more experienced one gets, the more spoiled one becomes. A riddle; in this direction, the fragrance is indeed confusing, but unfortunately, the speed of the eternally thumping inner engine does not increase.

Uninspired and off-topic, or my skin chemistry just wants to play tricks on me; in any case, I’m not warming up to the fragrance, and to be honest, I’m creeped out by the thought of wearing it again.
If I have offended or hurt anyone, I apologize. Perception is, after all, subjective.

You definitely earn the license to kill while wearing it; it knocks out the strongest guy ;)

Exactly one year ago, I became acquainted with Oriens. The time when every hour in the sun is celebrated, the seats in front of cafes fill up at record speed, I encounter many smiling faces on my way to work in the morning, and birdsong heralds the day - spring has its own magic that no one can really escape. This lively, sparkling, and warm impression is wonderfully reflected in Oriens.

A heartfelt thank you to Confusion for the nice Soukdeal. Thanks to Aura's amusing comment, I was quite intrigued and had to have Oriens move in with me immediately, of course blindly, as I love surprises.
Unfortunately, my bottle is not as beautiful as the one pictured above. The silver leaves are missing, but it's still a sight to behold. The rounded bottle fits smoothly in the hand, and when held against the light and turned, it sparkles in shades of rose, red, and gold. It's pretty to look at and makes me curious about the contents.

The first seconds are strongly characterized by sour and sparkling blackcurrant; luckily, I enjoy the sourness of that berry, while at the same time a sweet and lovely freshness resonates, slightly watery, yet very juicy and full-bodied. This is the moment when I could immediately take the bottle and drink it in one gulp. Damn, is that delicious!
It's sweet, but in a pleasant and invigorating way, nothing is numbing, no diabetic coma is looming. The scent clings sweetly and softly, no coarse crystal sugar or sticky syrup.
Especially in winter, I found the top note incredibly stimulating; now in spring, the opening fits perfectly with the clear and sunny morning. Hiss and Aaahh - The day can begin!

The fruity-sparkling start slightly slows down in the heart note, yielding to delicate, sunny, velvety floral notes.
Leading the way is sensual jasmine, underlined by rather shyly blinking raspberries. To my delight, lily of the valley is hardly to be found. I don't know exactly how a water flower smells, but it is probably responsible for the elegant and subtle freshness.
At this point, I like the scent the most. A play of girlish and sensual, cheeky and elegant, fresh and warm.
At the same time sparkling but also calm and ladylike. It beautifully captures the first rays of sunshine and the rising mood, yet in the background, there is a slightly cool and fresh note, the last echoes of winter, so to speak.
It radiates a noble calm without being pretentious. Majestic and self-contained like a glider in the azure sky, viewed by a lake, the first ice in hand, sunglasses dug out again, yet one is still grateful for the warming jacket.

The more the scent approaches its end, the more it gains warmth and yes, also sex appeal. Soft vanilla emerges through the berry web, accompanied by golden amber, fine milk chocolate praline, slightly chocolatey patchouli, and creamy woods. It adapts perfectly to the weather conditions. In the afternoon, still pleasantly warm, without sunshine, the wind quickly becomes unpleasant, and as soon as it gets dark, the temperatures unfortunately still feel icy.
This is exactly where Oriens comes in with its feminine and delicately balanced gourmand notes. They subtly warm and create a cozy atmosphere. A few berries for snacking are also still left over; what more could a woman want?

Oriens is a charming overall package, not the ultimate showstopper, but very lovable and cuddly. It fits every season and occasion; the sillage is not intrusive, yet it doesn't hide either. With eight hours, the longevity is not to be underestimated. I don't know if it's due to the scent itself or my silly constant grin whenever the sun shows up and the temperatures rise. In any case, the scent has an immensely strong attraction for the "strong" sex. I noticed the same with Coco Mademoiselle.
Maybe it's the ambivalent up and down of girlish-sweet-fresh and warm-sensual-subtly oriental that throws some men off track. But that's irrelevant, as the scent puts me in a good mood, and I feel very comfortable with it.

Oriens is like a sparkling Hugo that you enjoy alone with sunglasses, a top, and winter boots in the afternoon sun on your home balcony. Or as long as you can manage to be alone...

I am a Muglerette through and through. It all started with Angel, Alien, various limited editions, but somehow I only recently thought to test the male counterpart.
I think it’s well known that the scent either comes off extremely well or totally bananas. I don’t want to go on and on about the fragrance because some have already done a great job of that here.

I quite like the presentation. So far, I’ve only held the rubberized bottle, which has something to it, a bit bizarre, somewhat fetishistic but stylish.

I don’t find the top note that bad. No feces, urine, or whatever. There’s a somewhat herbal-minty aspect that unexpectedly flickers throughout the entire experience.
Right in the heart, I hardly notice a difference from the women’s fragrance. Gourmand as it should be. Full-bodied, passionate, sweet, and intoxicating. It clings, but it doesn’t annoy. It’s alluring, hotly whispering, rough, caressing, and exudes an immense pull.
Now and then, I doubt, should a man smell like this? Does he even want to? Is he allowed to? Because about thirty minutes after application, it smells exactly like Angel liqueur de parfum creation 2013. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it. I’ve already found a worthy successor when the treasure runs out.

To my delight, the scent does change after all. I even think I smell leather, roughened and quite grippy, a lot of patchouli, darker and spicier honey as I know it from Back to Black. Dark and strong coffee, almost a viscous syrup, the nectar of all coffee machines, so to speak.
Yes, it is both glaring and dark at the same time. A force of nature. It reminds me of slowly cooling lava flows. Hard and dark on the surface, rough and repulsive. At the base, hellishly hot and consuming, radiant, melting. It flows lazily with the sure knowledge that everything will be burned and flattened by it anyway. There’s no hurry because there’s no competition.

Although a lot is happening, nothing stands out unpleasantly. Masterfully combined, what gourmand lovers appreciate. Those who prefer classic citrus nuances might turn their noses away in disgust, but I like the extroverted salon lion. It must be really interesting to wear the scent as a couple, both wearing the corresponding variant. I wouldn’t know where I stop smelling and the other begins. The similarity is striking. I only find A*Men in the dry down dirty, smoky, somewhat leathery, less chocolatey, very coffee-heavy. I perceive the amber-caramel-honey-vanilla-patchouli foundation as the same. Jasmine doesn’t really seem to emerge on me; nothing floral pushes to the forefront at all. It’s more of a rum-soaked, liqueur-like, fruity-floral sweetness like you’d find in pipe tobacco or a good cognac.

Sillage and longevity are typical for Mugler, so careful spraying is recommended. Maximum three sprays for clubbing, one spray in the air during the day and let the devil’s brew rain down on you. That’s more than enough. It’s more of a scent for cold temperatures, best suited for hours spent with as little or no clothing as possible. Men! Wear the scent :D
And also women. At any age, it annoys me that I didn’t discover it sooner.

It took a little while; I had to test it several times and was wavering. Not for everyone. You have to be a little crazy to love it.
As the saying goes: the highest form of happiness is a life with a certain degree of madness.

I came across this fragrance thanks to dear Veri, a heartfelt thank you to you.
Some comments here are very interesting to read. Above all, the berry fruit note paired with woods sounds incredibly tempting. Whether it is now more sensual, seductive, or whatever than the original version is quite irrelevant to me; in my opinion, you can't really generalize that anyway.
Sometimes I personally find squeaky clean totally attractive, and then again something totally spicy and subtly animalistic. Depending on the taste, and that ultimately makes it so exciting every time.

The beautiful bottle has been in my collection for about a year and a half and reminds me of a good change in my life. I like to wear it in the evenings for myself, and I am constantly fascinated by this ultra-dark violet, dripping, resinous berry note. Where does it come from?

The opening buzzes, hisses, and tingles. It even squeaks a bit, as smooth and clean as it is. It has a slightly synthetic-soapy feel, but that doesn’t bother me.
Fresh bergamot in the buzzing intro, but even here a dark, floral veil announces itself. Shimmering, rich shades of violet from lilac to black violet in a gentle and velvety gradient. Nevertheless, the fragrance hits hard and rises to the head like delicious champagne, which is supposed to be refreshing, but ultimately turns the mood state upside down.

The juicy and sinful berry note doesn't take long to appear. Like thick, dark, and intoxicating syrup, it mercilessly pours into the sparkling start of the perfume, taking away its initial freshness and lightness. Like the finest port wine, ink-black and full-bodied, the whispering sweetness penetrates into the brain folds until the synapses clap.
At first, the tart fruity and sweet-fresh berry aromas remind me strongly of Gucci Eau de Parfum II, but only for a moment, because with Gucci it remains ethereal-delicious and fragile.
Very different is the purple elixir. It must be the tuberose that compacts and piles up the fragrance so powerfully, similar to the imposing anvil clouds just before a heavy summer thunderstorm.
It’s quite possible that this rich and dense note can trigger headaches. I like that; I also enjoy something narcotic from time to time.
This dark and "evening" berry in a heavy floral garment also reminds me of dark wine gummy, smells a bit edible and synthetic, but somehow also totally interesting and attractive. Like a trail that can always be sensed, and one must absolutely find the source of the pleasant scent.

As the fragrance develops, it seems to move more harmoniously. Breathing and heartbeat have somewhat normalized again, the pupils are still dilated, because now the fragrance promises a melting and cuddly softness that carries a serious addiction potential.
Still dark violet and berry-juicy, at the same time smooth-powdery and sweet, of a tough and feminine kind, dark patchouli and spicy vetiver break through the shimmering, purple water surface again and again, comparable to shadowy beings, flexible and powerful.
These surprising interruptions bring a slightly ominous tension to the scene and ensure that the fragrance is propelled forward and does not stagnate boringly.
Thus, the fragrance oscillates sluggishly at times, then again seductively captivating between tart fruity, voluminous-sweet, brittle woody, smooth powdery, confusingly smoky, noisy resinous, cooing smooth, and enchanting oriental.
Not easy to grasp, but that’s exactly what I find so appealing.

I wear the fragrance most in autumn and winter, rather in the evenings for cuddling on the sofa or going out. I find fewer similarities to Alien or Saab. All three have a commanding and dominant character, but Yves Rocher acts more subtly for my taste.

The longevity is very good at least eight hours. At first, I perceive the sillage as quite strong, only slowly does it lose its breath, the enchanting monster berry.
For young girls, it might not be the first choice; it carries a certain heaviness and opulence, possibly out of place on too narrow shoulders.

I prefer the purple variant because it brings this beautifully confusing fruit twist with it and finds a strong and interesting counterbalance in vetiver and patchouli. It’s not an annoying tug-of-war, more a dark dance full of dynamics. Just like the song by Grace Jones from my headline.
Hypnotically, it sways forward, the unusual and charismatic voice, the soothing yet driving rhythm. It somehow came to my mind immediately.

An olfactory tango, crowned by dark, squishy wine gummy soaked with illegal substances. Sounds strange, but you should definitely give it a try ; -)

Since last August, the sample has come into my hands every now and then. Worn several times, but there was never enough substance to write a comment.
Somehow, I never found Daisy and all her flankers really appealing. The bottles from the house are all quite cute and lovingly designed, but unfortunately, they also look like toys because of that. A bit too sweet and naive for my taste. Ultimately, the content counts; if the bottle doesn’t entice, then the interior can be as grand as it wants.

I found this bottle beautiful right away. It is quite girlish, yet it holds back within limits for my taste. My first Marc Jacobs that I will test, and to my delight, it’s by Alberto Morillas. I often like his fresh and weightless creations, hopefully here too.

The stuff dreams are made of - here it is refreshing blackberry ice, only juicy fruits have been used. No trace of bitter or sour nuances. Invigorating and cheerful, minimally citrusy, sweet-berry, and a bit creamy. The pear doesn’t show itself particularly dominant, yet the top note is crisp and fresh.

Daisy is indeed a dreamer. I would almost say thoughtless, as she seems a bit simple, but in a lovable and heartfelt way.
She loves to frolic all day on juicy green meadows, enjoys relaxing in the slightly damp grass, and watches the fluffy clouds drift across the flawless blue sky.
Actually, it’s still far too cool and fresh in the mornings, even though the sun is shining and it promises to be a wonderfully sunny day. Nevertheless, she flits around in her white linen dress, flax-blonde hair falling onto her almost skinny shoulders, her bright blue eyes sparkling lively and mischievously from her narrow face, always a smile on her sensually curved lips.

And she has a fondness for flowers, especially jasmine. Just freshly and timidly bloomed, gently fragrant and delicate. Time and again, I tell her how beautiful and fragrant wisteria is, how it could adorn the brick walls of her little house, but she just wrinkles her nose and takes a big sip of lychee juice, her favorite drink. Why she likes it so much, I will probably never understand. I find it so thin and watery, tastes artificial, I’d much rather have the whole fruit. She also doesn’t believe me that it would be a great ingredient for a tropical cocktail, with coconut milk and cream. She prefers to stick with the juice, even though I promise her that she is definitely missing out.
No, wisteria is not her plant, it must be a lot of work if it’s supposed to decorate the whole house. Daisy likes it uncomplicated and spontaneous. Committing is not her thing; she is far too lost in thought and dreamy for that.
She loves to lounge in the tall grass, painting for her life, mostly clouds and butterflies. With enviable ease, she captures the motifs on paper, occasionally seen chewing on her fragrant wooden pencils, thoughtfully playing with her long curls that always smell so freshly washed and clean. Day in and day out the same, she never gets bored. Some may find her life dull; she enjoys the carefree life without great highs and lows.

The longevity is surprisingly good, as the perfume lasts over twelve hours even though I didn’t spray generously. The sillage is rather average, yet still noticeable, and the scent has already been praised several times. A nice all-rounder, perhaps also for going out; I like its pure and unspoiled nature. In spring and summer, it will probably shine more, it is definitely refreshing and invigorating.

So far, I like many creations by Mr. Morillas; Daisy Dream strongly reminds me of Omnia Coral, which is already in my collection, so a purchase is unnecessary.
It’s a pity that wisteria and coconut water are hardly or not at all noticeable. I would have been quite pleased, but the iced blackberry, slightly powdery and sweeter jasmine, soft cotton musk, and creamy woods are present the entire time. I don’t find many changes or complexity; it’s quite linear and only a little dynamic, yet easy to like and revitalizing.

Daisy may not be my best friend, but I love spending a lot of time with her. Her carefreeness is contagious and takes the edge off the stressful everyday life. She slows me down and invites me to be a child, to pause and enjoy the moment. Be it on green meadows, in the city, or in my own four walls.
Not everything has to be complicated and well thought out; beauty can also be found in simple things; you just have to take the time to observe.

As the saying goes, in doing nothing, everything is done. Sounds pretty silly at first, and I definitely need to practice doing nothing.
It works best on sunny days, which hopefully can be enjoyed again soon. Maybe even with Daisy Dream.