Meggi

The rain is so thick. But not right away, because first a downright obscure, banana-like surge has to go. It really moves quickly from there (wait until then!). Muscat sage soon presents a men's spice that does not look stinky at all, but is already close to the conifer. Very stylish, without being smooth. I wouldn't have thought of cedar and pine at first, I find this one warmer. Well, maybe it's because of the warm and spicy smoke, which assists less in a consecration than in a cuddling way. Still in the course of the opening hour, clear cedar peels out. Elemi moistens it with a whitish-purple leucoplast veil. The combination is original and yet the outward effect is classic.

It's funny that in the second hour, the scent suddenly reminds me of baby jar fruit porridge; specifically: banana, a splash of peach may be in it. Perhaps this is the banana-like impression that I often think of with certain artificial woods? But the whole thing is probably a solitaire perception of mine again. Nevertheless, for me it clearly (and obliquely!) takes up the fruit thread from the front again.

This is once again only an intermezzo, but this time it is of course one of easily three hours duration. Only in the late morning does a gradually dominant interplay between light-smoke resin and wood emerge. And from that He-Ha-Ho, the Ha finally gives me a tangible reason not to smell, even taste, a banana that has been smashed on a plate with a fork (the child is a bit older now) and protected from browning with lemon juice. It's terrible how stubbornly such perception tracks, once they have been taken, set the direction. Away with you, banana!

So I finally diagnose coniferous wood around noon. So let's get real. In contrast to the previous speaker Ergoproxy (thank you for the sample!), it doesn't seem to me to be overly synthetic, and certainly not annoyingly do-it-yourself. Rather, the wood gets out the back as a subtle surprise with a touch of Goutal-like fir-twitchiness à la Nuit Etoilée, while our discreet, yet characterfully strong smoke spice darkens the overall picture. Very nice. I almost forgot the banana.

PS: By the way, the fruit-jar escapade explains the name of the fragrance perfectly. For someone who lives in the Hamburg area, both Hipp company headquarters - whether in Germany or Switzerland - are quite far to the south.

We are at the Easter fire of the volunteer fire brigade Westerschnatebüll ("Rescue, extinguish, recover, protect and celebrate"). The evening has advanced and the flames blaze merrily. A light breeze blows from the west. Those present divide into three groups. The first and smallest is made up of a few male adolescents who had carelessly placed themselves on the far side of the fire from the wind. This secretly annoys them and their eyes water mightily, but of course a real guy doesn't leave because of it, certainly not first. So they persevere in the more or less thick smoke.

Their scent: 'Vi et Armis' by Beaufort.

On either side of the fire is where the vast majority of the guests stay, essentially the normies, the party seasoned and the romantics. They don't want to get the smoke in their eyes, yet enjoy the warmth of the fire as intensely as possible; one or the other in close togetherness.

Your fragrance: 'Comme des Garçons - Black'

On the west side stand the more distant. In fact, they didn't want to go at all. Too full, too...rustic - just somehow it just belongs. Nevertheless, the clothes do not necessarily still smell three weeks afterwards.

Their fragrance: 'Qaaid'.

It starts with a hint of salty licorice, then bitter citrus appears on first cold-tarry, then warmer-woody smoke. The citrus note becomes sweeter (I'm thinking hot lemon!) and also warmer, but soon retreats, it becomes metallic-cool.

A hint of smoked fish. How now: Fish with lemon in a different way? Aha. Where, however, 'Vi et Armis' fish-wise goes full into the mackerel, it remains here with a hint. There can be no doubt that a certain airiness is to be maintained today. And indeed, later in the morning, there emerges an aura - at least in comparison to the other two aforementioned - that is startlingly office-appropriate, made up of a gently tarry, oily rubber muddle and ethereal freshness. There may have been something wrong in the pile, a scrap of old car tyre perhaps, which resembled a piece of bark with moss. Such a thing can happen even routiniers times.

The now gradually swelling sweetness increases the proximity to 'Black' enormously towards the afternoon, but always resonates as a fine balancer the bittersour gum note and keeps the tension. And finally I come to what the reminds me: similar can be found in Mr. Tauer.

In the evening, the sweetness again touches the licorice, this time the Haribo variety. Of the smoke I perceive only a coky residue, before the fragrance - it has become late - more earthy, gothic and again unsweet concludes.

Conclusion: an excellent smoker and candidate for the wish list.

I thank Angelliese and Gerdi for the fact that I could test Qaaid.