MossGreen

What have I not tested in search of a fragrance that makes me feel completely comfortable.
One that I can wear confidently at any time, in any season, and for any event.
In short: Dia Woman is exactly that.
I cannot understand how this fragrance could offend anyone in this world, as it glides skillfully and nymph-like over the olfactory receptors, flattering and completely unpretentiously nice, yet intense and powerful.
The name, Dia, could not be more fitting. This is how one can smell every day, how a woman starts productive and eventful days.

Yes, the first spray liberates aldehyde-laden airways and yes, it definitely smells like soap.
But oh, how!
I have always wanted to capture this scent in a bottle and I was sure that if I succeeded, I could become rich with it.
Well, someone else has already pursued this thought to my fortune and misfortune, and when you look at Ellena's biography and compare it to mine, it quickly becomes clear why he succeeded and I did not.
(with a still and some garden herbs, I probably won't get far).

I want to bathe in this fragrance, I want to cleanse myself with its clean aura, which ensures that I simply feel completely comfortable.

Dia Woman does not replace a shower (please, not!), but it is the cherry on top of a well-groomed everyday appearance, the finishing touch for those of us who like to make a statement with understatement.

I leave (as so often) the description of the scent to numerous more talented noses here and just set a small modest monument to my subjective perception in a little corner, where hopefully it won't just gather dust, like the old piece of soap that fell behind the bathroom set.

If I could, the bottle would already be in my closet. Now I am collecting sharing samples and sniffing this masterpiece until my nose is sore.

(And yes, the color of the bottle is absolutely inappropriate; turquoise, white, or bright silver would surely be more suitable).

I found it somehow fitting that there was neither a picture nor comments for this fragrance.
This fact wraps it in a mysterious aura, which suits its actual effect well.

Here, I am dealing with something that has never come under my nose before.
A playful, flirtatious scent that is very reluctant to reveal its secrets.
Spicy, bitter, masculine, sweet, fresh, feminine, nose-wrinkling and furrowed-browed re-sniffing, biting Oud! No...charmingly fresh spicy woodiness!
So what is it then?

Anise, citrus, and Oud come crashing in together and make me flinch.
Who came up with this strange idea?
But as soon as my arm is at a safe distance from my indignant nose, it perceives a charmingly fresh spicy composition that is at once soft, comforting, and somehow stimulating. Encouraging, invigorating, and yet soft.
Like a mother who gives her child a telling-off but at the same time extends her hand to show that she will not abandon it, and that they will try again together, this time it will work, because this time the child is not alone.
They will show the world.

Enchanting.
The fragrance reveals its true complexity only at arm's length.
Therefore, I also find it difficult to describe it in more detail.
The bitter, slightly biting Oud, of which I was never a friend, growls at me throughout the entire scent journey, yet it is so skillfully enveloped by fresh spices, sweet flowers, and creamy base notes that it simply becomes harmonious.
A fruit that I cannot name more precisely adds a certain juicy sweetness throughout the entire journey and prevents it from becoming dry.

I agree with a previous speaker, it seems unbalanced and overloaded, but only directly on the skin.
The radiant scent veil, however, is more than fascinating.
I could only wear this fragrance as an experience, not as a perfume, as it captivates me too much and tells too exciting a story.

Therefore, I am not sad that the traveling package must move on. But of all the scents tested from Mr. Bejar, this one is the most memorable and exciting.

"Darkness" - what a name... perfect for my mood, oriental-gourmand, it crowns my decision on which fragrance from the little travel package I want to test first.

One spray on my forearm and I recoil in shock. What is this? Darkness?
No... DuschDas!
Memories come flooding back:
××The first time showering in my boyfriend's apartment, a spontaneous decision, no toiletries with me, so it must be shower gel... inappropriate, uncomfortable but somehow nice. Maybe this will turn into something serious?××
××My first men's fragrance, which I bought at 14: Otto Kern's Signature. Who knows what possessed me back then. I didn't end up wearing it anyway.××

The scent is, for me, especially at the beginning, the cheapest shower gel synthetic. And above all, it is glaringly bright. When I think of color associations, chrome or bright green come to mind. That wouldn't be so bad, because this sweet citrus-musk cloud is not unpleasant, but what does that have to do with oriental, gourmand, or my beloved amber?
Just before contacting the nice sender of the travel package to check if the labeling is correct, I read the sparse comments about this fragrance.
"Synthetic start fades."
Alright, I will wait.
And wait.
And wait.

Indeed, after about an hour, I can perceive a slight change. It becomes a bit woodier and more austere, I think of oud, albeit a rather weak one that shyly stays in the background, probably doing me a favor because this new note in the otherwise sweet-fresh accord clashes for my nose. It gives the simple balanced scent some depth, but this is so out of tune with the sweetness that everything starts to turn a bit sour, and I actually feel a bit queasy in my stomach.

But it seems to change, and I wait eagerly for the base.
However, not much more happens. The "black amber," which is probably responsible for my oud association, lingers a bit longer and works with vanilla against the zesty top, but with moderate success.
What remains is a hint of imbalance, which now, after about 6 hours, departs without putting up a fight.

No gourmand, no oriental, no darkness.
I will file it away.

Here I am dealing with a gently soft nose-pleaser.
It has been on my wish list for a long time, and the ordered sample lay untouched in my box after the first test.
In the meantime, I got a whiff of "Bois d'Argent" and now, as I was once again in the mood for Bois Intense, I realize that these two fragrances are indeed very close to each other.

The scent starts sweetly deep with a somewhat overwhelming vanilla note, which, accompanied by sharp alcohol, first crashes through the door.
Directly inhaling the first spray is therefore not recommended!
The alcohol quickly dissipates, leaving behind soft, cuddly vanilla.
Soon, something sour-spicy kicks in, which expands the somewhat one-dimensional top note with slightly scratchy, but certainly interesting green nuances.
From this point on, the fragrance hints at its true complexity and once again shows how successful the price-performance ratio is with this brand.
For me, it is primarily the myrrh that teams up with the vanilla to dampen the emerging powderiness of the rather subdued iris and to weave a spicy-sweet thread through the fragrance profile.
I distinctly perceive juniper in the heart, although not the sour fruitiness of the berries but rather the aromatic-warm sap of the needles.
Now the desired wood comes into play, likely enhanced by the warmly glowing amber, and the scent is at times indistinguishable from Bois d'Argent.
However, the latter is distinguished by something that cannot be taken away from it: the strangely fascinating radiance of its sillage. Sometimes it is there, sometimes elsewhere; you can't really grasp it. It's like a dance of scents.
In Intense, this phenomenon proves to be less fascinating, more straightforward, simpler.
And a certain golden glow, which captivates me with Dior, is also missing here.

Setting aside these nuances, Bois Intense is a worthy counterpart.
Even though I would have found the name Bois Vanille somewhat more fitting, as the dominance of the same cannot be denied in this fragrance.
I love the scent of vanilla, and here it is, as already mentioned, very skillfully executed, spicy and powdery, enveloping and not intrusive or too sweet.
Those who do not like vanilla will probably not find joy here.

The longevity on me at cooler temperatures is quite good at about 8 hours, and the sillage is steady and even, although I cannot assess it well myself, and my "It all smells the same" husband is not a good reference.

A wonderful soft winter scent for a great price, which smells significantly more valuable than one might assume.

Rarely have I been so disappointed by a fragrance, which in this case is probably just due to the high expectations.

I was looking forward to a herb-surrounded basket full of fresh, juicy citrus fruits glowing in the resinous light of a coastal sunset...
At least to a gentle hint of what some seem to perceive in this scent, judging by the comments.

However, what hit me after the first spray was a bitter-sparkling, artificially sweet lemon aroma storm, through which a few small mandarins peeked shyly, only to quickly hide again to avoid being overwhelmed by the sugary grapefruit that was now thundering its way through.

Unfortunately, the scent hardly changes on my skin now, and the only thing that distinguishes it from my glass cleaner is that the latter does not occasionally emit a slightly amber base note and costs a fraction.

I don't understand why this fragrance does not appeal to me at all. By now, I have grown very fond of spices and I also like the scent of citrus fruits.
But it always stings and bites in perfumes and often comes across as sterile and synthetically flat.
I had hoped to find something authentic here, instead I am shocked to notice parallels to "Green Tea intense".

It seems to me that an attempt was made to combine a flat citrus cologne with noble resin and mature vetiver to forcibly transform it into an expensive suit-summer scent, which definitely went wrong for my nose.
These "fruits" seem to feel much more at home in cheap attire.
But for the majority of commentators, it seems to be a coherent concept.

Well, my search continues.