Mustang69

The namesake absinthe might suggest a punchy scent, but quite the opposite is true here: this fragrance is characterized throughout by an exceptionally beautiful gentleness. The opening is light, warm, and nutty. After a while, a very subtle, fruity-alcoholic base note becomes noticeable. It's lovely how discreetly it has been integrated. Absinthe comes through only minimally, adding just the right twist. The longer the day goes on, the more a warm-hearted woodiness becomes prominent. The scent gently fades on the skin, perfectly nuanced by a hint of tonka bean.

Borsari has done a great job here; in my opinion, it’s a well-crafted, finely balanced cologne. May my calls be heard and perhaps a bottle will find its place in my collection through unexpected means.

A serious competitor is emerging here to my personal favorite fragrance from Serge Lutens, the wonderful Gris Clair. The characteristics of lavender - certainly the key building block here - have been constructed in a very similar way. The appealing spectrum oscillates between creamy-soft and light-clear. A particularly successful accent in the overall composition is provided by turmeric. Comfort and a finely distinguished warmth caress the nose.
In direct comparison, it is noticeable that Godet's interpretation is overall a bit sweeter. However, for long stretches, the sweet bouquet is skillfully tempered by a spicy pepper note. This is well done and pleasing. Only in the base does Calme & Volupté, to my regret, flatten out a bit; fruity aspects now come to the forefront, and everything seems a bit arbitrary. Had the fragrance pyramid not informed me otherwise, my suspicion would have secretly leaned towards neroli as the defining note for the drydown.
This scent is close to it, but ultimately, in my opinion, it does not manage to dethrone Gris Clair.

An abandoned porch, somewhere in the South. The white paint on the railing is peeling, revealing the bare wood underneath. On the battered floorboards stands a rocking chair, weathered and sagging. In the corner, a pile of old tires. A metal jug, carelessly set down long ago. The pitch inside for sealing the planks has long since dried up.

The sun shimmers.

A citrusy opening, zesty and invigorating, gently transitions into a velvety rooibos note. At the same time, a light, floral spectrum builds up. A harmonious overall picture emerges, pleasantly natural. In fact, Thé pour un Été is an excellently balanced fragrance that maintains a restraint I find particularly enjoyable. Towards the end of this delightful experience, the scent returns to its roots and fades into silky rooibos associations.

Even though I cannot understand why the fine, nuanced spectrum offered by the world of black and green teas is generally so rarely utilized in the conception of tea fragrances: this one is likely to settle in and stay. A distinguished, eloquent companion that knows how to tell its stories with charm and sensitivity.

Trust me
when I offer you
a moment
in the eye
of the cyclone.

Here ends your striving
your struggle
for individuality.

Amber-colored resin,
in the light
of long-forgotten lines.
Tropical breath
will grant you forgetfulness
for an elegant
moment.