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Coconut Bombshell on the Side
Hm. This year I’m in a coconut phase - wherever it came from, suddenly it was there.
So I boldly reached for this one in a recent swap when I saw it in the Togo folder. Although one could honestly point out that this thing looks a bit like a children’s perfume from a gumball machine. About. But whatever - no risk, no fun...
And today it was tested.
The result?
Kaboom
The first impression (minute 1 and 2): what is this terrible concoction?
In my mind's eye, 3 tablespoons of toothpaste (with stripes!) were mixed in a small bowl (it was squeaky yellow!) with
8 - 9 round coconut-chocolate coins, crushed and stirred into a slightly viscous paste...
Horror. Or something like that.
Between minutes 3 and 7, first doubts arose and I became indecisive.
Is it "terrible" or is it "rather quirky, but somehow genius"? And whether it’s 1 or 2, do I want to smell like this and why?
Hm. What can I say? Well, what comes out of this little blue strange thing has been on my arm for about 6 hours (even though I only sprayed it once timidly).
It has staying power.
I’ve gotten used to it.
The squeaky yellow bowl has warped. What remains is a dull (not in a negative sense), felt "rather darker" coconut note, like from a good sunscreen that smells strongly of coconut.
And now I really crave spring. Because that’s where it belongs. In spring, on relaxed free days when the soul can dangle and you have a bit more mischief than usual.
And on some of those days, it will accompany me. Then I will solidify my opinion about it again. Possibly.
Anyway, I will catch up on the review then...
So I boldly reached for this one in a recent swap when I saw it in the Togo folder. Although one could honestly point out that this thing looks a bit like a children’s perfume from a gumball machine. About. But whatever - no risk, no fun...
And today it was tested.
The result?
Kaboom
The first impression (minute 1 and 2): what is this terrible concoction?
In my mind's eye, 3 tablespoons of toothpaste (with stripes!) were mixed in a small bowl (it was squeaky yellow!) with
8 - 9 round coconut-chocolate coins, crushed and stirred into a slightly viscous paste...
Horror. Or something like that.
Between minutes 3 and 7, first doubts arose and I became indecisive.
Is it "terrible" or is it "rather quirky, but somehow genius"? And whether it’s 1 or 2, do I want to smell like this and why?
Hm. What can I say? Well, what comes out of this little blue strange thing has been on my arm for about 6 hours (even though I only sprayed it once timidly).
It has staying power.
I’ve gotten used to it.
The squeaky yellow bowl has warped. What remains is a dull (not in a negative sense), felt "rather darker" coconut note, like from a good sunscreen that smells strongly of coconut.
And now I really crave spring. Because that’s where it belongs. In spring, on relaxed free days when the soul can dangle and you have a bit more mischief than usual.
And on some of those days, it will accompany me. Then I will solidify my opinion about it again. Possibly.
Anyway, I will catch up on the review then...
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Black is Not Gold
I tried - to love you. Yes, little black bear, truly. And I was really determined, I swear to you.
But unfortunately, the plan didn't work out. You were one of those who were supposed to comfort me over my lost (carelessly sold years ago) Just Cavalli Gold for Her. One of the three in total who were meant to fill the gap left by HIM (the Golden).
And you failed at that too, little bear, as miserably as the other two before and after you...
For the first 10 minutes, I thought it would work. You sprayed the most beautiful hazelnut around my ears, uh, wrists, although milder, softer than the "prickly" Cavalli Gold, but no less beautiful and seductive.
But shortly after, the dream came to an end. You slipped into a cozy-warm direction, similar to my beloved Trussardi Inside or the wonderful Musk 12 by Kayali. Also beautiful in itself, but just not at all what I had hoped for from you. No trace of hazelnut or the golden "fireworks" of the past...
The dry down is an innocuous vanilla-sandalwood combo, exactly according to the fragrance pyramid. Pleasant and delicate, yes.
S/H I would place both in the middle range.
What remains for me as a farewell, my little black bear?
I wish you an unbiased nose that has no specific expectations of you, but likes you unprejudiced just as you are.
Or maybe even loves...?
And me? My search was intense, very intense! And it was successful. The golden Cavalli is on its way, and that twice over...
Maybe you brought me luck, little black bear...
But unfortunately, the plan didn't work out. You were one of those who were supposed to comfort me over my lost (carelessly sold years ago) Just Cavalli Gold for Her. One of the three in total who were meant to fill the gap left by HIM (the Golden).
And you failed at that too, little bear, as miserably as the other two before and after you...
For the first 10 minutes, I thought it would work. You sprayed the most beautiful hazelnut around my ears, uh, wrists, although milder, softer than the "prickly" Cavalli Gold, but no less beautiful and seductive.
But shortly after, the dream came to an end. You slipped into a cozy-warm direction, similar to my beloved Trussardi Inside or the wonderful Musk 12 by Kayali. Also beautiful in itself, but just not at all what I had hoped for from you. No trace of hazelnut or the golden "fireworks" of the past...
The dry down is an innocuous vanilla-sandalwood combo, exactly according to the fragrance pyramid. Pleasant and delicate, yes.
S/H I would place both in the middle range.
What remains for me as a farewell, my little black bear?
I wish you an unbiased nose that has no specific expectations of you, but likes you unprejudiced just as you are.
Or maybe even loves...?
And me? My search was intense, very intense! And it was successful. The golden Cavalli is on its way, and that twice over...
Maybe you brought me luck, little black bear...
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The Mandatory Review
This is a double premiere for me.
The first review in 4 years, I hope this works out...
Plus the first review that I am writing without emotions (usually a deeper connection to a fragrance prompts me to write a review, whether positive or negative). This time I am completely neutral, but somehow I feel obligated because I didn't want to let a previously uncommented perfume just pass by. Especially one that is discontinued and cannot be easily tested anywhere anymore.
Okay, let's get to the point... Blind buy (because berry-musk combo according to the pyramid and limited/scarce availability - that often makes my brain shut off).
2nd test today. Unfortunately, we didn't reach 20 degrees, but 18 plus sunshine was enough.
Now the reason for my confusion from the 1st test (see statement) has become clear to me.
I smell something that I did not expect according to the fragrance pyramid, namely citrus.
After spraying: fizzy, fresh, citrusy. Mandarin? A hint of blood orange perhaps.
However blue wisteria smells, I don't smell it (unless it smells like mandarin or blood orange) ;-)
Heart note: associations of fruit gum and fruit shampoo join the citrus and blend into a cheerful fragrance mix.
I think the scent needs warmer temperatures. 25 degrees and above. Therefore, I am very fair in my rating and description because I genuinely believe it can do more when it’s really summery.
Negative: little recognizability, very light.
Positive: definitely lifts the mood, won't offend anyone, office-friendly, "always wearable".
Since my citrus and berry collection (I still don't quite know where it would fit better) is well filled with fix starters, it can move on and already has a new destination.
Sillage and longevity probably also in the lower-middle range, here too I hope for potential in summer.
That's it for today. See you soon, then also with more emotions - I promise :-)
The first review in 4 years, I hope this works out...
Plus the first review that I am writing without emotions (usually a deeper connection to a fragrance prompts me to write a review, whether positive or negative). This time I am completely neutral, but somehow I feel obligated because I didn't want to let a previously uncommented perfume just pass by. Especially one that is discontinued and cannot be easily tested anywhere anymore.
Okay, let's get to the point... Blind buy (because berry-musk combo according to the pyramid and limited/scarce availability - that often makes my brain shut off).
2nd test today. Unfortunately, we didn't reach 20 degrees, but 18 plus sunshine was enough.
Now the reason for my confusion from the 1st test (see statement) has become clear to me.
I smell something that I did not expect according to the fragrance pyramid, namely citrus.
After spraying: fizzy, fresh, citrusy. Mandarin? A hint of blood orange perhaps.
However blue wisteria smells, I don't smell it (unless it smells like mandarin or blood orange) ;-)
Heart note: associations of fruit gum and fruit shampoo join the citrus and blend into a cheerful fragrance mix.
I think the scent needs warmer temperatures. 25 degrees and above. Therefore, I am very fair in my rating and description because I genuinely believe it can do more when it’s really summery.
Negative: little recognizability, very light.
Positive: definitely lifts the mood, won't offend anyone, office-friendly, "always wearable".
Since my citrus and berry collection (I still don't quite know where it would fit better) is well filled with fix starters, it can move on and already has a new destination.
Sillage and longevity probably also in the lower-middle range, here too I hope for potential in summer.
That's it for today. See you soon, then also with more emotions - I promise :-)
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The Long Dark River
Some fragrances are like a long calm river. You travel along this river in a small boat, and it doesn't move quickly, but rather slowly, almost leisurely.
The river I navigate with Black Tulip is long. It is calm. And it is rather dark. Its water is almost black and opaque, offering no opportunity to get even a hint of what the bottom might be like.
It is mysterious and seems a bit aloof. No distractions, no surprises await me on my journey. No big jumps, no sudden waves or sharp turns.
Nothing that diverts my attention or interrupts the tranquility. Just me and the river. This may sound boring, but on some days it is simply pleasant and relaxing.
On the banks of the river stand nougat violets. Many, many nougat violets. In different sizes. These are - unromantically and reasonably considered - probably a mix of cyclamen, black tulip (??), plum, and white chocolate. In my mind and my nose, however, they are nougat violets. I see them before me, with their many differently sized leaves, delicate lilac, though this is hardly recognizable because it is covered by a thin shiny layer of nougat, everywhere. All around.
So these nougat violets stand on both sides of the river and line my path. They exude an irresistible, magical scent.
The longer the journey lasts, the rarer they become. The distances between them grow larger. Their scent fades. What remains is the long calm river. A silent force with the scent of tranquil water. And noble wood. Gloomy and almost majestic. It is self-sufficient. And rests within itself.
My journey is at an end. The river remains behind. Its dark secret has not been revealed to me. That it is worth searching for is certain. Perhaps on the next attempt. Or the one after that.
The river I navigate with Black Tulip is long. It is calm. And it is rather dark. Its water is almost black and opaque, offering no opportunity to get even a hint of what the bottom might be like.
It is mysterious and seems a bit aloof. No distractions, no surprises await me on my journey. No big jumps, no sudden waves or sharp turns.
Nothing that diverts my attention or interrupts the tranquility. Just me and the river. This may sound boring, but on some days it is simply pleasant and relaxing.
On the banks of the river stand nougat violets. Many, many nougat violets. In different sizes. These are - unromantically and reasonably considered - probably a mix of cyclamen, black tulip (??), plum, and white chocolate. In my mind and my nose, however, they are nougat violets. I see them before me, with their many differently sized leaves, delicate lilac, though this is hardly recognizable because it is covered by a thin shiny layer of nougat, everywhere. All around.
So these nougat violets stand on both sides of the river and line my path. They exude an irresistible, magical scent.
The longer the journey lasts, the rarer they become. The distances between them grow larger. Their scent fades. What remains is the long calm river. A silent force with the scent of tranquil water. And noble wood. Gloomy and almost majestic. It is self-sufficient. And rests within itself.
My journey is at an end. The river remains behind. Its dark secret has not been revealed to me. That it is worth searching for is certain. Perhaps on the next attempt. Or the one after that.
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The One with Three Faces
Nèh intrigued me due to the completely unknown brand and the original name, so I included it as a sample request in a swap package.
My curiosity was rewarded; I found the scent stunning and was initially confused by the somewhat strange fragrance impressions, but after a few hours, I was thrilled. It was a combination of an intense yet unobtrusive powder-cream blend and a very sweet, almondy strawberry note in the heart. And it was this note that fascinated me about Nèh.
I like strawberries. With sugar, with whipped cream, and even more in a strawberry daiquiri :-)
And I also like them in perfumes. I love the top note of "Womanity Eau pour Elles" for this very reason. But unfortunately, it disappears so quickly. So I was glad to have found something comparable here that lasts longer.
This note was described in statements as strawberry-sugar foam and as powdered strawberry talcum mix. Both sound crazy, but both hit the nail on the head. That's how I perceived it, and exactly that drew me in.
When the sample was empty, I ordered a decant.
After the first spray, I was lost. This was not the Nèh I knew. There was a hairspray note in the top, reminiscent of "Muschio Bianco" (which I didn't like), and this carried through to the heart. Only after that did the powder-cream blend return, without almonds. And certainly without strawberries.
What I should make of this was unclear to me. I definitely wanted my Nèh strawberries back.
Thanks to a good souk offer at just the right time, I boldly ordered a bottle. All or nothing. Maybe my cotton candy strawberries are back in there. That's what I thought and hoped.
With the bottle, Nèh showed me its third face. No hairspray. Phew, lucky me! But also no almonds. And definitely no strawberries - neither with cotton candy nor without. My bottle Nèh turned out to be a rather linear powder-cream scent without development and surprises. On my skin, it was just baby powder. A lot of it. And soft cream, whether it's blue or another, I can't say right now.
It was a really pleasant scent, enveloping, that accompanied one quietly but noticeably for a long time with good longevity.
But it was not a scent that could excite me in the long run. I noticed that I had to consciously motivate myself to wear it again from time to time. So it was time for it to move on.
Why Nèh presented itself to me in such different ways three times, I will probably never know. Reformulation(s)? Change of the scent due to the different sprayers (1 x plastic, 1 x glass / although I am at least sure that the glass decant was freshly filled just before).
A consolation is that I unexpectedly found my perfume strawberries (albeit without cotton candy) in a completely different scent. But more on that soon in my next comment... :-)
My curiosity was rewarded; I found the scent stunning and was initially confused by the somewhat strange fragrance impressions, but after a few hours, I was thrilled. It was a combination of an intense yet unobtrusive powder-cream blend and a very sweet, almondy strawberry note in the heart. And it was this note that fascinated me about Nèh.
I like strawberries. With sugar, with whipped cream, and even more in a strawberry daiquiri :-)
And I also like them in perfumes. I love the top note of "Womanity Eau pour Elles" for this very reason. But unfortunately, it disappears so quickly. So I was glad to have found something comparable here that lasts longer.
This note was described in statements as strawberry-sugar foam and as powdered strawberry talcum mix. Both sound crazy, but both hit the nail on the head. That's how I perceived it, and exactly that drew me in.
When the sample was empty, I ordered a decant.
After the first spray, I was lost. This was not the Nèh I knew. There was a hairspray note in the top, reminiscent of "Muschio Bianco" (which I didn't like), and this carried through to the heart. Only after that did the powder-cream blend return, without almonds. And certainly without strawberries.
What I should make of this was unclear to me. I definitely wanted my Nèh strawberries back.
Thanks to a good souk offer at just the right time, I boldly ordered a bottle. All or nothing. Maybe my cotton candy strawberries are back in there. That's what I thought and hoped.
With the bottle, Nèh showed me its third face. No hairspray. Phew, lucky me! But also no almonds. And definitely no strawberries - neither with cotton candy nor without. My bottle Nèh turned out to be a rather linear powder-cream scent without development and surprises. On my skin, it was just baby powder. A lot of it. And soft cream, whether it's blue or another, I can't say right now.
It was a really pleasant scent, enveloping, that accompanied one quietly but noticeably for a long time with good longevity.
But it was not a scent that could excite me in the long run. I noticed that I had to consciously motivate myself to wear it again from time to time. So it was time for it to move on.
Why Nèh presented itself to me in such different ways three times, I will probably never know. Reformulation(s)? Change of the scent due to the different sprayers (1 x plastic, 1 x glass / although I am at least sure that the glass decant was freshly filled just before).
A consolation is that I unexpectedly found my perfume strawberries (albeit without cotton candy) in a completely different scent. But more on that soon in my next comment... :-)
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