NuiWhakakore
Reviews
Filter & sort
NuiWhakakore
Translated
Show original
The apocalypse is canceled
They told us not to go over the mountains, only desolation and death await you there. They told us to stay here in the valley, life is hard but safe. They told us to be content with what you have here, even if it is little and meagre. They told us not to strive for more, that is the road to ruin.
They said all that, over and over again, but I couldn't listen to them. The valley here is too narrow, the horizon too close, always reachable in a few hours, without a secret. So I set off, over passes and through narrow valleys, an arduous journey, but now I stand at the foot of the mountains and feel the cool wind blowing sharply from the heights at my back.
And it is desolate here, but not empty. The trees are black, but resin flows beneath the charred bark, and a tentative green is showing between the bare earth. Smoke drifts across the land, but the air is warm and aromatic. The fresh wind from the mountains fights against it, but after a few more steps it fades and the warmth surrounds me. I sit with my back leaning against a charred tree trunk and even my heavy, coarse leather becomes miraculously soft and gentle. I look into the distance, towards the horizon, and for the first time it seems infinitely far away and mysterious.
----------------
To be honest, I'm not quite sure why Atomico XXVI automatically conjures up post-apocalyptic images, but they are always there. Images like Mad Max, The Road or Fallout. It's probably just the name, because the fragrance has nothing apocalyptic about it.
It starts very peppery and there are also fresh notes, but it is not entirely clear whether they are vetiver or cedar. On the other hand, there are warm resins and sweet vanilla (fortunately not too much and not too sweet). This is a very nice contrast, which is slightly different every time you wear it. Sometimes the sweet-resinous predominates, sometimes the peppery-fresh. Soon creamy, spicy sandalwood comes in, not Mysore (no glue), but not generic either. The vanilla becomes a little clearer and amber is added. For me, it shouldn't be any sweeter than this, but the blend is perfect. The leather note only comes through towards the base. It is a clean, soft leather, slightly creamy and spicy and there is also a hint of licorice, the latter slightly burnt.
Which perhaps brings us to the apocalypse: the smoke. It runs through the entire fragrance, still relatively faint at the beginning, then increasingly perceptible, then a little less in the base. However, it is not a dense, black smoke, but a rather light and gentle one. In the middle of the trail, I briefly have the feeling of a blown-out match, but it doesn't last long.
So the apocalypse has been canceled for now and it won't come in '26 either, because I already have something else planned. Atomico is a very warm, cozy autumn and winter fragrance with enough depth not to bore, but also not so much to strain. Therefore, it can be worn all day (it lasts for 10-12 hours), and if you put it on your scarf, it will last for a few days.
They said all that, over and over again, but I couldn't listen to them. The valley here is too narrow, the horizon too close, always reachable in a few hours, without a secret. So I set off, over passes and through narrow valleys, an arduous journey, but now I stand at the foot of the mountains and feel the cool wind blowing sharply from the heights at my back.
And it is desolate here, but not empty. The trees are black, but resin flows beneath the charred bark, and a tentative green is showing between the bare earth. Smoke drifts across the land, but the air is warm and aromatic. The fresh wind from the mountains fights against it, but after a few more steps it fades and the warmth surrounds me. I sit with my back leaning against a charred tree trunk and even my heavy, coarse leather becomes miraculously soft and gentle. I look into the distance, towards the horizon, and for the first time it seems infinitely far away and mysterious.
----------------
To be honest, I'm not quite sure why Atomico XXVI automatically conjures up post-apocalyptic images, but they are always there. Images like Mad Max, The Road or Fallout. It's probably just the name, because the fragrance has nothing apocalyptic about it.
It starts very peppery and there are also fresh notes, but it is not entirely clear whether they are vetiver or cedar. On the other hand, there are warm resins and sweet vanilla (fortunately not too much and not too sweet). This is a very nice contrast, which is slightly different every time you wear it. Sometimes the sweet-resinous predominates, sometimes the peppery-fresh. Soon creamy, spicy sandalwood comes in, not Mysore (no glue), but not generic either. The vanilla becomes a little clearer and amber is added. For me, it shouldn't be any sweeter than this, but the blend is perfect. The leather note only comes through towards the base. It is a clean, soft leather, slightly creamy and spicy and there is also a hint of licorice, the latter slightly burnt.
Which perhaps brings us to the apocalypse: the smoke. It runs through the entire fragrance, still relatively faint at the beginning, then increasingly perceptible, then a little less in the base. However, it is not a dense, black smoke, but a rather light and gentle one. In the middle of the trail, I briefly have the feeling of a blown-out match, but it doesn't last long.
So the apocalypse has been canceled for now and it won't come in '26 either, because I already have something else planned. Atomico is a very warm, cozy autumn and winter fragrance with enough depth not to bore, but also not so much to strain. Therefore, it can be worn all day (it lasts for 10-12 hours), and if you put it on your scarf, it will last for a few days.
46 Comments
Translated
Show original
Vicki-Lin is not my lover
the alarm clock reads 2:57 AM when the phone rings. I'm already dressed, of course, but I wait a little longer before answering it. I keep reminding myself: sound sleepy, be surprised. Is there a fire in the abattoir? Oh, of course I come straight away, I like being in the fire department. And I really am, you have to believe me!
In the garage, I quickly take the empty fuel canister out of the trunk and drive off at a leisurely pace. I don't want to arrive too early, I'd rather arrive in the middle, inconspicuously. I can see the glow of the fire from afar and the smell is in the air. Black smoke, acrid and thick for some; full, spicy and warm for me. You can almost hear the fat of the half cattle hissing in the slaughterhouse. The smell in the air is like bacon, it gives you an appetite.
As I get closer, I see that the fire has already spread to the forest. Some fir trees are ablaze like 30-meter-high torches. One treetop is already exploding, going up like a New Year's Eve rocket, spraying sparks of glowing needles and burning resin. A dreamlike sight, even more beautiful than last month's barn.
I slowly get out of the car and walk to my colleagues - after all, putting out the fire is part of the job. On the way, I hum an old Swedish song, I think by Mickl Jaggelson
Vicki-Lin is not my lover
she's just a girl who want's to burn down
all there is around
uh-huh-huuuhu...
-------------------
Vicki-Lin is a big party for birch tar lovers, a warm campfire or even a big fire, depending on your level of personal hardening. For me personally, it is even more of a campfire, the smoke is not at all exuberant, although it is certainly dark and dense. Very spicy, bacony birch tar defines it, certainly also supported by juniper, the
Choya Loban (dirty incense) and a salty note from the Choya Nakh (fortunately not fishy). This smoke initially takes away my view of other components, but fortunately clears a little after a few minutes, so that you can then also coyly perceive fresh notes (lemongrass, pine needles) and also dry wood. The fresh notes don't make the smoke any better, smoked bacon doesn't necessarily benefit from a splash of lemon. A little later, you can even recognize something slightly green (probably the fern), although you should not get the wrong idea, all these ingredients (wood, needles, ferns) only serve as food for the flames, the smoke always remains dominant. Only towards the base does the fragrance become a little softer and gentler, the resins come more to the fore and one can at least hope that the entire forest has not burned down.
A note on the skunk cabbage: I haven't the faintest idea what it smells like, but I absolutely believe that it is present and perhaps even a central component of the fragrance. I can't prove it.
So if you like birch tar and have a dark, smoky soul, go for it! Because despite everything I personally don't like about Vicki-Lin, it's still a fantastically composed campfire fragrance that you and the environment can enjoy for a long time.
-------------------
Unfortunately, there are no more recordings of the Swedish song. I only found an American cover, but the lyrics are stupid:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zi_XLOBDo_Y
In the garage, I quickly take the empty fuel canister out of the trunk and drive off at a leisurely pace. I don't want to arrive too early, I'd rather arrive in the middle, inconspicuously. I can see the glow of the fire from afar and the smell is in the air. Black smoke, acrid and thick for some; full, spicy and warm for me. You can almost hear the fat of the half cattle hissing in the slaughterhouse. The smell in the air is like bacon, it gives you an appetite.
As I get closer, I see that the fire has already spread to the forest. Some fir trees are ablaze like 30-meter-high torches. One treetop is already exploding, going up like a New Year's Eve rocket, spraying sparks of glowing needles and burning resin. A dreamlike sight, even more beautiful than last month's barn.
I slowly get out of the car and walk to my colleagues - after all, putting out the fire is part of the job. On the way, I hum an old Swedish song, I think by Mickl Jaggelson
Vicki-Lin is not my lover
she's just a girl who want's to burn down
all there is around
uh-huh-huuuhu...
-------------------
Vicki-Lin is a big party for birch tar lovers, a warm campfire or even a big fire, depending on your level of personal hardening. For me personally, it is even more of a campfire, the smoke is not at all exuberant, although it is certainly dark and dense. Very spicy, bacony birch tar defines it, certainly also supported by juniper, the
Choya Loban (dirty incense) and a salty note from the Choya Nakh (fortunately not fishy). This smoke initially takes away my view of other components, but fortunately clears a little after a few minutes, so that you can then also coyly perceive fresh notes (lemongrass, pine needles) and also dry wood. The fresh notes don't make the smoke any better, smoked bacon doesn't necessarily benefit from a splash of lemon. A little later, you can even recognize something slightly green (probably the fern), although you should not get the wrong idea, all these ingredients (wood, needles, ferns) only serve as food for the flames, the smoke always remains dominant. Only towards the base does the fragrance become a little softer and gentler, the resins come more to the fore and one can at least hope that the entire forest has not burned down.
A note on the skunk cabbage: I haven't the faintest idea what it smells like, but I absolutely believe that it is present and perhaps even a central component of the fragrance. I can't prove it.
So if you like birch tar and have a dark, smoky soul, go for it! Because despite everything I personally don't like about Vicki-Lin, it's still a fantastically composed campfire fragrance that you and the environment can enjoy for a long time.
-------------------
Unfortunately, there are no more recordings of the Swedish song. I only found an American cover, but the lyrics are stupid:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zi_XLOBDo_Y
56 Comments
Translated
Show original
Once upon a time...
...a long time ago, under one of the seven mountains, far before the seven dwarves, lived a small, hairy troll. Hairy, however, was only the body, on the head he had only a few tangled tufts that stood out in all directions. Moreover, he was old, hunchbacked, had a crooked nose and pointed ears. In short, he was not beautiful. But that wasn't the biggest problem, he was also exceedingly grumpy and constantly in a bad mood. So it was no wonder that no one liked him, which was fine for him, he didn't like anyone either.
He dwelled in a damp cave deep under one of the high mountains. The lighting was gloomy and in the corners it was already moldy. His favorite foods were cheese and small animals, which he caught and grilled on his huge charcoal grill, fur and all. In addition, he drank sour wine and stale beer, and so the little troll smelled and liked it. His most prized possession was an old leather riding crop he had once found. It was almost as big as he was and he always had it with him. That's why he was called...but no! His name could not be pronounced, that brought bad luck!
He came mostly only at night from his cave. Therefore, the people in the village barricaded their doors and closed the shutters of the windows, as soon as the sun went down. Because they feared him, he was always so ill-tempered and mean. Only sometimes he came out during the day. Then he liked to scare little children, that gave him pleasure.
One day a dear little fairy flew by. She was actually already in closing time, but she saw the tired, bad-tempered troll and wanted to put him out of his misery. So she flew to him and said:
'So, you tired little troll, your ill-temperedness can't be seen, I'll make you a present so that you can be cheerful again!'
The troll grumbled: 'I have not invited you into my cave, you winged bimbo, and anyway, what about my three wishes!'
That with the floozy overheard the dear fairy flissfully and said: 'I'm already closing time, the wishes you can forget, you get one thing that you really, really urgently need and not some tinnef you wish!'
With that, she waved her squeaky pink fairy wand, scattered some fairy magic powder, and with a quiet, friendly plop, she was gone. On the table was a small black bottle for it.
great, and now who's going to clean up all this powder mess?" the troll called after her. It was now but not so that a bit of fairy powder would have been further noticed in the müffeligem mess of the cave.
The small troll looked at the bottle sullenly and rejected it already on principle, although it was as beautifully black as his soul. Of course, he could not control his curiosity for long and opened it. And suddenly there were mild citrus fruits and fresh green, as juicy as the sunrise. He had seen it once, even if only briefly, because he was afraid that he might find it beautiful and disappeared into his cave. The scent, however, continued to waft around him; fresh, green, spicy, gentle, and he hardly dared to think, cultivated. Only a very small bit of earth was still to be guessed. Slowly, the corners of his mouth moved upward. It crunched softly and also hurt a little, his face was not used to such things. Indeed, he smiled! If also somewhat crookedly.
Soon he was known as the friendly little troll, people were no longer afraid of him and even the children liked him. He always smelled well-groomed and looked increasingly so. Old, hunchbacked and not nice to look at, he still was. He no longer had his riding crop with him.
And if now a stranger at the cave of the troll comes past, jumps this joy-beaming on him and calls:
'Grüzi, i bin der Grawasch, magst ein Stückl Greyerzer?'
--------------------
This Cravache starts with a medium-fresh lemon note, which is designed by the tangerine very juicy-fruity. With it is also immediately a gentle herbaceous lavender, soft, not too sweet, without any flowers. It's all very gentle and mildly pleasant. While the citrus quickly dissipates, a good portion of sage comes in. This spices up the nevertheless quite mild lavender a bit, as does the nutmeg, which provides very light brown, but also ethereal-spicy tips. From here on, a dry woody note runs through the rest of the scent and I think I perceive a very slight cinnamon. Thus, the fragrance remains quite long, before a very little patch (slightly earthy) comes to the base with it and a good portion of citrus-fresh vetiver. So then the fragrance sounds out after 5 to 6 hours, as it began: mild, gently spiced, well-groomed. On textile he holds out a little longer.
I wondered for a long time what that should have to do now exactly with a riding crop, before I read the illuminating comment of Profumo to the EdP. Now it is clear, this is the reformulated Cravache, newly launched in 2007. The original Cravache I unfortunately do not know, in this version here I find the name a bit out of place, at Reitgerte I think of something sharper, more tart and yes, leather would not hurt there either. Nevertheless, this version is also quite a successful fragrance, which incidentally over the entire course strongly reminds me of Castle Forbes 1445, which is identical in the base in my opinion.
He dwelled in a damp cave deep under one of the high mountains. The lighting was gloomy and in the corners it was already moldy. His favorite foods were cheese and small animals, which he caught and grilled on his huge charcoal grill, fur and all. In addition, he drank sour wine and stale beer, and so the little troll smelled and liked it. His most prized possession was an old leather riding crop he had once found. It was almost as big as he was and he always had it with him. That's why he was called...but no! His name could not be pronounced, that brought bad luck!
He came mostly only at night from his cave. Therefore, the people in the village barricaded their doors and closed the shutters of the windows, as soon as the sun went down. Because they feared him, he was always so ill-tempered and mean. Only sometimes he came out during the day. Then he liked to scare little children, that gave him pleasure.
One day a dear little fairy flew by. She was actually already in closing time, but she saw the tired, bad-tempered troll and wanted to put him out of his misery. So she flew to him and said:
'So, you tired little troll, your ill-temperedness can't be seen, I'll make you a present so that you can be cheerful again!'
The troll grumbled: 'I have not invited you into my cave, you winged bimbo, and anyway, what about my three wishes!'
That with the floozy overheard the dear fairy flissfully and said: 'I'm already closing time, the wishes you can forget, you get one thing that you really, really urgently need and not some tinnef you wish!'
With that, she waved her squeaky pink fairy wand, scattered some fairy magic powder, and with a quiet, friendly plop, she was gone. On the table was a small black bottle for it.
great, and now who's going to clean up all this powder mess?" the troll called after her. It was now but not so that a bit of fairy powder would have been further noticed in the müffeligem mess of the cave.
The small troll looked at the bottle sullenly and rejected it already on principle, although it was as beautifully black as his soul. Of course, he could not control his curiosity for long and opened it. And suddenly there were mild citrus fruits and fresh green, as juicy as the sunrise. He had seen it once, even if only briefly, because he was afraid that he might find it beautiful and disappeared into his cave. The scent, however, continued to waft around him; fresh, green, spicy, gentle, and he hardly dared to think, cultivated. Only a very small bit of earth was still to be guessed. Slowly, the corners of his mouth moved upward. It crunched softly and also hurt a little, his face was not used to such things. Indeed, he smiled! If also somewhat crookedly.
Soon he was known as the friendly little troll, people were no longer afraid of him and even the children liked him. He always smelled well-groomed and looked increasingly so. Old, hunchbacked and not nice to look at, he still was. He no longer had his riding crop with him.
And if now a stranger at the cave of the troll comes past, jumps this joy-beaming on him and calls:
'Grüzi, i bin der Grawasch, magst ein Stückl Greyerzer?'
--------------------
This Cravache starts with a medium-fresh lemon note, which is designed by the tangerine very juicy-fruity. With it is also immediately a gentle herbaceous lavender, soft, not too sweet, without any flowers. It's all very gentle and mildly pleasant. While the citrus quickly dissipates, a good portion of sage comes in. This spices up the nevertheless quite mild lavender a bit, as does the nutmeg, which provides very light brown, but also ethereal-spicy tips. From here on, a dry woody note runs through the rest of the scent and I think I perceive a very slight cinnamon. Thus, the fragrance remains quite long, before a very little patch (slightly earthy) comes to the base with it and a good portion of citrus-fresh vetiver. So then the fragrance sounds out after 5 to 6 hours, as it began: mild, gently spiced, well-groomed. On textile he holds out a little longer.
I wondered for a long time what that should have to do now exactly with a riding crop, before I read the illuminating comment of Profumo to the EdP. Now it is clear, this is the reformulated Cravache, newly launched in 2007. The original Cravache I unfortunately do not know, in this version here I find the name a bit out of place, at Reitgerte I think of something sharper, more tart and yes, leather would not hurt there either. Nevertheless, this version is also quite a successful fragrance, which incidentally over the entire course strongly reminds me of Castle Forbes 1445, which is identical in the base in my opinion.
44 Comments
Translated
Show original
Call me captain
He was standing on his bridge when it started, and it started innocently enough. Whales were swimming at some distance next to the Miss Fortune, not so unusual for these waters. One of the whales came closer, spraying its spray, and suddenly it smelled quite strange. Fresh and spicy, of lemons and some tobacco, but mostly of sweet, strong rum. The men, of course, immediately flocked to the railing; the morning ration had been over an hour ago. Only Pavlov, the ship's dog, was quietly hiding behind a roll of rope.
Shortly after, the whale rammed them the first time. A good dozen men went overboard and paddled in the sea. But only briefly, because the monster came back and pulled them under the water. No one surfaced again.
So it went for hours now: each new attack was preceded by a wave of good smells, as if to taunt them. In the case of an attack, it was spicy flowers and dry wood, the latter of which might have come from the splintered main mast. The poor devils who hoisted the main sail didn't care. Hard to say who had it worse, those who fell into the water or those who landed on the deck.
Now, just 3 hours after it had started, there wasn't much left of the once beautiful Miss Fortune. The captain guessed that the next attack would be the last, and that's when he saw the cloud of spray. Only this time it wasn't just spray, something gray, misshapen, large came flying towards him in a high arc. Again it smelled damn good, spicy, resinous, a little smoky and just slightly vanilla. Oh great, thought the captain, I'll just die under a ton of whale vomit. Then it went dark...
... and he woke up drenched in sweat. Next to him was the book in which he had previously read. What a nightmare-inducing piece of trash. Herman Melville, surely another one of those fake Frenchmen. He was about to throw it out the window into the sea when he had an idea. It was already beautifully bound in leather and printed on fine paper. The captain jammed the thick book under his arm and shuffled towards the lavatory.
--------------------
The noble man opens with fruity, but not too fresh citrus. The fresh component comes to my mind rather by the ginger, which harmonizes very well with the spicy notes (cardamom is very well met here). A little tobacco resonates as well. The whole is sweet, but for me still okay. After 5 minutes, however, a strong rum note comes into the fragrance and that pushes him then unfortunately over my personal sweet limit.
When reading the pyramid I had also expected so. What I had also expected is that the fragrance to the base is successively even sweeter or at least maintains the initial sweetness. But it does not, with receding the rum note, the sweetness decreases again and has arrived after about an hour again in my tolerable range (the rum remains recognizable, but is no longer scent-determining). Before that, flowers enter the fragrance, but they remain discreetly in the background. Rose geranium and jasmine I would let apply, but they are not clearly recognizable for me. Dry wood is also recognizable, but even here I would not have guessed sandalwood.
Towards the base, the fragrance becomes a bit fresher. Ginger, pepper and perhaps some moss draw responsible for this. This freshness and the woody notes give me the impression of a cedar and not sandalwood. Doesn't matter of course, I prefer it anyway. The almost inevitable MGO vanilla resin base also plays a role here, but is very subtle, especially as far as the vanilla is concerned. And here I recognize also times something amber; spicy, slightly smoky, warm.
From Noble Man one has long what, the environment, however, only the first hour, then he withdraws strongly. So you can enjoy the fading of the (few) vanilla and only a nice mixture of slightly fruity amber and spicy-smoky amber with some wood remains.
If it weren't for the somewhat exuberant sweetness of the rum in the first hour, it would be a pretty perfect scent for me. However, it seems to no longer exist anyway, at least it can not be found on the MGO site (but on eBay). Who has a higher sweetness tolerance, should test the...
Shortly after, the whale rammed them the first time. A good dozen men went overboard and paddled in the sea. But only briefly, because the monster came back and pulled them under the water. No one surfaced again.
So it went for hours now: each new attack was preceded by a wave of good smells, as if to taunt them. In the case of an attack, it was spicy flowers and dry wood, the latter of which might have come from the splintered main mast. The poor devils who hoisted the main sail didn't care. Hard to say who had it worse, those who fell into the water or those who landed on the deck.
Now, just 3 hours after it had started, there wasn't much left of the once beautiful Miss Fortune. The captain guessed that the next attack would be the last, and that's when he saw the cloud of spray. Only this time it wasn't just spray, something gray, misshapen, large came flying towards him in a high arc. Again it smelled damn good, spicy, resinous, a little smoky and just slightly vanilla. Oh great, thought the captain, I'll just die under a ton of whale vomit. Then it went dark...
... and he woke up drenched in sweat. Next to him was the book in which he had previously read. What a nightmare-inducing piece of trash. Herman Melville, surely another one of those fake Frenchmen. He was about to throw it out the window into the sea when he had an idea. It was already beautifully bound in leather and printed on fine paper. The captain jammed the thick book under his arm and shuffled towards the lavatory.
--------------------
The noble man opens with fruity, but not too fresh citrus. The fresh component comes to my mind rather by the ginger, which harmonizes very well with the spicy notes (cardamom is very well met here). A little tobacco resonates as well. The whole is sweet, but for me still okay. After 5 minutes, however, a strong rum note comes into the fragrance and that pushes him then unfortunately over my personal sweet limit.
When reading the pyramid I had also expected so. What I had also expected is that the fragrance to the base is successively even sweeter or at least maintains the initial sweetness. But it does not, with receding the rum note, the sweetness decreases again and has arrived after about an hour again in my tolerable range (the rum remains recognizable, but is no longer scent-determining). Before that, flowers enter the fragrance, but they remain discreetly in the background. Rose geranium and jasmine I would let apply, but they are not clearly recognizable for me. Dry wood is also recognizable, but even here I would not have guessed sandalwood.
Towards the base, the fragrance becomes a bit fresher. Ginger, pepper and perhaps some moss draw responsible for this. This freshness and the woody notes give me the impression of a cedar and not sandalwood. Doesn't matter of course, I prefer it anyway. The almost inevitable MGO vanilla resin base also plays a role here, but is very subtle, especially as far as the vanilla is concerned. And here I recognize also times something amber; spicy, slightly smoky, warm.
From Noble Man one has long what, the environment, however, only the first hour, then he withdraws strongly. So you can enjoy the fading of the (few) vanilla and only a nice mixture of slightly fruity amber and spicy-smoky amber with some wood remains.
If it weren't for the somewhat exuberant sweetness of the rum in the first hour, it would be a pretty perfect scent for me. However, it seems to no longer exist anyway, at least it can not be found on the MGO site (but on eBay). Who has a higher sweetness tolerance, should test the...
52 Comments
Translated
Show original
End and beginning
The Count sits at his desk, the green leather desk pad empty except for a sheet of paper, and looks out of the window. The weather is beautiful, unusually warm for the time of year. It is November 10, 1918, and yesterday they actually did it, proclaimed the republic, a fall from grace. Today, the masses are crowding the streets, celebrating and chanting. The fools. The mob repels them, but at least they can't be heard here. The geraniums and a few roses are still in bloom. The sun shines on them, bright and friendly, as if to mock him. The smell coming through the open window doesn't fit in with his gloomy thoughts either: sweet, gentle and spicy, slightly like damp earth, like the first harbingers of autumn. Disgusted, he closes the window.
He opens the bottom drawer of the desk. There it lies, the nickel-plated surface gleaming silvery, the mother-of-pearl of the handle shimmering elegantly. It lies heavy in his hand, his father's old revolver, six chambers filled with death or perhaps salvation. The hammer snaps into place with an inviting click. Is this the solution?
He puts it back and opens the window. He wants to enjoy the mild air once more. We'll see what the future brings. The bottom drawer is never locked.
----------------------
Aristocrat from the MGO is fortunately not just for aristocrats. But it does have something distinguished and noble about it, although I expressly do not want to ascribe these qualities to the aristocracy then and especially not today.
Although this Aristocrat was released in 2016, its design is so classic that it could easily be 100 years older, at least in terms of the (fragrance) principle. It focuses on rose geranium, even if a small rose can be detected from time to time. Together with a little nutmeg, it forms the starting point: gentle, sweet, slightly fresh and pleasantly (subtly) spicy. There is a slight sweetness and something subtly resinous. This is soon supported by fresh, light green vetiver and later a slightly earthy note from the patch, which is also rather light in color. Only in the base does the fragrance become more tart, although this is only a snapshot, as there is also some vanilla and resin (I don't recognize ambergris here, but amber). Like the entire fragrance, the vanilla is used discreetly here and, for once, doesn't bother me. Although it becomes a little more pronounced as the fragrance progresses, it remains within limits.
Rose geranium is one of the few flowers that I like, but I prefer the tart, spicy version, such as in Marlborough by Trumper. Like here (sweet-floral, soft-spicy) and then with a vanilla-amber base, I shouldn't really like it. The fact that I still like Aristokrat is due to the quality of Mr. Staudt's composition: dense and yet clear, delicate, light and pleasantly restrained. In my opinion, this makes the fragrance wearable all year round. Will it last in the long run? We'll see what the future brings.
He opens the bottom drawer of the desk. There it lies, the nickel-plated surface gleaming silvery, the mother-of-pearl of the handle shimmering elegantly. It lies heavy in his hand, his father's old revolver, six chambers filled with death or perhaps salvation. The hammer snaps into place with an inviting click. Is this the solution?
He puts it back and opens the window. He wants to enjoy the mild air once more. We'll see what the future brings. The bottom drawer is never locked.
----------------------
Aristocrat from the MGO is fortunately not just for aristocrats. But it does have something distinguished and noble about it, although I expressly do not want to ascribe these qualities to the aristocracy then and especially not today.
Although this Aristocrat was released in 2016, its design is so classic that it could easily be 100 years older, at least in terms of the (fragrance) principle. It focuses on rose geranium, even if a small rose can be detected from time to time. Together with a little nutmeg, it forms the starting point: gentle, sweet, slightly fresh and pleasantly (subtly) spicy. There is a slight sweetness and something subtly resinous. This is soon supported by fresh, light green vetiver and later a slightly earthy note from the patch, which is also rather light in color. Only in the base does the fragrance become more tart, although this is only a snapshot, as there is also some vanilla and resin (I don't recognize ambergris here, but amber). Like the entire fragrance, the vanilla is used discreetly here and, for once, doesn't bother me. Although it becomes a little more pronounced as the fragrance progresses, it remains within limits.
Rose geranium is one of the few flowers that I like, but I prefer the tart, spicy version, such as in Marlborough by Trumper. Like here (sweet-floral, soft-spicy) and then with a vanilla-amber base, I shouldn't really like it. The fact that I still like Aristokrat is due to the quality of Mr. Staudt's composition: dense and yet clear, delicate, light and pleasantly restrained. In my opinion, this makes the fragrance wearable all year round. Will it last in the long run? We'll see what the future brings.
40 Comments
