Ooonidda

Saba captivated me with her transformation. The surprise and charm of Saba is extraordinary and manages to tease you before revealing her full beauty.

When I spray it on, Saba jumps into my nose with lavender, flanked by bergamot, and takes me by surprise. Definitely fougere, the slight bitterness of coffee can be felt, the fragrance is tart and tangy. Overwhelmed, I let the wonderful-looking queen rest for a few minutes.

After a few moments, she decides to stop throwing bergamot at me and whipping a sprig of lavender, she becomes spicier, the spice is dominated by the cedar and only slightly by the spices, it gets warm and the coffee unfolds on my skin. Now we can sit down and enjoy a warm spiced coffee and snack on some licorice too.

Saba teasingly reminds me of the wild start as the bergamot and lavender keep flashing through while it gets warmer, spicier and a little sweeter around us.

"Oh beautiful tonka and vanilla I want to wallow in you!"

Saba manages to interweave the coffee and the sweet components so beautifully with the fougere start and to catch up with the patch at the end that the coffee and the sweetness never turn the fragrance into a gourmand. Sometimes it is sweeter and warmer, then the lavender with the coffee comes more from the background, then the fine acidity teases you again and again.

For all those who enjoy their oriental notes with a certain twist and without being dominated by sweetness or oud.

Thanks to the sharing of MartialScent I could get hold of a sniff of Shaman and full of excitement I spray it on my forearm and wake up outside in the cold next to an almost extinguished, still smoldering fire. Amazed, unsuspecting and uncertain what awaits me and without a memory of what happened before.

Shaman opens tart, woody, cold and very smoky. I do not hear water lily or magnolia, I suppose they are just there for aromatic background. But maybe they were thrown into the fire last night, during the fire ceremony, which is just glowing out next to me. The larger logs and the main fire were extinguished by the moisture of the fog and the morning dew, and so the cold smoke and wood dominate.

The heart and base notes clear the fog and I realize I am in a forest clearing. It is autumn, to the freshness and cleanliness of the forest, I guess it is the juniper, mixes a pleasant heavy. It is the scent of November morning, the cool freshness and pleasant earthiness of the forest.

I wear leather clothing, suede, rigid, strong suede, not velvety soft leather gloves. Rather, it is a heavy suede coat. The leather has been little processed, it is rigid and has its own aroma, it should protect and insulate, not be an accessory. My clothes smell of last night's fire and something warm-balsamic comes through, but only subtly and distantly. Has the shaman thrown about an iris with in the fire?

Who was I before? Who am I now?
The shaman has performed the fire ceremony and I met my wild ancestors at the fire in the forest, now I am alone again. A strange excitement and silence are in the air. We after a wild dream. I breathe deeply and enjoy the smoldering fire. The excitement and the scent calm down, but the smoke note remains and lingers a little on my skin.

It has been a hot summer day on the Black Sea, the smell of the sea water is strong and warm-algig. To the evening it has briefly stormed and the sea has become wilder, it is now fresher.
The nearby flower beds and shrubs are steaming out their warm, sweet scent, the night bloomers are opening, their aroma in the air. I sit on a cliff in the park, in my freshly washed shirt and stare out to sea, the scent of fresh laundry mixing lightly with the fresh sweat while the drops run down my back. I smell them all, the flowers the salty-algid sea air and it's beautiful and stuffy-meaty and fresh at the same time.

I'm in love you smell like a summer in the homeland by the sea, not citrusy spicy like in southern Europe on the Mediterranean or fresh cool on the wilder Atlantic, it's more the Black Sea coast not so glamorous, not so clean and noisy. Rather quiet, herbaceous, flowery, salty and slightly seaweedy. Not a big tourist resort, more like a small town with a park with many flowerbeds still created in the USSR. There we sit in the evening, close to the sea, on the cliff, in the flower haze and the first, just so fresher breeze after a hot day creeps in.

Thanks to Highcell for the sample and the oil factor home.

Addendum: the warm, close-to-the-body, carnal note was already familiar to me and the animalic in an aquatic is already familiar to me from Fleuve Tendre - Eau Imaginaire Liquides Imaginaires, also by Sonia Constant. It just could not be a coincidence, after a brief research comes the correction: It is not the broom bush in the heart note but the broom cat! Therefore, the corperlichkeit and warmth I perceive which comes across as a fermented algae for others ;)

The melancholy and coziness of the last warm autumn afternoon. This is the memory Cierge de Lune awakens in me.
It is not exceptionally loud, nor is it groundbreakingly new or even experimental. It is beautiful and gentle and impossibly comforting and melancholy at the same time.

At the beginning, it is sweetly spicy but not yet spicy. The crystal chord does not open up to me, I can not classify him, but imagine the fresh effervescence, which cuts through the normality of everyday air as soon as you spray him on it may well be.
Then follows the pepper with the flower. A softness and spiciness that softens the sweetness of the vanilla, they do not come one after the other but together as a floral creamy gently gourmand cloud. The spice is not cutting, not characteristic, it catches much more the vanilla and does not make it sweet like a pastry but gives it seriousness.

After a while, the base notes blend in quite subtly. I have almost forgotten my wrist and now wonder what seems so beautifully familiar here, so soft and warm and so subtly melancholic. It's the combination of the cleanliness of the musk, the melancholy of the incense and the cozy familiarity of the suede. The vanilla is still there caressing the base notes perhaps it is also the amber it is a subtle warmth that now prevails a sad warmth.

It is the last warm day of autumn you can smell the cold in the distance while the sun just warms you. The memory of summer and flowers is already distant, the sun is warm and yellow and radiant, the suede coat smells familiar in the sun and the melancholy of the blue hour seam.

Somehow I can't get Hermann à mes côtés me paraissait une ombre by ELdO out of my head while I'm sniffing my wrist.

At first, une Amourete is very tart, as some have said before me, medicinal. The fine cardamom is clearly defeated by the pink pepper. But then suddenly something warm shimmers through the herbaceous, tart start. It is the iris, which immediately pushes the peach forward. It is oily, heavy, sticky and creamy, like a peach sweet that has become warm in your handbag and sticks to the paper when you unwrap it. It becomes earthy in the background, the start mixes with the earthy note and you don't know where the cardamom-pepper-neroli ends and the patchouli begins. Sticky sweet and earthy cool and soft and the slightly powdery iris soon settle down, it is the vanilla and the woody note that have now arrived.
The opposites merge and combine. The woody note unites the wild mixture and goes perfectly with the powdery, sweet and dark and the earthy and tart. I don't really notice the vanilla, but it makes the whole thing round and warm. The theme is spot on - a wild meeting of two opposites, effervescent and willful and yet harmoniously united.
A strange, captivating fragrance I can't get away from my wrist for 2 days, it tends towards the masculine, my skin initially prefers the tart and not the powdery, but the warmth and sweetness come to light as soon as you stop and pause, the autumn scent is found.

Let's come back to Hermann, I understand my association better after a quick look, pepper and patch the cold earthy spicy of Hermann can also be found here, but this fragrance is wilder, warmer, closer to the body.
The melancholic Hermann probably went on a date with a peach sweet in his mouth to cheer him up and an iris in his hand as a flirtation attempt and was successful.