Petapane

I got the scent during a souk purchase. Thanks to Deimos for the quick shipping and the great samples.

Of course, I had to test it right away and am now seriously considering whether I should dress up as a toilet block for Carnival. After all, I would have the matching scent, wouldn’t I?

There would definitely be a great risk of confusion for hordes of drunk people.

Sounds pretty sobering at first glance, buuut!

Toilet blocks do have their right to exist. Without them, some places would smell significantly worse, that much is certain. Citrus fruits are apparently commonly associated with cleanliness and freshness. This seems to be an instinct, and so people cheerfully pour citrus freshness into cleaning products. It can be detrimental for perfumistas, buuut!

Here we go.
Conversely, this scent is a cleaning product for the skin.
Fresh, clean, pure. Agua Fresca indeed.

What it also is?
Unfortunately, nonexistent on my skin. Even for an Eau de Toilette, the performance is quite weak. However, it performs rather well on clothing. On my skin, I can only perceive the lemony, zesty top note. On clothing, something green and herbal joins in, with juniper dominating.

I think I’ll skip the carnival costume due to the mentioned source of danger.

But perhaps the purchase will pay off in another way. A spray or two of Agua Fresca on the wardrobe, and you can save yourself the dry cleaning.

The clever way to wash!

We are in the year 1135 BC. A group of brave men, led by King Odysseus, sets out on the journey home after a bitter battle for Troy. Battle-scarred. The worst seemed to be behind them, yet dangers lay ahead that no one could foresee.

Well. My journey is not 3000 years old, and probably no one will write a book about it. So be it. Like in Homer's epic, I too was to be sent on a journey. A journey that was to last many years, seemed endless, and brought numerous uncertainties.

My journey was in search of the ultimate aquatic scent. Not so easy, considering how broadly this theme can be interpreted. I will largely limit myself to rough, salty sea fragrances and ignore classic summer scents.

With many fragrances in this category that I was able to test, one question kept coming up.

"Are these fragrances even wearable?" I ask, why not?
"Yes, brackish water smells interesting, but as a perfume?" Of course!

As long as I feel secure and the perfume allows me to indulge in memories - brings a smile to my face and with every spray ignites that youthful enthusiasm, as if it were Christmas morning and the presents were about to be opened.

But this was not to be the only adversity of my adventure.

I also encountered sirens.
In the form of eager perfume saleswomen who whispered all sorts of enchanting things in my ear. And for a moment, they managed to cloud my senses.

With Seathalasso, for example. But then I managed to free myself from the clutches of the beast and, stumbling out of the Douglas store, regained my senses. Algae, yes, but too synthetic, too citrusy, more industrial harbor. I'd rather set sail. Weigh anchor also meant for me with Toni Gard's Seaside. Sure, it was fresh and summery, but it didn't come close to meeting my expectations. And a bride in every port? Out of the question.

Continuing my voyage, a green coast lay before me. Green Irish Tweed. A brilliant companion for autumn, but it doesn't remind me of the beach. At some point, it will probably find its way into my own collection. There was land, but the wrong harbor. So back into the boat and away from Ireland.

I wanted to set sail, and what was missing? The wind! Acqua di Portofino's Sail can't change that much. A bit one-dimensional, and somehow the air was out.

I rowed out and had covered some miles on the open sea. Land was not in sight. I fished. Finally, there was some fish between the gills; I was exhausted, drained, almost starving. What species was on the menu? Sel Marin. Delicious, but not quite fresh, the fish.

Despite the snack, I temporarily lost my balance and fell overboard. When I hoisted myself back over the railing, a scent wafted into my nose; I smelled like Santa Eulalia's Marinis.

Logbook entry Day 452. I was stranded again, my God. Why me? Well. At least land. How the hell did I end up in the Caribbean? Virgin Island Water. Brilliant. Still, I repair my boat with coconut palm wood and throw myself back into the current. After all, I was not home.

The principle of chance threw me directly into the arms of Medusa. Medusa has many faces, and yet I avoided eye contact. Never look her in the eyes; you will turn to stone. One face of Medusa is Silver Mountain Water. If you don't stay vigilant, you get lost somewhere in the boredom between heart and base. I almost looked, then I closed the bag. No interest. I had a similar experience with the candidate from the far north - Shelter Island. Similar course, different base.

Then there was Poseidon. Poseidon simply refuses to disappear into the depths of the sea. No, Poseidon is omnipresent. Everyone must measure themselves against Poseidon, and Poseidon will be a constant companion. He always pulls you back into the sea, even when you want to stay dry.
His pseudonym? Acqua di Sale.

Speaking of dry. I was once again in the mood for landfall. Recharge. Restock supplies. And there I found it. An island I didn't want to leave. The island of the nymphs. They wanted to keep me there. They seduced me. The scents were so enchanting. Paradise has a name - Ichnusa.
But I left. I chose against this place. Maybe I'll return one day when the budget allows.

In the meantime, I could no longer count the days at sea. I think I got seasick. I must have seen 3000 sunrises, yet I never saw homeland. Morning dawned, a new day broke, and I was bracing for another disappointment. Am I dreaming?

*Salina by Laboratorio Olfattivo.*

Euphoria! Relief! I see land! I shout "Land ho!" No one hears it; I don't care. This is home! I was home.

The heart note reminds me of Acqua di Sale. Remember? Unlike the latter, Salina develops and dares to venture close to the coast. The opening is citrusy and somewhat biting, briefly wood in between. Then the pure seawater makes high waves, and in the base, soft vanilla pulses. Upon closer smelling, almost like sunscreen at the beach. The longevity is worse than PR's saltwater, and the sillage dissipates faster, but the scent is more balanced, not nearly as intrusive due to the variety, also more surprising, vacation-ready. Somehow contradictory. Almost like package tourism in St. Tropez. Expensive doesn't always seem better.

In principle, all the fragrances I've mentioned here have executed the theme very well, but until now, each has lacked magic. The magic of the beach. For me, Salina is that. Everything I have always sought.

And yet, the next adventure is already calling.
- During the odyssey, I also passed places that abruptly remained unexplored terrain. Montale's Sandflowers is among them, as is Louanges Profanes No. 19. Well, those are fragrances for another story. - No end in sight.

I was momentarily speechless. Today, Cuba Gold arrived at my doorstep, 4.88€ for 100ml, by the way, and it was immediately met with snide remarks. "Which sex shop did you get that thing from?!" was one of the friendlier comments. Well, those who suffer don’t need to worry about mockery. I certainly have the suffering, at least in terms of perfume, but I couldn't let that slide. Okay, the bottle is ugly. Checked off. I thought I’d spray it on myself so that they could follow these insults all the way home. So, I launched a counterattack full of enthusiasm, and lo and behold - the first mocking voices grew quieter. And when we then started talking about the price, they fell completely silent. And rightly so!
Yes, Cuba Gold is certainly not a fragrance that can compete with olfactory masterpieces; I know that at least since I’ve been delving deeper into perfumes. But there was a time before that. A time before Parfumo, a time when Boss Bottled ruled my world, and a time when "The Land Before Time" was still a tangible part of the TV program. It’s been a long time, but one thing I never had back then was Le Male. And I also left those suggestive silhouettes at Douglas behind, that was how it was back then. But I was curious. It didn’t quite reach Le Male, but the alternative wasn’t far off. Thanks to Parfumo.

As for the scent itself, I don’t really have much to say. Nice to have tried it. From vague memory, it reminds me in some facets of Boss Bottled, the signature scent of earlier times. The fragrance opens with a zesty freshness and then loses itself in the everyday. Probably also because this composition must be a recipe for success. What remains is an animalistically sweet men’s fragrance. Slightly woody and somehow hard to grasp. Yet it lingers on the wearer for a long time. It still holds on to my friends, and it will likely outlast subsequent generations. That’s what they get for their comments.
Cuba Gold prevails.

My nose is a capricious lover. First, it smells a fragrance and lets me know "this is good, you can buy it," and the next day it picks up something in its surroundings that ruins any further contact with the perfume.

This time it was Sail by Acqua di Portofino. Well, I must mention that it didn't knock me off my feet during the first test either, but I was looking for a dirty aquatic scent. Rough sea in a bottle, so to speak, because there are also those for boats. And what you se(a) is what you get.
Compared to others in the aquatic category, this one is, in my opinion, more synthetic and less long-lasting, but also one of the more affordable representatives.
Now, onto the second test. Summer was coming to an end, and I wanted to seize the moment to finally find my scent. I should preface this by saying that I had been at the dentist the morning before, as I had been dealing with an inflammation for weeks. Sail was supposed to make me forget that. Supposed to.

You think so.

I sprayed it on, and suddenly I find myself back at the dentist's office.
The opening is now immediately linked to a doctor's practice for me; something in it seems to create these parallels that had previously escaped me. I suspect it's the eucalyptus. At least that's what I smell. Koala food in formaldehyde. It's not so bad that I need to be referred to an ENT specialist right away, but there are certainly more pleasant interpretations. This note lingers for one or two hours until it makes the transition to something that actually smells quite nice. Then I smell exclusively herbal, salty seawater. Unfortunately, it's so close to the skin that it's not worth the dentist visit.
I consciously do not make any recommendations here, as everyone should have their own experiences, but if there are any dentists among us who have always wanted to merge with their practice, at least for a few hours, then this is your scent!

My first comment here and should it be a complete bust?
Well, not quite.

A few years ago, I stumbled upon Parfumo, collected all sorts of samples, and held everything possible under my nose - almost inhaled it. Always in the back of my mind, I could hear my former chemistry teacher saying, "We fan scents to ourselves."
Well, not quite.

Ignoring my chemistry teacher, I rummaged through my collection and found Profumum Roma's Ichnusa. And what did I do? I saw, I took, I inhaled. And there I was, catapulted into another world.
Well, not quite.

I was still sitting on the sofa. But as soon as I smell Ichnusa and close my eyes, I find myself in an oasis. I smell grass - so juicy and green. I smell exotic plants, and in the distance, I sense the sea.
This top note unfortunately doesn't last long for me. But even then, I simply feel secure with this scent. The grass becomes slightly smoky/woody, a bit more masculine. At the same time, a sweetness emerges, so soft and balanced that it is also wearable by men.

I must honestly admit that I tested this scent years ago, in search of a fragrance that would transport me to the sea. That's how it is with wanderlust.
Did it succeed?
Well, not quite.

Back then, I thought, "God, what a sensational opening." That was it, though; I didn't engage with it enough. This comment changed that, and I am grateful for this decision. At that time, I found this scent a bit overwhelming, couldn't say what it was, and packed it back into the drawer. Even today, I'm not sure; the note is still there, but
strangely enough, it no longer bothers me.
Well, not quite.

There are still people who are bothered by it. As luck would have it, my mother smelled the scent on me that day and simply replied, "What kind of muck do you have on? It smells like toilet cleaner."

Well then, so that is my oasis. No sea. More like a overgrown backyard in the heart of Naples. And apparently, someone has done their business on the house wall.