Rickthedog

For a long time, I contemplated whether I should get myself a 70s fragrance again. I have tested the fragrance line from those years several times and had actually moved on from it. Nevertheless, this Grey Flannel wouldn't leave me alone.
I had often seen the bottle, which I somehow liked for its simplicity. My sister mentioned a certain resemblance to a wine bottle (I had to admit she was right). I found it interesting that this fragrance is also available in a liter bottle - one might suspect that GF is also used as a room scent. Now I held the bottle in my hand and was curious about which spirit I would release from it.
At first, I found myself in a flower house. I could vividly see the blossoms sailing through the air and was reminded of Jürgen von der Lippe's song about the flower man. Amazing things happened in the flower house over the next half hour: daffodil, violet, and geranium wafted around. Basically, I'm not really into overly floral scents, but this one was bearable for my nose despite its assertiveness. Later, the overwhelming floral cloud receded in favor of a slightly soapy cleanliness, which I find very pleasant.
I had to try Mr. Beene twice in two days to be sure that I still liked it with repeated use and that it wasn't just a passing fancy of mine.
Yes, I do enjoy it. And no, it wasn't just a whim of mine.
He is no longer the youngest and hasn't been present in the current fragrance trends for a long time. Nevertheless, he has become a timeless spirit, and that's probably why he still exists.
I will keep him and let him out of his bottle from time to time to be surrounded by blossoms. For some noses, he may be unbearable, but for mine, he is interesting and good.

The bottle is the program. From the spout, a fresh, initially very citrusy scent emerges after a single press. It's not really unpleasant for my nose. After the citrus-orange fades, I perceive a comparatively soft coniferous scent that is slightly sweet underneath.
It has quite a long-lasting presence, the Pino. In my opinion, it only shares its last name with the fragrance twin mentioned here. Its real twin, from my perspective, is more like Aqua di Selva. It is also a forest representative, but with more piney notes and less longevity.
I can't say what the formulation was like in its original state. I've been dancing around the Pino for a while, but I couldn't get excited about it.
Wearing it now in the still waning winter is hard for me to imagine. It is an absolute summer scent.
Hot evenings after even hotter days are its thing. I immediately picture shorts, a shirt, and espadrilles when I think of Pino. Some may call it a watery mess or pine needle bath additive, for me it means vacation and relaxation. Perhaps a vacation in Corsica... but not this year.
It may not be great art, but it is definitely solid and quirky.
And for a blind buy, it's not bad (especially since I already had an idea of what was coming!). I think I will take it with me to Lanzarote in the summer, as there are no forests there, and this way I can bring it in the form of Pino.

The Irresistible...
La Yuqawam means "irresistible" in Arabic (Yes, I looked it up since I don't speak Arabic, let alone can read it).
I can only agree: This Hiiiimbeere and the Leeeder! And: the Preiiiis...
It has a devilish allure for my nose and my wallet.
Where did I find it? Well, where else: Here on parfumo.de.
Basically, I was looking for something completely different and stumbled upon the Irresistible during my research for something else.
I like to orient myself by the section "Users who like XXXX also often like:".
So far, this has been a guarantee for blind purchases that I wouldn't completely crash with the item bought blindly.
And so it was here. I ordered the 75 ml bottle on a whim. Then HE came!
Nobly packaged in a dark brown stained wooden box, the top part is securely closed by four magnets embedded in the lid. Inside the box, there it stands, the Irresistible.
By the handle (the cap is also wood), you pull it out and then it begins:

1. The raspberry (for a brief moment, you get the impression that the surrounding air turns reddish)
2a. Oriental sounds fill... No, no, just kidding: That only played out in my head
2b. With every step, the raspberry still wafts around you.
3. Then it weakens - after about 1 hour, perhaps?
4. Fruity smoke with leathery undertones forms. And remains with almost endless longevity.
It easily lasts beyond the 10th hour.

I am delighted! In spirit, I sit on a flying carpet and soar through a thousand and one nights.
I cannot decipher thyme (and I don't know Davana), so strong is the fruity-smoky-leathery note.
It is, as its name says: Irresistible.

The Norn arrived in a small test bottle (thanks to Puck1 for that).
Upon the admittedly impatient opening of the cap, the Norn immediately showed me that she appreciates patience more and spread a bit on my white T-shirt. Damn! Now I could see her color - a slightly toxic green - on my shirt!
And immediately smell the stubbornness of the Norn.
At first, I thought of an old, supposed health tonic, also called "Swedish herbs."
Wild herb forest, piercing and unusual for my nose. The following
conversation unfolded with my (imagined) Valkyrie.
“Damn it! Look at how I look now...”
“Impatient troll. It seems to me that besides your impatience, you are also afflicted
with a god-mocking clumsiness!”
“You have to admit that I let you out under difficult circumstances, right?
“Difficult circumstances? Sheer greed. You want to take advantage of my innocence!”
“Now wait a minute...”
“No excuses, you worthless fool! Know, however, that I know how to defend myself!”
“Innocence! Pff... Everyone knows that your kind has already fooled around with Siegfried!”
“He was at least a hero. Strong, athletic, handsome...”
“Well, thanks a lot, you Xanthippe!”
“Leave my relatives out of this!”

Quickly, I took off my T-shirt and immediately threw it into the hot wash to prevent further fuss. That showed her.
However... the scent captivated me, Siegfried in the making. Herbal scent, bitter and somehow untamed. In the mirror, I suddenly saw that my hairstyle had changed. A mane!
Cement sack! I hadn't had anything like that in 30 years! My wrinkles... gone!
Where is that stuff? More... I need MORE!
Reopening the bottle. This time slowly and with dedication. A drop carefully on my wrist.
“Uh...”
“What are you babbling about?”
“I want to offer you peace.”
“Ah. Surrender! Weakling!”
“Wait. Look: hair, wrinkle-free, athletic...”
“Uh-huh. So I see sparse hair growth, furrows on the face and...”
“Shut up!!!”

A little later. The situation has calmed down, I haven’t looked in the mirror anymore, and the Norn has become milder (unfortunately only a bit).

“Can we agree on some peace? I actually like you...”
“Hah! But, well. You are not a Siegfried and will never become one.
But I admit, despite your clumsiness and delusions, you fit quite well with me. Maybe as a lackey!”
“Ugh! I give up...”
The Norn continued to attack and nag at me for quite a while, but -
I’ll be damned if I don’t find a bottle somewhere.
Apparently, I am a masochist (sniffle!)

On the recommendation of Burberry (Junior), I was to visit his old man Burberrys at his house in Belgravia, London. I had met Burberry (Junior) some time ago in a Berlin nightclub (admittedly, he was quite tipsy and even harder to understand!) and took the opportunity to ask about the whereabouts of his old man. So the Junior arranged an audience with the old Burberrys in London Belgravia. I was excited. I was going to meet a legend. Finally! My taxi dropped me off in front of the imposing entrance, and after I managed to climb the huge staircase to the entrance (which probably resembles a castle gate), I reached for the door knocker. Knock knock knock.
After what felt like an eternity, an ancient, somewhat senile butler let me in (he first led me into a storage room until he realized his mistake) and draped me in a gigantic salon (from the Thirties? of the 17th century?).
And then HE came!
Burberrys in full life size! Elegant in a light gray double-breasted suit with a jacket (unfortunately with an overly bright green tie - British, after all) and - (oh dear) - with brown house slippers! (Ugh, what a turn-off for my awe). Gray, almost white hair without even a thinning spot (envy!). On his sharply drawn face, a very dominant graying mustache.
Burberrys: You, uh, are?
me: R. from DE. I am pleased to meet you, Sir.
(He gives me a firm nuanced handshake - just before the pain threshold. Now he reminds me more of an old British colonial colonel.)
Burberrys: Uh, yes... Mr. R from DE. My ah Junior has already announced you. Please - uh - sit down.
Would you like a drink? I have an excellent - uh - mint liqueur here?
(Without waiting for an answer from me, he turns to the door) Arthur? Arthur... Bring this - uh - gentleman a glass of the '81 - you know - uh uh -.
I: Thank you very much, Sir. May I ask you something?
Burberrys: Uh, sure, Mr. N?
I: No R., Sir! How did the S at the end of your name come about?
Burberrys: Ah... In the time when I was still a bit more active, it was considered -uh- noble to extend one's family name with this letter - uh uh -. Today it basically only stands for "Senior".
(Or for senile, forms in my head. Arthur comes in and sets down two huge glasses, in which a puddle of green stuff swirls)
Burberrys: Thank you, Arthur.
(turning to me)
Burberrys: Cheers, Mr. M.
I: Cheers, Sir.
(Urgh.. Mint and - wait, juniper?)
I: This is quite good, Sir!
(Lie!)
Burberrys: Yes, isn't it? It is made exclusively for me by a very well-known liqueur manufacturer - uh-. Did you occasionally - uh - know that I have a - uh - very respectable garden?
I: No. Are you a hobby gardener?
(How boring. British cliché fulfilled!)
Burberrys: Oh, I wouldn't go that far. I have very capable gardeners who cultivate a - uh - select variety of plants under my guidance - uh-.. But see for yourself, Mr. - uh - F.
(He rises and leads me to a large glass door that opens into a park-like garden. My gaze falls on a branched tree with fleshy leaves)
Burberrys: Beautiful, isn't it? This sandalwood tree from - uh - Ceylon. Isn't it a gem? I was honored to receive it from His Excellency the King. Back when - uh - Ceylon still belonged to us... The good old days indeed.
I: How right you are, Sir.
(Flattery)
I: You also have a herb corner, as I can't help but notice?
(Corner is no expression: A field full of lavender, pepper plants, and juniper bushes. Well, where the pepper grows...)
Burberrys: You can't do without it these days - uh -. Basically, I cultivate the best lavender plants in the world - uh uh -.
I: And in between juniper?
(A probing look over the curling mustache falls on me like a ton of mercury)
Burberry: What do you mean - uh? Juniper? That's for gin... I - uh - like to have a gin now and then and let my ration be distilled here - uh - a habit from my - uh - military days.
(So indeed: A colonial colonel and a drunkard to boot! Probably already in India during Queen Victoria's time)
I: And back there? The little corner with the carnations, roses, marjoram, jasmine?
(A critical look sweeps over me. The left eyebrow arches up)
Burberrys: My gardener said it would fit color-wise into the - uh - picture. Doesn't it fit, Mr. - uh - ?
I: Yes, yes. Wonderful. It rounds off the garden.
Burberrys: Let's go back inside. I have a - uh - lounge there.
(We go back into his palace and through a few corridors into a much smaller dark room)
Burberrys: Please - uh - have a seat. The leather armchairs are still from my time in - uh - India...
(So indeed: a colonial uncle! On the other hand: Nice furniture, pleasant smell, and comfortable to boot.)
I: You were in India? How interesting. It must have been warm there..
(I couldn't have asked him anything more stupid. India and warm - Does the bear shit in the woods?)
Burberrys: You wouldn't - uh - believe how warm! I was also in Russia, after the - uh - Crimean War. There I hunted musk animals. A whole different - uh - climate. Do you see those little funny heads over there by the - uh uh - fireplace? I shot all of them - uh -.
(Oops, a small animal killer too. I need to get out of here...)
I: Looking at the time, Sir, please tell me why you have withdrawn.
(A sad look from dachshund eyes sweeps over me, a twitch around the mustache... Nanana, is the old man getting sentimental?)
Burberrys: Uh, you know, the - uh - times have become so fast-paced. No one has time anymore to devote themselves - uh - to the nicer sides of life. Even - uh - you, Mr. D, look - uh - very often at your - uh - timepiece. This - uh - eternal hustle and bustle does not suit me - uh - and is not compatible with my dignity - uh -.

I said goodbye to the old Burberrys, not without feeling a bit sorry for him, the great old man. A bit crazy, excitable, and out of touch with the times, but in his time he was fully on top.
I like him. And maybe he will dare to step out of his palace again - hopefully without a gun.