With something like this, I imagine, the still ignorant Emma Bovary would have washed her face on her wedding day
There's nothing really green about "Paisley" at all, which is why I wouldn't classify it as a fougère, but in the small niche of summery light spiced waters. These completely uncitrusy anise-based summer waters are original, deeply idyllic and touching. Comparable was Acqua di Stresa's dreamy "Calycanthus Brumae," now sadly out of production. The citrus notes mark "Paisley" as a spring and summer fragrance, but they are purely prelude. After only seconds, they retreat to reveal a warm heart of sweet mint and star anise. The mint note is warm and sugary, free of menthol sharpness and hardly evokes the plant but rather old-fashioned little mints. It melds with the anise to form a powdery entity that is the keynote of this scent. While the cardamom also nestles closely to this keynote, the pepper steps out of it a bit and brings about a subtle freshness. That "Paisley" (like "Calycanthus Brumae") is a quieter fragrance seems to me a perfectly plausible, thoroughly stylistic choice. The delicately complex essence of such fragrances can only exist in a somewhat husky sillage; more powerfully tempered, it would become something else, much more pretentious. Beautiful words that reviewer Darvant finds on 'basenotes' about "Calycanthus Brumae can also be said about "Paisley": "A poetic little shadowy juice for struggling souls."
Lime chutney and flower soap
In construction and overall impression very comparable to Annick Goutal's "Les Nuits d'Hadrien" (2003). Both are tart, slightly bitter citrus fragrances with a spicy heart and warm amber-musk-patchouli-sandalwood base. But there is one crucial difference: typical of its time, "Eau de Rochas" contains a floral aspect (rose, carnation, narcissus), while "Hadrian's Nights" - flowerless but with cumin and juniper - has a strong spicy focus. As a result, "Les Nuits d'Hadrien" is gourmand perfume through and through and can no longer be described as fresh or "cologne". Rather, this perfume comes across as deep, intimate and "bodily"; to some, a smell like the T-shirt of someone who has spent hours cooking Iranian stew with limes on a hot day; the citrus peel aspect sits in a dark, aromatic armpit, so to speak. "Eau de Rochas" isn't free of a certain gourmand character either - a sort of lime chutney note - but its spiciness is balanced by a subtle floral counterbalance. It's an easier-to-wear, Daytime-ready perfume - vividly acidic, slightly bitter, herbaceous, spicy, and retains a touch of floral-soapy, traditional chic through it all. It passes for formal, yet is full of fierceness
Violet addiction: symptom of the first urban neurotics
Violettes du Czar (2014) is a reconstruction of a "masculine" violet perfume composed by Oriza Legrand in 1862. The name honors Czar Alexander II, a regular customer of the house. The violet was the favorite flower of the Belle Époque, a time when the industrial revolution had already triumphed. Especially in the cities, people loved the shy aura of the tree-like forest flower, which in reality was cultivated en masse under glass. The street scene included shop assistants from whom one could buy small bouquets of violets. Manet's portrait "Berthe Morisot with a Bouquet of Violets" (1872) shows what was done with them: they were attached to clothing. Violettes du Czar is based on the androgynous idea of "violet leather". The prelude is formed by strict, light green notes. They convey the strange twinning of the medicinal and the poisonous, which seems so typical of the 19th century from today's point of view. The leather aspect possesses a slightly pungent urine sharpness that makes one think of tanning processes. The unsweetened, earthy-mineral scent of violets emanates from this tangy blend of poisonous spring flowers and leather. The violet note seems to be based mainly on the root of the Florentine iris, which was common in the 19th century. Without the sunny character of real violets, this root absolute very convincingly embodies a cool and thoughtful variation on them. With a modern interest in the conflictual, Violettes du Czar (2014) places this violet in a context of humanly recorded nature turned into medicine and leather. A chic and subtle fragrance for the still cold part of spring. P.S.: A less progressive but noteworthy violet-leather scent is the softer and sweeter "Jolie Madame" by Balmain from 1953
Violet-lacquer and highlighter
This fragrance from 1978 can perhaps only be loved by those who are willing to understand it from their own time. Knize Two is born from the taste of an era that does not seek the naturalistic, but whose idea of elegance also integrates the artificial. In the prelude, the fragrance possesses a liquory-cool pungency typical of the time, which however quickly gives way to a spicy depth. On a leathery base, it intertwines deep green notes and a dark, liquorice floral note with a somewhat chemical felt-tip character. Not bad.
Somehow enchanting Eau de Cologne, preloaded for special connoisseurs
The components actually resemble the original cola recipe, which also originates from the 19th century http://dercolablog.de/cola_cokerezept.php. However, in "Florida Water" - about 80 years older than cola - this spicy mixture is provided with more citric overtones. Good idea, which the Riegele brewery in Augsburg then had again in 1956: Spezi. Spezi is only available in Germany, Austria, Switzerland and Finland. Anyone who grew up here will be reminded of this lemonade mix, which is not considered stylistically assured, although it is delicious. The rest of the world can enjoy Florida Water as an atypical and enchanting cologne, which - a bit alpine - combines wonderful mountain herb accents à la Ricola with Italian citrus flair