Schnüfflerin

One spray and the storm is unleashed. It hits me directly, intensely, almost aggressively: a note that truly resembles red wine. Dark, dry, with a slight acidity. Yet at the same time stale, like the taste red wine leaves on the tongue. Like a red wine that was spilled in an old building, slowly seeping into stone and dust, lingering there for many years.

The sillage is like an atomic tremor, the acidity remains foreign and in the midst of it stands a thorny rose. My stomach churns. An image flashes, first fleeting, then increasingly clear: As if someone had devoured roses in a frenzy
and later vomited them back up.
Petals, half-digested, still red in color but dull - caught between beauty and decay.

The scent is disturbing yet strangely alluring. Precisely for this reason, I cannot turn my nose away.
As the first swirl settles, the essence of the fragrance changes.
The red wine retreats, the roses come to the forefront. At this time, I like it best. But the perfume is a master of transformation. A new note rises, becoming clearer, more distinct. It is the leather of old garments,
stored in dark rooms,
permeated with smoke, stained by rituals. Leather that carries stories that no one should hear.
The roses cling to this leather like wounded beauties seeking protection.

For a while, I wander between these notes: the deep rose, the smoky leather, the last echo of red wine that flickers like a memory in the background. The scent seems to calm down,
and for a moment I believe I have understood it. But then it tips. Not abruptly, but with a consequence that takes my breath away.

Something animalistic creeps in,
barely noticeable, but unstoppable:
A urinous shadow that slips like a foreign heart between the notes. And I stand there, between fascination and flight. Between roses that have been vomited,
and leather that has seen too much.
Between the breath of an old wine
and the final, animalistic rebellion of a fragrance,
that refuses to die beautifully and reminds us that in the end, we all decay.

How could it be any different? With Xerjoff, I fell in love with 2 out of 3 limited fragrances.

Unaware, I sprayed them on my skin and was immediately enchanted.
In the store, P.18 stole my senses with its breathtakingly beautiful top note. Intense, sexy, seductive - a fragrance that awakened longing in me and quickened my boyfriend's pulse. However, P.13 revealed its full magic only later. Initially delicate and reserved, it then settled softly and creamy on my skin. I kept smelling my hand, fascinated by its warm, gentle presence. Brighter than the #p.18, but just as sensual and exciting. My boyfriend summed it up aptly: P.18 is the sexy, naughty seductress in black lingerie or at the Kinky Club. P.13 is bright lingerie in white sheets. Sensual, soft, and yet irresistible.” In my opinion, it skillfully plays with innocence and seduction.

For me, P.13 lasts better than its sister, but it also remains quiet. That is the silent challenge of both fragrances: as beautiful and sophisticated as I find them, they can really only be enjoyed up close or in private moments.

If the sillage were stronger, it would likely have been crowned the decadent signature scent, but as it is, I simply cannot justify the price. Too expensive for an intimate secret. Yet the love was too great to give it up entirely, and while I hope that the fragrance will eventually join the regular collection, I enjoy my 30-ml bottle and indulge in the creamy softness, the gentle spice, the alluring clove, and the sensual flowers.

I stand in the Xerjoff store, spray the fragrance on my skin, and suddenly everything around me becomes warm. A spicy, soft embrace envelops me, and I feel like I'm floating in a sensual cloud. Excitedly, I hold my arm under my
friend's nose: His pupils dilate, a grin spreads across his face: “This is the best I've ever smelled on you.” Yes, it is incredibly sexy, and in that moment I knew I wanted it: But it is sold out. Disappointed, I let myself be put on the waiting list.

At home, I open the website and quietly hope for a little miracle. Indeed, it is available, but the price makes me pause. I wonder if I really want the fragrance or if I am seduced by its rarity. Would I still find the scent so appealing if I could buy it anytime? I don’t know, so I decide to be more sensible and settle for decants.

Three decants later: I am still in love. The gentle softness, the warmth of cloves, which accompanies me like a quiet oriental spell. My partner calls it “Seduction in a bottle.” When I ask him if it really is that good, he leans in and whispers: “Sweetheart, it’s a dream… I’d love to pull you into the next corner right now.”
But every dream has its shadow. As beautiful as this fragrance is, it is so quiet on my skin. Ten sprays, and I almost lose it immediately. Even my partner has to admit: He only smells it when he is very close. A scent for intimate moments, not for the world outside. But for 1300 euros, I want to at least be able to perceive it. I long for more substance. More longevity, more sillage, and more performance. If that were the case, I wouldn't have been able to resist. If only… wishful thinking… It is what it is, and so all that remains is the longing for something that not only whispers quiet promises but speaks through actions.

The Shalimar DNA has something old, something traditional - almost as if it tells a story from long ago. It carries the legacy of another time, and perhaps I am often not the right listener for it. But this flanker? It takes the heritage and gives it a fresh breeze that lightly blows away the dust of the past. But just enough so that it is still recognizable.

Tonka, often slightly scratchy and distinctive in many creations, has been finely integrated here. It loses its edge and develops a softness that is both pleasant and noble. The almond, which often leaves a bitter aftertaste in many perfumes, harmoniously blends into the overall picture here, without the bitter taste becoming too strong. Nevertheless, a remnant remains - that bitter hint, which personally does not quite appeal to me.

Also worth mentioning is the zesty bergamot. It shines through repeatedly at the start. It creates this clear, sparkling moment that refreshes the air like a fresh breeze. It acts as a counterpoint to the heavier, sweeter notes, bringing lightness and thus creating a harmonious balance. It is a beautiful, almost fleeting moment of clarity that balances the fragrance and makes it feel alive.

Overall, a thoughtful, coherent composition that makes the fragrance a pleasant experience. A scent that plays with elegance and depth, that hugs the skin warmly and softly, yet will not establish itself in my collection. As beautiful as it is, the slightly bitter note does not awaken in me the desire to want to wear it desperately, but I emptied the bottle with a satisfied smile, content with the journey it offered me.

No one knew who had placed the mirror there. It simply stood - in the middle of a rose pavilion, entwined with delicate blooms and guarded by a fragrance that enveloped the quiet elegance of the place in a fine veil.

Rosalie found it one late afternoon, as the sky shimmered in shades of rose and the shadows flowed softly over the paths. She ran her fingertips over the frame, which gleamed in a delicate vanilla tone.

Suddenly, the mirror began to breathe. And with it, the garden. From the blossoms rose a fine mist - softly rosy, interwoven with a hint of sweetness, like a drop of caramel rising into the air. Rosalie stepped closer, captivated.

In the mirror, she saw herself - and yet it was not quite her. This version of herself was lighter, freer, as if she had forgotten how heavy the world can sometimes weigh. As if she had encountered a version of herself that had not yet forgotten what it is like to dream. Golden veils hung from the ceiling, flowing like thoughts that cannot quite be grasped. The veils gently brushed her skin, and suddenly she was dressed - in a rose-colored gown that was not fabric, but feeling. On her face: tranquility. A radiance that came from within.

And in that moment, Rosalie understood: The mirror did not show who you are. But who you can become when you are ready to trust your own brilliance and take your own steps.