Seltzerpapi
Reviews
Seltzerpapi
A (very) different route to BR 540
What a wild and creative ride this one turned out to be!
First of all, the opening smelled nothing like I thought it would smell like, based on reading the notes. The wintergreen mixed with tarragon created a bitter, almost astringent, cool green, medicinal opening. The tuberose soon appears but it's the loamy, mushroomy, and medicinal aspects of tuberose that are often hidden in perfume rather than accentuated, along with a very indolic jasmine. This conveys a sense of rot, but in a perfumistic way (not at all like a bucket of old trash).
This beginning phase isn't unpleasant but it's not what I'd call pleasant, either. However, I found myself fascinated and sniffing my wrist repeatedly trying to tease apart what I was smelling. It's complex and kaleidscopic. Each sniff reveals different smells and at different concentrations.
After about 15 minutes, a subtle sweetness begins to rise, which only makes the rot smell more perfume-like. It's the narcissus and the hay and honey-like sweetness it has. At this point, things smell very wild and untamed, in a good way.
At about half an hour, the sugared ambroxan (which is BR 540) slowly begins to creep in as all the other notes begin to receed. There's a brief window of time (about ten minutes) where cinnamon appeared as a start player (though no cinnamon is listed in the notes).
On my skin, the full transition to BR 540 takes about an hour, and then I'm left with that for the next 7 or 8 hours, until the fragrance has completely faded away.
Projection is never beastly, though definitely noticeable within a few feet for the first hour, then, on my skin, it settled down so much that I had to put my nose to skin to smell it. I'd say it's solidly unisex.
First of all, the opening smelled nothing like I thought it would smell like, based on reading the notes. The wintergreen mixed with tarragon created a bitter, almost astringent, cool green, medicinal opening. The tuberose soon appears but it's the loamy, mushroomy, and medicinal aspects of tuberose that are often hidden in perfume rather than accentuated, along with a very indolic jasmine. This conveys a sense of rot, but in a perfumistic way (not at all like a bucket of old trash).
This beginning phase isn't unpleasant but it's not what I'd call pleasant, either. However, I found myself fascinated and sniffing my wrist repeatedly trying to tease apart what I was smelling. It's complex and kaleidscopic. Each sniff reveals different smells and at different concentrations.
After about 15 minutes, a subtle sweetness begins to rise, which only makes the rot smell more perfume-like. It's the narcissus and the hay and honey-like sweetness it has. At this point, things smell very wild and untamed, in a good way.
At about half an hour, the sugared ambroxan (which is BR 540) slowly begins to creep in as all the other notes begin to receed. There's a brief window of time (about ten minutes) where cinnamon appeared as a start player (though no cinnamon is listed in the notes).
On my skin, the full transition to BR 540 takes about an hour, and then I'm left with that for the next 7 or 8 hours, until the fragrance has completely faded away.
Projection is never beastly, though definitely noticeable within a few feet for the first hour, then, on my skin, it settled down so much that I had to put my nose to skin to smell it. I'd say it's solidly unisex.
My first and favorite
This was my first purchase from Ms. Bianchi and is still my favorite of all her work.
On my skin this opens as peach — juicy, sweet, almost overripe — and honey — raw, unfiltered, wild, animalic honey. Soon white florals appear (I don't smell tuberose, specifically, just a general sense of white flowers). And shortly after some patchouli and heliotropin. The patchouli is soft (not dank and dark) and augments the gourmand aspects of this perfume — although I wouldn't call this perfume "a gourmand."
The peach and honey stay very present through the entire life of the perfume. After about an hour, the leather and oud begin to flesh things out and pull down some of the sweetness. This is another of those fragrances where I only smell the sandalwood the next morning, in the far dry down of the perfume.
Projection for the first several hours is at least 6 feet. This isn't a perfume for the timid or those who are worried about getting noticed. Projection slowly settles to a small, fluffy bubble of peach-patchouli-oakmoss-leather around the 4 hour mark.
I don't find this to be quite as much of a "light and dark" contrast as the marketing material makes it out to be, but there is an interplay between heavier and lighter notes that I enjoy.
I frequently get compliments for all ages and genders when I wear this. I'd say it's definitely a spring-to-early-summer scent. And not office safe, imo.
On my skin this opens as peach — juicy, sweet, almost overripe — and honey — raw, unfiltered, wild, animalic honey. Soon white florals appear (I don't smell tuberose, specifically, just a general sense of white flowers). And shortly after some patchouli and heliotropin. The patchouli is soft (not dank and dark) and augments the gourmand aspects of this perfume — although I wouldn't call this perfume "a gourmand."
The peach and honey stay very present through the entire life of the perfume. After about an hour, the leather and oud begin to flesh things out and pull down some of the sweetness. This is another of those fragrances where I only smell the sandalwood the next morning, in the far dry down of the perfume.
Projection for the first several hours is at least 6 feet. This isn't a perfume for the timid or those who are worried about getting noticed. Projection slowly settles to a small, fluffy bubble of peach-patchouli-oakmoss-leather around the 4 hour mark.
I don't find this to be quite as much of a "light and dark" contrast as the marketing material makes it out to be, but there is an interplay between heavier and lighter notes that I enjoy.
I frequently get compliments for all ages and genders when I wear this. I'd say it's definitely a spring-to-early-summer scent. And not office safe, imo.
From cherrypalooza to soft, warm comfort
The opening minute or two is a thick, swirling kaleidoscope of cherry — black cherry, fresh cherry, maraschino cherry (the dyed red American type), and cherry candy — with the tiny droplets of marzipan, tobacco, and vanilla here and there. Projection, at this point, was quite nice. Even with my arm by my side I could still smell everything quite well.
Over the next half hour, the vortex slows. The marzipan becomes a bit stronger of a player but it’s soon overtaken by the gentle powderiness of heliotrope and sweet acacia (which is mimosa; I had to look that up). The marzipan stays at the edges of things for about 15 minutes and then it begins to merge with the tonka. This tames the candied sugariness of marzipan as it blends with the almond nuances of tonka. With its herbal and tobacco facets, the tonka balances out the powdery facets of the heliotrope and sweet acacia.
During this phase, the cherry begins to smell less like cherry candy and more like true Italian maraschino cherries — definitely sweet but not candy-like, dark, rich, wild, and a little boozy.
I would describe the above as the opening phase and it lasted about 45 minutes. I should note: even though tobacco is listed as one of the top notes, I never distinctly smelled it during the opening phase. If I sniff deeply and close my eyes I *think* I can sense that it’s added depth and heft to the composition. But again, it was never a star element in the opening for me.
Where the opening was kaleidoscopic and energetic, the heart phase is placid and cozy. At this point, things are blended so smoothly that it’s difficult for me to tease out any one note on its own. This could be in part due the way the star players smell to me.
To my nose, tonka is a leathery mix of vanilla, tobacco, and almond. Bourbon vanilla its often described as having animalic facets which to me it does not, but to my nose has always faintly resembled tobacco. And then, of course, there is tobacco in the composition, as well.
During the heart phase I kept sniffing and thinking “Is that tobacco with the vanilla? Or is that the tobacco nuances of tonka?” And there was just no way I could pin any of it down. It’s just a cozy, warm, golden, ambery softness on which the dark, rich, syrupy cherries are resting.
One thing I can tease apart from all the above is the powderiness from the mimosa and heliotrope. It’s still somewhat present but muted — almost like a dusting that’s been added as a garnish. And occasionally, it will shift to having a subtle cosmetic smell. I wondered if this was perhaps from the milky, creamy beginnings of sandalwood starting to show up but I could never say for sure.
After about an hour and a half, a jasmine haze begins to settle on the composition. It’s subtle but it’s finally arrived. The slightly fruity white floralcy definitely begins a tinge a pink whereas, up until now, this has been a very dark cherry red affair. Speaking of the cherry, it begins to develop a tartness, which is unexpected since the opening was all about various sweet cherry smells. It’s fun and makes everything smell a bit tangy in an almost “tickle your nose” kind of way. I should also note, by this point there was no dramatic projection left. I had to put my arm two or three inches from my nose to smell anything.
There’s not much change from the heart phase to the dry down other than everything slowly morphing into a deep pinkish red haze as the sandalwood slowly becomes apparent. And it’s a fantastically creamy, soft sandalwood, too. When I went to bed there was still some cherry of the cherry haze hanging on but by morning, all I smell when I put my nose to skin is the sandalwood. Which isn’t a bad way to wake up.
Overall, this is a very well-done, adult cherry fragrance and if that's your thing I think you'd enjoy it. There's no denying the quality of ingredients or the artistry here, but for me, I don't think it's full-bottle worthy, especially not at this price point.
Over the next half hour, the vortex slows. The marzipan becomes a bit stronger of a player but it’s soon overtaken by the gentle powderiness of heliotrope and sweet acacia (which is mimosa; I had to look that up). The marzipan stays at the edges of things for about 15 minutes and then it begins to merge with the tonka. This tames the candied sugariness of marzipan as it blends with the almond nuances of tonka. With its herbal and tobacco facets, the tonka balances out the powdery facets of the heliotrope and sweet acacia.
During this phase, the cherry begins to smell less like cherry candy and more like true Italian maraschino cherries — definitely sweet but not candy-like, dark, rich, wild, and a little boozy.
I would describe the above as the opening phase and it lasted about 45 minutes. I should note: even though tobacco is listed as one of the top notes, I never distinctly smelled it during the opening phase. If I sniff deeply and close my eyes I *think* I can sense that it’s added depth and heft to the composition. But again, it was never a star element in the opening for me.
Where the opening was kaleidoscopic and energetic, the heart phase is placid and cozy. At this point, things are blended so smoothly that it’s difficult for me to tease out any one note on its own. This could be in part due the way the star players smell to me.
To my nose, tonka is a leathery mix of vanilla, tobacco, and almond. Bourbon vanilla its often described as having animalic facets which to me it does not, but to my nose has always faintly resembled tobacco. And then, of course, there is tobacco in the composition, as well.
During the heart phase I kept sniffing and thinking “Is that tobacco with the vanilla? Or is that the tobacco nuances of tonka?” And there was just no way I could pin any of it down. It’s just a cozy, warm, golden, ambery softness on which the dark, rich, syrupy cherries are resting.
One thing I can tease apart from all the above is the powderiness from the mimosa and heliotrope. It’s still somewhat present but muted — almost like a dusting that’s been added as a garnish. And occasionally, it will shift to having a subtle cosmetic smell. I wondered if this was perhaps from the milky, creamy beginnings of sandalwood starting to show up but I could never say for sure.
After about an hour and a half, a jasmine haze begins to settle on the composition. It’s subtle but it’s finally arrived. The slightly fruity white floralcy definitely begins a tinge a pink whereas, up until now, this has been a very dark cherry red affair. Speaking of the cherry, it begins to develop a tartness, which is unexpected since the opening was all about various sweet cherry smells. It’s fun and makes everything smell a bit tangy in an almost “tickle your nose” kind of way. I should also note, by this point there was no dramatic projection left. I had to put my arm two or three inches from my nose to smell anything.
There’s not much change from the heart phase to the dry down other than everything slowly morphing into a deep pinkish red haze as the sandalwood slowly becomes apparent. And it’s a fantastically creamy, soft sandalwood, too. When I went to bed there was still some cherry of the cherry haze hanging on but by morning, all I smell when I put my nose to skin is the sandalwood. Which isn’t a bad way to wake up.
Overall, this is a very well-done, adult cherry fragrance and if that's your thing I think you'd enjoy it. There's no denying the quality of ingredients or the artistry here, but for me, I don't think it's full-bottle worthy, especially not at this price point.
