SilverEnigma

This scent is truly special. It starts pleasantly with some floral notes and yes, also a bit of freshness. However, the freshness is short-lived and more subdued than is often the case. This freshness briefly reminds me of the sea and breeze and men's shower gels. In a good way. And then it's gone.

From here on, it becomes very cozy. Gentle, calm notes that harmonize excellently. Nothing is bitter, and from this point on, I can no longer distinguish individual notes. The "skin accord" remains the defining element of this fragrance for me. It really smells like a person. Unperfumed, soap- and fragrance-free person. I can also very much relate to the maternal association, as it feels so embracing and warm.

I don't know anyone who smells like this skin accord. Yet it clearly smells like a person and not like me, as I smell different too. This leads to an irritating chain of thoughts for me, which goes something like this every time: "Ah, human, how cozy! - But wait, I'm alone... What smells so much like a foreign body? I see no one. Then it must be something small." And then, unfortunately, a single body part appears before my inner eye, sometimes a hand, sometimes a forearm. Each time without the corresponding body. This makes me think of embalming and undertakers, and unfortunately, I'm out. My head cinema turns this pleasant, harmless scent into Halloween, and that doesn't do either of us any good.

At first, it's a typical women's designer fragrance: pink, but fresh and pleasant. You can smell the orange with nice flowers. A pleasant blend of citrus floral notes where the citrus contributes freshness but does not play the main role. Agreeable and sweet, but really wearable. In the end, though, it's still too sweet and sticky for me, but almost worth considering.

Unfortunately, this changes in the drydown. After about 15 minutes, the musk takes center stage. The flowers turn into cloying sweetness, the citrus becomes sharper, and the musk pushes itself into the spotlight. That's no longer for me and reminds me of "The Musc | Essential Parfums".

Among designer fragrances, this one is, however, the most exciting for me so far. I really like the truly lovely opening and the pleasant harmony of citrus and flowers. In the end, I don't want to go through life in floral agreeableness. If I had to, then maybe with Paradoxe.

I often wonder what the fragrance houses were thinking when they named their scents. This is the first fragrance where the name is truly fitting.

Yes, this scent could be worn by an Alien Goddess. One who doesn't care about what's happening around her. Whether people like her scent or not. One who is in the spotlight because even the light belongs to her.

YouTube recently served me a short where a model was talking about Mugler. I was initially thrilled that I actually recognized a name (from you all here). And then the model says to the camera - I'm paraphrasing - "A Mugler walk is a different league than a normal walk." and "You gotta serve cunt." The last word is spoken silently to the camera. And yes, I feel that intensity in this fragrance as well.

As for the scent itself:
I completely agree with one of the statements about it being a synthetic Pina Colada. Sweet, creamy, intense. Since I don't like cream cocktails, pineapple, or sweet clouds, I'm out.

This scent truly seems to belong only to an Alien Goddess. If she were to take me into her harem, I wouldn't complain about her scent. However, I can't imagine it on mere mortals.

Libertin Louison - Technique Indiscrète and I have a hard time. First, the mail arrived with the samples in a cloud of scent because one had partially leaked. Also, there was one that I really didn't like at all. Everything smelled of that note. I packed everything individually in plastic and was able to banish the scent to bring others forward. So it can finally begin.

I notice that Mr. Louison seems to be particularly in love with some notes. Bergamot, patchouli, musk, and woods appear very often. Therefore, this fragrance seems to stand out a bit. Innocent flowers with wood and musk in the dry down, that sounds nice!

At first, I actually like it. The scent opens with pretty white flowers accompanied by a hint of citrus. It's pleasant and I would wear it like this. It's not a life-changing experience, but that's not always necessary. But then it gets strange. The fragrance increasingly loses its playful lightness. Only musk with caramel remains, no wood. That doesn't have to be. Somehow the scent, as the chypre accord comes through, becomes sharp and unpleasant again. From this moment on, it reminds me a bit of cheap soap in the restroom of a soulless fry shop.

The scent becomes very close to the skin and dissipates increasingly. Definitely short-lived, which in this case is welcome after the top note evaporates.

I'm sorry, but I don't want this.

I have never used this word in my life, but this fragrance is in beast mode. A brute entering the dance floor, expecting the crowd to make way for him. And they do. Not out of friendly acknowledgment, but because no one wants to deal with that confrontation. There’s nothing about tiptoeing, refinement, or subtlety here. It’s 100%. Always. Until you drop.

The scent character is correspondingly linear, and the sillage is, in my opinion, overwhelming. You can become an olfactory nuisance to an entire room. Perhaps this is more suited for outdoor events. If you want to smell like candied fruit even after a mud and rain obstacle course, then this is the right choice.

Overall, the fragrance gives me carnival vibes. Definitely gourmand. It’s like walking past a carnival food stall while simultaneously having anise, orange, and vanilla in your nose. It creates a truly cohesive scent profile. Few facets and nuances, just this one sweet cloud. Accordingly, it’s not easy to identify anything besides anise and patchouli.

All in all, I always think of those sticky candies that glue your teeth together. The sweetness feels somehow artificial, like typical sweets in fruity flavors. Plus, it’s massively sweet, sugary, and overwhelming in taste.

You have to want it. There’s nothing refined about this at all.