Smella

"Bayadere" or "Temple Dancer" is, in my opinion, a fitting name for this spirited and "vivid" fragrance...
Here, one encounters floriental, feminine power in high concentration - a fully floral, robust, slightly soapy scent bouquet that allows itself to almost entirely forgo anything sweetly harmonious...
...only the late-perceptible, but long-lasting vanilla base reveals itself as a concession to the qualities of softness and gentleness.

(...it seems to me that this (fragrance) dance does not merely seek to please, to ingratiate, or to attract attention, but is uncompromisingly directed towards "higher" aspirations...given its inner strength and purity, its effect on the "outside" seems almost secondary...)

Throughout the entire fragrance development, I perceive a ripe, dark, and very spicy rose note as dominant...in conjunction with patchouli, the bouquet gains significant depth and weight....and in the background, clove and ylang-ylang form the exotic framework of an intriguingly ambivalent olfactory experience...

(The comparison to "Cinnabar" would not have occurred to me...I find "Bayadere" to be distinctly more floral, transparent, and in this sense more reduced than the classic spice thoroughbred..;-)...

Puro Talco strikes me as an interesting attempt to implement a very strict fragrance concept.
Creating a scent that, despite a multitude of ingredients, is meant to evoke only powder and soap undoubtedly presents a significant challenge for the perfumer...

In this case, however, I find the execution of this endeavor to be too conceptually faithful... yes, Puro Talco truly smells ONLY of powder and soap... so: soapy, dry, somewhat dusty, and "cosmetically artificial"...
The sprayed areas of skin feel clean and almost "dry-pressed"... yet I miss the softness and sweetness of truly fine, velvety powder... as well as the delicate scent trail that exquisite soaps leave on the skin...

In the overall impression of Puro Talco, only the unavoidable "basics" of powder and soap come together: the sober components of dusty powderiness and basic soapiness ... the little bit of "more" that makes these centuries-old care products so appealing has unfortunately been omitted here...
Immediately after a brief, harsh opening, the central and unchanging "clean note" unfolds in a sober, entirely unfloral manner...*
Nevertheless, this scent is by no means "light" or "subtle"... the dusty soapiness comes across surprisingly intense, and with the right dosage, it could certainly be overwhelming...

For fans of "fragrance layering," Puro Talco could indeed be interesting as a base scent...

(Regarding longevity and overall quality, the EdP differs markedly from the EdT and is certainly preferable here...!!)

* (the absence of a "floral scent impression" is certainly noteworthy given the listed ingredients!)

In this simple bottle lies not a delicate breeze, but a distinctive, rugged, angular scent that instantly transports me to the imaginary expanses of the African desert.
Like the desert wind Scirocco, Eau Saharienne spreads powerfully and unrestrained... not actually cooling, I do not perceive its uncompromising dryness as warming or even "hot"...
Comparable to this impression of an ambivalent, indeterminate temperateness, the "fragrance family," the "age," or "gender" of this scent remains puzzling and elusive to me...
What is clear, however, is the absence: where this fragrance wafts, there is no green, no bloom, no fruit - nothing moist, nothing soft, nothing lovely endures...
Yet here, this absence marks no deficiency: it is rather a condition and prerequisite for the unfolding of a characteristic magic: in the absence of the lush, the beauty of the barren reveals itself.
Even familiar notes like sandalwood, cedar, or amber do not appear in their usual oriental-lush garb, but reveal a harsh, brittle, and in a way "natural" elegance. In the background, incense and myrrh are also very present, giving this fragrance phenomenon an equally exotic-spheric, yet immensely "earthy" character...
Aside from its enormous longevity, Eau Saharienne can best be compared to a mirage:
...shimmering... between heaven and earth... a hypnotizing radiance... intangibly present...

(...after such one-sided praise, the sobering disadvantage of wearing this fragrance should not go unmentioned:
presumably untrained noses often comment on "Eau Saharienne" with the unwelcome exclamation: "...it smells like incense sticks here...!"...)
:-0

...the connoisseur ignores, remains silent, and enjoys the next breeze of fragrance...
;-)

As a lover of the rare genre of non-floral "powdery scents," I find "Potiche" - despite lilac, mimosa & Co. - surprisingly appealing.

The floral notes contained here work together so elegantly that the typical impression of "florality" is completely absent. Instead, what emerges is a distinctly accentuated, yet nobly subtle character of pure, almost "unperfumed," creamy-dense powderiness.

The bergamot top note, which skillfully prevents any impression of mustiness, dissipates in no time... right after that, a dry butter-cookie note spreads... a hint of vanilla-tobacco mixes in... the scent aura of a wooden rocking chair and a woolen blanket adds its touch...

From this, a skin-close, quiet fragrance develops, which is very familiar on one hand, yet appears rather unusual as a "perfume": a small, almost inconspicuous little gem...

With "Potiche" - as well as with the other fragrances in the "Les Voiles Dépliées" line - Enrico Brucella succeeds in flawlessly realizing his picturesque scent concept without getting stuck at the level of mere concept implementation.

In contrast to other conceptually successful, yet very abstract, almost "lifeless" scent artworks, these creations impress with their ability to make the underlying concept immediately olfactorily tangible.

Thus, "Potiche" also connects us with everything that seems to have been intended by the perfumer: indeed, it is the "small," modest, everyday pleasant scents that convey coziness and security...