Sockosophie

When I started with Parfumo in 2018, my nose was still very inexperienced; I initially only owned 3 designer fragrances and spending "so much money" on a perfume felt more than a little suspicious to me. Thank goodness I was lovingly guided here, got to know new facets, met amazing people, learned to determine my likes and dislikes, and then tested and tested and tested. I bought and sold again, participated in sharings, and even hosted a few myself. All of this is the reason for this perhaps somewhat provocative title. Because...

Let's be honest now, very, very honestly, hand on heart: Are we in kindergarten here?

Are we a community of fragrance lovers or trolls?
Can't we just evaluate fragrances fairly, appreciate the art and work of the perfumers, instead of expressing our personal resentments in the form of a few hasty clicks without ever having smelled the perfume? Aren't we better than that?

I lose faith when some people aren't even able to separate the artist from the work here. This is not Twitter; no one has to evaluate how much they love the directors of individual brands and write flashy statements.

Back to the fragrance:

Cherry X starts with a truly beautiful cherry-marzipan note and cognac; my first associations were actually chocolate-covered cherries or cherry liqueur. Soon, a certain darkness joins in, which is hard to define, that takes away the squeaky, very sticky sweetness and makes the fragrance much rounder.
This remains throughout the entire fragrance journey, whereas I lose this fruity cherry after a few hours. It gives way to a somewhat vanillic sweet woody note in the drydown; I guess that's the sandalwood that has enveloped me for a long time and was personally my girlfriend's favorite part of the fragrance.

I don't get many comments from her anymore because I wear something different every day, but she has praised the drydown of Cherry X, which is why I will probably treat myself to a bottle sooner or later.

The fragrance projects very well in the first 2-2.5 hours and leaves a nice, not too overpowering sillage behind; after hour 4 or 5, it becomes closer to the skin, I think about elbow length, a pretty perfect cuddle scent in my eyes. After 9 hours, I have to make an effort to still smell something from the base, but one should not take all values too seriously; I have pretty bad skin for fragrances.

In the end, the price, yes, is a shocker, not necessarily like Oud 31 but still steep; on the other hand, you get something for your money here, and other houses offer less for more *cough cough Tom Ford cough*. Whether it's worth it to you should be tested and decided by each person themselves; basically, all fragrances are overpriced when measured against the margins.

I personally don't want to whiteknight Kai Porten; I've only caught the controversy on the sidelines, but I also recognize the typical gatekeeping that always comes into play when people elevate a hobby to their entire personality and condemn influencers for the fact that we live in a system that has produced influencers. I have no idea how the guy is privately; I don't care at all; I'm evaluating the product here.

Long story short:

Fragrance = I like it
Gatekeeping = silly
Brand = has potential

Gourmands, as it turns out for me, seem to be my absolute favorite fragrances. Anything edible and sweet wafting through the air automatically brings a little smile to my face. So when I heard that there is a scent from Montale that smells almost photorealistically like chocolate, I had to get a little sample for myself.

This test ultimately led to the corresponding bottle being ordered on the same day I smelled Chocolate greedy for the first time.

What a chocolate dream this one is. Heavenly soft chocolate opens up, and the bitter orange can be detected if you concentrate on it, but it vanishes for me as quickly as it came, leaving behind this incredible creamy scent of melting chocolate bar after about 20 minutes.

Chocolate greedy smells to me as if you took any chocolate brand and chopped it very finely before warming it in a water bath to speed up the process. This delicious note also lingers on my skin for several hours; I would say 4-5, before the vanilla takes over very dominantly, and the scent leans more towards a vanilla perfume than the lovely chocolate, but that doesn't detract from the fragrance.

Overall, Chocolate greedy really stays around you for a long time, 8-9 hours until you can only really sniff me up close, but even then, it can still be sensed for another 1 to 1 1/2 hours. You should avoid wearing clothes if you don't plan to wash them the same day. Classic Montale, loud and long-lasting.

Sillage and projection in the first 3 hours or so: Really filling the room, you are definitely noticed, even after that at least an elbow's length away; the only downside is that not everyone immediately suspects a perfume... Excerpts from the feedback:

>> "It smells like cookies here"
>> "Mmm, is someone having a birthday, is there cake?"
>> "Something here really smells delicious"
>> "Why do you want to smell like chocolate?!? I don't understand"
>> "You are that, but that's a strange scent"

You can tell it makes an impression, but it seems to irritate some people as well. Maybe smelling like chocolate, despite the positive associations, is really a bit too "niche" for most.

In conclusion, I want to say that I am really satisfied with Chocolate greedy; it might be a bit "artsy," but I enjoy it; I just often lack the opportunity to wear it. I would only bring it out in winter anyway, but when? Maybe at the Christmas market? Versatile is different.

If you enjoy gourmands and can handle a bit more artistic scents, definitely give it a try. However, like all Montales, it is actually faaaar away from something you should buy blindly.

I got to know Parfums de Marly, like many here, through YouTube influencers.
The house has pulled off a marketing stroke of genius and really invested in exactly this advertising strategy, actively reaching out to YouTubers to create hype.

Has this strategy borne fruit?
When I look at the top 100 lists on Parfumo and compare the recognition of this niche house to all the others, excluding Creed, then it was the best idea one could possibly have. The hype is real! So real that they couldn't handle it and the quality control crashed hard. Anyone who had an old Herod knows the worlds that lie between them. Nevertheless, I have already brought 5 Marlys into my home and am quite satisfied with them, except for Layton.

About the scent itself:

Oajan is probably my second favorite scent after Herod and exactly what I imagine a gourmand to be.

Every time I apply it, my mouth waters.
This honey, cinnamon, vanilla explosion that somehow also smells like apple (I had this association with 1 Million Privè as well, I think the food industry has ruined me there) is so delicious, viscous, and inviting that I wouldn't refuse such a fragrant pastry even while on a diet.

In contrast to the often-mentioned little brother, the Privè, which I also own and cherish, here I am simply convinced by the higher quality. Whether it's the osmanthus or the davana, I'm not very knowledgeable about individual notes, but you can smell a more pleasant composition, softer, warmer, and of higher quality, almost a bit fluffy, despite the heaviness of the scent.

I just love everything about Oajan, the lush opening, the drier, albeit still very sweet and sticky drydown, and also the slightly less opulent base.

Longevity/Sillage:

I wouldn't dare to wear Oajan if I'm not outside and it's not below freezing.

Together with Carlisle, it's one of the strongest Marlys so far and it projects like nothing good. If you're unsure whether to overapply, better take 2 sprays less; you will definitely be smelled, even if someone isn't standing right next to you, for hours. I have been called a "walking Christmas market" several times, and that with just 3 timid sprays.

I cautiously estimate that no one will be unaware of where you've been within the first 4-6 hours when you're wearing this.
It won't really become a skin scent, it might soften a bit after 8 hours, but I can still notice it on my arm even after 14 hours.

Moreover, I never become nose-blind; I can actually continuously perceive Oajan on myself.

Bottle and Price/Performance:

The Parfums de Marly bottles are definitely eye-catching, especially Oajan and Carlisle with their shiny and matte black are already a bit of a focal point in my collection.

In my opinion, the price is justified; perhaps some are satisfied with the similarly structured Privès or Dolcelisirs, but I would still rank Oajan above them. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to sniff Ambre Narguilé yet, but I think I am well served with a luxury item of this kind.


Conclusion:

For fans of gourmand, endlessly sweet scents, this is a must-try in my eyes. Even a 10 ml sample that you can dive into here should last quite a while.
For a truly cold winter day during a walk or, for example, on Christmas Eve, it's a poem.

Oh, and for those interested: I have only received positive feedback for Oajan, more than for any other Marley.

With the EdT being one of my favorite scents, one would assume (at least according to some previous speakers) that I would categorically reject this one and proclaim it a diluted illusion of the original. No depth, no substance, it cannot be denied:

Many elements that make the original such a delight are desperately sought after here.

However: The original,
as perfect as it may be, is simply too heavy for the height of summer for me. Especially at 32 degrees and above. Moreover, Jean-Claude Ellena has managed to bring a smile to my face once again.
My first association with eau très fraîche was a very specific image that popped into my head: When you want to drink much more water in the unbearably hot summer, but plain water is too bland, what do you do?

Some reach for soft drinks or tea, but for my part,
I like to chop up citrus fruits and pour them into a large pitcher with regular tap water.

The longer the pitcher sits, the more the water takes on the flavor of the fruits; just one orange, lemon, lime, or tangerine is enough...

Now imagine,
someone is pouring themselves a generous amount, spilling a considerable amount over their hands, and in a fit of playfulness, grinning and with an elegant hand gesture,
this water finds its way towards your face.

That’s how the top of Eau très fraîche smells to me.

Do you know these olfactory summer associations?

Sunscreen, the smell of chlorine, sudden rain after a long heatwave. Scents that immediately remind you of better times.

That’s what this orange water is for me, which is why Eau très fraîche is such a smile-inducing scent for me.
It makes me happy.
It makes me carefree.
It refreshes me, even if only for a short while.

However, I now come to the negative aspects, as I have a 125 ml bottle (horribly difficult to use)... and it’s almost empty, despite the inner compulsion I feel to wear something different every day.

Where I might go overboard with some scents, or with others, lighter ones, even spray up to 10-12 times, that doesn’t help with eau très fraîche.

I bathe in the stuff and it still doesn’t last. Half an hour,
after that, you have to nibble on my earlobe to perceive it.

That’s why I probably won’t repurchase it, as much as I enjoy smelling it myself. It doesn’t deliver what I need from a daytime scent.

Nevertheless, I hold an unrestricted love for the fragrance, which, for me, does not need to hide behind the original.

Furthermore, I once again enjoyed reading all these comments in front of me.
It’s great how many people write lengthy texts about many scents here, which between the lines essentially only state:

I dedicate more time to this hobby, and therefore I understand much better than you and am right.

No malicious jabs here, but if I read that silly toilet block comparison for a summer citrus scent one more time, I’ll dissolve WC-Fresh 1:1 in double grain and wear that for the rest of the summer.

I get it, Terre d'Hermès is a timeless masterpiece. That doesn’t make the flanker a Lidl perfume, for heaven's sake. If you feel your honor is wounded by something like this, you’re taking this whole thing too seriously.

If a perfume were to hold the status of "god-king" within the community, it would probably be Aventus.
You can feel however you like about it, as opinions are known to differ. However, each of us can still acknowledge the titan status of this rather fickle beauty.

But when a perfume is so good that the myth surrounding it calls forth an armada of imitations, that is indeed concerning. Aventus remains the most copied fragrance in the world, and the original is increasingly falling into disrepute.

Naysayers would claim that Creed, in their hubris, is summoning the downfall of their house, and they wouldn't be entirely wrong.

This brings us to Explorer, as there has never been a designer clone of Aventus, marking a milestone in the history of men's fragrances.
Regarding the scent itself:

Explorer starts with a combination of bergamot, ambroxan, and akigalawood, and when you look at these and other notes, you don't necessarily come to the conclusion of what is actually being attempted here.

No pineapple, no apple, no blackcurrant, and no birch tar, and yet: after the first sniff, I could have immediately told you what this is supposed to be.

Explorer is more synthetic than Aventus, of lower quality, but no less pleasing. The top notes are undeniably pleasant for untrained noses and a stroke of genius considering that "normal" customers do not wait for the heart and base notes, provided a fragrance does not unfold non-linearly.

As it dries down, the bergamot takes a backseat, and what emerges is a typically synthetic men's wood scent, like those found in every drugstore. It lacks everything that makes other clones something special.

The longevity is decent at 6-7 hours. After one to one and a half hours of mediocre projection, it transitions to a skin-close level. For a fresh scent at this price, that's quite alright.

It definitely makes an impression right away, especially in the first hour, but the longer you wear it, the more banal it becomes. I actually have enough "crowd-pleaser" fragrances that this one didn't really need to be there.

Explorer marks a turning point for me: Aventus is no longer a niche fragrance.
Even if the copy is meager, it is still a copy and indicates how much we have reached the end of the line here.

Aventus had a good decade, but perhaps we can now lay it to rest, let it enter the annals, and wait for the next holy "grail fragrance."

The king is dead, long live the king!