Souhsza

I was happy that my son was able to choose from the scent samples he smelled at home after a few trial runs, one that represents him well: Fahrenheit. I wanted to give him his first real eau de toilette for Christmas. So, a big deal!

Yesterday, after riding, I had a spritz applied to my wrist at the perfumery while picking him up. What a shock! The current reformulation smells to me like this:

15 construction workers are supposed to tear up the road at the gas station at a traffic junction in July. The boss has had a falling out with the portable toilet company. The workers have to make do. They find a corner next to the gas station.

Today they are paving. It’s 40 degrees. Someone has spilled gasoline at the gas station. I have to go to the pee corner, which has been set up for three weeks now and is being frequented eagerly. And it is exactly there that I perceive the smell that the reformulated Fahrenheit triggers on my skin: urine, tar, gasoline, exhaust fumes, and all of it intensified threefold in the heat, but clearly dominated by the smell of urine.

To be honest, I have to say that the horse manure smell still lingers a bit in my leather jacket after riding. That, along with Fahrenheit, has created this explosive mixture.

Interesting how readily Fahrenheit is willing to mutate into something third with just a little push, like here with the horse stable smell.

I tested the current Fahrenheit again the other day without the horse jacket and can give the all clear.

My son will smell just as he wishes, and I wish him much success with the ladies.

The 10 can stay.

J-C d C was my father's signature scent.

Thanks to the sample gifted to me by Inse, which made me incredibly happy and was the best welcome greeting at Parfumo ever, I can resurrect the memory of my father who passed away decades ago.

I take a whiff and I'm transported back 30 years. It’s as if the old times surround me again in the blink of an eye. A time travel initiated by something as small and inconspicuous as a bottle of liquid concocted by people.

My father standing confidently in his flared checkered trousers in front of our house. Lino Ventura on a gangster hunt in Paris with his olive green metallic Citroen DS 20 on television. My father's cousin entering in his black-and-white snakeskin ankle boots and dark blue blazer made of the finest fabric - an outfit that marked him as a representative of a milieu prevalent during the coal mining days in Saarland, but also gave him a somewhat eccentric aristocratic air (Lapo go home) -. My father's appearance on certain occasions, e.g. at the product fair in a suit and tie, at family celebrations like my cousins' communions in their best Sunday clothes, later years with a bow tie. I never saw him in jeans, only in dress pants. Him with a few employees on detours in the well-known, well-frequented, and universally popular bars, a parallel universe just for men with plenty of beer as a pleasure booster. My father with a silk handkerchief in the small upper side pocket of his jacket, sometimes red, sometimes blue patterned. Those French-looking male faces with dark hair and sometimes curls on their heads. My uncle with his sideburns. Us eating snails, frogs, moule farcie. Red wine and savoir vivre.

I love the scent incredibly. For me, it has something timeless, self-assuredly masculine, noble, but also a hint of a cheeky poker game for, and stealing of, spaces that one provocatively and shamelessly takes at the expense of women, children, and the weaker ones, and astonishingly finds oneself without sanctions. There’s the memory of my childhood and youth in an extremely male-dominated place in the middle of the coal ridge during a macho time that can only be mildly chuckled at by outsiders or from a distance, which was a real nightmare for anyone who didn’t belong to this group of arrogant and somewhat foolish roosters.

Mixed feelings aside...

Rightly considered, such a signature scent is also a kind of dowry, a particularly beautiful one, because it is sensual and conveys a sense of permanence that is no longer found today in an era of transitional, summer, and winter perfumes.

How I would love to have a signature scent as well, as a memory for my loved ones. In our mobile time, it would almost be a better, because more easily accessible, anchor of remembrance than a gravesite.

As I see it, I have ventured onto quite thin ice with this comment, as I lost a loyal follower this morning after over five years.

That makes me sad.

Innocence smells innocent, pleasantly green, like a hidden garden with a fragrant sea of blossoms.

I see a virgin rising from the sea, then again a spring queen among the Celts. And the dream of Kätchen conveyed to us by Heinrich von Kleist!

Cause of love: Count von Strahl: "What binds you to my steps?
Käthchen: My noble lord! You ask too much of me.
And if I lay as I do before you now,
before my own consciousness there,
on a golden judgment seat let it throne
and all the terrors of conscience stand by it
in flaming armor,
then every thought would still
speak to what you asked: I do not know."

Dreamy lingering near the beloved in a great bubble, unreachable for reality is preprogrammed.

I am by nature so soft, so sweet, so deep, so airy, so feminine, so heavy, so clear, that perfumes have a hard time with me.

I see the perfume advertisements on television and think, I could never buy such a mass-produced scent.

My fragrance must complete me while simultaneously highlighting me. Citrusy or simply sticky sweet, like so many drugstore scents, would already be unsuitable because they are just too vulgar.

However, I do not smell that even with a hint of green madness. At the beginning, I perceive the bitterness that completes me, like dandelion salad in spring, and to my delight, it is not at all common for a perfume.

I sense something elusive and thus mysterious, which emphasizes and flatters my depth. I am often seen as somewhat unpredictable.

Then, as it develops, a budding fruitiness emerges, like that of blackcurrant, which replaces the bitterness, softens it, and thus makes it easier to access the scent of me in the green wave. It rages over me and makes me shine fragrance-wise like a diamond by constantly flashing new facets. The approachability after the exotic, like a hand reaching out.

I am relieved by the clarity of a rock crystal, this perfume, which never leaves me in a powdery ambiguity that makes me cough.

The green madness blends quite well with my natural scent and allows us to make a really good impression until the very end.

... green, green, green is all I have. That's why I love everything that is so green, because my favorite perfume is Robboooorrrriiiiiiisss ...

It is becoming increasingly clear. Green has an enormous attraction for me.

But not the innocent green in Innocence by Chloe or Neroli, Bamboo e Fior di Loto, which looks at you so naively that you would like to punch it in the face immediately ...

Nor the many Chypres that exist...

No, just the more mature green in Premier Figuier or in Cocobello and now Roboris...

Last year, Marron pulled me out of my scent-sleeping beauty slumber and awakened me to new fragrance vitality. It must have been around this time of year...

And now Roboris... I sing your name, la, la, la...

Thank you Angelliese, a thousand times!!! How can you know me so well? What a new winter / Christmas fairy tale!

Chypre no, but hay-like yes. I probably didn't spend enough time as a child or young woman in the stable or around hay bales and have something to catch up on...

What Premier Figuier contributes with fig and Cocobello with coconut, Roboris adds with monsoon rain. Yes, somehow there is also a kinship to Un Jardin après la Mousson, which makes Roboris a bit more mysterious and mystical than its two green fragrance predecessors in my scent treasure.

But it is better than Un Jardin après la Mousson, because it can be worn outside of high summer and extreme temperatures due to its distinctive green component, giving it a wide range from spring and summer to autumn.

It’s possible that this type of fragrance works well with my skin. I can't say, I also don't know if it smells nice on me to others. My cat was allowed to smell it anyway, and it is the first scent that she reacted to. Otherwise, she always turns away disdainfully and uncomfortably.

As a hardcore scent lover, I apply all fragrances directly to my skin with known risks and therefore always have that immediate connection with my skin, and it smells so great, hooray!