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Olfactory Delightful Horror
I dedicate this comment to Morgaina, the fairy who was kind enough to let me have a decant.
First of all: Salubrious is my first fragrance that tells a kind of fairy tale throughout its development. It’s not Little Red Riding Hood, but there are parallels...
Salubrious transports me alone into a dark forest. Unfortunately, not into a midsummer night's dream! No crazy fairies, just dark, far away from any civilization. It really seems to be just me.
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...?!
No, as an old nature lover, this doesn’t really unsettle me yet.
Suddenly, I smell that I am not alone after all. The penetrating scent of a wild boar is getting closer, becoming stronger. It gallops directly towards me, the rutting boar. I get scared and scream.
Noooooooooooooo!
No one is there to hear my scream. I hold my arm far away and pretend it no longer belongs to me.
La, lala, la, la...
My distress and sense of helplessness rise with the increasing intensity of the scent. What does the wild animal want from me? Why doesn’t it give me a quick end? Every pore that has been targeted by the animal seems to revolt and, maddeningly, simultaneously fall into a kind of paralysis. The fact that I don’t start laughing like crazy is everything.
In the face of so much animalistic essence, even I, the lover of animalic scents, feel fear. It’s something so vaguely memorable and archaic that I dare not recall. Too deep, too eerie!
The pig runs away. I breathe a sigh of relief, but just when I think I’m safe, it comes charging back at me.
It circles me!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!
Eventually, it gives up and I collapse unconscious onto the forest floor, which wants to comfort me. The forest exudes a soothing peace. Nothing seems to remind me of the events from just a few minutes ago.
Dear Morgaina! Thank you for my first horror fragrance. It sends delightful chills down my spine in the end.
Now I’m saving the 10 euros for the ghost train at the Oktoberfest this year! Instead, I’ll treat you to cotton candy and roasted almonds!
The scent will remain in my collection for times when I seek a kick or an adventure. Because sometimes it is indeed delightfully thrilling to be scared.
But just to be safe, I’ll take someone with me on my next attempt with Salubrious, someone who can understand... Alone might be too dangerous after all! At some point, the wild boar might just take me away and not bring me back?!
First of all: Salubrious is my first fragrance that tells a kind of fairy tale throughout its development. It’s not Little Red Riding Hood, but there are parallels...
Salubrious transports me alone into a dark forest. Unfortunately, not into a midsummer night's dream! No crazy fairies, just dark, far away from any civilization. It really seems to be just me.
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...?!
No, as an old nature lover, this doesn’t really unsettle me yet.
Suddenly, I smell that I am not alone after all. The penetrating scent of a wild boar is getting closer, becoming stronger. It gallops directly towards me, the rutting boar. I get scared and scream.
Noooooooooooooo!
No one is there to hear my scream. I hold my arm far away and pretend it no longer belongs to me.
La, lala, la, la...
My distress and sense of helplessness rise with the increasing intensity of the scent. What does the wild animal want from me? Why doesn’t it give me a quick end? Every pore that has been targeted by the animal seems to revolt and, maddeningly, simultaneously fall into a kind of paralysis. The fact that I don’t start laughing like crazy is everything.
In the face of so much animalistic essence, even I, the lover of animalic scents, feel fear. It’s something so vaguely memorable and archaic that I dare not recall. Too deep, too eerie!
The pig runs away. I breathe a sigh of relief, but just when I think I’m safe, it comes charging back at me.
It circles me!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!
Eventually, it gives up and I collapse unconscious onto the forest floor, which wants to comfort me. The forest exudes a soothing peace. Nothing seems to remind me of the events from just a few minutes ago.
Dear Morgaina! Thank you for my first horror fragrance. It sends delightful chills down my spine in the end.
Now I’m saving the 10 euros for the ghost train at the Oktoberfest this year! Instead, I’ll treat you to cotton candy and roasted almonds!
The scent will remain in my collection for times when I seek a kick or an adventure. Because sometimes it is indeed delightfully thrilling to be scared.
But just to be safe, I’ll take someone with me on my next attempt with Salubrious, someone who can understand... Alone might be too dangerous after all! At some point, the wild boar might just take me away and not bring me back?!
5 Comments
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The Beast in Man
After my three predecessors have harshly judged Azzaro pH, I feel compelled, as a woman, to rescue the honor of this men's fragrance.
Many men today want to smell fresh like spring, clean, and, as Klaus Lage would say: germ-free and clinically pure. The development of a personal scent should - also through the use of a perfume - be suppressed.
This means, in perfume terms, they love citrus, green, aquatic, fresh, and at most slightly woody notes, and they tolerate, sometimes more begrudgingly, the waltz of their own acid mantle with the fragrance.
I don’t understand it!
Do you men not want to enchant us with your masculinity anymore?
Azzaro is completely different! Once the not entirely rounded top note and heart note have faded, it gifts for hours the beast, the muscular man who has become strong through running in the steppe and battling wild animals, enabled by musk, amber, oak moss, leather, and tonka bean.
It stands in contrast to our zeitgeist with its iPhone-loving, environment-forgetting, mentally escaping tech-obsessed individuals.
However, Azzaro is not inherently bad, yuck, primitive, and ugh. And yet, one senses that it can only unleash its full effect in connection with hedonistic lust sweat - no, the more common athletic performance sweat won’t do - mucous membranes, body, and beads of sweat must come into play.
But then it is in a perfect connection with its wearer, and thus the now perceivable scent is unmatched.
In any case, it is a promise, a promise that can only emerge as a unique fragrance when Azzaro connects with bodily fluids.
I therefore give it 90%. It is the first time for a men's fragrance.
And no one should say they can't afford Azzaro, because Azzaro is - as you have read more than once now - a wallet-friendly fragrance.
Many women would surely be pleasantly surprised, delighted, and even grateful if they could smell it more often!
Many men today want to smell fresh like spring, clean, and, as Klaus Lage would say: germ-free and clinically pure. The development of a personal scent should - also through the use of a perfume - be suppressed.
This means, in perfume terms, they love citrus, green, aquatic, fresh, and at most slightly woody notes, and they tolerate, sometimes more begrudgingly, the waltz of their own acid mantle with the fragrance.
I don’t understand it!
Do you men not want to enchant us with your masculinity anymore?
Azzaro is completely different! Once the not entirely rounded top note and heart note have faded, it gifts for hours the beast, the muscular man who has become strong through running in the steppe and battling wild animals, enabled by musk, amber, oak moss, leather, and tonka bean.
It stands in contrast to our zeitgeist with its iPhone-loving, environment-forgetting, mentally escaping tech-obsessed individuals.
However, Azzaro is not inherently bad, yuck, primitive, and ugh. And yet, one senses that it can only unleash its full effect in connection with hedonistic lust sweat - no, the more common athletic performance sweat won’t do - mucous membranes, body, and beads of sweat must come into play.
But then it is in a perfect connection with its wearer, and thus the now perceivable scent is unmatched.
In any case, it is a promise, a promise that can only emerge as a unique fragrance when Azzaro connects with bodily fluids.
I therefore give it 90%. It is the first time for a men's fragrance.
And no one should say they can't afford Azzaro, because Azzaro is - as you have read more than once now - a wallet-friendly fragrance.
Many women would surely be pleasantly surprised, delighted, and even grateful if they could smell it more often!
6 Comments
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Nightwish or still wishes unfulfilled?!
Fougère Bengale is for me the chain-smoking high-class lady on heels so high that I wonder if they will ever end, and when they finally do, they do so on surfaces as small as a penny. On these heels, she moves like a gazelle through the room, captivating my gaze.
Fougère Bengale is dressed in a black shiny Japanese silk dress. It is so tight against her body that even a banknote wouldn't fit in between. Her silhouette reveals her body shape, perfectly represented by her dress.
Fougère Bengale is the woman who knows the night better than the day, the seductress in the red-pink twilight, swirling cognac and sipping champagne with a smoky voice that can handle quite a bit of alcohol.
Fougère Bengale is also the experienced woman who sets the rules of engagement, who playfully does what she wants with the visitors, who influences and creates the impression that she has something desirable to offer, making the men go blind and then instinctively follow.
I feel wicked and confident with this scent. When I wear it, people can expect a lot from me.
For me, Fougère Bengale is absolutely harmonious and rounded in its composition, just as a niche fragrance should be. I feel no contradictions, only a successful interplay of the ingredients.
The sillage is great, as is the longevity!
It is also nice that the actually forbidden oak moss is included, which seems to be an indispensable ingredient in the palette of fragrances.
Unfortunately, Fougère Bengale turns cheap and low-pitched after this beautiful beginning and climax! And unfortunately, this phase feels longer than the introduction and the main part of this exciting "film piece."
I don’t want to smell like this anymore! :-( And I can only think about how to get this stuff, which was just my biggest dream, off my skin as quickly as possible?!
What a shame!! Still, it's a great show, because it’s so close to heaven!!!
Fougère Bengale is dressed in a black shiny Japanese silk dress. It is so tight against her body that even a banknote wouldn't fit in between. Her silhouette reveals her body shape, perfectly represented by her dress.
Fougère Bengale is the woman who knows the night better than the day, the seductress in the red-pink twilight, swirling cognac and sipping champagne with a smoky voice that can handle quite a bit of alcohol.
Fougère Bengale is also the experienced woman who sets the rules of engagement, who playfully does what she wants with the visitors, who influences and creates the impression that she has something desirable to offer, making the men go blind and then instinctively follow.
I feel wicked and confident with this scent. When I wear it, people can expect a lot from me.
For me, Fougère Bengale is absolutely harmonious and rounded in its composition, just as a niche fragrance should be. I feel no contradictions, only a successful interplay of the ingredients.
The sillage is great, as is the longevity!
It is also nice that the actually forbidden oak moss is included, which seems to be an indispensable ingredient in the palette of fragrances.
Unfortunately, Fougère Bengale turns cheap and low-pitched after this beautiful beginning and climax! And unfortunately, this phase feels longer than the introduction and the main part of this exciting "film piece."
I don’t want to smell like this anymore! :-( And I can only think about how to get this stuff, which was just my biggest dream, off my skin as quickly as possible?!
What a shame!! Still, it's a great show, because it’s so close to heaven!!!
5 Comments
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Tropical Femininity
Yes, I can hardly imagine this perfume on a man!! To explain, I will share an experience from a trip:
The sun is just rising, and the sky is as red, orange, yellow, and purple as I have only seen in India. The plain lies calm, and in the distance, the mountain ranges of the Kashmir mountains rise up.
In the village market, it is bustling as it is every morning. Two young Indian women - in their bright green and purple saris - are cooking a large pot of rice and preparing a beautiful curry for sale to hungry passersby. They kneel under the open sky, chopping the ingredients for the curry. Before them, the colors of the sky are mirrored in the red pomegranates, the yellow ginger and cardamom, the oranges, the plums, and finally the reddish-brown cinnamon.
It is initially the smell of the freshly cooked fragrant rice that moves me to stop at their stand. As I watch the girls at work, a wonderful new scent begins to spread from the previously chopped and now simmering ingredients. A smell of exotic spices and warmth, for me, I think, this is the scent of India, to which I feel connected! My almond-shaped eyes are not really German, are they?! Surely I have Indian ancestors, even if from a long time ago.
As I finally walk on, the smell of the curry stand accompanies me. I feel more rosy-cheeked, rounder, more feminine, and as a person well represented by this scent that is now in my clothes. The images of the girls, the kitchen, the food, the land around the primal feminine domains remain with me.
Yes, and whenever I long for it, I simply apply Aziyadé.
It was created by a Corsican and half-Moroccan. He wants to create a connection between scent, eroticism, and spirituality with his fragrances. Eroticism, well, yes. Spirituality?! I can't quite follow that. At most, I can find a path to a groundedness. Certainly nothing airy.
The perfumery Parfum d'Empire is a small craft business in Paris and thus quite different from the large mass producers.
I give this perfume a rating of 100%.
It remains with me even after wearing it for a long time. It never becomes vulgar or cheap; I do not say (like whore water), which unfortunately is the case for me with Magie Noire, Opium, or Fougère Bengale.
The fact that Aziyadé is actually another word for Constantinople and what Mr. Corticchiato wanted to refer to here does not connect for me. Perhaps I should fly to Turkey.
The sun is just rising, and the sky is as red, orange, yellow, and purple as I have only seen in India. The plain lies calm, and in the distance, the mountain ranges of the Kashmir mountains rise up.
In the village market, it is bustling as it is every morning. Two young Indian women - in their bright green and purple saris - are cooking a large pot of rice and preparing a beautiful curry for sale to hungry passersby. They kneel under the open sky, chopping the ingredients for the curry. Before them, the colors of the sky are mirrored in the red pomegranates, the yellow ginger and cardamom, the oranges, the plums, and finally the reddish-brown cinnamon.
It is initially the smell of the freshly cooked fragrant rice that moves me to stop at their stand. As I watch the girls at work, a wonderful new scent begins to spread from the previously chopped and now simmering ingredients. A smell of exotic spices and warmth, for me, I think, this is the scent of India, to which I feel connected! My almond-shaped eyes are not really German, are they?! Surely I have Indian ancestors, even if from a long time ago.
As I finally walk on, the smell of the curry stand accompanies me. I feel more rosy-cheeked, rounder, more feminine, and as a person well represented by this scent that is now in my clothes. The images of the girls, the kitchen, the food, the land around the primal feminine domains remain with me.
Yes, and whenever I long for it, I simply apply Aziyadé.
It was created by a Corsican and half-Moroccan. He wants to create a connection between scent, eroticism, and spirituality with his fragrances. Eroticism, well, yes. Spirituality?! I can't quite follow that. At most, I can find a path to a groundedness. Certainly nothing airy.
The perfumery Parfum d'Empire is a small craft business in Paris and thus quite different from the large mass producers.
I give this perfume a rating of 100%.
It remains with me even after wearing it for a long time. It never becomes vulgar or cheap; I do not say (like whore water), which unfortunately is the case for me with Magie Noire, Opium, or Fougère Bengale.
The fact that Aziyadé is actually another word for Constantinople and what Mr. Corticchiato wanted to refer to here does not connect for me. Perhaps I should fly to Turkey.
3 Comments
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In a Candy Store in Sweden
"2 x 3 makes 4
Widdewiddewitt and three makes nine!!
I make the world
Widdewidde as I like it
...
Hey - Pippi Longstocking
trallari trallahey tralla hoppsasa
Hey - Pippi Longstocking,
she does what she likes."
Come Thommy and Annika, I have a little gold coin, we’re going to Mrs. Süsseson-Licorice. There are big glass jars full of candies, gummy bears, candy canes, and licorice in so many colors that your eyes overflow.
(Door opens, the little bell rings)
Mmhh, it smells so good here! This morning, Mrs. Süsseson's husband must have made herbal candies in the back room.
But now a new scent comes to my nose, like clouds quickly driven away by the wind, I now smell licorice. Yaaahhh, mmhh, licorice, licorice, licorice ... Mr. Süsseson must be very busy ...
I think they spray something addictive on the sweets, so they smell so good and you buy many kilos.
So ladies and gentlemen, if your beloved is into licorice, then go for Dzhari, which has nothing to do with India or saris at all. :-)
Widdewiddewitt and three makes nine!!
I make the world
Widdewidde as I like it
...
Hey - Pippi Longstocking
trallari trallahey tralla hoppsasa
Hey - Pippi Longstocking,
she does what she likes."
Come Thommy and Annika, I have a little gold coin, we’re going to Mrs. Süsseson-Licorice. There are big glass jars full of candies, gummy bears, candy canes, and licorice in so many colors that your eyes overflow.
(Door opens, the little bell rings)
Mmhh, it smells so good here! This morning, Mrs. Süsseson's husband must have made herbal candies in the back room.
But now a new scent comes to my nose, like clouds quickly driven away by the wind, I now smell licorice. Yaaahhh, mmhh, licorice, licorice, licorice ... Mr. Süsseson must be very busy ...
I think they spray something addictive on the sweets, so they smell so good and you buy many kilos.
So ladies and gentlemen, if your beloved is into licorice, then go for Dzhari, which has nothing to do with India or saris at all. :-)
5 Comments
