Splitter

One can also be positively surprised by such samples. I receive them every now and then, and the chances of adding them to my collection are usually quite slim. But I want to form my own opinion about these fragrances and convey that. However, I believe I ultimately write the texts to draw attention to the breadth of the art of perfumery, which lingers unknown and inconspicuously in the background of the big brands and perfumeries.

Here, in any case, is a fragrance with 'Power' in the name. Hello Daniel. I don't know where it is, but that's okay. Let's dive in.

At the beginning, this creation is indeed very sweet and cardamom-heavy. I briefly think of Halfeti and similar scents. But that fades quickly, and cinnamon spice reveals itself. The burner projection is not present, but the notes are quite noticeable. I perceive more of a gourmand calm on cold winter days. Gingerbread with plum jam. Not bad. An exciting experience. Target audience up to 25 who would like to cruise in the latest Benz.

We can confidently ignore the base notes again. They only support the longevity and don't come through noticeably anyway. Moss is supposed to be there. Yes, exactly. And patchouli. Whoever finds it.
They are present, but in my opinion, not as an olfactory element. Cedarwood shows up very minimally and makes the gingerbread more bitter. That's it.

Quite well done. A bit weak on the chest, could pack more punch. But presumably, wearers tend to overspray. Then it's fine.

BDK has always been a somewhat elusive house for me. Initially, as a new-school fragrance artist, I wasn't too averse. However, after a generally pleasant start, the compositions quickly became too sweet for me. Too soft. Too pleasing. Too familiar. And at that price, also hardly acceptable. And yet, the notes actually sound so good. But that's the thing with truly successful brands. Notes are quite alright, but the really exciting ingredients are present in such minimal concentrations that one might as well skip it.
Then I found Ambre Safrano and this one, and I couldn't resist.

Here are my impressions of Oud Abramad!
The fragrance opens directly with fresh, woody notes, and although rose is listed at the top of the packaging, it will never become noticeable or even dominant here. Instead, the scent develops much deeper, more complex, characterized by saffron and its smoky character. Cumin also makes an immediate appearance, which may be off-putting for many and is usually found in very small fragrance houses.
From here on, it only gets darker. More dark wood, more spicy oud, more animalic tones, more saffron, and a smoky character. Only a few speckles shine like stars in the night sky. It is the anti-work to the many sweet and floral creations of the house. Thank you for that!
I really wish BDK would dare to release such fragrances more often instead of the next overly sweet cloud. But that's just mass taste…

I would like to claim that I know and own a lot of woody scents. At 23 Pineward, there are already quite a few to be found. But that’s another story.
This one is different. At first, I thought, yeah nice, a Bois d‘ascèse before it went up in flames. But the second time, I was taught otherwise; my first impression was completely off.
The forest shrine - that’s how I’ll clumsily translate it - is sweet, no smoke, a whole lot of creamy wood and resin. It has far less of a forest character than what comes across with Pineward or similar scents. It starts amber-resinous, has a medium green character, and indeed the sweetness of vanilla. The mint doesn’t come through noticeably at all, and the rose and pine only make a brief appearance, showing a hint of resin. After that, a linear play begins, which is long-lasting - I really have to give that to this line - but doesn’t want to evoke a true forest feel.
Later on, guaiac wood slowly and laboriously makes its way through, adding very subtly damp woody sprinkles. However, the overall impression remains vanilla-like with sticky resins, a slight incense touch like in Voix humaines, and completely without edges.
I have no idea how I came to my first impression. Although I must admit, every now and then a certain nuance does come back to my memory. Uncanny.

A few years ago, I wrote something about this Memo. But today, a longer text is to follow.

Memo was the brand that ultimately drew me into the world of higher-priced brands. Back then, it was categorized into three price ranges. Memo charged 180, 205, and 430 bucks for the bottles. Great labels, a fantastic concept, a relatively small house, that convinced me.
Now there are only two price ranges left. 250 and 500 bucks.

So we have a fragrance here that cost 180€ when I first got to know it and now costs 250. My rating of price-performance drops from 5 to 3 stars. I find this price to be excessive. For what, exactly?

For a fruity-creamy scent, surrounded by fresh citrus and washed flowers. Longevity and projection are quite alright.
And I know, there are plenty of enthusiasts for such scents. That’s why my previous assessment was also very favorable. But over time, I got to know so many equally good and much cheaper alternatives, as well as my aversion to overly monotonous creamy scents, like this one, that I also have to reduce my overall rating from 8 to 5.
It is still a special interpretation of a musky creamy scent. But it is not an outstanding fragrance. Especially not at this price. It lacks something special. Complete notes cannot be discerned at all. Vetiver is not noticeable, leather and violet are not either.

But for a room fragrance or for sports, it’s quite alright. Otherwise, I understand less and less why one would want to smell ‘freshly showered’ or like ‘fresh laundry’ - both scent directions are characterized by corresponding products.

Captivated by the notes of this creation, it was the first Memento I tried back then. Somewhat good. Somewhat overwhelming. Somewhat… different than expected.
For it was not the dried-fruity incense I had anticipated, but rather a rosy cloud that was pleasant yet dominant, but also in a way exhausting, as overly floral compositions often are for me.
Incense in the top note? Not at all. And I want to be honest, I also do not detect any incense later on. Instead, as the thorn bush around the rose fades, more and more fruity resins appear, dripping with sweetness.
Over time, this fruity resin sweetness only intensifies, and after a few hours, the last hint of fruit disappears, merging into sweet resins.

In summary: A richly exuberant sweet experience that rises from the rose arrangement.

The range and breadth of the Memento collection is thus gigantic, and even though I am only now, nearly a year after its presentation, getting around to writing, it is certainly noteworthy.