StellaOscura

This is my new love.

I always thought I wouldn't like aldehydes. "Ma Griffe" couldn't land with me, nor could "No5." These fragrances always seemed somewhat sour to me, more like cut flowers and less like the overgrown garden of nature that I longed for. So, in my search for flowers and spice and - yes, I just love it! - soap, I kept coming back to chypres, which never quite satisfied that specific craving. They are undeniably beautiful, no question. But they can't do everything, can they?

Nocturnes sparkles. Like a hint of candied ginger on the tongue. Sharp yet sweet and actually not sweet at all. Ripe citrus fruits, vibrant flowers in full bloom. Nocturnes lingers long after. The base doesn't round off the fragrance but grounds it, gives it calm. The feeling of no longer being young and having all the possibilities, but finally knowing who you probably are at the core of your heart.

In the end, one doesn't fall in love because the beloved is so lovable, but because they are what one wishes for oneself.

If I had wished for Nocturnes, the Younger, as once considered for Christmas, and had actually received it - dear readers, I would have been so disappointed!

I would have sat there on Christmas Eve, in my imagination in a black dress with golden dots, with a carefully chosen holiday fragrance amidst my loved ones. Someone would have handed me the package - wrapping paper with a big bow - and I would have guessed the contents almost immediately: Nocturnes, the one I had wished for! I would have been delighted, I would have opened the package, admired the bottle. A spray on my wrist, everyone would have admired it too, how beautiful, how fresh, how spicy, how special. I would have been very happy.

We would have had dinner together, shared a few glasses of wine, chatted and laughed. And in between, I would have occasionally dreamily sniffed my wrist to indulge in the scent I had wished for. But it would not have been there. Oh, disappointment!

For the one I had wished for was completely different. Beautiful! And this one is its pale, ugly little brother!

Nocturnes, the Younger, starts like the Older, floral, citrusy, soapy, sparkling, and strong. It becomes warmer and spicier. Just minutes later, it turns musty and bitter and weakens and dies with a cool patchouli breath. It would not have made me happy.

Is it really true that everything was better in the past, even the fragrances? Must I join the chorus of naysayers who claim that today’s scents cannot compare to those of yesterday? In the ranks of the hunters who snag vintages at horrendous prices? I certainly guard my last bit of the vintage "Tabac Blond" like a treasure and dare not open the new bottle. What if a similar disappointment awaits inside ... ?

... that anarchists have to be loud?

First and foremost, anarchists are against the oppression of individual freedom by hierarchies and other mechanisms of power. Self-determination and equality are central principles of an anarchist mindset. Anarchy, in my understanding, can fundamentally be lived in complete silence, provided it meets the needs of the respective anarchist.

"L'Anarchiste" smells green and fruity like a freshly crushed leaf, a freshly cut, blooming orange tree branch, along with a splash of mandarin juice - also just freshly squeezed by hand. Woods and cinnamon give the fragrance depth and a pleasantly light warmth. The autumn sun is shining. It’s a feeling of "being outside." Freedom with that little bit of security that one still needs to feel comfortable. Heart racing. Life.

It fits perfectly.

I really enjoy wearing this fragrance in the office when I think to myself in the morning: "Hmm, this day is actually way too beautiful to spend it in a closed room." It’s also great for actually hanging out outside - weather doesn’t matter, except maybe for the heat of high summer. Right now, it has autumn colors for me, but it’s also just a new addition. I’m very curious to see what I think of it and how I feel about it in winter, spring, and summer!

With mixed feelings, I look at one or another perfume comment where the author is tempted to label a scent as "purely feminine" or - as in this case - as "thoroughly masculine." The quiet triumph I believe I sense in such statements ("At least this scent BELONGS TO US ALONE!") doesn't make it any better. I find it even worse when gender attribution is associated with other adjectives. "Gentle and feminine" or "strong and masculine" - as if these qualities necessarily have something to do with each other. As if "masculine" and "feminine" are even adjectives that could describe scents.

The fundamental annoyance for me is that the reflection on gender stereotypes is far less widespread than one would wish. My personal annoyance is that I absolutely do not want to let such a beautiful scent be spoiled for me. I am a woman and I have scent preferences - and the two have little to do with each other. The nose wants what the nose wants, as the saying goes ...

But now to the essence: "Feuilles de Tabac" appealed to me immediately. It is a nature-connected scent. I had to research what Kaskarilla is. It is probably used in Chypre fragrances to make them spicy and fresh. And yes, that might be where my vague Chypre feeling for this scent comes from. It is warmer, softer, darker than the Chypres I have encountered so far, but they share a certain commonality despite the absence of oakmoss and the citrusy top note. The tobacco note is very subtle to my nose. It is nothing compared to what I have experienced with "Tobacco Vanille" or "Eau des Baux." It harmoniously blends between herbs and spices. The herbs are dry, no longer green. And the spices flow smoothly into gentle patchouli and a background of tonka bean. I cannot detect anything as aggressive as smoke at all.

"Feuilles de Tabac" is a scent for me. I do not wear it when I want to stand out, but really just for myself and because it does me good. That is its character. For it lacks neither longevity nor sillage. It is not loud, but also not too quiet. Self-assured, not boastful. I feel at home in this scent, even when I am somewhere else. I need that sometimes, especially in my profession. It gives me peace.

This one will stay. Because the more often I wear it, the closer it comes to me.

(Erich Maria Remarque)

I confess, "Amber / Ambre" was a blind purchase. The sheer enthusiasm of the comments, the great rating, the longevity, the descriptions - I thought I couldn't go wrong. But I did.

For even though I may now incur the displeasure of the enthusiasts gathered here, I must be allowed to speculate that this fragrance is so popular in part because it is no longer available. For even though I have tried very hard, I still do not recognize what the uniqueness of this scent is supposed to be.

To get straight to the point: "Amber / Ambre" is sweet, rather flat, and not particularly long-lasting. You can't say anything against it, as it smells very pleasant and is not bothersome. But that is not enough for me to give it such a good rating. It is like those people who are so friendly and nice that I simply don't know what the hell to talk about with them. That's boring. As a room fragrance, however, I could imagine it well, because it is simply not demanding and brings that golden-yellow feeling of coziness.

Anyway, if this fragrance were available again for a few euros in every Occitane shop and in one or two Kaufhofs, I dare say that the interest in it would not explode.