Toppine

I find myself in an oasis of beauty. Around me, muted colors, bright, filtered light, transparent white, soft music. In a ballet room, the students stand at the barre in their white tutus, practicing Pas de Deux, Plié, Attitude, and other positions. Some of them dance around the room, swirling their pirouettes and arabesques. The evil of the world is excluded for a few hours. An oasis that lives off itself and has no place for banality. An aura of "art" surrounds me.

This is somehow already beautiful and applies to all 5 fragrances from Perfumer H that I have tested so far.
I chose "Dust" because it is a bit more present and fits well with the image of the students with its white, dusty iris opening. A strict, austere scent, too disciplined for me (but I also didn’t complete my ballet training...). Over time, it becomes resinous and thus softer with a thick coat of musk. I find it rather unsweet despite the tonka and vanilla. A very dry, classic fragrance that lacks a bit of sweetness. It wants to please with its beauty, but not at any cost.
I would compare it to "Le Cri" or "Belles Rives," the latter being much more accessible.

As well made as Lyn Harris's fragrances certainly are, they do have a disadvantage: they are a bit too similar and all surrounded by this deliberately seeming "I am art" aura. Delicate, soft, transparent, and ethereal. Intentionally muted. When I wear them, I can only glide softly and silently over the ground. Elephants become butterflies....

I miss counterpoints, distinguishing features that make a fragrance unique and alive for me. Too much beauty suffocates me. It may be that the perfumer has reached her goal after over 30 years in the profession. However, for me, this goal is too lofty and lifeless. However, I have only tested five from the extensive range. Perhaps I simply missed the "knockouts."

Floral saffron,
interwoven with ethereal green
Dark brown polished wood with earthy patchouli
A bit sweaty, but without sweat
Woven smoke - transparency

This could have been my statement, if space had allowed and I had only a few sensations associated with the fragrance. But this is no ordinary scent. Rather, it leaves me somewhat perplexed. Singular Oud is ambivalent, and so are my impressions. Not a flowing fragrance, yet still variable. Powerful, without really being strong. Dominant, but lightened by a delicate softness.

Even the opening is full of contrasts and truly very appealing. The first spicy floral cloud quickly makes way for dark wood - a large table, often treated with furniture polish and beeswax. Ethereal green still wafts through the scents, bringing bright light reflections, but patchouli is already announcing itself. A very earthy, strong patchouli that permeates and floods the entire fragrance. Only kept in check by the woven smoke, which provides a fine transparency.

If it weren't for this slight sweaty note, I wouldn't really notice Oud at all. It has a human touch, but remains free of any unpleasant sweat or stable odors. The fragrance could also be - more fitting for me - called "Singular Patchouli." The name wouldn't matter, as I can't define this scent anyway. It is dark, yet over the dark notes hovers a fluffy lightness that softens the heaviness. It is present, but feels slightly muted and restrained to me. A fine sweetness also makes it gentle and soft.

A fragrance in a between world, not precise, not easy to grasp, but thus very attractive. A butterfly cloud over a flower bed. Beauty through harmony in interplay. I can't really grasp the scent, but I don't want to either. Singular Oud - a very special singularity.

This is not a perfume. This is fragrant music. Music that goes straight to the gut without detours. Not intellectual, not filtered, and not trimmed for good manners and beauty. Instead, it offers a powerful, pleasantly scented rhythm. Blues-rock at its finest.

Lime, champagne, gin? Could be, it definitely sparkles. From the very beginning, there is weight and presence. Anyone who has ever seen the wonderful concert film "Stop Making Sense" about the Talking Heads knows what I'm talking about. David Byrne steps onto the stage, and it starts slowly and rhythmically until the rest of the band joins in. Just like here. And then the scent hits me like "Burning Down the House" in my ears and nose. What an opening... I switch to "Once in a Lifetime" as the introduction calms down a bit.

Iris, violets, jasmine, and other floral notes? I don't care, notes are not important here at all. They only add little flashes of light to the voodoo magic. Moreover, the peppery leather quickly makes an appearance, very sexy and expansive. Together with a hefty dose of smoke. Both together leave only room for old classics like "Stairway to Heaven" or "Another Brick in the Wall" or whatever you want. Ginger Baker's drum solo from Cream's "Toad" fits perfectly, but it's hardcore...

The smoky leather greens and calms down slowly. What remains has soft tones and gently puts me in a tranquil state. I think of "Rough God Goes Riding" by Van Morrison with its wonderful saxophone solos. This is how the scent fades out, beautifully...

Despite all the psychedelic rockiness, Voodoo Flower is indeed dominant and present, but never loud or intrusive. A very physical scent for the nose and ears that immediately sparks a movie in my head. Yet it is completely wearable.

My two previous commentators also perceived the music in this scent. Marilyn Manson is not for me, but the world is colorful. Floyd was inspired by Jimi Hendrix. I would love to follow that, but it doesn't work. Unfortunately, I don't hear the howling, screeching, endlessly looping Fender here.

The perfume has a wonderfully fitting name.

As the engine roared to life behind her, she began to run. Last night she had dreamed that something special would happen today, but a clear memory was lacking. Somehow eerie. She should be careful.

She ran faster when she was suddenly enveloped by a delicious cloud of fragrance, intoxicatingly strong. She stopped and took a deep breath. Lilac, what a sensation, a real flash! She saw the large, fully bloomed lilac bush standing at the edge of a small park. Lilac - her favorite spring scent - today it was particularly intense. She could hardly tear herself away and tried to absorb the fragrance completely. It should stay with her.....

In the square next door, there was a weekly market, and she decided to let herself be swept away in the crowd of visitors.
The sweetness of the purple lilac blossoms still surrounded her, but now other scents were joining in. Other flowers that nestled into the lilac. She passed a bread stand and enjoyed the aroma of freshly baked wheat bread that wafted into her nose. Breakfast again, that would be just right! Her steps quickened, leading her past the fruit and vegetable stalls that exuded fine orangey aromas. Now a faint scent of cucumber joined in with a juicy watery aura, almost like after a rain shower when the smells of the rain mix with those of the street. The lilac wrapped everything in a gentle, fresh, transparent cloud. She felt good and laughed at her morning fears.

A man tapped her on the shoulder:
"I wanted to follow you earlier and give you your card that you forgot during your perfume search with us. And I have a sample of a really great lilac scent for you. It's from a famous perfumer who makes such beautiful spring fragrances. Maybe you'll like it."

She nodded and smiled.

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to test Kyoto again. I have known it for years, just like most of you probably have as well. In my 5-year-old statement, I rated the fragrance only moderately because I obviously found the sillage, etc., insufficient. Back then, I at least conceded that Kyoto is meditative. Well, at least! Such a statement does not do justice to this exceptional fragrance.

For it is definitely an exceptional fragrance. A frankincense scent and yet not. Kyoto evokes the old, still-practiced tradition of the Buddhist Kodo incense ceremony, where various fragrant woods are burned, allowing the scent of the smoke to blend with that of the wood. Not an opulent Arabic or dark sacred resin incense, but a bright, gentle, slightly cool smoke that gives the scent of cedar and cypress wood space to unfold. The uniqueness of Kyoto lies in the fact that the smoke does not overpower the scent of the woods and other ingredients, but allows for a delicate interplay of aromas.

In the base, the woods dominate with support from patchouli and amber. Vetiver adds a distinct green accent. A wonderful, green-woody, and grounded base.

Kyoto is not only very meditative; it is a clear, bright, extraordinary fragrance that conveys peaceful calm and serenity. With its interplay of smoke and wood, Kyoto never becomes boring. Despite its uniqueness, it is completely wearable and, in my opinion, also elegant.

In my search for fragrances with bright incense, I also came across Sancti back then. Again, bright smoke, cedar, and cypress. To this day, Sancti is the fragrance that is most similar to Kyoto for me. Nevertheless, it feels completely different due to its citrusy freshness. I would love to wear Sancti on a summer evening, while I don’t think about seasons at all with Kyoto. Kyoto knows no time and space, no winter and summer.......

If I were to name a fragrance that evokes a similar mood in me as Kyoto, it would be 'Citta di Kyoto'. Both are fragrances to breathe out.....

So, nothing to complain about? Well, a tiny bit: I can’t detect the coffee, but I can live with that. And before we completely sink into meditation, here’s a little, down-to-earth tree poem from one of my favorite authors:

"Cypress trees do not only
annoy tourists.
If the tourist is missing, the cypress
might just fall on its own face." (Robert Gernhardt)

I think the old Buddhists would have liked that too!