Unterholz
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Unterholz
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Ode to the ride-on mower
Lawnmower man!
Start the lawn mower!
Let the stem and stems sprout.
Herbs, greens, small trees
carve the same way.
Don't stop for violets,
Bitter and sweet oranges and bitter and sweet -
and all flower particles.
And up in the sandal branches
cackle with the nutcracker
and sway in their round dance
in the two-stroke of your Tonka Mower.
* *
Children, the good uncle Unterholz is also writing poetry now and will tell you how to do it with the Paföngs
Today it is so that the possibly untrained but inclined perfume interested person / the willing buyer in the exalted state of the collection expansion urge in a department store, a perfumery, drugstore, which is always trying to impress with crazy head note bragging or even to dupe to the perfume purchase
Sprayed briefly in front of the shelf, doesn't smell bad, bought on the spot! At least that's what the ideal scene looks like from the sales staff's point of view
But the freshly flaked pilgrim at home is usually threatened by one or the other sobering experience when the head note bang is long gone and post-coital depression (or at least disillusionment) is already spreading in the form of the final scent phase. On your wrist there is nothing left of the lust-healing top note (and the at best not even bad heart note), but a lukewarm chemical breeze, usually labeled by the manufacturer as "noble / exotic woods" or even "sandalwood" and richly garnished with further fantasy notes of your choice (vanilla=vanillin, guaiac wood=guajacol, amber=ambrox etc.)
I say: Stop your sandalwood rasping! As much sandalwood as the whole industry claims to process and chop up, is no longer vertical. What we have in front of us in most of the sloppy pafum creations is simply the chemical substitute for it and I think that in 90% of the cases it simply smells cheap, clumsy, chemical, unattractive, unsexy and annoying. Or it's simply made!!!
At this point, 80% of all manufacturers / perfume brands / niche scenes / fragrance designers / (optionally using other representatives of the industry) can cut a big slice off Lush. But from the beginning.
When you enter a Lush shop for the first time, you don't get the feeling that you are getting high-quality fragrances under your nose. Most of the time, you are immediately gripped by one of the somewhat over-motivated employees, along with the exuberant bath-ball-bubblegum-gum-gummy bear nimbus, and you are already receptorily completely overwhelmed in the clutches of the company. But if you smile politely and gain the freedom to look around first, you'll end up in front of the Lush perfume shelf. Admittedly, optically there is still air up here, but so be it. We're going to test in peace.
Arrived at home with the applied (but not yet purchased) fragrances, you notice on your wrist sniffing that most Lush creations go the opposite way. The top note may appear a bit hysterical in the shop, as in the case of grass, a too much of green juiciness, somehow squeaky, jumpy, over-excited, as if you were having a bunch of teenage forest elephants with ADHD redesign your garden.
But at some point in the course of Grass, at first one thought of a fun scent commissioned by the Lawn Barber Guild, one swore that this was an absolutely high-quality, well-composed perfume. Where chemistry is used in such a way that it smells GOOD and natural raw materials are also natural raw materials and produce a harmonious overall picture.
I wouldn't put my hand in the fire of truth and say that real sandalwood has been processed here, but it RIGHT simply like good real sandalwood and not like some stupid substitute, which, because it's cheaper, promises shareholders a richer return and the carpet floor thicker dividends...
(exhale)
That was simply meant to be said. Well, I'm gonna go oil my lawn tractor. So that the neighborhood can enjoy its rich sound on this beautiful Saturday afternoon.
Start the lawn mower!
Let the stem and stems sprout.
Herbs, greens, small trees
carve the same way.
Don't stop for violets,
Bitter and sweet oranges and bitter and sweet -
and all flower particles.
And up in the sandal branches
cackle with the nutcracker
and sway in their round dance
in the two-stroke of your Tonka Mower.
* *
Children, the good uncle Unterholz is also writing poetry now and will tell you how to do it with the Paföngs
Today it is so that the possibly untrained but inclined perfume interested person / the willing buyer in the exalted state of the collection expansion urge in a department store, a perfumery, drugstore, which is always trying to impress with crazy head note bragging or even to dupe to the perfume purchase
Sprayed briefly in front of the shelf, doesn't smell bad, bought on the spot! At least that's what the ideal scene looks like from the sales staff's point of view
But the freshly flaked pilgrim at home is usually threatened by one or the other sobering experience when the head note bang is long gone and post-coital depression (or at least disillusionment) is already spreading in the form of the final scent phase. On your wrist there is nothing left of the lust-healing top note (and the at best not even bad heart note), but a lukewarm chemical breeze, usually labeled by the manufacturer as "noble / exotic woods" or even "sandalwood" and richly garnished with further fantasy notes of your choice (vanilla=vanillin, guaiac wood=guajacol, amber=ambrox etc.)
I say: Stop your sandalwood rasping! As much sandalwood as the whole industry claims to process and chop up, is no longer vertical. What we have in front of us in most of the sloppy pafum creations is simply the chemical substitute for it and I think that in 90% of the cases it simply smells cheap, clumsy, chemical, unattractive, unsexy and annoying. Or it's simply made!!!
At this point, 80% of all manufacturers / perfume brands / niche scenes / fragrance designers / (optionally using other representatives of the industry) can cut a big slice off Lush. But from the beginning.
When you enter a Lush shop for the first time, you don't get the feeling that you are getting high-quality fragrances under your nose. Most of the time, you are immediately gripped by one of the somewhat over-motivated employees, along with the exuberant bath-ball-bubblegum-gum-gummy bear nimbus, and you are already receptorily completely overwhelmed in the clutches of the company. But if you smile politely and gain the freedom to look around first, you'll end up in front of the Lush perfume shelf. Admittedly, optically there is still air up here, but so be it. We're going to test in peace.
Arrived at home with the applied (but not yet purchased) fragrances, you notice on your wrist sniffing that most Lush creations go the opposite way. The top note may appear a bit hysterical in the shop, as in the case of grass, a too much of green juiciness, somehow squeaky, jumpy, over-excited, as if you were having a bunch of teenage forest elephants with ADHD redesign your garden.
But at some point in the course of Grass, at first one thought of a fun scent commissioned by the Lawn Barber Guild, one swore that this was an absolutely high-quality, well-composed perfume. Where chemistry is used in such a way that it smells GOOD and natural raw materials are also natural raw materials and produce a harmonious overall picture.
I wouldn't put my hand in the fire of truth and say that real sandalwood has been processed here, but it RIGHT simply like good real sandalwood and not like some stupid substitute, which, because it's cheaper, promises shareholders a richer return and the carpet floor thicker dividends...
(exhale)
That was simply meant to be said. Well, I'm gonna go oil my lawn tractor. So that the neighborhood can enjoy its rich sound on this beautiful Saturday afternoon.
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Colonia mediterranea
In a St. Gallen department store in the grab box I found this Mediterranean Neroli and there I did not have to think long. I had already tried it before; one of the better ones of the Essence series. A tester was also still there and with that it convinced me completely. Meanwhile I find it really good, but on the skin alone it is a little thin. Applied on skin AND textile it looks much denser. That can sometimes make the difference
Some of Zegna's essence(s) seem a bit artificial in the base, so I don't exactly break out into storms of joy with them. A trend, which is not reversible even in the (price-wise) upscale perfumery. This is due to the new IFRA guidelines, but in the end it doesn't always have to be a loss of quality. After all, there are many brands that deliberately play with molecular magic (Escentric Molecules, Pierre Guillaume, Comme des Garçons, etc.) and yet still manage to convince. Med. Neroli on the other hand is very traditional and naturalistic. It is remarkable how the unknown perfumer has succeeded in creating such a fine and unobtrusive staging of Mediterranean landscape(s).
In the centre is clearly Neroli, the flower of the bitter orange tree. The bitter orange blossom is tart, less sweet and lovely than the sweet orange blossom. One gets the impression that petitgrain (leaves of various citrus fruits) still resonates and is greening. Rosemary, lavender and mint also contribute to the image of tangy green flowing plant juices. I recognize bergamot in particular, which fits perfectly into the bitter picture here. At this point I realize: these are all ingredients that make up an Eau de Cologne, in fact Med. Neroli opens with a wonderful cologne accord. Except that Neroli, normally found in a cologne rather at the base (if one can speak of one at such a short-lived pleasure), is immediately present here. Strengthened and juicy accentuated by the mentioned petitgrain.
For me, Med. Neroli is and remains a very potent Eau de Cologne during its course, whose individual parts gain in depth of focus through fine balancing. It is as if the fragrances complement each other ideally here, they are in discourse with each other. Harmony - and yet individual parts remain recognisable. What makes this "cologne" a Mediterranean experience is the skilful integration of lavender and cypress, the latter evoking a gentle image of a Tuscan landscape with soft hills and cypress or pine groves.
I cannot understand the base mentioned in the pyramid in this way. Once again. I don't register Ambroxan, which usually irritates me reliably. Musk sounds plausible at best, although it may enhance the described scent. But to want to recognize a real basis in Med. Neroli is in my opinion not necessary. The fragrance development stops with the heart phase and that suits me, because the durability is really good for such a light perfume (EdT), on my skin after all up to 7 hours
All in all a successful Neroli interpretation, modern by its simplicity and at the same time wonderfully familiar with its Cologne references.
Some of Zegna's essence(s) seem a bit artificial in the base, so I don't exactly break out into storms of joy with them. A trend, which is not reversible even in the (price-wise) upscale perfumery. This is due to the new IFRA guidelines, but in the end it doesn't always have to be a loss of quality. After all, there are many brands that deliberately play with molecular magic (Escentric Molecules, Pierre Guillaume, Comme des Garçons, etc.) and yet still manage to convince. Med. Neroli on the other hand is very traditional and naturalistic. It is remarkable how the unknown perfumer has succeeded in creating such a fine and unobtrusive staging of Mediterranean landscape(s).
In the centre is clearly Neroli, the flower of the bitter orange tree. The bitter orange blossom is tart, less sweet and lovely than the sweet orange blossom. One gets the impression that petitgrain (leaves of various citrus fruits) still resonates and is greening. Rosemary, lavender and mint also contribute to the image of tangy green flowing plant juices. I recognize bergamot in particular, which fits perfectly into the bitter picture here. At this point I realize: these are all ingredients that make up an Eau de Cologne, in fact Med. Neroli opens with a wonderful cologne accord. Except that Neroli, normally found in a cologne rather at the base (if one can speak of one at such a short-lived pleasure), is immediately present here. Strengthened and juicy accentuated by the mentioned petitgrain.
For me, Med. Neroli is and remains a very potent Eau de Cologne during its course, whose individual parts gain in depth of focus through fine balancing. It is as if the fragrances complement each other ideally here, they are in discourse with each other. Harmony - and yet individual parts remain recognisable. What makes this "cologne" a Mediterranean experience is the skilful integration of lavender and cypress, the latter evoking a gentle image of a Tuscan landscape with soft hills and cypress or pine groves.
I cannot understand the base mentioned in the pyramid in this way. Once again. I don't register Ambroxan, which usually irritates me reliably. Musk sounds plausible at best, although it may enhance the described scent. But to want to recognize a real basis in Med. Neroli is in my opinion not necessary. The fragrance development stops with the heart phase and that suits me, because the durability is really good for such a light perfume (EdT), on my skin after all up to 7 hours
All in all a successful Neroli interpretation, modern by its simplicity and at the same time wonderfully familiar with its Cologne references.
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Cooking with laurel or form follows function
Like his fellow perfumers Muschio Biancho and LiboCedro, 1869 would not be a mistake to use for fragrancing Italian hotel sheets. However, it is not a clean scent that makes one think of fabric softener and detergent. It is already a bit more serious. Basically un-citric, unfloral. Somehow wind fresh from the grey-green area. I know freshness actually rather in the form of sourish citrus fruits, soap or in the aldehyde-floral context, whereby in the end mostly some kind of musk has its sparkly clean fingers in play. Here it is a rather leafy than a fruity freshness. Those who have already cooked with laurel (leaves) may recognize this pale green-spicy component. I almost think of green vegetables. Almost. In this respect, 1869 also reminds me a little bit of Comme des Garçons Laurel, only that the latter is even more contrasting to me between natural aesthetics and art/artificiality and thus seems more rustic, where the Acca Kappa gives a more classical picture.
Vegetables - cooking - kitchen: Keywords that might help us in our fragrance description. A restaurant kitchen is not a sensual place, but a structured functional workspace. Even if you as a guest sit in the actual restaurant and (ideally) experience true culinary delights, the kitchen is more of an operating theatre than a creative laboratory and devoid of all sensuality. That doesn't sound charming in combination with a fragrance, but the kitchen comparison may be appropriate after all and should not be given a negative connotation. A kitchen where the food is prepared and eaten later is something basic, necessary and structured. 1869 also follows this principle of form follows function. A fragrance as formal refreshment, as a serious accompaniment, but not a statement. Noticeable is not his job. Here again, one could see the starched white cotton of the restaurant staff mediating between house and guest. Visible and invisible at the same time.
In 1869, musk plays the leading role, although not indicated in the pyramid. Not a soapy one, a very subtle dry-powdery-creamy-clean one. 1869 is from start to finish of the freshly-leaved variety, on a woody musky background. The wearer is spared unpleasant changes. I deliberately write Träger, because I do not see 1869 on a woman. Overall "well blended", dry-clean perfect timing. A glance at the pyramid seems to confirm each of the notes mentioned, yet I could probably not smell a single one in a blind test. So that's pretty well done. However, as an ambergris, I do not perceive the base at any time. It's possible that sweet ingredients give the fragrance a certain volume, but in the end there's nothing here that points in an oriental direction. Dryer is not possible.
The Acca Kappa brand offers a manageable collection of fragrances and does not immediately follow every trend. They seem to concentrate entirely on the beautiful range of care products. As far as I can judge, at least the shaving range is paraben-, silicone- and petroleum-free. I have not found out anything about animal testing. I always like it when you can get to know a low-threshold fragrance with a skin care product, after shave or shaving foam. Ideal to test if the scent does not dissipate after one week
Vegetables - cooking - kitchen: Keywords that might help us in our fragrance description. A restaurant kitchen is not a sensual place, but a structured functional workspace. Even if you as a guest sit in the actual restaurant and (ideally) experience true culinary delights, the kitchen is more of an operating theatre than a creative laboratory and devoid of all sensuality. That doesn't sound charming in combination with a fragrance, but the kitchen comparison may be appropriate after all and should not be given a negative connotation. A kitchen where the food is prepared and eaten later is something basic, necessary and structured. 1869 also follows this principle of form follows function. A fragrance as formal refreshment, as a serious accompaniment, but not a statement. Noticeable is not his job. Here again, one could see the starched white cotton of the restaurant staff mediating between house and guest. Visible and invisible at the same time.
In 1869, musk plays the leading role, although not indicated in the pyramid. Not a soapy one, a very subtle dry-powdery-creamy-clean one. 1869 is from start to finish of the freshly-leaved variety, on a woody musky background. The wearer is spared unpleasant changes. I deliberately write Träger, because I do not see 1869 on a woman. Overall "well blended", dry-clean perfect timing. A glance at the pyramid seems to confirm each of the notes mentioned, yet I could probably not smell a single one in a blind test. So that's pretty well done. However, as an ambergris, I do not perceive the base at any time. It's possible that sweet ingredients give the fragrance a certain volume, but in the end there's nothing here that points in an oriental direction. Dryer is not possible.
The Acca Kappa brand offers a manageable collection of fragrances and does not immediately follow every trend. They seem to concentrate entirely on the beautiful range of care products. As far as I can judge, at least the shaving range is paraben-, silicone- and petroleum-free. I have not found out anything about animal testing. I always like it when you can get to know a low-threshold fragrance with a skin care product, after shave or shaving foam. Ideal to test if the scent does not dissipate after one week
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Lust is a kind of completion of action
Currently I am approaching incense. A note that is difficult for me. I often find incense in perfumes as dominant, distracting or even (dis-)destroying. Monothematic fragrances with it are quite difficult, depending on which aspects of the incense resin are brought out: balsamic, resinous, camphoric, sticky, coniferous, smoky, sweet, tarry, citric...
Long preface, short sense: I like incense only "bright". Unsweet, woody, green or in a hesperidic context. With reservation also with floral accompaniments like rose, lavender or jasmine. What overstrains me is the combination with vanilla or (too much) amber, leather, oud or if it simply smells cute, too resinous or sticky.
When it comes to the raw material, it is said that the best quality is the so-called olibanum. A light incense variety from the Arabian Peninsula, harvested in "late harvest" and sold in thick light yellow "tears". It covers virtually the entire above-mentioned aroma profile and has the deepest radiance.
There is probably no other fragrance that is so necessarily associated with spirituality and religiosity as incense. One reason why there are some fragrances with religiously inspired titles: Cardinal, Encens Flamboyant, Messe de Minuit, Avignon, Zagorsk, Passage d' Enfer, Mea Culpa etc.
A perfumer cannot disregard the reference to the holy incense at all. The only way to confirm these prejudices or counteract them is to do something that nobody expects... I'm thinking of the abstract incense in Prada's Infusion d'Homme or Serge Lutens' L'Eau froide.
Lorenzo Villoresi must have taken the quote from Thomas Aquinas in the title as a model for his creation. His pleasure is that of seduction, deception and a tendency to punch lines à la "The Emperor's New Clothes"! And his incentive - attention plural: incense! - is rather between tables and chairs concerning my previous experiences with incense. Maybe the Villoresi is smiling himself into his face
A potent incense is perceptible during the entire fragrance process. I think that different raw materials were used, possibly also the related elemi-resin. It appears fresh, hardly resinous, not even smoky and is more of the citric-conifer type. It is interesting how Villoresi further develops the fragrance. The gourmand, fruity opening with apple, cinnamon, acidified with a little lemon or bergamot, seems almost absurd in this context. Funfair? Christmas? Epiphany? Pot Pourri? Apple sauce with cinnamon? Holy Moly!
Although Incensi never gets really sweet during its entire course, it has a certain fruit volume from the beginning. Pear syrup instead of sugar. Cinnamon is always perceptible, you have to like that, I think a nasty portion of styrax resin was used here, which can smell very cinnamony. Incensi changes very little, there is no talk of a classic 3 phase scent. You can quickly perceive sandalwood, melted, even a bit salty (almost sausagey fleshy) soft balsamic notes, which are the cornerstones of the perfume and carry the incense with them like in a palanquin. It's actually only the very last thing that it disappears into nirvana, while a few sweet-balsamic notes have to remain here to manage its apotheosis.
A coordinated and yet very individual composition. The projection should not be underestimated with this perfume and the durability is very good. I'm just not sure if I should find Incensi really successful or if it's a nasty joke by the perfumer, as feared. And further, whether one is often in the mood for such a fruity and luscious scent. I immediately think of the Fall of Man in paradise and how Hieronymus Bosch's obscene hidden object images stage this story with relish. Devil, woman (or guy), lust, temptation and seduction are eternally tempting... A huge uprising, by humans, angels and demons!
But in Villoresi, man is not the victim of a punishing, angry God as in the Old Testament, but the plaything of a whole pantheon. A piece of flesh, a vessel to seduce, to lose oneself in, to fill, to influence and to pass around. In the sexual as well as the spiritual sense. The ancient story of gods, priests and men. But the last question is: Who is the perpetrator here, who is the victim?
Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree
I travel the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something
Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused
(Eurythmics)
Long preface, short sense: I like incense only "bright". Unsweet, woody, green or in a hesperidic context. With reservation also with floral accompaniments like rose, lavender or jasmine. What overstrains me is the combination with vanilla or (too much) amber, leather, oud or if it simply smells cute, too resinous or sticky.
When it comes to the raw material, it is said that the best quality is the so-called olibanum. A light incense variety from the Arabian Peninsula, harvested in "late harvest" and sold in thick light yellow "tears". It covers virtually the entire above-mentioned aroma profile and has the deepest radiance.
There is probably no other fragrance that is so necessarily associated with spirituality and religiosity as incense. One reason why there are some fragrances with religiously inspired titles: Cardinal, Encens Flamboyant, Messe de Minuit, Avignon, Zagorsk, Passage d' Enfer, Mea Culpa etc.
A perfumer cannot disregard the reference to the holy incense at all. The only way to confirm these prejudices or counteract them is to do something that nobody expects... I'm thinking of the abstract incense in Prada's Infusion d'Homme or Serge Lutens' L'Eau froide.
Lorenzo Villoresi must have taken the quote from Thomas Aquinas in the title as a model for his creation. His pleasure is that of seduction, deception and a tendency to punch lines à la "The Emperor's New Clothes"! And his incentive - attention plural: incense! - is rather between tables and chairs concerning my previous experiences with incense. Maybe the Villoresi is smiling himself into his face
A potent incense is perceptible during the entire fragrance process. I think that different raw materials were used, possibly also the related elemi-resin. It appears fresh, hardly resinous, not even smoky and is more of the citric-conifer type. It is interesting how Villoresi further develops the fragrance. The gourmand, fruity opening with apple, cinnamon, acidified with a little lemon or bergamot, seems almost absurd in this context. Funfair? Christmas? Epiphany? Pot Pourri? Apple sauce with cinnamon? Holy Moly!
Although Incensi never gets really sweet during its entire course, it has a certain fruit volume from the beginning. Pear syrup instead of sugar. Cinnamon is always perceptible, you have to like that, I think a nasty portion of styrax resin was used here, which can smell very cinnamony. Incensi changes very little, there is no talk of a classic 3 phase scent. You can quickly perceive sandalwood, melted, even a bit salty (almost sausagey fleshy) soft balsamic notes, which are the cornerstones of the perfume and carry the incense with them like in a palanquin. It's actually only the very last thing that it disappears into nirvana, while a few sweet-balsamic notes have to remain here to manage its apotheosis.
A coordinated and yet very individual composition. The projection should not be underestimated with this perfume and the durability is very good. I'm just not sure if I should find Incensi really successful or if it's a nasty joke by the perfumer, as feared. And further, whether one is often in the mood for such a fruity and luscious scent. I immediately think of the Fall of Man in paradise and how Hieronymus Bosch's obscene hidden object images stage this story with relish. Devil, woman (or guy), lust, temptation and seduction are eternally tempting... A huge uprising, by humans, angels and demons!
But in Villoresi, man is not the victim of a punishing, angry God as in the Old Testament, but the plaything of a whole pantheon. A piece of flesh, a vessel to seduce, to lose oneself in, to fill, to influence and to pass around. In the sexual as well as the spiritual sense. The ancient story of gods, priests and men. But the last question is: Who is the perpetrator here, who is the victim?
Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree
I travel the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something
Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused
(Eurythmics)
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New rich and sexy!
For me, Xerjoff stands prominently for those umpteen pseudo-luxury brands where marketing and packaging are not quite in proportion to the actual content. This is not forbidden, but it is also far from pleasant.
Nevertheless, there are a few Xerjoffs that I think are quite successful. The prices of the Italian perfumers are salted, even if the quality of the products is basically not bad. But that doesn't mean that I'm willing to pay more than 250.-Euro (50 mL) for one of the beautiful oud stars, for example, I simply exceed a pain threshold. And again and again one discovers alternatives that are in the moderate price range and just as well made. 170.-Euro for the Renaissance (100 mL EdT) is just ok for such a "light" composition. So I treated myself to this one for the summer despite my above scruples, it's just too good. When I tested it for the first time a few years ago, I gave it the highest mark. And that doesn't happen often. But then I was surprised, has it been reformulated in the meantime? Interestingly, I remembered it a little differently.
From the composition quite simply held, this is above all a broad citrus scent. The generic term "citrus" has rarely been used more beautifully. Lemon? Tangerine? Grapefruit? Bergamot? Probably a little bit of everyone. Sparkling, subtle, realistic and at the same time a little artificial, airy, sourly refreshing - all vitamins in it - and with a herbal addition (mint and possibly rosemary?) it never seems flat. Maybe it is also the petitgrain, which produces a nice leaf-green unfruity tonic bitterness. The citrus fruits get a slightly dry-creamy undertone (no Nivea!), without having been mixed with the big musk scoop. That fits. The floral components only play a role for me to the extent that I perceive the fragrance as harmoniously holistic, perhaps some jasmine can be guessed at. Despite the "Amber" being mentioned, there is nothing sweet about it. It is also interesting that the citrus notes last extremely long, the devil knows how the Italos do it (Paradisamide?). But as a citrus fetishist this is only right for me.
Now to the differences to the new(?) version. I found the top note more sparkling, more like grapefruit. What I liked very much at that time was a nice cedar from the beginning, I take Texas cedar, with this characteristic cumin-like, slightly sweaty note. I think it just expands clean or citrusy scents with a slightly soiled component. An ideal duo with a slightly earthy patch that is hard to guess when new. Overall, the new fragrance seems a bit more artificial, less sparkling, more linear, and without the beautiful almost animalistic cedar note. For this you get one point deduction.
Since I like to order test tubes with a fragrance, I have made a selection online at Xerjoff. The delivery of the order is impressive: a huge package, which in turn contains a white Snow White coffin box as big as a Mastaba. Inside is once again the individual products, wrapped in recycled tissue paper. The samples are of course embedded in plasticized "Xerjoff-Universe" cardboard blocks with a purple art velvet interior. Phew, and the Renaissance flacon was faithfully wrapped in cardboard like a pharaoh according to the layer principle. Finally, the flacon rests in an oversized imitation leather sarcophagus. Why is this? I appreciate careful packaging, but this is disproportionate. Cheesy junk. Especially since the far too nice wrappings end up in the repository anyway. Even in the luxury industry, you have to think about the fact that you can also pack something nice in an environmentally friendly way. Personally, I think it's unsexy to produce so much waste for a fragrance and it will probably keep me from buying another Xerjoff.
If you enjoy dry-woody-creamy hesperidia scents without a dramatic scent, you should test here.
This Xerjoff is certainly not "great cinema", but precisely because of its low profile it doesn't really fit into the brand's broad-based portfolio at all. For me probably just therefore a half bull's eye.
Nevertheless, there are a few Xerjoffs that I think are quite successful. The prices of the Italian perfumers are salted, even if the quality of the products is basically not bad. But that doesn't mean that I'm willing to pay more than 250.-Euro (50 mL) for one of the beautiful oud stars, for example, I simply exceed a pain threshold. And again and again one discovers alternatives that are in the moderate price range and just as well made. 170.-Euro for the Renaissance (100 mL EdT) is just ok for such a "light" composition. So I treated myself to this one for the summer despite my above scruples, it's just too good. When I tested it for the first time a few years ago, I gave it the highest mark. And that doesn't happen often. But then I was surprised, has it been reformulated in the meantime? Interestingly, I remembered it a little differently.
From the composition quite simply held, this is above all a broad citrus scent. The generic term "citrus" has rarely been used more beautifully. Lemon? Tangerine? Grapefruit? Bergamot? Probably a little bit of everyone. Sparkling, subtle, realistic and at the same time a little artificial, airy, sourly refreshing - all vitamins in it - and with a herbal addition (mint and possibly rosemary?) it never seems flat. Maybe it is also the petitgrain, which produces a nice leaf-green unfruity tonic bitterness. The citrus fruits get a slightly dry-creamy undertone (no Nivea!), without having been mixed with the big musk scoop. That fits. The floral components only play a role for me to the extent that I perceive the fragrance as harmoniously holistic, perhaps some jasmine can be guessed at. Despite the "Amber" being mentioned, there is nothing sweet about it. It is also interesting that the citrus notes last extremely long, the devil knows how the Italos do it (Paradisamide?). But as a citrus fetishist this is only right for me.
Now to the differences to the new(?) version. I found the top note more sparkling, more like grapefruit. What I liked very much at that time was a nice cedar from the beginning, I take Texas cedar, with this characteristic cumin-like, slightly sweaty note. I think it just expands clean or citrusy scents with a slightly soiled component. An ideal duo with a slightly earthy patch that is hard to guess when new. Overall, the new fragrance seems a bit more artificial, less sparkling, more linear, and without the beautiful almost animalistic cedar note. For this you get one point deduction.
Since I like to order test tubes with a fragrance, I have made a selection online at Xerjoff. The delivery of the order is impressive: a huge package, which in turn contains a white Snow White coffin box as big as a Mastaba. Inside is once again the individual products, wrapped in recycled tissue paper. The samples are of course embedded in plasticized "Xerjoff-Universe" cardboard blocks with a purple art velvet interior. Phew, and the Renaissance flacon was faithfully wrapped in cardboard like a pharaoh according to the layer principle. Finally, the flacon rests in an oversized imitation leather sarcophagus. Why is this? I appreciate careful packaging, but this is disproportionate. Cheesy junk. Especially since the far too nice wrappings end up in the repository anyway. Even in the luxury industry, you have to think about the fact that you can also pack something nice in an environmentally friendly way. Personally, I think it's unsexy to produce so much waste for a fragrance and it will probably keep me from buying another Xerjoff.
If you enjoy dry-woody-creamy hesperidia scents without a dramatic scent, you should test here.
This Xerjoff is certainly not "great cinema", but precisely because of its low profile it doesn't really fit into the brand's broad-based portfolio at all. For me probably just therefore a half bull's eye.
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