Vincer

Maybe.

Maybe some find it fleeting.
Maybe some find it weak.
Maybe some can hardly smell it.

But maybe not.

Maybe it is long-lasting.
Maybe it projects strongly.
Maybe it plays with the noses.

And maybe some don't smell it at all.

Doesn't matter - Vincent is over the moon, because:

Maybe Molecule 01 is as enduring as Hamburger SV in the Bundesliga.
Maybe Molecule 01 is as projecting as the nice, plump woman next door who wears a knockout.
Maybe Molecule 01 is a nose-pleaser like freshly brewed coffee in the nose.

And maybe Molecule 01 is simply an indescribable, absolute hit.

Take a bouquet of flowers from the gas station, some vanilla yogurt from Aldi, orange peels, and a splash of Dooleys, then mix it all together nicely and voilà, the new Sunshine is ready - so some say.
Others, however, identify the expensive florist bouquet, the high-quality orange sorbet wrapped in fluffy cream, adorned with vanilla pods and even a splash of Baileys.

What do I recognize?
Flowers dancing in the wind, picked from paradise, juicy oranges taken from a Spanish garden, vanilla cream made from the milk of a very satisfied and grinning Holstein cow, a splash of Sicilian liqueur "Fior di Latte," and a lot, a lot of sunshine.

For me, Sunshine is the seventh cream heaven,
the epitome of satisfaction and cheerfulness.
A wonderfully individual, extraordinarily sublime, and groundbreaking fragrance,
that reflects like no other the cheerful and exuberant feeling of a picnic
in the sunshine.
A smile to spray on.

From now on, it is my own, indispensable gem.

My fingers are tingling.

Sorry, I have to write with one hand,
the other is stuck to my nose.
My condolences to those who can endure so much - although:
my mouth would be happy if it were served a beef tenderloin
for 100€ every day.

Why is the king dead anyway?
He is not. I'm just being a bit market-savvy here.
The Intense wields the scepter, the perfume even the trident.
Three veils of powder, oud, and grape sugar. World-embracing.

8ancmasd02e30jwdmac... Oh, pardon.. *hand retracts*
Oud meets grape sugar meets powder.
Like a wonderful winter evening with powdery snow.
A dark landscape full of glitter. Yes, exactly,
a little hike in the dark through a winter landscape,
grape sugar is falling like snow and from the windows wafts
a festive scent. Mmmhhhhhjaaaaaa!

"Oft loses the good who seeks better."
Thanks for the tip, dear Vanilla-shake-spear, but I have
now found the better. Anyone who ever questioned Dior Homme Intense as one of the best perfumes of all time gets a fat slap in the face here.
No one could resist two pretty brunettes.

Buy: I want to smell this even more on you!

Buy! Behind me at Edeka.
Buy! To my right at Django Unchained.
Buy! Right in the drugstore, for all I care.
Buy! Just stand somewhere damn it and smell good.

With Dior Homme Parfum you do it again and even more!

You really have to deal with this.
40% and disappointment a year ago.
I said it smelled like lipstick.
I said there was a subtle hint of cocoa.
I said "intense" was the wrong expression.

I've been having nightmares for months.
Secretly pretending to be a layperson in perfume shops.
Tested all versions.
Dior Homme - great.
Dior Homme Sport - great.

Nothing, however, comes close to Dior Homme Intense.
My God, pearls before swine.
It's in every random perfume shop.
"I won't spend €60 on a fragrance," I hear.
"I have other preferences," I perceived.

Please amputate my left arm, otherwise I’ll get a stiff neck from smelling.
Put it in your room.
It will still smell for days.
The right one too, otherwise I’ll try to use my toe to press the sprayer.

Numbers don’t lie.
Even in this forum full of professionals, it ranks very high.
It undoubtedly caters to a very specific niche.
A veeeery specific niche.
It's addicting.

Purchase: I want to smell this on you!

Purchase! In front of me in the supermarket line.
Purchase! Next to me in the cinema.
Purchase! Behind me in the drugstore.
Purchase! Just stand around somewhere and smell good.

With Dior Homme Intense, you do it!

He is a completely normal boy.
A diligent student by day, a pampered son on weekends.
Always polite, always courteous.
That's what society dictates.

It gets dark, he lets loose,
sheds all inhibitions, becomes free, enjoys life.
To be crazy just once, why not?!
The dark drops land without hesitation on neck, wrist, clothing,
leaving behind a faint trace of smoke.

Everything is possible, the world is open to him.
He hardly gets noticed, no one pays attention to him, he is one of many.
Until he walks past them.
Incredulity, confusion, disturbance.

All eyes are on him.
What is that, what an aura?!
The lights shine only on him, he stands in the fog.
An imposing figure.

That is how Black Afgano is for me.
A dark aura that is unmatched.
An herbal radiance that borders on absurdity.
A perfume that completely transforms the person and their surroundings.

A drop that directs life!