Yatagan

Caution: Only read on if you can handle irony!

You should definitely not wear this fragrance on New Year's Eve because it doesn't cost much and what's cheap can't be worth anything after all, so the stuff certainly won't impress your friends! What's more, it doesn't go with your new SUV and that would be the least you could do!

You should definitely not wear this fragrance on New Year's Eve because the bottle looks so terribly cheap - not even a little retro - and your girlfriend will definitely not like it: It doesn't go with her new Gucci fumble and if you put it in her bathroom, she'll kick you out before the New Year's Eve party in the worst case scenario.

You should definitely not wear this fragrance on New Year's Eve because it doesn't smell of green apple, synthetic oud and saffron and you'll immediately attract the attention of your new friends: that's no way to maintain your corporate identity in a luxury club!

You should definitely not wear this fragrance on New Year's Eve because it lasts less than 6 hours and you would have to use up a whole bottle to keep up with your friends' latest scents. After midnight at the latest, you will smell like NOTHING.

You should definitely not wear this fragrance on New Year's Eve, because the sillage would only be noticed by your neighbors, but you want to scent the whole club. By now at the latest, the decision has been made anyway.

You CAN wear this fragrance if you want to give preference to an old classic, have already worn "Pour Un Homme de Caron (1934) (Eau de Toilette) | Caron", "Pour Monsieur (Eau de Toilette) / A Gentleman's Cologne / For Men | Chanel", "Eau Sauvage (Eau de Toilette) | Dior" and similar inconspicuous old fragrances in recent years and no longer know what else would come into question. Maybe that wouldn't even be a bad choice: creaky, spicy and woody fougère fragrances are supposed to be back in fashion soon - and maybe you'll be the first to notice this new trend and can post it on Instagram.

I wish all classic fans, niche fragrance wearers, mainstream lovers and drugstore connoisseurs as well as all the other lovely people on Parfumo a wonderful Old Year's Eve and a happy and healthy 2024!

Your Yatagan

Manufactum-Versand stands for sustainable, in the best sense of the word "good" goods that are not made for disposable consumption, but for long-term use and durability: a window into the good old days when products were still mainly made in manufactories - partly by hand and from robust materials. Both the catalog and the homepage bear witness to a classic and traditional aesthetic. It is even nicer to visit one of the Manufactum department stores, where the products are stylishly presented in wooden cabinets. It's not cheap and perhaps even a little elitist, but the investment is often worth it, as many of the products are made to last a lifetime. There is also a beautiful, almost loving selection of fragrances (including Knize, Klar, Trumper and various monastic products), including a whole range from the French brand Panier des Sens, including many classic floral fragrances such as rose and orange blossom, then lavender and of course verbena - and finally "L'Olivier | Panier des Sens", the brand's only fragrance explicitly categorized as a men's perfume.

If you are put off by the hint of maritime notes, you may still want to try it out: the aquatic accents are very subtle on the skin and are reminiscent of a fine skin cream, but remain noticeable throughout the entire fragrance. The green-woody and stylishly bitter aromatic scent of olive leaves, which are rarely used in fragrances, is much more striking; I am particularly familiar with it from "Vert des Bois | Tom Ford" and in the milky green, unconventionally bitter "Candour | Humięcki & Graef", to make a far-fetched and only remotely appropriate comparison.

Not everyone will find this fragrance particularly appealing: the charm of "L'Olivier | Panier des Sens" only reveals itself very subtly on the second and third attempts, remaining rather close to the skin, but with a quite good, but very quiet persistence of a few hours, which is more apparent to the wearer than to the environment

A final note: In contrast to many other products sold by Manufactum, "L'Olivier | Panier des Sens" is very reasonably priced, as 50 ml in sustainable packaging without plastic, foil or coating (in line with Manufactum's shipping policy) costs just over 40 euros.

Unfortunately, you don't always know what you're going to receive as a fragrance at Christmas, which is why I gave myself this one.

Merry Christmas!
Yatagan

Heidelberg is not only an attraction (for all people with a soul) because of its old town, its fairytale castle and as the center of Heidelberg Romanticism / German Romanticism (Achim von Arnim, Clemens Brentano), but also because of some really beautiful traditional stores in the baroque and classicist kilometer-long pedestrian zone. These include the headquarters of the Klar soap factory, which is one of the oldest of its kind in Germany (founded in 1840) and can therefore compete with the oldest fragrance factories in the world, even though initially only soaps were boiled and perfumed there. Fragrances were only added later. More details can be found on the really beautiful and informative homepage.

I am irresistibly drawn to such venerable traditions, which is why I gave the fragrances from Klar vor Ort that I tested many years ago another chance. I actually like them all more or less, but as I was looking for a well-tolerated aftershave, I opted for the "Classic Aftershave | Klar Soaps" as a souvenir from Heidelberg, which is indeed wonderfully classic and therefore also has a distinct bergamot note in the opening, it is quite alcoholically sharp, as befits a somewhat rustic aftershave (I avoid the term aftershave), but then quickly develops soft floral tones (white blossom and rose geranium in the English manner) and then fades into a woody base with subtle musk. The EdT is said to contain cassis, which I also notice in the aftershave; moreover, the nutmeg mentioned there is very plausible, as the fragrance is characterized by a fine, distinctive spiciness that is not at all reminiscent of the currently popular pepper. Incidentally, the legendary "Russian Leather (Eau de Toilette) | Johann Maria Farina opposite Jülichs-Platz" by Farina, which was launched in 1967, is somewhat similar in structure and is also said to contain leather in the base note. Fortunately, these traditional fragrances are not supposed to contain a leather note à la Tuscan Leather, but rather a blend of ambergris, labdanum and perhaps birch tar, but here it is so delicate that the components are virtually imperceptible. There is only an underlying hint that gives the fragrance or aftershave a warm shimmer, like leather that has been tanned and then perfumed in the past.

For people with a soul and a sense for melancholy moments in life.

*Please note: This commentary was written for wet-shaving men who want a well-tolerated but pungent (i.e. stimulating) aftershave - or for women / other men who would like to give one to their husbands. After all, lively men can be useful.

Unannotated fragrances No. 176

Let's face it: some of us, whose first fragrance experiences date back to the 70s, 80s or early 90s, are the ghost drivers of the modern fragrance industry (and I use this phrase deliberately), whose lurching attempts to avoid the oncoming traffic of various designer and niche novelties seem as helpless as wearing antiquated, beautiful Harris Tweed jackets. To avoid any misunderstandings: I count myself among those anachronistic dinosaurs who have a fondness for old so-called men's fragrances (and really nice old so-called women's fragrances), even though a well-made fragrance can and should be worn by all genders.

Penhaligon's used to be one of those quasi-unknown, somewhat whimsical English brands in Germany that nobody knew - except for those who had a catalog from Lothar Ruff from Berlin in the days before the Internet, who enthusiastically praised such fragrances, introduced them to Germany in a complicated way, was ridiculed by the masses, but adored by fans. I was able to get to know him personally, which I am seriously proud of. Back then, Penhaligon's offered a few fragrances in these strangely nostalgic bottles emblazoned with the warrant of Prince Charles (the former name of the English king), some of which have been produced almost unchanged since 1872, e.g. the fantastically beautiful "Hammam Bouquet (Eau de Toilette) | Penhaligon's". Then there was the bitter green-citric "Blenheim Bouquet (Eau de Toilette) | Penhaligon's" (often compared to rubbing alcohol, if anyone still knows it) and a few others that hardly anyone except Charles had ever smelled - and that was it. But they were all good and actually blueprints for fragrance families that still play a role today, such as "Fougère" ("English Fern (Eau de Toilette) | Penhaligon's").

Then came the niche market and someone at Penhaligon's must have realized that they had actually always been niche and therefore far ahead instead of behind. In ever shorter succession, they brought out flacons with funny animal heads, with something in them that smells good and that you can occasionally like if you want to - and after all the animals you know from English zoos had been used up, they had to think of something new: In addition to various other lines such as Trade Routes, now "Potions & Remedies".

My expectations have now sunk so low that I almost assume that the quality of the contents is in inverse proportion to the aesthetics of the bottles and so I was afraid that the new series in beautiful bottles in the old Penhaligon's design would be very banal again. To make a long story short: I don't actually know because I won't be testing them again unless they happen to cross my olfactory path via various swap chains.

I only wanted to test "Potions & Remedies - Eau the Audacity | Penhaligon's" because orange blossom, rose, elemi and incense appeal to me as much as ambergris, leather and vanilla put me off (because I think of ambroxan, synthetic postmodern leather notes and penetrating sweetness) and the result is indeed sobering: the latter accents assert themselves and drown in a powdery sweetness, which is perhaps intensified by the incense. Whatever other part the saffron blossom plays here. The floral notes basically disappear and what this has to do with boldness (audacity) remains a mystery that I no longer want to solve: "We stand disappointed ourselves and see affected / The curtain closed and all questions open" (Bertolt Brecht).

Uncomment fragrances No. 165

If one writes after many months (moons) once again a review and in addition still to a Caron fragrance that has not yet been reviewed here and spread, then it may be that some readers expect a great fragrance. That is not the case here. So much in advance.

The fragrance also does not do justice to the perhaps most famous German poem from the Romantic era (by Eichendorff) mentioned in the title (if you don't know Mondnacht, read it as soon as possible: the expectations associated with it are thoroughly missed).

Also that the few ratings fluctuate between 6.0 and 9.0, is not surprising: the fragrance has something and at the same time not - and that is easily explained by the ozonic notes, which are strongly in the foreground. Also, the guaiac wood (somewhat artificial, as it usually is), doesn't just show up in the base, but very early on in the middle section, and when you add the two together, you're right where most drugstore scents have their inner middle: at a somewhat sterile, ozonic fresh, artificially woody scent that you could also get cheaper. In itself, however, this seems quite appropriate to me, because this Caron fragrance was developed in these surprisingly changeable times by perhaps the second most important traditional brand in France (to be ranked behind Guerlain, of course, in any case) for a French drugstore and perfumery chain and therefore never really landed in the broad market, let alone in Germany. Listen and be amazed. So what it under Ernest Daltroff, the grand seigneur of Caron, also did not give.

Much more would not be to say about this fragrance actually at all, were there not a nostalgic touch that reminds me of some obscure 70s fragrance and if more concrete associations with me to it, I will note them here under P.S.. By the way, it is this touch that somehow makes the fragrance seem very pleasant to me. For the time being, I would helpfully locate it where the first quite inexpensive sea breeze fragrances can be found, namely around Bleu Marine by Pierre Cardin (see there). The numerous notes colorfully listed with Bleu Marine are of course nonsense, instead probably only describe what one wanted to talk the buyer into olfactorily. Bleu Marine was and is also a more or less synthetic fragrance. At least Caron is more honest with its fresh night