Zewana

I was very curious about this exclusive little fragrance from Ormonde. Terra has really detailed and described it very authentically, and he has a much finer nose than I do.

I would like to differentiate and add that the Ormonde opening of this noble little water hit me like an explosion. As if the scent was happy to finally escape from its tight prison. I was hit with alcohol, patchouli, bergamot, and juniper with a hint of lemon peel right in the nose. Wow, I thought, this could be fun.

So, if Mr. Schön can do one thing, it is to give his fragrances such an opening that you have to pay attention - and that is the purpose of every fragrance's start. I was all the more surprised that after 3-4 minutes I couldn't smell anything anymore. Did my nose shut down, or did the scent fall apart after its explosion? Far from it, my dear readers! After Black Gold took a deep breath and realized that it could now unfold freely, it spontaneously calmed down and now purrs like a contented kitten in my arms.

I cannot dissect and analyze the scent. Art comes from skill, not from will. Mr. Schön can often - but not always! He has created an extremely balsamic, deeply warming work of art. Homogeneous, extremely tightly woven, perfectly coordinated. The transitions are so soft that you really have to pay attention not to miss any. The spicy top notes linger with me for a long time. The floral heart is silkily veiled; none of the flowers is really loud enough to be perceived individually for long enough to stay in one’s thoughts. This beautiful heart is, yes, somehow transparent. I can still smell the top notes while simultaneously perceiving the warm bed of flowers.

Before the base, when I read it here, I really had respect. I often don't like fragrances with so many components. But here we have a truly successful base that could be a signature note of its own; I’ll give it a name: Schön-Absolue. By the way, it reminds me towards the end of the old version of Malabah.

Freshness is minimal for me here; nevertheless, the DNA has a sprightly note of Geza that I have found in many of his other fragrances so far.

This scent is sensual, for me only slightly woody, definitely transparent, silky, balsamic, oily, creamy, close to the skin, cozy with a touch of the Orient. Personally, I find it a bit patchouli-heavy.

There is nothing black here, except for the big hole in the wallet; for that, you get a nice golden, warming little light. The scent is not really extraordinary and has little recognizability. Not a signature scent. Still, I liked it very much, but due to the proud price, it doesn’t make it onto my wish list.

Sometimes I think a fragrance must be expensive so that the costs can be covered with a few sold bottles. What a shame...

The scent progression is pure suspense; no story is needed here.

This is the 4th Ormonde fragrance I get to test (thanks to the lovely Cafenoir). This scent is also exciting, surprising, and despite a well-known and often interpreted fragrance pyramid, it is quite different. For me, it is a small work of art that clearly shows its forge.

Here we go :)
The top notes open the fragrance in a truly unusual way; zesty bergamot and natural, sun-ripened orange notes are clearly perceptible. Aldehydes and something green, not like grass, more like the juicy leaves of an old, venerable tree, along with a dash of cardamom, give the scent a spicy finish. Something different, unfamiliar, but very interesting. I occasionally had the impression of detecting hints of mint. Clear, bright, and yet beautifully balsamic.

The transition to the heart, after about 40 minutes, is a successful artistic move, and it is enjoyable to follow. In the deep heart, it remains balsamic. It is really difficult to distinguish the individual notes. Overall, a rather extraordinary interpretation of floral, green, spicy freshness. A playful rose takes a central yet subordinate role. One can imagine it like a tightly bound bouquet, where you can perceive the individual ingredients, but for the nose, the entire bouquet is always available. I fancy that I smell the magnolia a bit stronger than the rose, and now and then, somewhat indistinct, warm cinnamon and spicy myrrh products flash up to prevent the flowers from becoming too lush. Nothing is loud, nothing is piercing, nothing is disturbing, and it is somehow not a floral scent.

The soft musk velvet bed on which the bouquet rests can also be sensed in the heart from time to time. After about 2-3 hours, the heart of the fragrance presents itself a bit differently, somehow more playful without losing the seriousness of its adult aura.

The base is also unusually densely woven. I can clearly perceive oudh, but it is integrated in a completely different way. Not dark and resinous and somehow penetrating, but noble, dry, dancing, gray-green glowing. This is how I like agarwood. Flanked by musk and vetiver, it loses any gloominess here and combines excellently with labdanum. Amber plays almost no role here, except that it somehow smooths the base.

But Mr. Schön's craftsmanship surprises not only in the aforementioned. As the base fades, after about 8 hours, the fragrance introduces an unexpected and beautifully soft fadeout. Gradually, a wonderful, delicate, fragile, light pink floral arrangement develops with a distinctly clean creaminess. Wonderful!

This fragrance is a true work of art in versatility, seriousness, and yet playful and youthful in parts. Longevity is easily 10 hours, during which it warms, lifts, comforts, and yet challenges close to the body. It appears extraordinarily noble and is suitable as a good signature scent. For me, it leans more towards a women's fragrance.

Does the fragrance reflect India for me? No, because it is a bit too quiet for that. When I think of the big cities of India, I miss the strong colors and the bustling activity. However, when I look into the hinterland, I can find the proud rulers who wear this extraordinary fragrance. A bit like a sunset behind fertile fields, gnarled trees, and relaxed, happy people who love their homeland.

I like it very, very much. However, the price-performance ratio seems a bit weak to me. For that, I still miss the WOW - the "I absolutely must have it" effect. Add to List "Nice to have, or like a sample" :)

#creamy #balsamic #spicy

Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham
Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham
Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham
Oh, rock my soul
So high I can't get over it
So high I can't get over it
So high I can't get over it
Oh, rock my soul
… and so on.

Just like this well-known, venerable song by Peter, Paul & Mary, Soul lasts all day long and even longer! A real earworm that you love to celebrate. The overture introduces a slightly sparkling, somewhat ticklish cuddle-freshness. But Soul has even more verses to tell about oud-like, non-oud-like tones and flower-soft ladies' leather gloves. After a captivating high noon, Soul introduces its actual message. Accompanied by applause, Soul rolls, condenses, and homogenizes into an inseparable, ambivalent fadeout. The cover of this record is fitting for the content, and the color of the costumes is excellently chosen!

Yes! Soul rocks my soul!

Thank you, Cafenoir, the oud is suitable for everyday use :)

Oh you sun among the golden and noble!
You, yours, you, I, you, with me ---- we?
Who are you, incredible elixir, Are you, are you?
Parfumos say you would be!
Let them say, they do not know how loved you are.
You carry the base on the lips and wander into the skin.
On my hands, I carry you, you.
Hello, your golden robe, prayed in glorious spice.
Gold I love Ambra Nobile, gold I love you.
You, yours, you, I in you, you on me.
This does not belong casually in the cold ember.
Ambre Nobile, the radiant amber, how do people say?
Prize question:
1. Nobile 1942 has a bird?
2. Ambra is green?
3. What color is the ember?
Pale green is the color of your transparent dress.
Golden yellow is the color of your deep ember.
You unassuming seducer in everyday clothing.
You lovely golden elixir, I love you!
You, yours, you, I, you, with me ---- we?
This belongs casually in the comment.
Ambra, A---M---B---R---A
I sprinkle your name.
Your scent drips like oil, like honeydew.
Do you know it Ambra, do you know it already?
You cannot be left lying.
And you, you most glorious of all,
You are not behind like from the front:
A---M---B---R---A
Honeydew drips CARESSING over my skin.
Ambra Nobile
You grandiose elixir
I----- love ----- you!

In memory of "To Anna Blume 1919" Famous poetry of the then emerging Dadaism

One must earn it. Nectar, by food definition, must contain at least 25% fruit. Well, that cannot be called precious, as it usually consists of rather inferior juices made from 25% concentrate and water. You can stone me now, but I cannot find a comparison to this nectar. I have tested many Guerlains and just cannot warm up to this label. Something always bothers me. Tastes are different - and that's a good thing! :)

Thus, this fragrance languished in my display case after a brief test, leading a dismal existence. Unnoticed, and still neglected today, because I wanted to put it away. My little voice said, but you're silly, spending so much money on 10ml and then not even really testing it? So, on the arm it went. Nose to it and eyebrows raised.

Respect! It is quite loud at first. As if someone has opened a pressure-filled cornucopia of flowers. Respect for this appearance! I thought it was too sweet, too opulent. But no, soon all the flowers sorted themselves out, calmed down, and were happy to shine.

Respect! Who binds a petitgrain so delicately and harmoniously that every flower comes to the fore, but none is too forward? Bitter almond acts as the binding thread for this beautiful bouquet; it holds it together and supports it.

Respect! As the scent develops, the orange blossom, which I love, emerges. Naturally, grand and confidently, it sits almost regal on the fading bouquet and chats carefree with a radiant, flower-white jasmine that joins her reverently.

Respect! To place both queens and divas of many famous fragrances so harmoniously side by side! I linger and listen reverently to what they have to say. These are women's conversations that I cannot, unfortunately, recount out of respect. Miss Jasmine then becomes a bit tired and retreats for a little nap on a divan. Miss Orange Blossom, on the other hand, treats herself to a strong vanilla tea in a fine wooden vessel and lights a small incense burner, whose fine, light scent subtly underscores the scene.

Respect! For so much grace, so much radiance.
Respect! For the well-measured sillage that surrounds me but does not leave.
Respect! For the good, but not excessive longevity.
Respect! For the mild sweetness that does not overwhelm me.
Respect! For the moderately fine powder that does not take my breath away.
Respect! For the beautiful space in which you reside.

Respect… Mon Nectar, respect Randa… simply delicious and not from concentrate!