Top Notes 
Heart Notes 
Base Notes 
09/30/2018
Meggi
212 Reviews
Translated
Show original
Meggi
Top Review
33
The bottling terminator
At the end of July 1995 the bottling terminator came into my life. Although I didn't know anything about this special ability back then. On the contrary, everything began very peacefully: A dreamlike summer day was running out and three friends or acquaintances celebrated their birthdays together on Falckensteiner Strand on the Kiel Fjord in the late afternoon. The main guests were students, all of whom had been tried and tested in fetuses and dependencies. No wonder considering the relaxed university life at that time; studying in Kiel brought (except for the heating jets) in summer the so-called "SoS" semesters with it: "Beach or statistics?"
I, for example, had been eagerly visiting the said beach for weeks, because I had had the feeling of what I had achieved after handing in my last major housework before my exam. The slightly curled hair had become a little longer, brightly bleached by salt and sun. And a tan that could have competed with that of a Sicilian farm worker, which - and I didn't think that up - made my eyes shine impudently blue. Actually, my today wife didn't want to go to the party at all. That she did was one of those magic coincidences that make Parship & Co. look pretty old
To this day, I highly appreciate her for having remained loyal to me, even though the paint soon flaked off, so to speak. It would have been perfectly permissible to grumble about a pretence of false facts. But maybe it is a late revenge that she shoots me away now and then buy candidates?
These are mostly fragrances with the participation of Patchouli. And that puts us in the middle of something. In 'Nouvelle Collection - Oud' I perceive patchouli to a large extent, if not predominantly. In any case, I consider it a kind of backbone, a basic tone, which unites with its numerous facets the manifold aromas, which, moreover, seem to set different emphases on different test days.
Of course, Oud should not be neglected too much. A bit of cowshed wood from the tube and something medical directly after spraying made that immediately clear. On the second day of testing, however, I was already thinking of light-dusty, almost woody patchouli, gently seasoned - saffron fits. A third test revealed a spontaneous thought of Leukoplast-Elemi.
The progress was again somewhat more uniform. Tanne. Forest floor with needles on it. A grasp into musty-modd soil, in the beginning old-fashioned. I think Kostus is responsible for this, see 'Tellus - Eau Arborante' by Les Liquides Imaginaires. Later I smell unexpected sweetness, almost like cinnamon. From the patchouli, his own "chocolate" is winking at me, while in the background again (or still?) a tiny idea cowshed rumbles around, on the threshold of imagination. Close to the skin something resinous-sour is wafting, "duro-like" it could be called
Slowly the sweetness turns further in the direction of honey - fir honey, of course. And suddenly there is an intense aura over the fragrance, similar to the one floating over liquid honey. She explains why on one of the many test days I involuntarily thought of the otherwise completely irrelevant lavender(!), because it also has such a distanced and metallic appearance. So the scent reminded me of lavender without smelling of it. That's great. Company Piguet makes me despair of my nose.
In the course of the afternoon, more creamy aspects come into play. Guaiac? It would be free of H-cream. I find it rather sandy, but give up sometime, flee me rather again in my chocolate patchouli with a blob of medicine and cowshed and let it carry me into the evening.
Well. That sounds terribly confused now. In use, however, it is not at all. Even the sometimes adventurous-sounding swings seem obvious at the moment of the event, with just the right amount of variety. On top of that, with a reasonably careful dosage, the Sillage can be regarded as mediocre, so that nobody has to feel overtaxed out there.
Except for my wife. Several times I have tried to secretly slip her the scent - no chance. Always the same diagnosis, according to Malles' 'Monsieur.' another buy candidate: Cat piss! Maybe I'll try again once or twice, but I have little hope. I'll probably never call this beautiful scent my own. I gave away my 'Monsieur.' bottling with resignation...
I want to thank Terra for sharing.
I, for example, had been eagerly visiting the said beach for weeks, because I had had the feeling of what I had achieved after handing in my last major housework before my exam. The slightly curled hair had become a little longer, brightly bleached by salt and sun. And a tan that could have competed with that of a Sicilian farm worker, which - and I didn't think that up - made my eyes shine impudently blue. Actually, my today wife didn't want to go to the party at all. That she did was one of those magic coincidences that make Parship & Co. look pretty old
To this day, I highly appreciate her for having remained loyal to me, even though the paint soon flaked off, so to speak. It would have been perfectly permissible to grumble about a pretence of false facts. But maybe it is a late revenge that she shoots me away now and then buy candidates?
These are mostly fragrances with the participation of Patchouli. And that puts us in the middle of something. In 'Nouvelle Collection - Oud' I perceive patchouli to a large extent, if not predominantly. In any case, I consider it a kind of backbone, a basic tone, which unites with its numerous facets the manifold aromas, which, moreover, seem to set different emphases on different test days.
Of course, Oud should not be neglected too much. A bit of cowshed wood from the tube and something medical directly after spraying made that immediately clear. On the second day of testing, however, I was already thinking of light-dusty, almost woody patchouli, gently seasoned - saffron fits. A third test revealed a spontaneous thought of Leukoplast-Elemi.
The progress was again somewhat more uniform. Tanne. Forest floor with needles on it. A grasp into musty-modd soil, in the beginning old-fashioned. I think Kostus is responsible for this, see 'Tellus - Eau Arborante' by Les Liquides Imaginaires. Later I smell unexpected sweetness, almost like cinnamon. From the patchouli, his own "chocolate" is winking at me, while in the background again (or still?) a tiny idea cowshed rumbles around, on the threshold of imagination. Close to the skin something resinous-sour is wafting, "duro-like" it could be called
Slowly the sweetness turns further in the direction of honey - fir honey, of course. And suddenly there is an intense aura over the fragrance, similar to the one floating over liquid honey. She explains why on one of the many test days I involuntarily thought of the otherwise completely irrelevant lavender(!), because it also has such a distanced and metallic appearance. So the scent reminded me of lavender without smelling of it. That's great. Company Piguet makes me despair of my nose.
In the course of the afternoon, more creamy aspects come into play. Guaiac? It would be free of H-cream. I find it rather sandy, but give up sometime, flee me rather again in my chocolate patchouli with a blob of medicine and cowshed and let it carry me into the evening.
Well. That sounds terribly confused now. In use, however, it is not at all. Even the sometimes adventurous-sounding swings seem obvious at the moment of the event, with just the right amount of variety. On top of that, with a reasonably careful dosage, the Sillage can be regarded as mediocre, so that nobody has to feel overtaxed out there.
Except for my wife. Several times I have tried to secretly slip her the scent - no chance. Always the same diagnosis, according to Malles' 'Monsieur.' another buy candidate: Cat piss! Maybe I'll try again once or twice, but I have little hope. I'll probably never call this beautiful scent my own. I gave away my 'Monsieur.' bottling with resignation...
I want to thank Terra for sharing.
26 Comments
Hellencz
Tombbb
