02/25/2024
Violett
40 Reviews
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Violett
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Too late ?
Rostracto is a crook. A bitterly evil, dark rose chypre that certainly doesn't exist a second time.
The fragrance is better suited to Halloween than spring.
So we are late in two respects.
Also here in the fragrance. Because the complete destruction has already taken place.
We find ourselves again in the gloom
of a deep pine forest, in the midst of wild, thorny undergrowth. A place where people generally don't stray. Cold sleet pelting down on long-burnt, black tree skeletons and dark earth. Some pines are still standing. They have withstood the devastating fire. Rostracto is at home here. Smoke from the fire in his tattered clothes Bitter herbs in his pockets. Raw and hard is his life in the depths of the forest.
Sometimes the soft mist of roses wafts from somewhere, a distant memory. A soft glow, immortal in his heart, day and night.
Indifferent.
For it is too late, as I said. The complete destruction has already taken place.
And life goes on.
Rostracto shows us the way into the darkness, a place we would not have sought and found without him. The deepest, darkest forest, in which an irritating rose either slowly struggles to the surface and quietly unfurls its leaves with a dark red shimmer, or at least shyly reveals itself as a
Mirage, a memory of another time, another past life.
The fragrance tells of opposites.
Dark, indifferent, progressing ruin and at the same time the constantly increasing, gentle glow of a glimmer of hope.
Is the impossible happening? Is the once flourishing life returning to this hard, cold, herbaceous world of fragrance? Depending on the condition of our skin, the fragrance either leaves us in the dark,
or finally gives the rose the space to blossom in this inhospitable place, to go from premonition to reality.
There is certainly no lack of drama and tension in this fragrance.
However, it is also demanding and not very pleasing overall.
I see it as a perfume for the masculine, if not rugged, even broody lone fighter, who nevertheless appreciates a gentle rose scent.
The fragrance is better suited to Halloween than spring.
So we are late in two respects.
Also here in the fragrance. Because the complete destruction has already taken place.
We find ourselves again in the gloom
of a deep pine forest, in the midst of wild, thorny undergrowth. A place where people generally don't stray. Cold sleet pelting down on long-burnt, black tree skeletons and dark earth. Some pines are still standing. They have withstood the devastating fire. Rostracto is at home here. Smoke from the fire in his tattered clothes Bitter herbs in his pockets. Raw and hard is his life in the depths of the forest.
Sometimes the soft mist of roses wafts from somewhere, a distant memory. A soft glow, immortal in his heart, day and night.
Indifferent.
For it is too late, as I said. The complete destruction has already taken place.
And life goes on.
Rostracto shows us the way into the darkness, a place we would not have sought and found without him. The deepest, darkest forest, in which an irritating rose either slowly struggles to the surface and quietly unfurls its leaves with a dark red shimmer, or at least shyly reveals itself as a
Mirage, a memory of another time, another past life.
The fragrance tells of opposites.
Dark, indifferent, progressing ruin and at the same time the constantly increasing, gentle glow of a glimmer of hope.
Is the impossible happening? Is the once flourishing life returning to this hard, cold, herbaceous world of fragrance? Depending on the condition of our skin, the fragrance either leaves us in the dark,
or finally gives the rose the space to blossom in this inhospitable place, to go from premonition to reality.
There is certainly no lack of drama and tension in this fragrance.
However, it is also demanding and not very pleasing overall.
I see it as a perfume for the masculine, if not rugged, even broody lone fighter, who nevertheless appreciates a gentle rose scent.
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