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Gone with the Vintage
This is how Diggi-Dendemüller titled the musical arrangement of his second studio album in 2010. And in one way or another, this title is already guaranteed to be found above numerous perfume commentaries, blogs and statements from this wonderful community, this playground for those people for whom the second sense at an imaginary sausage specialist's shop got a particularly big slice on their noses (to all the young mothers and dads out there: Is something like this still being done today? A window on the counter for the little ones? Or is this vintage too? Oh, to be young(er) again ...)
I don't know what the above fact (I've only been able to evaluate a fraction of all the comments, blogs and statements available here so far in the course of my research - and then at some point simply gave up) about the popularity of the word acrobat with the grater's voice and his musical work with above-average active Duftaficionados says. Rather I attribute the popularity of this title to its wit and catchiness ... and of course to its intertextual homage to Clark Gable and Co. - it's obvious, it's vintage!
One thing that my time at Parfumo has taught me is the distinction between vintage and retro. If you believe a certain minnesing quintet from Karl-Marx-Stadt, an essential skill if you want to consist of hipsters and digital nomads in the contemporary urban jungle. Short, lurid PR statement for the clicks: I like Berlin. Hamburg but still much, much (much!) better.
Until a few months ago, I admit, I smiled a little at both batch discussions (in their most absurd outgrowths, mind you!) and vintage talk (not the powder - and certainly not the fat) on this platform. For the former, this is still partly the case - while the latter unexpectedly and impressively taught me better.
So it came, as so often, to an exchange of samples between another Parfumo member and myself. Unexpectedly, and so it is actually always with the RIGHTLY great fragrance discoveries, the sample of a fragrance so knocked me so out of my olfactory socks that I had to immediately communicate my enthusiasm to the noble exchanger - in the hope that he could take away my doubts about the general availability of this creation. Because it was about - guess what? - for a VINTAGE rehearsal. Davidoff's "Zino", to be exact.
A fragrance that is now available on the lowest drugstore shelf for the much-quoted Appel un' Ei. A fragrance that I always associated with paternal, even grandfatherly stereotypes.
And now this. I am not (any longer) easy to impress as far as new (!) fragrance experiences are concerned. And I have to admit that I don't really like many men's creations of the eighties and seventies (green-wood-fresh-powder on the left, on the right and with a stick again!) But this one? 1986? I wasn't even born then, the HSV still won the title and Chemnitz was still called Karl-Marx-Stadt. And was certainly not as hip as Berlin (controversial once again, I know).
So it happened that the noble perfume-exchanger and a lucky, proven Zino connoisseur urgently advised me not to give even a single spark of my enthusiasm to the version of the little water to be found in the drugstore at the bottom. I should just test it in parallel - Zino versus vintage Zino. Still carried by a certain vintage skepticism, I almost hoped that the version available in the drugstore would appeal to me as much as the exchanged sample.
Relatively sure of victory I walked to the test.
Pustekkuchen. No talk. But with proper sugar.
The current version could at best be described as retro. But vintage - that ... yes, that is something completely different. Full-bodied, persevering, fine. Of pallor no trace.
The piggy bank lost all its shape in no time - and thanks to another perfume, I can now identify myself as the proud owner of a VINTAGE bottle.
Well. And now, at the latest, it is high time to admit to ourselves what must be admitted: One of the most beautiful and, who would have thought it, timeless (!) fragrances I know - for over thirty years on the run from me. I finally caught up with him.
And I'm not a father or a grandfather right now. Can everything still come - with Davidoff's eighties draft horse I feel well prepared, at least olfactorically ;)
But - of course - ONLY in the vintage version! Stay away from retro, Davidoff!
Thank you for reading, dear community!