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04/14/2020
Yatagan
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Yatagan
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Lord at Speed
Uncommented fragrances No. 147
I'm an Anglophile. Many know. I have a weakness for English perfumes. Many know. I like wearing tweed jackets. Many know. That's why I stumbled upon Deco London at one point. Lothar Ruff, owner of The English Scent and a reliable style consultant for British shaving and fragrance culture (english-scent.de) had them on offer at some point and shortly afterwards I subscribed to the Deco newsletter, which was artful, artificial and informative, and which I recommend as much as Lothar Ruff's offer. Despite my interest in the Deco fragrances, a purchase turned out to be nothing, because the fragrances oscillate between heartbreakingly traditional and nerve-wrackingly eccentric and are thus actually a typical example of Anglo-Saxon quirkiness, but in the context of traditional purveyors to the court such as D.R. Harris, Floris or Trumper (the latter without warrant) they fall somewhat out of the ordinary.
For a first comment I chose Lawrence, who would have been a good punk in the 80s at Piccadilly Circus, but is also very British.
In a traditional English men's fragrance (the English didn't have it that way with women's fragrances in the past anyway) bergamot and lavender as well as sandalwood and vetiver belong as colonial reminiscences. It's all in here. Fits so far. In Lawrence's case, there's also blackcurrant/cassis, which is notorious here as animalistic (urinous: bad word) and I can even understand it a bit. In a correspondingly high dosage the small fruit makes a lot of noise and nagging like a lord on speed. Nevertheless, the black globules also appear in some traditional English fragrances, such as Geo F. Trumper Eurcis, which is said to have been worn by James Bond (wrote Ian Fleming), who was after all a British style icon.
By the way, Eucris takes getting used to as well, but it's great. This as a tip on the side.
Actually, one would not have to say much more about Lawrence, because this conservative, sandalwood oil-impregnated, bergamot-saturated, lavender-soft, herb-spiced, floral-bright aura as if coming from a wooden-panelled and silk-wallpapered back room of Buckingham Palace with an open door to the garden, which here meets shrill blackcurrants that the Queen left standing in the sun a little too long, lives from this contrast, which one can probably imagine quite well.
There are very few occasions on which one can wear this fragrance. Maybe at a reception at the Queen of England, where you want to attract attention and protest against the aristocratic ceremonial, or maybe at a concert by Iggy Pop, who congenially combines conservative snobbery with age-old punkattitude. But the fragrance would be so perfectly suited for such moments that I would really think seriously about purchasing it, if I didn't already own Maitre Parfumeur et Ganties Centaure, which is so similar that it might not be a twin, but a somewhat snotty relative from the French province
I'm an Anglophile. Many know. I have a weakness for English perfumes. Many know. I like wearing tweed jackets. Many know. That's why I stumbled upon Deco London at one point. Lothar Ruff, owner of The English Scent and a reliable style consultant for British shaving and fragrance culture (english-scent.de) had them on offer at some point and shortly afterwards I subscribed to the Deco newsletter, which was artful, artificial and informative, and which I recommend as much as Lothar Ruff's offer. Despite my interest in the Deco fragrances, a purchase turned out to be nothing, because the fragrances oscillate between heartbreakingly traditional and nerve-wrackingly eccentric and are thus actually a typical example of Anglo-Saxon quirkiness, but in the context of traditional purveyors to the court such as D.R. Harris, Floris or Trumper (the latter without warrant) they fall somewhat out of the ordinary.
For a first comment I chose Lawrence, who would have been a good punk in the 80s at Piccadilly Circus, but is also very British.
In a traditional English men's fragrance (the English didn't have it that way with women's fragrances in the past anyway) bergamot and lavender as well as sandalwood and vetiver belong as colonial reminiscences. It's all in here. Fits so far. In Lawrence's case, there's also blackcurrant/cassis, which is notorious here as animalistic (urinous: bad word) and I can even understand it a bit. In a correspondingly high dosage the small fruit makes a lot of noise and nagging like a lord on speed. Nevertheless, the black globules also appear in some traditional English fragrances, such as Geo F. Trumper Eurcis, which is said to have been worn by James Bond (wrote Ian Fleming), who was after all a British style icon.
By the way, Eucris takes getting used to as well, but it's great. This as a tip on the side.
Actually, one would not have to say much more about Lawrence, because this conservative, sandalwood oil-impregnated, bergamot-saturated, lavender-soft, herb-spiced, floral-bright aura as if coming from a wooden-panelled and silk-wallpapered back room of Buckingham Palace with an open door to the garden, which here meets shrill blackcurrants that the Queen left standing in the sun a little too long, lives from this contrast, which one can probably imagine quite well.
There are very few occasions on which one can wear this fragrance. Maybe at a reception at the Queen of England, where you want to attract attention and protest against the aristocratic ceremonial, or maybe at a concert by Iggy Pop, who congenially combines conservative snobbery with age-old punkattitude. But the fragrance would be so perfectly suited for such moments that I would really think seriously about purchasing it, if I didn't already own Maitre Parfumeur et Ganties Centaure, which is so similar that it might not be a twin, but a somewhat snotty relative from the French province
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