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05/09/2020
Sniffsniff
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Sniffsniff
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Play me the song of failure..
If, as I did in a previous life, you once acquired a journeyman's certificate in the carpentry trade, the dubious pleasure of weekly vocational school attendance is not foreign to you. There you meet all kinds of fellow sufferers (the comrades are clearly outnumbered) from the most diverse trades, who crowd into the smoking corners during the much too short breaks and are very careful that carpenter A stays with carpenter B and bricklayer C does not talk too long with roofer D. To ensure that this relic of guild arrogance survives the 21st century unscathed, the ancillary trades (which are of course much inferior compared to their own godlike craft) have been given rather semi-creative nicknames in metronomic regularity. I suspect that (almost) all participants would have been abysmally embarrassed by using similarly questionable humour in areas of life outside of this microcosm. We were the woodworms, there were spatulas, pipe layers and of course cable monkeys. It seemed almost inconceivable that we would later meet daily at different construction sites and have to get along with each other. But there was one thing they had in common, the young men who sat so casually on the planters and flicked their butts onto the pavement. They did not smell good. When I made my way to the cafeteria, I walked through tons of shower-heavy deodorant clouds, whose pseudo-masculine aroma mixed unfavorably with the stench of the half-burning ashtray - in direct comparison, the walk to Canossa must have been a Sunday stroll.
So what does a perfume smell like that which the overweight electricians of this world seem to have been inspired by? The images in my head make me hesitate for a long time to test this perfume. I associate funny beer flags waving in the wind, cold sweat and cigarette breath. Not a good omen. But this name. Good marketing is cash money. And unfortunately, the marketing department with its name hits directly into my black heart. At least for now. The pyramid promises a fragrance that I could really enjoy. Chestnut cream sounds very tempting. With myrrh and vanilla. A little resin and vetiver. Well, I've often perceived vetiver as a note that can trigger a veritable flight reflex, but in combination with the other ingredients it could well have its appeal. A gourmand without a bitchy, sugary attitude.
And the fat electrician keeps his promise. He is a pragmatist and greets me with a full load of vetiver, which fortunately doesn't get too dry and bitter. Shortly afterwards the chestnut cream comes into play, which is really well hit and with its nutty creaminess makes sure that the electrician reveals his soft side. From now on, there is no longer any significant progression, the fragrance alternates between chestnut and vetiver, the other fragrances are discreetly restrained and support the perception of chestnut rather than pushing themselves to the fore. Like a good and attentive apprentice who hands in the cordless screwdriver at the right time and otherwise can just shut up. I perceive the scent clearly on myself for a long time and also the projection is stately - because even with corona distance my girlfriend could smell it clearly. By the way, she spoke of pleasantly bitter creaminess. When the scent becomes very close from the fifth hour on, the vanilla comes into play more clearly and makes the vetiver grass look even softer I only noticed by chance that the scent of ELDO was altered for men. I would have given it the unisex label, but my preference for harsh scents probably doesn't make me a very good reference for other women who fancy getting in touch with the fat electrician.
I like the fragrance very much, because it is exciting, versatile and fits actually in every season, because it is not too heavy to apply despite its intensity.
But maybe I should have left it at that and not listened to the sound message of the fat electrician on the ELDO homepage. For since I have known this proud and oppressive statement of the overweight stranger, he manifests himself in front of my inner eye while wearing the fragrance and reflects with me on failure as a state of mind. What did they put in the coffee for the marketing people at ELDO?
So what does a perfume smell like that which the overweight electricians of this world seem to have been inspired by? The images in my head make me hesitate for a long time to test this perfume. I associate funny beer flags waving in the wind, cold sweat and cigarette breath. Not a good omen. But this name. Good marketing is cash money. And unfortunately, the marketing department with its name hits directly into my black heart. At least for now. The pyramid promises a fragrance that I could really enjoy. Chestnut cream sounds very tempting. With myrrh and vanilla. A little resin and vetiver. Well, I've often perceived vetiver as a note that can trigger a veritable flight reflex, but in combination with the other ingredients it could well have its appeal. A gourmand without a bitchy, sugary attitude.
And the fat electrician keeps his promise. He is a pragmatist and greets me with a full load of vetiver, which fortunately doesn't get too dry and bitter. Shortly afterwards the chestnut cream comes into play, which is really well hit and with its nutty creaminess makes sure that the electrician reveals his soft side. From now on, there is no longer any significant progression, the fragrance alternates between chestnut and vetiver, the other fragrances are discreetly restrained and support the perception of chestnut rather than pushing themselves to the fore. Like a good and attentive apprentice who hands in the cordless screwdriver at the right time and otherwise can just shut up. I perceive the scent clearly on myself for a long time and also the projection is stately - because even with corona distance my girlfriend could smell it clearly. By the way, she spoke of pleasantly bitter creaminess. When the scent becomes very close from the fifth hour on, the vanilla comes into play more clearly and makes the vetiver grass look even softer I only noticed by chance that the scent of ELDO was altered for men. I would have given it the unisex label, but my preference for harsh scents probably doesn't make me a very good reference for other women who fancy getting in touch with the fat electrician.
I like the fragrance very much, because it is exciting, versatile and fits actually in every season, because it is not too heavy to apply despite its intensity.
But maybe I should have left it at that and not listened to the sound message of the fat electrician on the ELDO homepage. For since I have known this proud and oppressive statement of the overweight stranger, he manifests himself in front of my inner eye while wearing the fragrance and reflects with me on failure as a state of mind. What did they put in the coffee for the marketing people at ELDO?
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