With this fragrance in the lower to middle price segment (approx. 70 euros for 100 ml) we encounter a beautiful, pleasing, absolutely portable everyday and utility water without large corners, edges and special features. Not only the geographical origin, but also the design can be addressed as traditional and typically Mediterranean-masculine.
The top note is a beautiful "citric opening" with a light light green touch. Here in the first few minutes this Armani reminds me strongly of Annick Goutal's light summer waters like Eau du Sud, Eau d'Hadrien and especially Eau de Monsieur. This freshness is soon mixed with a minimal tingling and sharp note, just enough to create an interesting counterpoint to the hesperidic, stinky-suspicious spicy note that could come from coriander. While the citric note quickly recedes, the spicy notes then gain more and more space; in this intermediate phase between the top and heart notes, Eau de Monsieur is a beautifully light brown spicy fragrance. I couldn't identify individual notes, but cinnamon, nutmeg and clove are completely plausible.
But now, and we still haven't fully arrived at the heart note, a massive expansion of the lavender, previously only very easily perceptible, is taking place, which now has a very strong appearance, nicely flanked by the continuing spicy notes. Lavender is here in the fragrance pyramid only very small printed in the heart note: This does not correspond with my perception that the heart of this fragrance actually consists of a beautiful, soft, typically powdery lavender (with accessories, if necessary), which is why I (which I almost never do) just by clicking on the word lavender jazzed up this ingredient here on Parfumo (when voting in the voting booth, this would be something like cumulating). This huge heart of lavender beats (without too much projection) for at least eight hours, and towards the end, without falling silent, it runs out more and more into a spicy-woody, but at the same time quite soft and sweet base.
Depending on whether you like the fragrance intuitively or not, you will either find it too generic, boring and superfluous, or, which I have a slight tendency to do, plainly beautiful and understated. Something incredibly new, something never smelled before, is not to be expected here. For me, this is enough for a nice round eight, although I also briefly considered a slightly lower rating. With so much inconspicuousness in the fragrance, a more distinctive name would have been appropriate for the sake of contrast, so that at least something here is unmistakable. Therefore, the word combination "Eau pour homme" (yawn, snore) is only awarded 4 points
If you don't want to read more about Corona, you can also get off here. Because the scent review is actually over here, and my current thoughts about epidemics have no real connection to these beautiful toilet waters. So you won't miss anything but my stupid mustard for the epidemic if you stop now
But I can't resist the idea of getting rid of my conviction that keeping one's mouth shut is sometimes a virtue not only for hygienic reasons. How annoyed and ashamed I was a week or two ago when comments and editorials in the serious media, which I greatly appreciate, were stirred up by the fact that in Italy the mortality rates are so high and in Spain whole old people's homes are being transformed into mass graves. Then it was said that after the end of the crisis "we will have to talk about it". So instead of horror, sadness and compassion, some feel the need to teach these sloppy southerners, who habitually drown our EU funds in sangria, instead of organizing their health care system according to Prussian standards (where, as is well known, the German old people's homes in particular always offer first-class, personalized care for the elderly), a serious word about why they enjoy dying so much. But generously, only after the crisis, one doesn't want to be a monster and lets them finish their funerals properly. My God, how painful that was. And when yesterday I read about the old people's home in Wolfsburg and today about the hospital in Potsdam, where Gevatter Hain had a rich harvest (and unfortunately there will be more such cases in Germany), I thought once again: Si tacuisses. So the know-it-all was joined by the know-it-all, so you start out as a mere smart guy ** and end up as a stupid chatterbox.
And there again nothing more comes to mind to give the commentary a cheerful conclusion. Tomorrow the tone will be lighter again, I promise.