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Very helpful Review
Brave New World
Hello everybody! This is my first comment - on my first perfume.
Perfumes? If I had been asked 5 years ago what I associate with it, I would probably have primarily told about the funny to bizarre experiences from my childhood in provincial Austria. Of the 4 old bottles of my mother, which always stood in the bathroom cupboard, fixed components of the household goods, with which nobody knew what to do anymore, family was founded and there were hardly any occasions for which showers alone would not have been enough. So I misused the bottles for my own purposes and mixed Nina Riccis Farouche into my father's shampoo, bathed my brother's teddy bear in cologne or distributed L'Air du Temps - I still have the smell of clove in my nose on demand - on my father's steering wheel, preferably before very long car journeys. Or I would have told you about my first time Axe Africa, which a neighbor boy threw at me while plundering his parents' bathroom. Despite an hour in the bathtub, my teacher in the elementary school acknowledged this the next day with "Mei Liawa, you riachst heid owa männlich!".
For my childish nose, all this was far too much, far too alcoholic, too sharp, too penetrating, too unworldly, since I was only used to unmixed natural smells.
And then followed a long period of rest only sometimes I wondered as a teenager in the drugstore why one should spend such large sums of money on stink when any deodorant against the pubertal sweat smell is sufficient.
That day I was deeply depressed, 20 years old, had had to end my 2-year relationship the night before, wandered aimlessly through rainy Vienna after a bad sex date and ended up in an old-fashioned perfumery. The display was old-fashioned enough to appeal to me in my mood. A cup of tea with grandma on the couch would have been just the right thing at that moment, but she lived hundreds of miles away. When the polite, but somewhat age-grandiose woman in the shop asked what I was looking for, I first gaped at her and then stammered something about "warmth", "cosy" and "rainy weather". I didn't even think of perfume in those words. Yet I was handed a stripe.
I smelled wood, crackling open fire, incense, roasted and dried fruits and vanilla crescents in the oven, a fragrance like a protective layer between me and the rain, the dejection and the dreariness. Without saying goodbye, I stumbled out of the store with the strip in my hand, on which I smelled fascinated every few minutes, the strip still smelled after weeks. The very next day, however, I stood in the shop again, apologized for my unfriendliness the day before and bought a 40mL bottle of Boss Orange and the fragrance became my daily companion for some time
Even today I am still fascinated by how rich this fragrance is, one spray is almost one too many. On my skin, it lasts over 48 hours if I don't shower for that long. On clothes I can often still notice it even after weeks. And my 40mL bottle still exists, a small remainder is still there. I have used it sparingly and very rarely because of its fertility and my special relationship with it, as the season and the mood have to suit. In spring and summer it is unbearable to penetrating for me. It is probably very well suited as a beginner's fragrance, since one can still relatively well separate its different fragrance components and can build up emotions to it (similar to TomTomxGo's commentary).
It is also the fragrance for which I have received by far the most compliments and requests, especially from strangers. Yesterday Berlin was covered in deep grey and it was raining, I had to go out in the evening and after more than a year I sprayed Boss Orange again. I walked 100 meters before a young woman on the sidewalk, after she had passed me, turned around and asked me if I smelled so good here.
This moment was also the occasion for my first comment, when I subsequently thought that I should share this story. Almost every one of my perfumes has a special story, maybe I find the time to write one down here from time to time.