Pale green, without a trace of brown, Margaret Mitchell writes, Scarlett O'Hara's eyes were. These eyes that drove men mad in rows and symbolized Scarlett's character: spirited and fun-loving, but also calculating to cold when it was to her advantage; independent, strong and tough. Superficially a lovely pretty Southern magnolia - but made of the famous steel.
Outrageously unseemly for her time, Scarlett can probably be called downright emancipated, although that word probably didn't exist like that back then (call in the linguists, please!). The only man who can match her strength and energy, and who admires (and, well, loves) her for that very reason, is Rhett Butler (unfortunately, she spurns him until it's too late for a happy ending, as we all know)
When I sniff Scherrer, I see Scarlett's iridescence in her cat-like eyes. The green that sets the tone in this scent is a clear, crystalline, siren-like green. A green that splits into hundreds of radiant facets depending on the angle of view or sniff. Minerals, stone, but especially the sharp edges of a polished emerald and something luminous, is processed by my olfactory here to a visual impression.
The citrus note that Scherrer opens with is, for me, one of the nicest I've ever smelled. It is not too tart or acidic, but forms the first finely chiseled framework of the main green character. This clarity is extremely elegant and noble, and without the madam, austere undertone I dread, which very often makes chypres difficult and off-putting to me. Scherrer also retains a floating lightness of foot, one might even say a sanguine character.
This then also amazingly in the further course, in which the oak moss carefully lays itself like an ultra-light, fluffy wool blanket under the fragrance. Velvetier it becomes, without losing anything of its clarity. Warmer, almost furry, without the fragrance seeming overheated, stuffy or even sweet. Cozy, cosy or "hygge" is nothing here.
I soon also sniff a certain humanoid dirt/sweat note, not as brute as Piguet's Bandit, but still going in that direction. This gives Scherrer a slightly impertinent twist into the erogenous and rounds off the overall complexity of the fragrance expertly.
Whether Scarlett would have worn this fragrance had it been available back then - who knows. If I let my imagination run wild, I imagine Scarlett excellent as a "testimonial" for Scherrer: her coolness, behind which the fire burns, her gracefulness and elegance, her strength, her independence, her passion and also her certain naughtiness form for me in this fragrance.
That he always retains but a small Koboldhaftigkeit and light-footedness, makes him for me personally a timeless masterpiece of perfume history and not only wearable for myself (as a Chyprefeigling), but also my personal (late) fragrance discovery of the past year 2020.