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the mysterious lake in the forest
After reading in connection with this smell of forests in North America, I imagined something "robust masculine": a kind of men's scent with a checkered flannel shirt and cowboy boots, the axe already shouldered for chopping wood!
Well, that could be fun for both of us, but the pyramid read too tempting.
Even if the flannel shirt didn't fit, I dared a few splashes:
Good that my curiosity won, because I found in "Itasca/Le Vetiver - Itasca" an enchanting place in the diverse evening scent landscape.
In Robert Frost's poem "Stopping by Woods on an Snowy Evening" there is the line: "The woods are lovely, dark, an deep ..."
Yes, here the woods are really deep, dark and mysterious; a dark green full of spice surrounds the senses.
In the midst of this quiet forest solitude lies the mysterious and enchanted lake that gives this fragrance its name.
A silver shimmer pervades twilight and shadow; surrounded by fine fog creatures restlessly scurrying through the nearby trees.
"Le Vetiver - Itasca" begins fruity with grapefruit and tangerine slices: neither the popular bergamot, nor the usual citrus scent is contained here - a sympathetic decision.
Neroli can sit down on a slightly bitter-sweet blanket and spread out quietly before the dark blue-silvery shimmering juniper berries enter this fragrance with big steps.
I like them, these rough, spicy journeymen, who are stubborn and perhaps that's why they are so invigorating, enrich not only some food, but also many fragrances.
Here they form the prelude for a heart full of spices, whereby muscatel sage and cloves spread spicy on my skin almost at the same time.
This spice and the quadriga from the Entrée get along well; freshness and spice harmonize and a pinch of nutmeg soothes some of the spines that this arrangement could contain - a kind of polished and polished fragrance ball is already being created.
Tonka bean is used here very tastefully; it opens the previous fragrance flow for a spicy smoky finale.
The dark green and silver grey of red pine and the cedar I love released their strong aromas; they open the fragrance gate for the smoky, always mysteriously fragrant three: incense - rich and surprisingly pliant: is this probably due to the proximity of the cedar rounding everything off?
This scent, which flatters the senses, doesn't do any corners and edges; maybe that's why the incense here becomes a little more civilized, less robust for somewhat smoke-sensitive noses.
Together with myrrh and amber it creates mysterious shadows over the first fruity, then spicy and now woody-smoky scent painting.
Finally, these fragrant mists float through this scented painting: a first rustic, then almost elegantly tamed whole develops.
The evening mystery of a silent lake in the midst of many shades of green has become a scent picture that can certainly not only be worn as a men's scent.
(Although I would seek the proximity of a man who smells so: self-confident and yet considerate, unobtrusive and yet present!)
Yesterday evening, sprayed on, I am still surrounded by a slightly spicy hint; juniper berry, cedar and incense offer me a "Adieu" I've taken back.
With "Le Vetiver - Itasca", a men's fragrance was created that also likes to surround and flatter the woman, who is receptive to spicy aromas, in a noble way.
Just as the boundaries between the individual fragrances become blurred, the classification "men's/ women's fragrance" could well disappear here.
Because this composition from the house of Lubin is a Janus-headed being, on which perhaps even Goethe's words about the ginkgo fit:
"This tree's leaf, the one from the east
entrusted to my garden,
gives secret sense to taste,
how it builds the knowledgeable.
Is it a living creature,
that separates itself in itself?
Is it two who choose each other,
that you know them as one?
Such questions to answer
I thought I had the right idea.
Don't you feel it in my songs,
that I'm one and double?"
(Today it is called "unisex": well, yes!)