08/08/2020
Unterholz
7 Reviews
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Unterholz
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Ode to the ride-on mower
Lawnmower man!
Start the lawn mower!
Let the stem and stems sprout.
Herbs, greens, small trees
carve the same way.
Don't stop for violets,
Bitter and sweet oranges and bitter and sweet -
and all flower particles.
And up in the sandal branches
cackle with the nutcracker
and sway in their round dance
in the two-stroke of your Tonka Mower.
* *
Children, the good uncle Unterholz is also writing poetry now and will tell you how to do it with the Paföngs Today it is so that the possibly untrained but inclined perfume interested person / the willing buyer in the exalted state of the collection expansion urge in a department store, a perfumery, drugstore, which is always trying to impress with crazy head note bragging or even to dupe to the perfume purchase Sprayed briefly in front of the shelf, doesn't smell bad, bought on the spot! At least that's what the ideal scene looks like from the sales staff's point of view
But the freshly flaked pilgrim at home is usually threatened by one or the other sobering experience when the head note bang is long gone and post-coital depression (or at least disillusionment) is already spreading in the form of the final scent phase. On your wrist there is nothing left of the lust-healing top note (and the at best not even bad heart note), but a lukewarm chemical breeze, usually labeled by the manufacturer as "noble / exotic woods" or even "sandalwood" and richly garnished with further fantasy notes of your choice (vanilla=vanillin, guaiac wood=guajacol, amber=ambrox etc.)
I say: Stop your sandalwood rasping! As much sandalwood as the whole industry claims to process and chop up, is no longer vertical. What we have in front of us in most of the sloppy pafum creations is simply the chemical substitute for it and I think that in 90% of the cases it simply smells cheap, clumsy, chemical, unattractive, unsexy and annoying. Or it's simply made!!!
At this point, 80% of all manufacturers / perfume brands / niche scenes / fragrance designers / (optionally using other representatives of the industry) can cut a big slice off Lush. But from the beginning.
When you enter a Lush shop for the first time, you don't get the feeling that you are getting high-quality fragrances under your nose. Most of the time, you are immediately gripped by one of the somewhat over-motivated employees, along with the exuberant bath-ball-bubblegum-gum-gummy bear nimbus, and you are already receptorily completely overwhelmed in the clutches of the company. But if you smile politely and gain the freedom to look around first, you'll end up in front of the Lush perfume shelf. Admittedly, optically there is still air up here, but so be it. We're going to test in peace.
Arrived at home with the applied (but not yet purchased) fragrances, you notice on your wrist sniffing that most Lush creations go the opposite way. The top note may appear a bit hysterical in the shop, as in the case of grass, a too much of green juiciness, somehow squeaky, jumpy, over-excited, as if you were having a bunch of teenage forest elephants with ADHD redesign your garden.
But at some point in the course of Grass, at first one thought of a fun scent commissioned by the Lawn Barber Guild, one swore that this was an absolutely high-quality, well-composed perfume. Where chemistry is used in such a way that it smells GOOD and natural raw materials are also natural raw materials and produce a harmonious overall picture.
I wouldn't put my hand in the fire of truth and say that real sandalwood has been processed here, but it RIGHT simply like good real sandalwood and not like some stupid substitute, which, because it's cheaper, promises shareholders a richer return and the carpet floor thicker dividends...
(exhale)
That was simply meant to be said. Well, I'm gonna go oil my lawn tractor. So that the neighborhood can enjoy its rich sound on this beautiful Saturday afternoon.
Start the lawn mower!
Let the stem and stems sprout.
Herbs, greens, small trees
carve the same way.
Don't stop for violets,
Bitter and sweet oranges and bitter and sweet -
and all flower particles.
And up in the sandal branches
cackle with the nutcracker
and sway in their round dance
in the two-stroke of your Tonka Mower.
* *
Children, the good uncle Unterholz is also writing poetry now and will tell you how to do it with the Paföngs Today it is so that the possibly untrained but inclined perfume interested person / the willing buyer in the exalted state of the collection expansion urge in a department store, a perfumery, drugstore, which is always trying to impress with crazy head note bragging or even to dupe to the perfume purchase Sprayed briefly in front of the shelf, doesn't smell bad, bought on the spot! At least that's what the ideal scene looks like from the sales staff's point of view
But the freshly flaked pilgrim at home is usually threatened by one or the other sobering experience when the head note bang is long gone and post-coital depression (or at least disillusionment) is already spreading in the form of the final scent phase. On your wrist there is nothing left of the lust-healing top note (and the at best not even bad heart note), but a lukewarm chemical breeze, usually labeled by the manufacturer as "noble / exotic woods" or even "sandalwood" and richly garnished with further fantasy notes of your choice (vanilla=vanillin, guaiac wood=guajacol, amber=ambrox etc.)
I say: Stop your sandalwood rasping! As much sandalwood as the whole industry claims to process and chop up, is no longer vertical. What we have in front of us in most of the sloppy pafum creations is simply the chemical substitute for it and I think that in 90% of the cases it simply smells cheap, clumsy, chemical, unattractive, unsexy and annoying. Or it's simply made!!!
At this point, 80% of all manufacturers / perfume brands / niche scenes / fragrance designers / (optionally using other representatives of the industry) can cut a big slice off Lush. But from the beginning.
When you enter a Lush shop for the first time, you don't get the feeling that you are getting high-quality fragrances under your nose. Most of the time, you are immediately gripped by one of the somewhat over-motivated employees, along with the exuberant bath-ball-bubblegum-gum-gummy bear nimbus, and you are already receptorily completely overwhelmed in the clutches of the company. But if you smile politely and gain the freedom to look around first, you'll end up in front of the Lush perfume shelf. Admittedly, optically there is still air up here, but so be it. We're going to test in peace.
Arrived at home with the applied (but not yet purchased) fragrances, you notice on your wrist sniffing that most Lush creations go the opposite way. The top note may appear a bit hysterical in the shop, as in the case of grass, a too much of green juiciness, somehow squeaky, jumpy, over-excited, as if you were having a bunch of teenage forest elephants with ADHD redesign your garden.
But at some point in the course of Grass, at first one thought of a fun scent commissioned by the Lawn Barber Guild, one swore that this was an absolutely high-quality, well-composed perfume. Where chemistry is used in such a way that it smells GOOD and natural raw materials are also natural raw materials and produce a harmonious overall picture.
I wouldn't put my hand in the fire of truth and say that real sandalwood has been processed here, but it RIGHT simply like good real sandalwood and not like some stupid substitute, which, because it's cheaper, promises shareholders a richer return and the carpet floor thicker dividends...
(exhale)
That was simply meant to be said. Well, I'm gonna go oil my lawn tractor. So that the neighborhood can enjoy its rich sound on this beautiful Saturday afternoon.
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