As soon as I stand in the perfumery, see the big golden bars, see the pimped XS bottles at another place and turn up my nose at the rather young clientele of buyers, who may express themselves vulgarly and not in complete sentences, I am caught in the spiral of clichés par excellence. These clichés, some of which may be true, but are still not representative - even if you like to talk yourself into them - sometimes ensure that I don't pay any attention to certain scent corners when I enter the turquoise.
Well, I've made up my mind before. The occasion here was a small group of young people, I guess they were between sixteen and seventeen years old, standing in front of the Prollo Rabane shelf and talking excitedly about Privé, who was still quite fresh, but somehow never really made a great impression. I was about to switch to draught when I heard one of them say that this one wasn't as disgusting as the original 1 million. Oops, suddenly I got curious, too.
When the youth group moved away and they finally had room in front of the shelf, a little paper was sprayed first. And I got upset about that ugly bottle. I don't feel anything valuable or pretty at all and due to the success and the degree of popularity I will probably have to accept that Prollo Rabane, how can you blame the brand, will continue to rely on this container. If I had to make money with scents, I'd do the same.
But back to the subject.
On the paper test strip I was greeted by a delicious fruitiness that was neither too sweet nor too sticky-synthetic. So I dared, a spray shot landed on the back of my hand.
My nose was greeted by the blood mandarin, which was wonderfully fruity but by no means extremely sweet. Cinnamon followed and a lot of it. I like cinnamon, love its aromatic, airy, dry seasoning and associate it with my childhood days in which rice pudding with sugar and cinnamon was the favourite food.
But we're dealing with Prollo Rabane here. So there's no need to fall into nostalgia. This is withheld from other fragrances.
The shisha tobacco, which brought a cherry note into play, which was immediately encased in dry, spicy cinnamon and complemented by the blood orange, which was increasingly discreetly pushed into the background, went on. A beautiful sweetness spread itself, which fortunately did not remind of chewing gum or over-sugared milk shakes, but knew how to bribe balanced and with a great spice. The combination of cinnamon and an aroma close to that of cherries is one you can't really do much wrong with. So this fragrance is nothing new, nothing groundbreaking, but something tried and tested, something sweet and spicy, which doesn't pinch in the nose and already, in the middle of the fragrance, appears much more mature than the big, completely golden brother would ever do. This adulthood was rounded off at the end with the incipient tonka bean, which provided a little more depth through its vanilla appearance and prevented threatening one-dimensionality. Unfortunately, I didn't notice anything about the patchouli during testing.
Let's get this straight:
Contrary to the cliché caused by the use of this ugly flacon - sorry, my humble opinion - this fragrance house, which is currently dedicated to the rather young public, has managed to create a youthful, mature million, which does not exaggerate the sweetness, which also does not stick so well and also does not radiate so brutally, although I am rather of the opinion, similar to Joop Homme, that there is no too strong sillage, but only the wrong dosage. Cinnamon lovers should definitely try it, should give it a chance. Those who do not like cinnamon will definitely not get warm with this fragrance.
Conclusion: Beautiful fragrance, but in the end nothing that I absolutely need. Did I ever tell you that the container was ugly?