Patchouli
Vetiver
Cedar
Oakmoss absolute
Frankincense absolute
Papyrus absolute
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Notes08/06/2021
Siebenkäs
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Siebenkäs
Top Review
21
News from the "Duft-Bote
Rumors that "The Perfume Man" had parted company with his reporter
7-Cheese had parted ways, we strongly deny.
(It may be that such a thing was briefly talked about because he again-
fetches our editor-in-chief's Demeter yogurt from the
Company refrigerator to go with it. However, after we
learned of his new coup in fragrance,
his resignation was immediately rescinded, especially since he replaced the
stolen yogurt was replaced, albeit only by two
Aldi yogurts)
So here is his, we think, exciting report:
"Friday, 5pm 10th
...with the new sample from the headquarters of the fragrance guru J.Acko
arrived in Paris. Just the right place to launch this
special perfume in style to test. Because my maxim
is and remains now times - always think of the reader!
And do not save. (aren't the expenses ultimately
ridiculous when it comes to delivering premium content for the
"Scent Messenger"?)
While I consider whether the room at the Ritz is big enough
for a first test, I place the test unit gently
in front of me on the Louis Quinze secretary.
Well then - bravely fresh way 3-4 sprayers dowelled on it...
and still 2 as a booster on my new Charvet shirt.
(just at the Place Vendome as a test shirt for the fragrance
acquired. )
Aha.
A slightly ethereal entry, but with an immediate
Impression of dry wood arises, which then after
and gradually unfolds into the image of a complete forest.
But this is not a normal forest, much more a special forest permeated by a
certain power permeated special forest, somehow
french refined.
But how? And to what end?
I can't possibly fathom that here in this dull hotel room
in this dull hotel room A glass of Chablis and a little dinner might
my imagination and my ability to formulate.. Leaps and bounds..."
"6:25 p.m., at the entrance to L'Arpège in the Rue Varenne.
The liveryman won't let me in, without a reservation.
I pull out my press pass, he just smiles tiredly.
When I repeatedly yell, "The perfume guy," he
finally relents.
Soon I am seated at a nice little table.
Not the best view of the place, but not badly
located, very close to the door to the toilets.
I order a glass of Chablis and a burger with fries.
But they don't have them here, the waiter says that almost
indignantly. Instead, he recommends the menu Surprise.
Because of me. I nod nonchalantly.
But now back to the scent, you are surely already curious,
dear readers.
So back to the forest.
I sniff myself.
The scent is indeed reminiscent of a forest, but one
of very controlled originality, without loudness and
Wild growth, but with an aura of chic inappropriateness.
"Monsieur" takes elements from a wild, nature-dominated
Forest and tames them so that their roughness and pithiness fit perfectly
fit into the urban jungle. And just there especially well
work - for example, like a Barbour jacket.
Or a slightly dirty jeep in front of the Opéra.
In addition, there is - you can smell it early - a certain
non-aquatic rock freshness, which reminds of mountains and whitewater
reminds. It holds back, however, it merely ensures
that the forest is not too arid.
The whole thing is grounded by - well, what do you think? By moist
Earth and some patchouli. Matschouli so to speak.
This works wonderfully and elegantly, together with the
noble-looking woods, everything seems immensely distinguished and
parisian.
As expected, the Chablis has loosened my formulation motor
loosened up. I note my impressions immediately, the word
"distinguished" I underline three times.
Posh is the card too, made of heavy handmade paper.
Then I see what the menu Surprise costs. 800 euros.
Well, at least the L'Arpège has 3 stars.
Slight doubts rise in me... whether the chief editor
about the settlement of my expenses only with displeasure...
Then my waiter comes out of the kitchen with a greeting.. as I know it from my favorite restaurant at home. Here
it's not a little note that discreetly reminds me
my unpaid bill from last time.
But rather something small to eat. Nice.
Maybe they'll think I'm a food critic if
if I write a lot? And I don't have to pay... No, that
would look like corruption, wouldn't it?
Slightly nervous, I stand up and head for the exit.
"Fumer... je reviens...", I mutter towards the waiter.
Outside, it's cool-dusky. I don't smoke, of course,
for a long time.
Quite a few taxis are parked in front of the pub.
I follow a sudden inspiration and get into one
one of them. "Père Lachaise, s'il vous plait...", I just say.
On the way, I continue to meditate on the scent. Logically, always
in use, for you, dear reader!
On the way, I ask the driver to stop briefly at an Indian
Sandwich stand in the Marais to stop, where I get myself for the trip
a sandwich "mushroom special."
Now something about the smell reminds me of the short time
i used to smoke. (Mainly because I just
looked so casual with a cigarette
just looked so casual - which is why I also no value on
the quality of the cigarettes, I consumed only very
cheap brands like "Schnorratti Privat", "Rinnstein Auslese"
or "Van Anderen.")
That slight smoky note in the fragrance - isn't it the link
from the wilderness to culture? Smoke in the hearth as the main feature
of civilization... the tamed wildness of fire...
There's also a bit of incense now - a slightly
esoteric element so. In addition, a healing tincture-like note,
the breath of a French magic potion, with which you can
no Romans can thrash, but more supple in the
Bon Chic Bon Genre sphere... well, maybe.
At least that's how you feel..."
"19.47, entrance to Père Lachaise...
Was this really a good idea, visiting celebrity graves here
like Jim Morrison's? Just to make the
Connection of the fragrance between Parisian bohemia and
the spirit of rock 'n' roll to explore? Is there?
Anyway. For the reader, you have to be willing to take any detour
for the reader I walk off the main path, onto a small trail that
leads me deeper into the darkness of the cemetery.
The woodsy and now woodsy-tender-smoky aura of the fragrance
mingles, yes muddles, beautifully with the damp-green
fresh evening air.
I sit down on a stone bench.
What happens now may sound strange. But I'm
i'm sure the reader will believe me, for how many
olfactory incredible adventures have I not
faithfully recounted?
A fox comes out of the bushes, looks at
me and laces closer to me. Strange. Rabies? (the animals
then lose their shyness)
He sits down right next to me.
"Do you know what this is?" asks the fox.
I remain silent, embarrassed.
"Well, this is my town. Here I know everything, every path,
every tree. Only when I want wilderness - then I
out, into your streets. Your city is to me what the forest is to you the forest is..."
"Very interesting!", I say softly...
"You smell just like the border between the forest and the city...",
said the fox..."
And here ends the report.
By the way, there's still for a short time at the conclusion of a subscription
of the "Perfumed Messenger" two orange-covered folding camping chairs.
Or the popular thermos with oud wood pattern.
(unfortunately, our intern missed the photos of these.
But I'm sure you can picture them just fine.)
7-Cheese had parted ways, we strongly deny.
(It may be that such a thing was briefly talked about because he again-
fetches our editor-in-chief's Demeter yogurt from the
Company refrigerator to go with it. However, after we
learned of his new coup in fragrance,
his resignation was immediately rescinded, especially since he replaced the
stolen yogurt was replaced, albeit only by two
Aldi yogurts)
So here is his, we think, exciting report:
"Friday, 5pm 10th
...with the new sample from the headquarters of the fragrance guru J.Acko
arrived in Paris. Just the right place to launch this
special perfume in style to test. Because my maxim
is and remains now times - always think of the reader!
And do not save. (aren't the expenses ultimately
ridiculous when it comes to delivering premium content for the
"Scent Messenger"?)
While I consider whether the room at the Ritz is big enough
for a first test, I place the test unit gently
in front of me on the Louis Quinze secretary.
Well then - bravely fresh way 3-4 sprayers dowelled on it...
and still 2 as a booster on my new Charvet shirt.
(just at the Place Vendome as a test shirt for the fragrance
acquired. )
Aha.
A slightly ethereal entry, but with an immediate
Impression of dry wood arises, which then after
and gradually unfolds into the image of a complete forest.
But this is not a normal forest, much more a special forest permeated by a
certain power permeated special forest, somehow
french refined.
But how? And to what end?
I can't possibly fathom that here in this dull hotel room
in this dull hotel room A glass of Chablis and a little dinner might
my imagination and my ability to formulate.. Leaps and bounds..."
"6:25 p.m., at the entrance to L'Arpège in the Rue Varenne.
The liveryman won't let me in, without a reservation.
I pull out my press pass, he just smiles tiredly.
When I repeatedly yell, "The perfume guy," he
finally relents.
Soon I am seated at a nice little table.
Not the best view of the place, but not badly
located, very close to the door to the toilets.
I order a glass of Chablis and a burger with fries.
But they don't have them here, the waiter says that almost
indignantly. Instead, he recommends the menu Surprise.
Because of me. I nod nonchalantly.
But now back to the scent, you are surely already curious,
dear readers.
So back to the forest.
I sniff myself.
The scent is indeed reminiscent of a forest, but one
of very controlled originality, without loudness and
Wild growth, but with an aura of chic inappropriateness.
"Monsieur" takes elements from a wild, nature-dominated
Forest and tames them so that their roughness and pithiness fit perfectly
fit into the urban jungle. And just there especially well
work - for example, like a Barbour jacket.
Or a slightly dirty jeep in front of the Opéra.
In addition, there is - you can smell it early - a certain
non-aquatic rock freshness, which reminds of mountains and whitewater
reminds. It holds back, however, it merely ensures
that the forest is not too arid.
The whole thing is grounded by - well, what do you think? By moist
Earth and some patchouli. Matschouli so to speak.
This works wonderfully and elegantly, together with the
noble-looking woods, everything seems immensely distinguished and
parisian.
As expected, the Chablis has loosened my formulation motor
loosened up. I note my impressions immediately, the word
"distinguished" I underline three times.
Posh is the card too, made of heavy handmade paper.
Then I see what the menu Surprise costs. 800 euros.
Well, at least the L'Arpège has 3 stars.
Slight doubts rise in me... whether the chief editor
about the settlement of my expenses only with displeasure...
Then my waiter comes out of the kitchen with a greeting.. as I know it from my favorite restaurant at home. Here
it's not a little note that discreetly reminds me
my unpaid bill from last time.
But rather something small to eat. Nice.
Maybe they'll think I'm a food critic if
if I write a lot? And I don't have to pay... No, that
would look like corruption, wouldn't it?
Slightly nervous, I stand up and head for the exit.
"Fumer... je reviens...", I mutter towards the waiter.
Outside, it's cool-dusky. I don't smoke, of course,
for a long time.
Quite a few taxis are parked in front of the pub.
I follow a sudden inspiration and get into one
one of them. "Père Lachaise, s'il vous plait...", I just say.
On the way, I continue to meditate on the scent. Logically, always
in use, for you, dear reader!
On the way, I ask the driver to stop briefly at an Indian
Sandwich stand in the Marais to stop, where I get myself for the trip
a sandwich "mushroom special."
Now something about the smell reminds me of the short time
i used to smoke. (Mainly because I just
looked so casual with a cigarette
just looked so casual - which is why I also no value on
the quality of the cigarettes, I consumed only very
cheap brands like "Schnorratti Privat", "Rinnstein Auslese"
or "Van Anderen.")
That slight smoky note in the fragrance - isn't it the link
from the wilderness to culture? Smoke in the hearth as the main feature
of civilization... the tamed wildness of fire...
There's also a bit of incense now - a slightly
esoteric element so. In addition, a healing tincture-like note,
the breath of a French magic potion, with which you can
no Romans can thrash, but more supple in the
Bon Chic Bon Genre sphere... well, maybe.
At least that's how you feel..."
"19.47, entrance to Père Lachaise...
Was this really a good idea, visiting celebrity graves here
like Jim Morrison's? Just to make the
Connection of the fragrance between Parisian bohemia and
the spirit of rock 'n' roll to explore? Is there?
Anyway. For the reader, you have to be willing to take any detour
for the reader I walk off the main path, onto a small trail that
leads me deeper into the darkness of the cemetery.
The woodsy and now woodsy-tender-smoky aura of the fragrance
mingles, yes muddles, beautifully with the damp-green
fresh evening air.
I sit down on a stone bench.
What happens now may sound strange. But I'm
i'm sure the reader will believe me, for how many
olfactory incredible adventures have I not
faithfully recounted?
A fox comes out of the bushes, looks at
me and laces closer to me. Strange. Rabies? (the animals
then lose their shyness)
He sits down right next to me.
"Do you know what this is?" asks the fox.
I remain silent, embarrassed.
"Well, this is my town. Here I know everything, every path,
every tree. Only when I want wilderness - then I
out, into your streets. Your city is to me what the forest is to you the forest is..."
"Very interesting!", I say softly...
"You smell just like the border between the forest and the city...",
said the fox..."
And here ends the report.
By the way, there's still for a short time at the conclusion of a subscription
of the "Perfumed Messenger" two orange-covered folding camping chairs.
Or the popular thermos with oud wood pattern.
(unfortunately, our intern missed the photos of these.
But I'm sure you can picture them just fine.)
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