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Matt and his cat
Dear dear readers,
before I hereby forfeit my "commentary innocence", one thing in advance:
I am aware that many users of this forum reject fragrances containing genuine animal ingredients on ethical grounds from the outset. I understand this very well because, unlike the extraction of musk glands from already dead deer, which are hunted primarily for their meat, the extraction of glandular secretions from live animals is certainly a very painful and questionable procedure, which I would like to make absolutely no blandishment at this point.
Still, I have to admit that at least once in my life I wanted to know what real civet smells like, similar to how other people would like to try a lobster (not very nice for the animal either) or once risky and selfishly dashing along the highway with 300+ things in a rental sports car (not exactly the same, I know).
So at this point I would like to say "ashes on my head" and the promise to balance my karma account as soon as possible ;-)
And now to the actual topic:
Today the much longed for "Civet Cat Chypre" finally arrived from Vancouver after a long odyssey (Matthew Meleg had placed my order with "surface mail" by mistake).
Awe-inspiringly I opened the small beige package and looked at the simple but noble, flat glass flacon.
What would she smell like, the legendary "cat", whose scent was so often used in perfumes from times gone by?
Having read the terms "cat's pee" and "urine" in various reviews of other fragrances containing civet (or its synthetic variant), I pressed the atomizer death-defyingly, albeit a little anxiously, and aimed at my right elbow with narrowed eyes.
The surprise came promptly, but completely different than expected. What I found there, hidden between all kinds of loud, soapy and flowery notes, penetrated my nose, reminding me of grated Parmigiano reggiano. Admittedly, not a fragrance that seems particularly desirable in a perfume, but had I just feared that my cats might react hostilely to the supposed intruder, I now wondered, confused for a moment, whether I wouldn't attract mice instead.
However, this performance was destroyed within a few seconds and the "cheese note" disappeared completely. From minute to minute the smell changed and slowly turned from a rather shrill, aldehyde-infused bouquet of flowers (rose and especially jasmine) to a soft and warm scent.
Now, after 4 hours, I think the tonka bean and the wood notes are in the foreground and the "cat" purrs along quite juicily. It smells "cuddly" and "cosy" and invites you to relax. I like the smell on my skin very much and have the impression that the scent is now much closer to my body and "more personal" and does not radiate as extremely as at the beginning.
I have tried the perfume very carefully and used only a single spray, which I will probably continue to do in the future, as I think that it is quite sufficient to be able to perceive the fragrance well by itself, but at the same time to spare others who may actually have a "cat pee" association
Fun Fact at the end: The smell of female genitalia associated with Matthew Meleg is something I (after all, I am the owner of female genitalia myself) cannot comprehend. A soft (synthetic) musk, as I remember it in a 90s bottling of "Clair de Musc" by Serge Lutens and in "Kingdom" by Alexander McQueen, would be a more apt olfactory double. It was precisely the latter fragrance that brought an American friend the astonished (unfortunately widely audible) exclamation "Whoa! Smells like my fingers after prom night back then Of course, we left the perfumery immediately and under the disturbed eyes of some people within earshot..