It opens with the image of a soft citric, oscillating between grapefruit and orange, only to settle on mandarin peel. It is the thick, moist, not very odour-intensive tangerine peel that can be easily detached from the fruit flesh. The furry white inner skin adheres to them, the flesh is unharmed.
Now the background of the picture is slowly becoming visible. An office landscape, sparingly and tastefully furnished, made of selected, solid, high-quality and stably screwed materials: glass, wood and shiny plastic. Somewhere there might be a bowl of berries on the table, for guests to nibble on (sweets would be too unhealthy), somewhere a modern glass vase with sparsely decorated cut flowers (flower pots are avoided as too petit bourgeois). The office is paper-free (no piles of files) and excellently maintained (no dust).
After about fifteen minutes, when the eye has become accustomed to the picture, the decisive detail comes to the fore: an accessory made of rich, thick and above all soft leather (light), one that you would like to stroke over, feel its grain pattern, dense, cool, firm. Whether it contains the richly clacking mechanism of a Filofax or the latest i-gadget, it is impossible to tell.
The mandarin further underpins the event. We were sure that it is one, but now we are hesitating; a red grapefruit, or rather a tart pomelo, also with thick skin and a lot of wet white inner fur, is also a possibility.
After an hour: unification and calming, no more new pictures, getting used to the soft leather, the implied floral, the mandarin for the mandarin who is in this office. Residual freshness. Life can go on concentrated and animated.
After about two or three hours (unimpressed by any washing in between) another surprise and reversal: what remains now is not a typical base note, not a late wine, but an almost classic orange, muted and slightly woody-creamy, but now even slightly fleshy; a winking goodbye fun, as if Eau de Memo was simply a classic, hundred-year-old Eau de Portugal.
Eau de Memo by Memo Paris is clearly conceived and functions as a cologne: a simple, beautiful work of art in between for pleasing, cultivated refreshment, no fragrance for evening wear. However, it is called Eau de Parfum and costs 205 euros per 100 ml, which is a good deal. This corresponds to the situation at "Gunpowder Cologne EdP" for 180 Euro by Urban Scents.
Eau de Memo rewards, however, with a (compared to a cologne) remarkable durability (if the skin-near final phase is included), with uncompromising solidity and goodness and, yet, with an inconspicuous kind of exclusivity, even nobility.
Because this fragrance marks an exceptional case, the unreservedly successful, ultra-modern reinterpretation of a classic fragrance line, here the Eau de Cologne (according to my perception in orange, the lemon and bergamot from the fragrance declaration, I think rather a joke). The citric notes are muted, but not simply hidden behind veils of synthetic or musky, but artfully "reduced" (in the sense in which the word is used in cooking) around their acidic, pungent and superficially fruity parts.
Famous both for her fine nose and her persistent unwillingness to create subtle scent descriptions and interactions, Ms. von Spee is already enthusiastic about eau de memo (which she simply likes to connote as "fresh laundry") at eight meters. The fragrance is one of the handful that she calls the remarkable exclamation "Buy it! (though of course always with a slight undertone of "and not the nonsense you usually buy")
I will perhaps deal with the "Memo Paris" house some other time, but for the time being, the flacons are beautiful and the issuance policy appears worryingly inflationary.
Also in this commentary I would like to add fragrances that would fit into the series, but which are not (again) commented by me, because they were commented by me before the start of the Cologne series.
Colonial goods VIIa and VIIb (fougère and chypre, both from Alpa)
Under "Colonialwaren I" I remarked to "Russische EdC" by Lehmann that it is between a Fougère and a Chypre. This gives reason to add here the two angular and not very simple, but nevertheless beautiful, at least original colognes called (quite simply) Fougère and Chypre of Alpa. Chypre also likes the retro label and Fougère the special shape (hand grenade-spray can cross) of the 200 ml bottle
Fougère was a habit of mine, as a refreshment splash after sport, last week I actually used up the bottles!