Aglianico

Oh, what beautiful, complex, exuberant, extremely exciting fragrances there is not! Fragrances that are so interestingly composed and whose course turns out to be so amazing that you just want to have them - even if you don't really know when you want to wear them (or could, without frightening your loved ones) before you buy them. I like to jokingly call these scents "vernissage scents" (for me Joop! Homme belongs to this group). But who of us regularly goes to such seeing and being seen happenings? Probably the fewest.

Chic for Men does not fall into this category. He is an uncomplicated all-rounder with an almost frightening versatility - I can only agree with Basti. Clearly born in summer, it can easily be worn in all seasons, provided it does not have to be "out in the fresh air" in winter. He'd catch a cold. It goes with a T-shirt, shirt and suit, a date, work, evening "Me Moments". He's friendly, cheerful, but he doesn't scream.

A somewhat artificial, but pleasant fruitiness dominates the first minutes and lasts a few hours depending on the nose. I wonder if that's watermelon Well... Buy a watermelon from your trusted fruit dealer and compare. In any case, a certain "wateriness" cannot be denied. The cardamom, on the other hand, is much easier to sniff out and is at least related to La Nuit de l'Homme. Or actually the other way around, because Chic dates back to 2004. With Chic, however, I find the cardamom to be more uncomplicated and more wearable; with LNDLH, unfortunately, it quickly triggers a headache in me. After a few hours, chic changes noticeably, becomes wooden in a very light and pleasant way, and is probably very close. Adults, but not old-fashioned.

Throughout, it is unobtrusive, warm, slightly sweet in an ungourmandy way, and especially the first few hours fresh, without being a "citric". Chic in the best sense of the word is the opposite of a spectacular fragrance. But that's exactly why I like him. He's really, really uncomplicated. Sometimes it doesn't have to be twelve-tone music or the Kindertotenlieder by Gustav Mahler, but "simply" well-done, contemporary, popular mainstream to-go. You don't tear out trees with it, but you have a good time.

Personally, I think Chic could have easily moved into the Top20 or, say, Top50 of the perfume charts (men). Side by side with Acqua di Giò, ck one, Invictus or Sun Men - and would, according to my nose, have left all these scents behind in terms of beauty and fragrance. But it is not, which may also be due to the distribution channels. The perfumes of Carolina Herrera are not easy to find here in Germany - the largest selection is often still available in the duty-free worlds of airports or online. And even within the "Carolina Herrera" family, Chic stands in the shadow of the CH Men series, especially with the popular CH Men Privé. The perfume numbers show it: CH Men Privé have about five and a half times as many perfume enthusiasts as Chic. This makes Chic a kind of insider tip flying under the radar - with less than thirty Euros even a very cheap one.

Clear test recommendation, especially for (rather younger) gentlemen who are looking for a versatile "mainstream fragrance" for a relatively low price and wish for a fragrance that they will probably never smell on the street at others.

Simple things can sometimes just be good.

A well-known online encyclopedia states: "Appeals, including appeals, are appeals against a judgment of the first instance." With this comment I am appealing against my own first judgment on Cargo de Nuit. Only a few weeks ago I gave a seven and a half, combined with the meanwhile deleted statement, that he has certain bonds of White Musk (Bodyshop, a tenth of the price), but unfortunately I don't show much more than that. The weakness, which is often noticed, I signed blindly.

And then my vacation got in the way. Milan. A city full of temptations for fashion enthusiasts (me not) and perfume lovers (me a bit). A city that sucks in money and, after entering a four-digit pin, simply lets it disappear into nowhere. End of August a relatively empty (summer holidays), brooding hot plaster. Off to the air-conditioned perfumeries and department stores! What there wasn't to discover ...

... among others also the Olfactories series by Prada, priced up like the Parco Palladiano series by Bottega Veneta or the La Collection Privée Christian Dior. There was something, I thought. And there was indeed Cargo de Nuit, that fragrance that I mediocrely judged to have the sounding, strange, curious name, of which I still don't know whether it alludes to a French hit of the 80s - by a certain Axel Bauer - or has any connection to Midnight Train and Moonlight Shadow from the same series. "Cargo ship of the night" - or how to translate it? Sounds a bit like McDonalds is naming a new burger "Melancholy of the Pampa Cow"; you could philosophize about it for a long time. Anyway.

After the first acquaintance via Parfumo-Sharing (thanks to Niklas) I wanted to give the night freighter a second chance. In the basement of a large perfumery, which also creates its own fragrances and is known for an Aventus "clone", I was allowed to test Cargo de Nuit again on my skin and my shirt as well as on a strip of paper. First at 22, 23 degrees, then outside at 32, 33.

Yes, I stick with a dominant musk impression, which might come from the Ambrettesamen (Bisameibisch, Abelmoschus), which according to research are often used as substitutes for animal musk. For me, however, this has nothing animal about it, but something soothing and soft. I wouldn't personally speak of "clean" as in Infusion d'Iris Cèdre, for example, even though I understand why this association may easily arise. By the way, Prada herself gives musk instead of Ambrettesamen. Complete: musk, aldehyde (very generic), woody and mineral notes (very generic), amber, ambroxan (I don't get it), coumarin. Here, too, be that as it may. It depends on the smell - and this can be "realized" in different ways, just like the smell notes mostly rather Assozationen, not necessarily ingredients seem to be.

Many here have a woodruff association, which might originate from the coumarin. I'm a little ambivalent. In a nearby herb garden I picked a handful of woodruff and compared it several times with Cargo de Nuit: fresh, after about an hour, after six, half a day ... My impression: This slightly sweet, "floating", not at all bitterly spicy in Cargo de Nuit may be coumarin, but no woodruff. But I admit that I once smelled the scent with a half-snuffed nose and then suddenly thought of Waldmeister (I find it exciting how different, almost strange and new scents can smell then). Still, if you're looking for a woodruff, you'd better look somewhere else. But a dominant note of this perfume goes at least in that direction.

By the way, the mentioned coumarin note can also be smelled in the Luna Rossa Black, but for my taste it is dressed in too much distracting intense woodiness (?).

In Cargo de Nuit, Daniela Andrier weaves these two fragrances - something musky and something coumarin-like - into a quiet, discreet scent, which I probably failed in the first instance because it is completely unspectacular and unobtrusive and only then becomes not only "nice", but really beautiful, when you smell and surrender to it very precisely. Cargo de Nuit is then (for me at least) a wonderful, soulful, cuddly scent, a mist of scent in the forest, so delicate that it resembles a transparent, pale green powder cloud. Yes, he's wrapping up, yes, he's blessing. And yes, he's not loud at all. With the Infusion d'Iris Cèdre, for example, he shares decency and seriousness, but is warmer, more approachable, while the latter scent seems a bit more artificial and distant in my opinion (which I think is very nice there, though).

All this makes Cargo de Nuit for me a fragrance that can be worn wonderfully at work, even and especially when you have a lot of contact with other people. This functionality is inherent in many Prada fragrances anyway (e.g. numerous infusions or the L'homme). Cargo de Nuit almost always fits somehow. At work, in my spare time, on a date. Only for a "loud night out" would he be too quiet. I also find it really unisex compared to numerous "infusions", or let's say gender neutral.

Once, on a cool summer evening, I sprayed it on a cuddly soft sweater. And there arose a magic all of its own. In my case Cargo de Nuit is quite fleeting on the skin (or I adapt too quickly), but on clothing it is strangely like a persistent, gentle cloud of cotton wool powder, delicious and unobtrusive, delicately sweet and yet completely ungourmandig. A little dream, although none with the greatest endurance. I look, with all joy over the many suns, but already eagerly towards the fresher, colder days, on which this smell will produce as by magic hand an impression of cuddlyness, cosiness, cosiness, hygge, or whatever you like to call it

Is it worth its price? Standard answer: Everyone has to decide for themselves. I must honestly say: Probably nine out of ten interested people will be disappointed after a detailed test, because they would have expected "more" for all the money. I understand that. I understand that. Only for me, unfortunately, it just fits pretty well. It is not spectacularly booming, not a wonder of the world, not a work of art. But he is simply very well done - and with the necessary patience he showed me all his gentle subtlety. I will be happy to wear it, especially in autumn and spring, at work or afterwards to relax and be cuddly and fragrant.

If I could only own one fragrance, one - I would probably choose 'The One' (EdP). That surprises me a little myself. Because it's not the best fragrance I own, let alone ever smelled. And it's also not exactly a fragrance that is very versatile (again a term that no normal person would ever use - what you don't learn here ...). Not to mention the durability (which is not bad, but also not championsleageworthy).

I think I just like these heavier, more powerful, southern scents, which of course have nothing in common with the real heavyweights of the Oud Rose Incense&c. fraction, and which have a certain favor inscribed in the DNA

An analogy might help to explain what I mean.

In the case of wines, there are roughly three large families (red, white and sparkling; yes, you can argue about it). White wines are usually lighter, brighter, more sparkling. In the perfume world, the citric and their relatives, so to speak. Ultra Male might then be a lovely Gewürztraminer. Red wines are usually heavier, have more revolutions and usually fewer "friends" (at least in my circle of acquaintances). They are (potentially) more complex. Here, too, there are great differences. For example elegantly composed, proud Bordeaux wines with a high Cabernet Sauvignon content (let's say analogous to Guerlain: Cuir Beluga) and "southern" full-bodied wines, a little less noble, but a little warmer, just a matter of taste. For example, a Primitivo from Italy (known in the USA as Zinfandel). So, now finally the comment title becomes understandable.

One of my favourite wines, whose style (to which Aglianico also belongs) is often described as "soft and lush". And that's exactly what The One is for me, too, whereby for me the softness shows itself even more in the EdP and the EdT - minimal - is more untamed. This softness is probably responsible for the good "accessibility" and high sales figures (just as Primitivi sell well in supermarkets).

The One is marked by a distinct orange note, which I would describe as fruity rather than floral, even if orange blossoms are mentioned in the fragrance pyramid. I don't smell a clear grapefruit (like Pomelo Sorrento, which I love a lot at the moment), but I would sign that a discreet acidic component is a nice counterweight to the non-vanilla, non-intrusive sweetness of The One. The whole thing is rounded off by a spiciness that I would describe more as "abstractly Far Eastern" than as "Mediterranean". Again, I would not veto the listed fragrances such as basil, cardamom, coriander and tobacco. But for my nose there are several scents where these scents are more dominant and more recognizable. In The One, it's more of a fusion for me. The whole should be more than the sum of its parts. The same applies to the "amber" component, which is hardly definable anyway. I like to dodge the term "warm". And yes, The One is clearly a warm scent.

The One gets a cutback from me for his edgelessness. After some wearing time I would sometimes wish for a "rebellious element", at least for a few minutes. But this one stays off.

Contrary to many voices, I can imagine him well in summer, in the evenings when the temperatures are getting milder. For example, a visit to a restaurant in an Italian coastal town or a picnic at the local bathing lake. Even if you can wear it very well "just for yourself", I believe it is by nature a sociable fragrance. He loves intimate fellowship (friends, sweetheart) or situations aimed at making one (a.k.a. dates). For parties he is probably a little too "beautiful" and reserved, for the office a little too appealing to the senses. But of course everyone has to decide for himself.

Small supplement to my general fragrance rating

I give 'The One' a 9 for its fragrance. That's pretty outstanding, you might think. In my first weeks here I was a little confused that many scoring scents, which they described as mediocre, give values between 4 and 6, in my opinion very common in older comments - others on the other hand feel to rate 95% of all scents reviewed somewhere between 6.5 and 8. So for some 5 seems to mean "average", for others a rating around and at 7.5.

Meanwhile I hold it like my former physics teacher: His evaluation system is the only thing I remember from class. "100% of the maximum points are 1+, 95% are 1, etc." I combine this system with the rating system of the university: In most university subjects you passed with 50% (a smooth 4) (but not any more).

So The One would be a 1- with me. A very good fragrance with small, marginal smears, which I described above. And the nice thing about Parfumo is that our reviews don't claim to be objective, they are not carved in stone and we don't have to understand Newton's laws to get excited about a fragrance.

A day in late September. Summer has escaped like air from a balloon. The city is waiting for autumn.

The painter on the Place du Tertre is dreaming his way back to summer. First foliage at his feet, the sky grey, Paris melancholic, but different from the Saudade of the Portuguese. The painter, his easel, a stool, the hectic tourists, the inconspicuous locals - everything together is quiet at all volumes.

In front of him a white-primed canvas.

He generously dabs abstract citric on the still emerging picture. Lemon maybe, but he thinks of something that resembles more lemon grass or lemon balm. The scent of this color brings him back the summer and the warmth. He thinks of the weeks he spent in the south, in the Drôme valley. It had been in July and early August. He's always out and about in his little Peugeot. Espenel, Vercheny, Pontaix, Die. He thinks back to the mown meadow on which he spent the night under the starry tent, chirping everywhere, gentle summer night winds in the poplars on the banks of the river, gurgling water.

The mowing, he wonders, how long had it been lying there, sprinkled with dew in the morning, steamed by the sun during the day, a fragrant pillow for his head in the evening? He's trying to paint that smell.

A little bit of citric still, he thinks, layers, blurs, as if the gentle wind of the south were asking both elements to dance.

It needs even more warmth, this picture - warm juices of southern nature. He applies balm with a fan brush. A little here, a little there. Very hidden. It's not about the smell, it's about the warmth. The balm is good for that.

The present brings him back to Paris. He thinks of the fire some time ago, the cathedral. He feels the need to record the event. He lights a piece of leather and blows the smoke against the canvas.

Then he lets everything dry, five, six hours perhaps, in which he dreams of a trench coat, remembers his father's stories about Paris in the 1950s, his reading of Camus' The Case and later Foucault's Insanity and Society. To the changes of the decades and the longing for the enduring.

He looks at the picture and rejoices. Not out loud. It doesn't make him euphoric either. But it touches something in him in a good way. He won't sell it. He'll hang it up at home and look at it from his armchair from time to time. And then all of a sudden everything will be there again, no matter whether snow is priming the squares and stairs of Montmartre outside, as if it were a white canvas and the undescribed future lay softly on the story.

Mascat (Oman), 13.06.2019

On 13 June 2019 the annual perfume conference "Smell Well like Hell" took place in the capital of Oman. Topic this year: "Aventus - Myth and Reality". The international perfume umbrella organisation PIFA had invited. In the following, central passages from the lectures of three keynote speakers will be reproduced, which should illuminate the phenomenon Aventus from different perspectives. It should be noted that the conference is funded by four major perfume lobbying associations: Back to the Ouds, Vetiver International, Greed International and Mademoiselle Chantal.


The statistical perspective (Prof. Dr. rer. parf. h.c. Adam Pineapple)

"(...) Having probably bored you with my introductory words, I would now like to take a somewhat objective perspective on the Aventus phenomenon, or rather: a more objective one. In one of the world's largest perfume forums (Parfumo), Aventus' fragrance receives an average score of 8.5 points on a scale of 10, based on 1659 scores, with the batch code included as a covariate in the calculation. We are dealing with a left-leaning distribution - if one is allowed to say so at all with such a variable categorically interpreted there ..."

Interjection from the auditorium: "All right, Prof! And what does that mean now?"

Pineapple: "Hm, well, I'm actually just delivering numbers and analyses, no interpretations ... Um, I think it's very unlikely that Aventus is a particularly controversial fragrance (even if a review of relevant comments and statements would suggest that). But then a two-compartment distribution with many negative ratings would have been likely. However, this is a selection sample and the high cost of the water is ..."

Interjection: "Aha?! So Aventus is pretty popular with most people as a fragrance, right?"

Pineapple: "This seems a little too undifferentiated to me. Aventus should be a good to very good fragrance, taking into account the measurement error, at least on average, whereby future research should pay particular attention to relevant perfume-socio-demographic variables such as gender, age, region of the perfume, previous perfume experience, but also to confounding variables such as mood at the time of spraying, temperature, presence of pantys and many other factors, and ..."

(...)


The philosophical perspective (Dr. phil. frag. Ambrosia Moos)

"In his epoch-making essay, "What's it like to be a bat?" (Engl. "What is it like to be a bat(chcode)?"), the US-American philosopher Thomas Nagel resolutely opposes so-called reductionist efforts with the highest argumentative rigor after self-experiments with the chemical warfare agent "Bat" by zoologists. His thesis: We can still collect as many "objective" facts about a fragrance as we want (e.g. concerning its composition, its and our temperature, psychochemical connections, ...), we will never, I emphasize: NEVER know what it is like to be an Aventus, um, I mean of course how it feels, smells and what it does with you to smell, perceive or dream Aventus, to smell it. That's really a complicated thought, I admit it. At the same time, however, it frees Aventus from scientific, reductionist considerations."

Interjection: "And what does that mean now?"

Moos: "First of all: Thank you very much for your interesting and profound question! That's a really good question. Hm, please let me think for a moment ..."

(Mrs. Moos' official lecture was finished at this point. In the early break, a few conference topics discussed with Chablis, stimulated and increasingly animated, the logical (in)possibility of the existence of Aventus-Dupes and its ontological independence.)


The Perspective of Religious Studies (Prof. Dr. Jasmin Rose-Apfel)

"(...) I would now like to briefly go into the "Golden Calf" from the 2nd book of Moses and build a bridge to today's Aventus cult, which has probably long since passed its zenith ..."

Occasional boo calls from the auditorium.

"... Aventus is by no means to be understood as a golden calf, but as an untouchable, sublime, superior entity that does not tolerate a king next to it, at least the disciples of this cult, who have historically been living in this world since 2011 A.D. ...

Heavy booing. A panty meets Mrs. Rose Apple in the face.

"... in contrast, however, to the concept of the Trinity, the cult of Aventus assumes a multiplicity, namely from - more or less controversially - hierarchically ordered so-called batches, which, so to speak, together form the All-One, the Aventus ..."

From the auditorium you can hear unpleasant interjections like "You atheist cow!" Several shoes hit the lectern. Mrs. Rose apple can save herself through a side entrance.

(...)

Those who had not fallen asleep after a total of twelve hours of controversial lectures applauded enthusiastically at the end of the conference. For reasons of volume, we are unfortunately unable to provide you with a summary of the many other exciting lectures (Aventus from a literary-historical, comparative ethnological, psychological, biochemical and quantum-physical perspective).

But we have captured for you, dear reader, in the foyer of the conference hall a few more voices from visitors of the conference ("How do you actually like the Aventus?"):

"Ey, this is absolutely blatant, a revelation, these are the tears of God in a bottle of diamond! He's flashing you, it's not bras flying, it's panties on stage! The King, there's nothing against Elvis. So sublime, genius, I feel ten times more confident when I spray this on. I don't wear Him, Aventus wears me and at the same time I fly. ... Why are you laughing?!!"

"I don't see it as complicated as these ladies and gentlemen scientists. I have a bottling of Aventus, batch code, um, wait a minute, oh, no matter ... Anyway, it's in my bathroom and every few days I feel like carrying it to work. And then I spray it on myself. Got a dozen other scents. Likes them all."

"I find that completely overpriced. Good smell, but also a status symbol of some people (in Germany probably less than 0.05 % of the population, even if they say they smell it EVERYWHERE). The Dupes are doing the same for me. The fragrance is important to me, not the brand or any cult, even if you can hardly say that openly nowadays, as Mrs Rose-Apfel has proven."

"Well, I think it's possible to overdo it. This is a fragrance that I personally like very much with its freshness and masculinity. It can be used flexibly, holds well and is almost never out of place. Others like him too, or they don't. That's perfectly okay. It's just a scent like any other. His goodness depends on our feelings, not on the scent itself."

"I think it's gnarly that a single scent can do something like this. Just sit back and enjoy. If the old knight can do one thing, it's entertainment."

We are happy to announce today that the next "Smell Well like Hell" will take place in California. "Oud 66 - Save the bald eagle."