Alexxx

I must confess, up to now I have not really been a big fan of Montale. I've often come across a lot of loudness in the fragrances I don't like. There is one flacon design that I don't like that much. And there were a total of four scents tested so far, none of which I really liked. Now the opportunity arose to test Sensual Instinct and I thought to myself: Come give them another chance. After all, the ingredients list contains scents that I all appreciate.

What can I say - I am extremely positively surprised and even a little enthusiastic. I spray it on and there it sounds. First briefly diffuse and then very clearly: Tom Ford's "Noir de Noir". I consider this classic from the Private Blend series to be a wonderful, desirable fragrance, which is also in my collection. Sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly, on my skin, it is usually that decisive bit too flowery-sweet and thus a touch too feminine for me, which is why the occasions when I wear it are really rare.

But the Montale, although it does a lot of things similar to the Tom Ford, again seems a touch less flowery-sweet. There is the rose, which, although present in its beauty, is not too much in the foreground. Together with the resinous-sweet flowing amber note, the fragrance gets something incredibly smooth, but not too sweet.

And so I think Sensual Instinct is the more usable version of Noir de Noir for men. Whoever likes the latter should give Sensual Instinct a chance. And you lovely ladies should do so anyway. All because of the price discrepancy between the two fragrances.

Apart from that I consider Sensual Instinct a beautiful, successful scent for going out or for primarily evening leisure or festive occasions. Since it naturally lacks lightness, it is not necessarily a candidate for the summer, especially during the day. Sillage and durability are remarkable. This in turn speaks for him as a night out and less as an office fragrance. But yes, this is a Montale that gets a big like from me

I like the smell of lavender. I like Tom Ford. And I appreciate the sophisticated elegance of many of his fragrances. The anticipation was great to finally have the time to test Lavender Extreme extensively. Unfortunately, my expectations were quite undercut here.

The prelude is a beautiful, fresh, intense lavender, which at first does justice to its name Extreme. Soon the lavender unfortunately sinks into a gigantic trough of clay cream. I had a picture in mind, as you know it from yoghurt advertisements or from these care creams: In close-up you see an animated drop of liquid slowly falling into a container full of creamy substance, sinking into it very smoothly, and in the end everything is stirred again nice and slowly.

It smells something like that now. Unfortunately, nothing is extreme here anymore - at least not the lavender. It is still perceptible, but is now completely outshined by the extraordinary sweetness of Tonka. I have nothing against tonka, I also have nothing against creamy fragrances. But here I seriously ask myself what the whole thing is about. Sweet, creamy, lavender. That's it. That's too sweet one-dimensional for me.

Conclusion: Unfortunately, it has little to none of the subtle sex appeal inherent in the DNA of other Tom Fords. It has quite a good durability, but a not so remarkable sillage. And all this at a standard price of 276 Euro - for 50 ml, mind you.

So no, it doesn't do justice to Tom Ford, it doesn't do justice to the price. For ending up smelling like you've been treated with a pretty sweet tonka lavender lotion. Undoubtedly the most expensive you can get on the market.

Opinions are often divided when something that comes from the fine arts excites the masses too much. Then can, then something must be wrong. Because art, that's what we like to say, must not be too pleasing. It needs disturbers, things that offend. It needs idealism, it needs an attitude and therefore it needs separation. That rules out, so to speak, that a commercially immensely successful mass phenomenon has the chance to be appreciated as something extraordinary at the same time. If everyone thinks this is good, then there must be something rotten in the state of Denmark. Then I cannot admit to something like that. Then I am no longer independent. That's probably a dilemma

So I dare to make a rather unusual comparison here: with Layton, the olfactory crowdpleaser par excellence from Marly - and the British rock group Coldplay. Let me say it right away, I practically don't perceive chart music at all anymore, I'm not interested in it, it leaves me mostly emotionally cold and that for quite some time. My musical taste is quite broad, but I love the alternative genres around Indie Rock and Indie Pop and other alternative forms of music most of all. I also love singer-songwriter music, classical music and jazz. Basically anything that makes me dream or touches me emotionally because it puts me in a good mood. But mostly because it is deep, different, special and reaches me somewhere. As a rule, this is music that is created with idealism and not primarily aimed at sales figures. But not only.

The group Coldplay, who played themselves up in small clubs and halls with their always somewhat melancholic impact around the voice of frontman Chris Martin, quickly developed out of their niche and, at the latest with the song "Clocks", into an extremely mass-suited and successful band with several chart hits. Successful, too, and especially because their musical repertoire is characterized by catchy, memorable riffs and lyrics, which is often called stadium rock. And - that's the real problem now - it has cost them a lot of respect among connoisseurs and connoisseurs. Yes, apart from their own fans, Coldplay is met with snobbery because of that. Which I can understand. But they are also a lot of fun

And here I come to Layton (so if you've made it this far - chapeau and I'm honored). Because with Layton it is similar. He is something like captured stadium rock. These are good mood vibes, this is grunting and good mood. And yes, it's a lot of show and effect for the crowd.

Already when spraying on, the moment Layton comes on stage, the crowd cheers. Very concisely the apple swings its chords. Sweet, spicy and warm on one side. But especially at the beginning a bit more sour and with a certain spice freshness. The crowd claps and sings - and Layton plays and plays. It gets sweeter as it goes on, there are flowery chords and finally it's the vanilla beats that heat up the crowd. They warm the mood further, warm the skin. And the audience calls Da capo and Layton blows him one by one. He's been playing for nine hours now - or so. Slowly the crowd's strength is fading. But Layton still can. After more than 14 hours the throats have sung themselves hoarse. Slowly the digital pyroshow on stage goes off and it gets dark in the stadium. Micdrop.

No, Layton is not a fragrance like a jazz concert. Where you sip your wine while you listen to a bass or sax solo with your eyes closed. He's stadium rock. Loud and a bit on the surface. Melodic sometimes as simple as a nursery rhyme, but that's what makes it so incredibly fun, even when we're grown up. Layton is great, incredibly well done stadium rock. And he burns a decent show, you get something for your money: Sillage and durability are really top.

Is Layton corrupted by this? Is that why Layton's boring? Is that why Layton is uninspired? It's a question of personal taste, but not only that. I think it's snobbish to dismiss Layton as a crowd pleaser who lacks independence. Yes, he has that extreme success gene. But there's definitely something unique about the DNA of this scent that I don't know about. And it lasts a long time.

Conclusion: I think it's rightfully at the top of the perfume charts for such a long time and so far. A likeable pop star who has a lot to live for. One who has the hearts of the audience flying towards him. One that you can actually have on your playlist all year round. Yeah, he's mainstream, but he's damn good mainstream.


PS: If you would ask me about my favourite bands, you would get the answer: Joy Division, The Cure, Timber Timbre. I like it a little bit darker, but I also enjoy stadium rock a lot.

Granted. The history of mankind as we know it would look completely different without ink. And quite a few man-made masterpieces were created with their help. Let us think of the young Shakespeare, as he will have written Romeo and Juliet around 1595. Let us think of the young Goethe, as he wrote The Sorrows of Young Werther, and thus one of the most successful novels in the history of literature. Let us think of the many, many centuries of history, literature, but also correspondence of daily life, which would not have been possible without ink. Ink has always been an important means of putting words, thoughts, visions, revolutions, but also bare figures, deeds, paragraphs, death sentences and the like on paper. And even in our present time it reaches in, still accompanies us in the form of inkjet printers and is more present than one would like to believe. Yes, ink was and is important. But it has never been really pleasant.

As early as the 14th century, the saying "to be in the ink" became common. Which means as much as being in a real fix or having suffered a lot. Or also: to have pulled the zonk or the ass card. To anyone whose heart beats as hard for language and literature as mine does, I can only recommend the beautiful dictionary of proverbial sayings by Lutz Röhrich, where you can find all kinds of treasures, all etymologically partly very amusingly documented. Röhrich writes about the saying: Ink as a dark, dirty liquid stands (...) parallel with the equivalent words "broth", "paw", "sauce" etc.

In short, the connotations of ink are not necessarily the most beautiful. I also associate ink primarily with Parkinson's and Montblanc pens that were given to me on birthdays and that are kept in my pencil case or rucksack forever. Although not that stylish, it was much cooler and had a decisive advantage: I was able to write much faster.

BUT - all the same, I opened, it was in 2010, a jar of ink labeled Encre Noire. And I got - of course - immediately into it. An intense, deep dark violet mist suddenly appeared, which smelled of all the decaying darkness of the earth. It was as if armies of orcs had risen from the earth. And yet, despite this threat, I was left to observe..: A scent like ink was struck here.

A further development, apart from the vetiverpenetrance, unfortunately did not take place. Whether with or without associations, which put me back to school, I unfortunately had to register that I got quite a headache. A few days later I gave the ink a second chance, but again: Vetiver hammer = headache.

Otherwise, the chosen name of the fragrance, its flacon and, last but not least, its contents form a coherent marketing concept. One that is available at an attractive price for niche markets. If you enjoy this vetiver trip, then you can be sure that you will have a great time. To all others, I wish that they may find a way out of the ink. Maybe the good old blotting paper will help?

May Amy Winehouse forgive me from the heavenly spheres for making her great song the headline of my disdainful commentary. But I'm a friend of getting things to the point and a lot of concise truth is in this, her line

Initio's "Rehab" is getting pretty hyped on the net. There's nothing wrong with hype and I think that the "Oud for Greatness", also from Initio, is a really great scent. Also the list of ingredients of "Rehab" sounded promising, so the conditions were good and I would have liked to join the crowd, but unfortunately I have to say: no. Or rather no, no, no.

Initio reminds me of former neighbours. More precisely, their dog. They had one of those little yappies that bark at everything in the world: passing buses, cyclists, pedestrians, street lamps, the sun, the moon, the sky, fine dust. My quite animal-loving character traits were put to the test - by this eternal, loud, penetrating, never-ending barking. And so it is with Rehab:

It opens loudly, similarly sweetly spiced cracking like Spicebomb Extreme. Then it becomes much softer and creamier, but still has a restlessness on my skin. It doesn't run, it somehow throbs all the time. And because the one on the bottle actually smells very tasty, I gave myself this drydown on my skin three times. The third time, when it was really hot, was the one I was most comfortable with. Then a bit of a memory of the fine pipe tobacco of Tom Ford's "Tobacco Vanilla" came up ...

But at the end of the day, Initio has something pungently annoying to me. I would describe it as a synthetic sweetness. And that yappy-sweet chord of scent gives me a headache over time. Certainly also due to two extremely positive characteristics of Rehab: The sillage is very strong, the shelf life is quite good. It's a pity, but there are things that don't go well together

I stood firm with that little yapper. Rehab had to come up with a radilac solution: Get out of the apartment with you, Bello.