Annenas

This scent confuses me deeply. So let's first do what I always do when I'm confused: break down, clean up, analyze. This begins first with the scent pyramid, I take only a fraction of the listed notes really perceive, that looks then approximately so:

Head: Galbanum, Neroli
Heart: iris, violet, narcissus
Base: oakmoss, tonka, cedar

Looks a lot clearer right away, doesn't it? For me, this fragrance also works exactly as my reduced pyramid suggests: Balsamic-sweet opening spiced with a slight nerolischäfe, which drifts relatively quickly into a powdery floral mixture, but always remains slightly dark and resinous. In the drydown, it gets heavier, sweeter and rounder for me, tonka and oakmoss building a soft base for a very tiny bit of cedar bite.

So, putting that out there very simply, but it wouldn't be a review if I didn't actually rate it. Unlike the majority of the previous discussion posts, I'm female (identify as such) and wear the fragrance myself, which is by no means made easy here. Every other comment starts with "classic masculine" womanizer" "sexy, dapper man" and so on. Understandable, since this fragrance does have a DNA that we have long, long associated with classic men's colognes. But Grey Flannel is almost half a century old now, so maybe it's time to rethink it.

It smells familiar, I'm also almost certain someone in my circle (50+) wears it regularly, but still, there's something refreshingly timeless and exciting about it, as evidenced by the lively discussion here alone. It's definitely a fragrance that's a matter of taste, with a very classic build and a depth and sillage that you have to go for.

Not easy, does one it nevertheless one is rewarded with a fragrance composition that meanders through a wonderfully balsamic forest, throws itself head over heels into a sea of flowers and then beds down on sunlit oak moss. To be honest, it doesn't sound particularly masculine or feminine to me - It just sounds great. If you want to smell like he or she has a sense of style, you'd like to be outside, but also kind of lost in thought in a corner at a jazz club, Grey Flannel. And let's face it, at the price you also have nothing to lose, so girls, ladies and Co: dare you.

Grey Flannel may be a piece of history that each:r can evaluate as desired. But it is undeniable that this fragrance will definitely still have a future. (At least in my fragrance wardrobe)

Aqua Millefolia opens wonderfully citrusy and fresh. The mint gives the verbena(vervain) a slight kick and something that almost feels clean/clinical to me. Not synthetic at all but a freshly cleaned scent. I'm sure that sounds off-putting to some now, but it's more pleasant than the toilet association might suggest.
Who likes to walk in the botanical garden, in the greenhouse with the citrus plants is right here. Damp freshness, light Nerolinoten, which can also come through the Gujakholz umwabern the citrus smell and make it minimally deeper and sweeter. Yet the freshness remains throughout, the mint is more noticeable to me now. The scent is strongly reminiscent of a well-maintained greenhouse, with flashing windows, everything thriving and a busy gardener scurrying about the paths. After about three hours, only spicy gujak wood with a slight citrus note is perceptible and leaves a beautiful, woody-fresh aura.

The bottle is well made, is heavy in the hand and the color of the fragrance is simply the madness, this intense green glows almost absinthe colors. For me, this fragrance is a beautifully straight citrus cologne with clear Jean-Claude Ellena signature. If you like the Hermes Jardin range of fragrances, you'll definitely be happy here too. The short longevity doesn't really bother me, but it's not bad at all for a citrusy, fresh scent. Throughout close to the skin Aqua Millefolia is clearly intended as a small private pleasure, just like a walk, admiring the pretty plants, soaking up the smells and then stepping back into everyday life

Papyrus is to be understood literally here, with all associations to Egyptian paper production, hieroglyphics, desert sand and mysterious burial chamber. PM opens slightly musty, moist and with unmistakable papyrus note. Lightly spiced by pepper and coriander, the scent settles almost oily on the skin and stays right there: skin deep. Sillage is hardly present, but that actually does not bother, because who likes to have this smell on him, will be perfectly happy to have it for himself.
I perceive it as damp, slightly musty papyrus, earthy and yet still with powdery, dusty undertones somewhere. We are not in a light, bright library here, even smelling of musk and print blackness. Oh no, we are standing in the middle of an Egyptian burial chamber. The dampness rolls off the stones of the walls, a dry desert sandalwood wind blows from outside, a clump of coriander grows somewhere in the corner. Grave goods are ancient papyri and peppercorns. Tobacco and leather give depth, while the tonka bean adds a slightly sweetish-modish contrast.
In the drydown, the mustiness fades a little, the scent becomes drier and clearer, more sand(elwood) and a little less spice. And then, all of a sudden, it's over. We step out of the burial chamber into the light and somehow the whole smell is just gone. Maybe a hint of sand, a slight scratch in the throat and Papyrus Moléculaire has evaporated like a memory of a long-gone culture.

Who would have thought that I have something positive to say about an iris fragrance? Maison Crivelli surprises again with this green-tart but gourmand-vanilla iris masterpiece.
I applied this fragrance in the evening, rain outside, almost cold but not. In the opening iris (iris butter), but not powdery/dusty, but green, damp, earthy and slightly tart. Galbanum sends its regards.
In the drydown begins after several hours an evolution from tart-green and moist to dark grourmand vanilla. Always with slightly resinous notes and a certain cuddle factor. The next morning remains a hint of vanilla and the memory of iris

Let it breathe. You have to let this scent breathe.
Hardly out of the package (very pretty with wonderful feel packaged, although somewhat dented survived the post) knocks me the alcohol sheer. Hui, the blind purchase is yes times really gone wrong, I think and already consider to wash down the fragrance again.
The bottle stands next to me, simple, pretty, hand-flattering shaped and surprisingly well processed for the price range.
Then, after a few minutes something finally starts, something I did not expect. Fruity notes, or even orange I can not perceive, but from the beginning amber. Amber in every conceivable facet. First something spicy, sharp by the pepper, then increasingly woody.
This fragrance makes a fantastic course through, where initially only alcohol and chaos are perceptible now lays creamy a mixture of fig, greenish, soft and woods over the skin, which comes across very melancholic, almost something "old-fashioned".
Not old-fashioned in the sense of stale, but still somehow from another time. A time when men's perfumes smelled like amber and this note has burned itself into me as an unmistakably masculine style. Now I'm reclaiming it for myself. Amber and fig together definitely come across as unisex, if not slightly masculine, but always exciting, always slightly peppery and deep. The fig gives minimal fruity notes until the end. Patchouli peeks by every now and then, reminiscent of wet-soaked earth. To me, there's something incredibly melancholic about this scent. Like the first days of autumn, when it's still warm but stormy, the sun comes out every now and then and it smells fresh and earthy throughout. Longevity and sillage amazed me, which I'm sure is due to the abroxan (the star from Molecule 02). This also makes it evolve a bit differently on each skin and remains perceptible to others when we've already stopped smelling it. Interesting