Bayadere

When Cabotine came out in 1990, a year after the fall of communism, the influences of the wild, punky end-70s and the pop culture of the 80s were already fading, but there was still that rock-provocative vibe in the zeitgeist and a lot of subculture spirit. Along with Hollywood blockbusters, there were wild, surreal films by David Lynch and later Terry Gilliam et al, grunge and alternative rock were announcing themselves, and techno culture was in the wings. The Beastie Boys returned to their punk roots after a decade in hip-hop. The thirst for life, for freedom and for intellectual exchange was overflowing for young, adventurous people like me. Everything on the move, everything previously valid questioned. A good opportunity to experiment with all kinds of things (men, music and other things I don't want to mention explicitly here).
I'm just wondering if Cabotine, with its troubled signature, was an expression of that zeitgeist, or if it (just) reflected my, own, chaotic life? Thirty years later, I know that the wild sides that each of us carries within us need to be acted out from time to time (in moderation, of course!). This attitude, despite many intervening years of life, has not changed for me:-)
And I still love this intense, fresh, green-floral scent with ginger and light sweetness, although I have to admit, it also has something scratchy about it. I find Cabotine quite idiosyncratic, but not at all stale. Sure, today the fragrance trend is different. But if you look around on the street today or on the pages of some fashion influencer, you can see a lot of things from that time again: the wide, cropped jeans, the tank tops, the Chucks and Doc Martens and the oversized parkas, and so on. Removed from the context in which they were once created, many things from that time still seem surprisingly fresh and youthful today. Cabotine has withstood the test of time very well in my opinion. It's youthfully idiosyncratic and suitable for anyone with a wildly beating heart inside.

For me, Dali is the epitome of a light oriental with elegant retro charm. Here, the sensuality of oriental spices meets the floral elegance of European-French character. Maybe not a great perfume masterpiece, but definitely solid perfumer's craft. It also speaks to the fact that it has been able to stay on the market for so long. For me, this is not a perfume to go out with. I find it too classic and not sexy-provocative enough for that. Rather, it exudes natural authority for me. Since it makes me feel very pulled together, I like to use it in business. Would there still be a salon culture as in the 19th century, I could imagine him but also as a night out fragrance.

I bought Dali online as a blindbuy a few years ago. However, I would not recommend this to anyone. The top notes are too sharp for that. Who gets along well with Chanel no. 5 (EDP) or with White Diamonds by Elizabeth Taylor, which will most likely have no problems with Dali. All others are advised to be patient when testing. Behind the sharp, soapy prelude hides a well wearable, soft melting heart base, which is indeed very strongly reminiscent of the 80s fragrances. Personally, the base reminds me, for example, very much of Marbert Woman, another member of the family of oriental Chypredüfte.

Hard to imagine that you can still find this kind of fragrances in the (analog) specialty store. Online, however, you can definitely still find Dali Woman. I wish that the Dali series would manage to find new, perhaps younger, followers. Other Dali fragrances like Dali 2011 or Laguna are not bad either. They are more modern and lighter and maybe not quite as "madame" as this one. It would be very unfortunate from my point of view, if these little darlings would disappear from the market, especially since they have a very good price-performance ratio.

The Omnias are nice and pleasing fellows. Scented delicately and odor-technically they do not really hurt anyone. So, the ideal office fragrances, so to speak;-)

But I think that doesn't quite do them justice. I know, some find them boring and maybe too similar among themselves. I own three Omnias and find for all three occasions to wear: Indian Garnet I like especially in high summer, Chrystalline has become my reading fragrance, which accompanies me through the classics of world literature and Amethyste is my special spring fragrance: to the doctor, shopping, sports....Amethyste always goes. Amethyste is my activity scent, so to speak. It always comes into play when I'm busy.
The only drawback is its delicacy and cuddliness. Who moves a lot outdoors, may rather reach for Lehmann's Lilac. There is more of everything: More lilac (respectively, the iris mentioned here, but actually smells like lilac), more green and more cream. Even in the fiercest spring storm, you perceive yourself, fragrance-wise!

Who now believes that Amethyste is the fragrance for down-to-earth women of today, is not wrong, but also not quite right. Many of the things mentioned are for me rather duty than freestyle and there I am certainly not the only one. Amethyste is able to make everyday things seem easy. When I wear it, I feel young (again), girlish, elated and elfish. Even the stupid tax return doesn't bother me anymore :-) I transform myself, so to speak, imaginarily into the Sugarplum Fairy (from Tchaikovsky's ballet The Nutcracker). The Sugarplum Fairy is the soloist role for young up-and-coming dancers, where they present their skills in front of a large audience for the first time. Step combinations that require a solid technique are presented in a wondrously light, soloistic manner. To a music that enchants even non-classical lovers. You don't have to be a ballet dancer to create this atmosphere. The right perfume can also make the difficulties and stumbling blocks on the stage of everyday life seem miraculously light. For me, this perfume is Amethyste!

In the 90's I had a liaison with a man who wore opium (for women) with preference. At that time not yet reformulated and a neat firecracker. Along with Shalimar and Cinnabar, one of the all-time great classic Orientals. I still remember how enraptured I was by the man and the scent! I actually still have a bottle of the unreformulated version of Opium as a reminder of those special times. I have also added Cinnabar and Obelisk over the years for everyday use. As everyone knows, Opium is a mere shadow of its former self. If someone were to ask me what fragrance could replace Opium, I would recommend Obelisk without hesitation. Not fragrance twins in the true sense, they are at least close relatives.

While Opium actually seems to consist only of base notes, Obelisk comes up with more distinct top notes. Only unfortunately, I may not really like it. Therefore, also no maximum rating from me. I feel the same as Eriele: Summer and winter, indoors and outdoors, tested during the day and in the evening, Obelisk always seems synthetic to me. My guess would be that the citrus and green notes (maybe galbanum too) in the top notes combined with the amber base notes create this scent impression, which is somewhere between resin, forest and orange and in the interplay doesn't seem natural but rather artificial. Nonetheless, this is a great oriental - if you can manage to block out that synthetic whiff. But if you miss the old Opium, you should at least give Obelisk a try. Obelisk does not have the erotic radiance that the original Opium possessed, but in wintry weather, it fulfills its purpose and envelops you gently warming.

Now I have to confess that while I like the classic Orientals a lot, I unfortunately don't like them on me. To my amusement, even my environment reacts irritated, with words and looks, when I reach for heavy, oriental fragrances. Somehow I obviously don't possess enough projection surface for these kinds of scent monuments. So I have now decided to weed out the classic orientals from my collection. The same goes for Obelisk. He finds a new home with a good friend and will hopefully be loved more there.

No fragrance for well-behaved, well-adjusted girls and nothing for young women who still practice flirting. No chérie and no Lolita! Dark, deep and extravagant, this fragrance belongs to the femmes fatales and the sirens among us. Released in 2006, Ange ou Démon falls for me into the category of modern women's fragrances like Alien, Crystal Noir, Jasmine Noir and Elle, all of which have little in common with the elegant floral scents of our mothers / grandmothers and which also convey a different image of women. With the above mentioned fragrances I imagine racy, non-conformist and also flamboyant women, as they were presented by the French cinema in the mid 70s to mid 80s: Fanny Ardant, Anne Parillaud, Béatrice Dalle...

I didn't get Ange ou Démon on special offer until 2015, and I have been flirting with him for a long time. And now? Ange ou Démon has been my constant companion for two winters. How come? I don't really like spicy notes! And these are not to be ignored here. Thyme and saffron are very perceptible and for some of you might spoil the scent. It bothered me at first too, but the scent is simply incredibly well blended. The notes of the pyramid are all perceptible and the core note around which everything is built is ylang-ylang. Fleetingly, lily and tangerine play into it. And the base is relatively unsweet despite the vanilla and tonka bean, which I would attribute to the combination of rosewood and oakmoss. Nevertheless the scent does not disintegrate. In its entirety it smells a bit like liquorice and has a multi-layered, dense character from beginning to end. Sprayed into the hair, I could still perceive the scent after two washes.

So now I put on my favourite jeans, put on the cashmere sweater and slip into my black suede stilettos and grab my leopard skin jacket. Off we go into the Berlin November night...My companion: Ange ou Démon;-)