Carpintero

- or: hindsight is always smarter.

These words actually hit the nail on the head.
While the release was widely announced and felt like it was constantly in the PdM newsletter, hyped on all perfume channels on YouTube and the fragrance itself was even in the top 100, then in the top 50 and at times even in the top 30 on Parfumo within just a few days, there were only a few critical voices about the fragrance.

Nevertheless, there were critics who couldn't find anything great or special about the fragrance.
But I didn't want to listen to them. Unteachable.

So: fragrance ordered [only available on the PdM website at the time], nice leather case (whatever you need it for) and leather bag (same question - always happy to answer me) and on top a 10 ml sample of another PdM fragrance. 250 euros incl. mind - will be fine, I thought.

After shipping took twice the estimated time, the package came as an "Economy Select" instead of an "Express" package and there was no response from PdM despite several requests, a first bitter aftertaste emerged, which unfortunately was to persist.

The contents of the slightly demolished and, thanks to the temperatures, extremely hot package were immediately inspected and tested. And the disappointment was great.

This is supposed to be it? The release of the year? The "best PdM of all time"? - Yes, hindsight is always wiser.

The fragrance is ok, a solid 7 out of 10, yes. But it doesn't reinvent the wheel, it's certainly not the best PdM of all time and it's definitely not a new Layton.
I am convinced that the fragrance has not necessarily earned its right to exist on the already saturated market, which is why it is being pushed all the more vehemently in terms of marketing. Not a bad thing.

Initially, you particularly notice the "vanilla overkill", which is actually not bad. But it is loud, very, very loud. The citrusy notes of bergamot and orange blossom are also clearly present and - in my opinion - bring a certain restlessness into play.

Other users reported associations with SWY, Armani Code or Layton. Yes, yes and yes.
But does that infer creativity? I do not know.

For me, the fragrance doesn't jump back and forth much from the vanilla opening to the warm drydown. It is straightforward, straightforward and therefore somewhat unspectacular and boring. Vanilla, citrus notes, cinnamon, woods and resins remain prominent and equally distributed throughout the fragrance. Praline is also present, but ambrox hardly at all.

The fragrance does not have a "monster sillage" either, although the longevity is pretty solid with an 8 out of 10.

However, anyone really expecting the new Layton, the better Pegasus or even the creativity of Herod is likely to be disappointed.
I don't know what exactly I was expecting, but the fragrance as a whole only convinces me to a limited extent.

Yes, it's not bad. Yes, it is certainly not out of place in fall and winter. And the longevity is also in the upper range.
But what I miss is the twist, the surprise, the special or the unexpected.
The fragrance simply doesn't live up to the hype, rippling along without having any major corners or edges.

Perhaps an Exclusif version will be released - with slightly deeper woods, more ambrox and additional oud. That, at least I could imagine, would make the fragrance a lot more interesting.

But that is a dream of the future.

For the status quo, judged as a whole: You're always smarter with hindsight.

Yes: Above attributes describe the Fougere d'Argent in an almost perfect way.
The following is a detailed declaration of my love to a newly discovered flame.

Initially, I had this fragrance absolutely not at all on the screen, however, I had still found a voucher from a Swiss perfumery, which would soon expire, so I came into the happy situation and of necessity "had" to buy another fragrance. Another back-up bottle of another fragrance I did not want, so I briefly read through a few reviews of Fougere d'Argent, which at that time just happened to be in action (Dt.: offer) and then struck at an unbeatable price.

My expectations? None. Beau de Jour with Spearmint note. Or something like that.

When I finally held the fragrance in my hands, came the big test and the even greater amazement:

OPENING: Flawless.
Tangerine, ginger, lavender. But such a perfect match that I floated in the 7th fragrance heaven. The individual notes would actually be too "punchy" and too aggressive for me, but in the Fougere d'Argent these notes balance each other out in a beautiful, harmonious way, never try to drown each other out, but give each other an insanely elegant and neat character.
Also, at this point I already perceive a distinct spearmint note, which actually reminds me of an American chewing gum, however, this spearmint note only underlines the manderine, the ginger and the lavender and does not drown them out at any time.

Between OPENING and HEART then happens something that I would describe as perfection:
Imagine a picnic on a mowed flower meadow - around you nothing but pure alpine air, the air is hot and dry and you perceive all the herbs and the mown hay on this meadow. Dryness, flowery, soothing herbs and a hint of mint. The lavender still clearly present, the tangerine already withdrawn and the ginger only perceptible in the distant distance. Delightful.

In the HEART then the twist: cutting.
To the above-mentioned fragrance notes joins after about two hours a note that I suspected somewhere to know. I first thought of Sauvage, but that would be too trivial. No, not Sauvage. But something is there, which makes me love the fragrance even more at this point.
Again and again, a quite delightful note pushes through here. I can't help myself: I love you. It's all warm woods, perfectly matched, never too aggressive or uncouth, but classic, classy and accompanied by the flowering lavender and cistus. Cutting. Cutting. Like the tailor-made Tom Ford suit for a gentleman with perfectly styled hair and an even more perfect three-day beard.

A true gentleman, a rock in a tailored suit. Never loud, never aggressive, never too overpowering and certainly not a screamer. But an alpha male, as he stands in the book.
Fougere d'Argent is a statement of elegance, of style and of aplomb.

The base: provocative.
In the BASIS, the fragrance remains beautifully linear, the dry herbal hay regains dominance, joined by woody notes and a delightful twist of cuddly lavender and fresh cistus.
Quite remotely, one could recognize parallels to the discontinued Beau de Jour from the Private Blend line, but this requires a lot of imagination.
Both last about the same length and both drive this beautiful barbershop program, which Tom Ford provides through these fragrances with a modern and contemporary twist and thus again makes it a wearable trend for real gentlemen. However, they differ immensely in terms of sillage: the Beau de Jour is clearly more present, also a bit louder and perhaps also one to two stages stronger in terms of the scent tail.
The Fougere d'Argent is quieter, less loud and after a shorter time already much closer to the skin, which makes it in my eyes the absolute favorite for the date and also in the office: at a distance you feel only a hint of this beautiful fragrance, however, this seducer knows how to make the audience want to come closer to you. And once below the 50 cm mark, it draws everyone under its spell. And thus he has exactly what so many other fragrances fail at: he is provocative without having to push himself to the fore, a charmer who does not shout, no, who does not even say anything. But convinces with a sovereignty, his elegance and his charisma. He enters the room and everyone turns to look at him. But not because of his shouting. But simply because of his aura and his presence. At the same time, he is provocative, radiates attraction and dominance - and that without even having to say a word.

Am I in love? - Yes.
Can I classify why this fragrance is also set according to some English-speaking forums? - No, not even close.
Any last words? - I love you, baby.

Sincerely,
Your Carpintero.

It was rainy today, Sunday. At least here with us. It was cool and expansive when my partner aired the apartment after lunch. I'd already retired to bed, the same place I'd spent all of last week - with a high fever, aching limbs and bones. Completely well it was not yet, no, but on the mend, that's where I am.

Where was I...?
Ah well, rainy, cold and expansive Sunday.
Perfect for wearing a very special scent even in a sick bed, Tom Ford's Black Orchid.

My relationship to this fragrance is at least as divided as my attitude to today's weather - or my relationship to Bogotá.

Bogotá, Colombia's capital with a population of 7.18 million, is located at an altitude of over 2600 meters above sea level. And this has the consequence that it is always cool, mostly cloudy and often very rainy and windy there.

Bogotá, with emphasis on the á and not the first o. Bogotá, hate and love, joy and sorrow, happiness and unhappiness for me perfectly combined in a single city. Just like Black Orchid by Tom Ford.

Black Orchid starts out harsh, expansive, overwhelming, and unconventional for me. Like Bogotá, with its harsh climate, the expansive continuous rain, the overwhelming impressions when you first drive along the Séptima, Bogotá's 5th Avenue, and unconventional, like when you are served instant coffee in Bogotá, where Colombia is known for its excellent coffee cultivation.

Harsh and expansive because of the alcoholic note at the opening of the fragrance, which penetrates almost every crack of the room wall, paired with the black truffle, which comes across so overwhelming and unconventional. This is already joined at this point by lush ylang-ylang and slightly citrusy notes that remind me of the sumptuous desserts at Bogotá's top restaurants, followed by the slight citrusiness that you detect in coffee, the "tinto" as they tend to call it in Colombia.

At its heart, it remains lush, followed by high decadence and heaviness. As lush as Colombia's ubiquitous arequipe, a high-calorie caramel cream made with milk, cream and sugar. As decadent as Bogotá's luxurious malls, where this cream is sold at horrendous prices. A small keg for the price of an average monthly income. Runs. As hard as the lives of the workers, who have to earn their wages in a brutal way with exhausting and risky jobs.
There is melancholy, inertia and yet the inclination and desire to live luxuriously, the urge to get something from the arequipe cake with whipped cream and icing.
It gets easier when you leave the mall and get some of the floral notes in the city's perpetual spring, "la primavera entera". For despite the city's 2600-meter altitude and constant rain, Bogotá has a remarkable flora on display, due in no small part to the fact that Colombia is so outrageously close to the equator. Flowers of all colors and sizes, sweet and gorgeous, glorious and light as heaven.

To this, one may perceive woody notes in the heart of the fragrance just as in the heart of Bogotá. There is a whole neighborhood in Bogotá where carpentry follows carpentry. I detect this woody scent very subtly in Black Orchid as well. However, we do not stay in this neighborhood, but move on.

Meanwhile, it has become night and in the Zona T, the entertainment mile of Bogotá, we come to the base and the starting point of our imaginary tour of Colombia's capital. Here, hip bartenders mix us opulent drinks with vanilla and tonka bean. Bogotá's upper-class gentlemen wear patchouli and other woody aftershaves, while their ladies prefer balsamic and incense-heavy fine perfumes.
The night is still young and the party goes on into the wee hours. At Andrés, where you can drop as much cash in one night as an average-wage family man earns in three months. It's where you meet Colombia's high society. There, where I hate and love the city the most.

Black Orchid is the scent of Bogotá for me.

I love Bogotá, the place where I lived, grew up, became big. Bogotá is home to me, my mama's adopted home, the place that gives me goosebumps every evening when I see the sun, which shows itself around late afternoon, slowly setting over the city, back there, by the Andes. Bogotá is the feeling of attraction for me, the attraction towards the golden city, "El Dorado", as Bogotá's international airport is rightfully called.
That's what Black Orchid is for me, too. A piece of home, goosebumps, attraction, gold.

But I hate Bogotá, the place where I watched the gap between rich and poor widen. Bogotá is for me decadence, which seems to me almost unbearable, when I see how the upper class first dines in the Andrés and then celebrates and money seems to play no role - and the family doctor of my mom earns as much as others spend there in an evening. Bogotá is expansive to me when I imagine the neighborhood where I lived being guarded by security and our house fenced in with barbed wire. Expansive - and off-putting. Bogotá is harsh for me because of the weather, the terrible traffic, the constant congestion, and the disfuctional public transportation.
Black Orchid is that for me, too. Decadence in a bottle, sheer unbearable at times, expansive and harsh.

And yet I love Bogotá, the place that triggers longing in me when I can't be there. The place that moves me to tears every time the plane accelerates and takes off, and the lights and streets of Bogotá grow smaller and more insignificant below me. The place that causes melancholy in me because I miss Colombia and my mama there so much. And the place that causes feelings of happiness and serenity in me when I get off the plane in El Dorado and hear "Bienvenidos al aeropuerto internacional de El Dorado de Bogotá" over the announcements in the airport.
That's Black Orchid for me, too. Longing, emotion, melancholy, happiness and serenity.

And every single time I land in Bogotá, my mom is waiting there, takes me in her arms and I hold her, even at 33 years old. Then she says "Bienvenido a casa, welcome home" and I feel complete contentment and security.
And that's what Black Orchid is to me, too. Like a loving hug, the feeling of contentment and security.

Only one thing Black Orchid will never be.
A replacement for my endless love-hate relationship with Bogotá

With never-ending patience, the lady from the sat nav regularly tells me that I have missed the exit - and this is followed by the polite instruction that I should please turn around at the next opportunity. But the always friendly voice has no idea that I might be driving around a traffic jam.
In the process, I often drive past places that I would never have seen from the highway: great, idyllic villages, first-class village pubs with hearty food and remote lakes that invite you to relax.

That must have been how it went with Dunhill's Icon Absolute.
Because the driver here seems to have a clear destination in mind: Oud Wood. In this direction it should go, that can be guessed from the opening.

After the ignition key (flakondeckel) was turned and the engine was started, drones one first of all once a huge load of strong-I-know-not in the nose. Horrible! As if you had pressed your mouth and nose very hard on the exhaust, just to get the full load of exhaust fumes. This, however, only as a comparison - IT SMELLS NOT AFTER EXHAUST.
But it smells harsh at first. Very stern. Once the first 30 seconds are over, you get an inkling of where it's going: Oud Wood.
The heart note of the Oud Wood is the top note the Icon Absolute.
"Follow the road for a very long time," says the lady in the Navi. And I have Oud Wood as a destination already in mind.

But after half an hour on the straight highway in the direction of Oud Wood, the traffic jam warning rings around my ears. Oh, I'd just been listening so nicely to the modern remixes of old 80s music on my Spotify playlist - it really wouldn't have needed the traffic jam now, after all. My Navi says nothing about it.

So I take the exit in the direction of "forest". While I drive already some minutes on the deserted country road in the direction of forest, suddenly also the lady from the Navi announces itself to word "If possible please turn!". Monotonously she repeats this instruction again and again. As long as, until it becomes too stupid to me and I terminate the guidance.
The road is idyllic, empty and winding. I let down the windows, because the smell of the LED SEATS of my new car cause headaches at times. Wonderful country air - no, not a cow barn or a pigsty, but freshly mown GRASS, alpine HERBS and far away the FOREST. Also the destination Oud Wood smell again and again.

Finally arriving in the forest, I am horrified to find that it has been cut down and a tree trunk lying across it makes it impossible for me to continue on the now single track gravel road.
"Please turn around" I sarcastically curse to myself. Thank God my girlfriend is not with me. The has conspired namely with the lady from the Navi against me. So I believe at least. Every now and then I accuse her of cereal terror, too, especially when they try to replace my oh-so-loved Weisswurst breakfast with healthy bowls. "Remember the cholesterol" - it sounds almost in the same monotone voice from the bathroom every morning.

So I turn. True, it smells intense, woody and beautiful. But Oud Wood was my destination after all. That's where I was going, right?
So I drive back the road, get lost in the next roundabout and suddenly discover a sign: "Oud". I wonder if that's where Oud Wood is headed

I follow the sign. The windows closed accompanies me the intense smell of freshly chopped wood and the leather seats of my new car, accompanied by a little saffron and spices.

Finally, the town sign: OUD.
Yes, and you can smell it. Intense, very intense.
Still the woods, the leather and the saffron is perceptible, but Oud now plays the leading role. So authentic and captivating. As if I were in a mall in Dubai or Abu Dhabi. You seem to be able to literally smell the wealth of the village.

"Sorry, which way is Oud Wood?", I ask an elegant gentleman on the side of the road.
"Don't you like it in Oud?" he replies to my question.
"Yes, I do, but I do have to go to Oud Wood..." I reply to him with a sheepish smile.
"Do you have to?" he asks me provocatively.
"Nah, I don't have to" I reply firmly.

It doesn't always have to be the pompous Oud Wood. Sometimes a down-to-earth oud is enough - especially if you have the right companion with you

Dear Oud Minérale fans:

During my last stay in NYC, I finally had the opportunity to buy the Oud Minérale from the Resort Collection - a tester was unfortunately not available (anymore), so I bought three bottles (two 30 ml, one 50 ml) blind.

Why equal to three - Because the fragrance from the Resort Collection against all my expectations has not yet been re-released in Europe and I do not know how long it will take and at this moment was also still unclear if and when I come back to the States in the near future.

Whether the investment was worth it and whether and what differences there are between the Private Blend line and the Resort Collection, I would like to share with you based on my experience and with a subjective assessment:


FLAKON

Private Blend
There was (was unfortunately discontinued and is only very occasionally in selected perfumeries to get) in 50, 100 and 250 ml. Flacons were the Oud series from the Private Blend line according to gray tinted, transparent glass with a plastic cap on top, which was provided with a mirror with the inscription TOM FORD.

Resort Collection
Comes in 30 ml and 50 ml. Flacons are the Resort Collection according to frosted frosted glass, the Oud Minérale is gray. The lid is also frosted gray and made of plastic, this is also provided with a mirror on top with the inscription TOM FORD.


UPDATE

Private Blend
The opener starts off harsh, unconventional and expansive:
We're in Halifax, right on the Atlantic coast. It's a blustery, grey day.
A spritz or two of the scent and we find ourselves on a wooden jetty, just outside the aforementioned small town. The rugged Atlantic coastline before our eyes, the rugged wind blowing sea salt and seaweed smelling air around our ears, we look out at the roaring sea and grey sky. The waves so gigantically high that you can not see the horizon.
At the jetty is a modern speed boat, which is just being repaired, however. One smells quite strongly and clearly the engine oil and the fuel, with which the boat is to run later.

Resort Collection
Here we are in the Hamptons: In contrast to the Private Blend line, the opening in the Resort Collection is less dark and punchy, but a little fresher, woodier and far more likeable: here, too, you are on the North Atlantic, but the sea around the Hamptons is now calm, shallow and there is much more driftwood on the beach. This wood, however, is soft-surfaced by the endless waves of the ocean, is smooth, and the smell of motor oil and fuel is absent for the time being.



HEARTNOTE

Private Blend
We are now on the aforementioned boat, heading out to sea. The sea has calmed down in the meantime and the waves are fortunately no longer as high as a house, but it still rocks violently and again and again the rough spray whips around our ears. You can smell the salty water of the sea quite clearly and also the algae do not hold back. I don't hear the engine oil so much, but I do hear the fuel with which the boat thunders over the waves and its exhaust fumes, which alternate with the smell of the sea around my nose. There is a lot of rough driftwood in the boat, quite impetuous and rough, soaked with sea water and here and there a dried alga is still hanging. The driftwood in the boat smells strongly of the sea: of salt, of fish, of shellfish, of algae and also a little of rot. But the combination of all the scents also makes it somehow irresistible not to reach for it. Yes, it smells like freedom. Of adventure. After mysticism and after the endless expanses of the rough Atlantic.

Resort Collection
Here, too, we take a boat trip out to sea, only the sea is as smooth as an eel, not a single wave in sight. Also the sky is bright blue and not, as assumed in the above scenario, gray and foggy. It doesn't rock, it doesn't wobble, and you indulge in a sip of champagne - whose creamy alcoholic notes are quite perceptible in the heart note of the fragrance, though not as the main character. This is also here the salty sea air. Seaweed, motor oil and fuel are present, but less loud and much more scaled back than in the Private Blend. In return, the woody notes of the finely ground driftwood are stronger. Only this wood is already completely dried out, was probably even already processed, with sandpaper and sealing varnish: one smells the wood clearly stronger, it is creamier and softer, rounds off the fragrance wonderfully and gives it a business-suitable character for the office.



BASE NOTE

Private Blend
Back on safe land with solid ground under our feet, we settle in on the sofa after a hot shower and a nice warming drink and survey the driftwood. Again and again the above mentioned notes rise and the longing grows to go out again first thing tomorrow. But that's not possible... tomorrow it's back to the city, back to the conference room where hard-hitting negotiations take place. The scent as my signature and my constant companion.

Resort Collection
In the base note, the fragrances are hardly distinguishable, with the difference that the fragrance from the Private Blend line a little "louder" and despite all the coziness still has corners and edges, which in the Resort Collection much more polished and rounded - and thus also much more suitable for everyday use and office compatible - come across. The fragrance from the Resort Collection is here significantly smoother, flirts more with the counterpart and is also ready to compromise.


F A Z I T
Both fragrances have the same DNA, but differ in intensity and sillage: here the Private Blend is clearly louder, stronger in the foreground and far more radiant and also becomes less quickly skin, but it is also rougher and sometimes more expansive and angular. The Resort Collection, on the other hand, is smoother, finer, creamier and for this also somewhat quieter in intensity and sillage: In the first two to three hours also clearly present, then skin close.
In the durability, however, they are absolutely not inferior to each other: Both create it with me on a hot summer day in New York (31 degrees) on 8 hours and on a moderate day in Zurich (19 degrees) on 12 hours. On clothes, both last until the next wash, although the scent from the Private Blend line is much more noticeable. Do you have to buy three bottles of the Resort Collection? No, definitely not.
Would I prefer the Resort Collection to the Private Blend line? Also a very clear no.
Am I happy to still own a half-full 100 ml and a full 250 ml bottle from the Private Blend? Yes, absolutely.

And would I buy the fragrance from the Resort Collection again if I ran out of bottles from the Private Blend line? Yes - but probably before: I wear the Private Blend privately, on a date or even when it comes to business negotiations, where I have to show presence and strength. I prefer the Resort Collection on the quieter, more comfortable days when I'm preparing for the tough negotiations