Duftsucht

Inspired by Ttfortwo's wonderful commentary on the Tosca perfume, my last lunchtime fragrant fish train took me straight to a certain shelf - and right away I squatted down in the corner: there they were, the fragrances of my youth: Tosca and Nonchalance. I had received them as miniatures for my set-top box (for the younger ones for explanation: set-top box = indispensable dust catcher in almost every girl's room in the 70's and maybe even early 80's, equipped with various bits and pieces of mostly underground quality. Of course there was also the other variant: Lovingly maintained and equipped and regularly dusted - just not in my room... ) Then back to the fragrance: my godmother gave me a lovingly homemade Advent calendar made from matchboxes, filled with lots of wonderful miniature things. And as highlights on Advent Sundays there were fragrances: 4711, Tosca, Nonchalance (in exactly this order) - and on Christmas Eve as a "real" gift my first real perfume. Unfortunately, the bottle was damaged and leaked in the mail - so the perfume was poured into a beautiful atomizer and I'll probably never know the name of the fragrance back then. I remember that it was an unsweet, really elegant scent. And if my memory doesn't deceive me, definitely something I could still enjoy today.
Tosca and Nonchalance landed on my arms without even sniffing the bottle or taking a strip of paper. And already in the first hundredth of a second of spraying I feel catapulted back in time. I am back in my parents' apartment, it is pre-Christmas time. My sisters and I are all sitting around the table to spread the meringue on the cinnamon stars - with small sharp knives so that the snow reaches all the way to the corners. Each of us wears an apron and has our hair neatly tied back. On another tray, butter cookies are waiting to be decorated with little sugar pearls - all in all a rather sticky affair... The Advent wreath stands with burning candles, which were always red, on a small table in the corner, because we need the whole kitchen table for our cookies.
As the youngest, I sneak away to my new treasure, which has been given a place of honour in the type case. Very carefully I unscrew the little perfume bottle, so as not to spill anything, and I smell it.
I have no memory of ever really wearing the Nonchalance and the Tosca back then. The vials were so tiny, filled with only a few precious drops - and I can well imagine that I really just smelled it from time to time. The memories of that time, when so many things were still so new and unexpected and overwhelming, make me a little nostalgic.
All this is what these scents trigger in me - and while I notice that my eyes have become moist, I decide not to break them down into head, heart and base notes and perhaps subject them to a merciless, all too adult judgement.
I want to keep them as I remember them: The magical scents of my childhood.

My first encounter with the Nasengold brand really made me go into raptures yesterday - the test by G. was so successful that I will empty my bottle of Hermès "Eau de Pamplemousse Rose" (super-super beautiful, but flies away quite quickly) as quickly as possible to let this great grapefruit scent slide in its place next. I also tested /L. And that turned out to be quite a contrast. Also /L starts with a tasty, but in the spicy direction: thyme, rosemary, ginger - and in a decent amount.
And another component that causes me headaches right from the start. It smells to me like leather and gasoline. Not of fine, delicate glove leather, but of a rocker leather jacket with a matching Harley. Not unpleasant, but always irritating. By the way, this is the moment when I decide that, for once, a fragrance described as unisex is more of a male scent for me. It's not so much because of the individual components, but the overall impression is simply masculine.
And don't tell me now about violets, lily of the valley and orange blossom in the heart note. I can smell them (not at all for me individually, but overall as a distinctly floral note), but the leather-gasoline/smoke mixture above and below is clearly present throughout. Later it is supplemented by wood and vetiver (the somewhat spiky version).

/L is extremely difficult for me to describe, because for example "gasoline smoke" sounds negative, but is not meant that way in any way. It is a fragrance puzzle scent that makes me want to stick my nose to my wrist all the time. The second scent of nasal gold I'm testing is also full of surprises.
It confuses me, it challenges me, I can enjoy it, but I'm sure it won't end up on the wish list for myself. But whether it could end up on my husband's birthday table (as a completely unselfish gift, of course) is a completely different matter... What is clear in any case: I will definitely test the others - and all the other fragrances that Nasengold will create in the future! G. and /L are both wonderfully non-conformist, surprising, scented works of art that delighted me for hours! I am really glad that I stumbled upon these treasures.

When I finally managed to squeeze my long overdue hairdressing appointment into my diary today, I had an epiphany experience, so to speak. When I entered my hairdressing salon, I was left standing in the doorway as if rooted to the spot - soaked through the nasty rain. What does my eye see: On the shelf just opposite: Fragrances, a full line of Nose Gold, Carven and Escentric Molecules. It was only by using all the willpower at my disposal that I was able to FIRST perceive my hairdressing appointment - and only then to test it. Practical: while I was sitting there on the little armchair and letting them snip at me, I could do extensive research and decide in advance which fragrances would sit on my arms.
And the winners are: Nose gold G. and nose gold L
Nasengold G. immediately attracts me by the grapefruit component. I love grapefruit, but I always find it quite delicate in perfumes, at least that's how I feel about it. Sometimes it's gone after seconds, sometimes it looks kind of sweaty, sometimes it smells extremely artificial. Well, you can put me in the direction of ecstasy with a good grapefruit scent, even if not completely - at least.
And that's what it is, the G. An incredibly good grapefruit scent! Looking into the pyramid of scents, I glanced briefly at sulphur? Do I smell like a match? All complete nonsense, somehow the sulphur seems to fix the grapefruit scent and keep it in this pleasantly bitter freshness. But if you suspect that G. is just another citric summer scent, you are mistaken - and very wrong. Because after you've had the pleasure of enjoying this great grapefruit-ginger-pepper blend for an hour or two (all my favourite components for the top note in one - I'm going crazy), something happens and suddenly G. becomes more flowery, softer, more sensual. Oh man, it smells good - and underneath I can still smell that top note. How does it work? For me, it smells like I imagine the best scent rose in the world: delicate, but still opulent, velvety and elegant. No trace of pompous or sour or dominant. Simply caressing and beautiful. And again G. Time to enjoy the new development, because only very gradually do darker nuances join in: a touch of leather - but the soft, delicate leather of beautiful (and usually extremely expensive bags), vetiver - but not bristly or strawy, but the variety that gently swings in the wind, a little wood gives more substance: And yes, then it comes, towards the end: cocoa. I find this idea, to add a completely incoherent element, simply brilliant. The fragrance always has a wink in its eye, a not-so-seriousness that I find great. It plays with expectations - and then turns off in a direction that takes you completely by surprise. During the fragrance test I kept thinking: How cool, I would never have thought it would go on like this! What's also very strange about the scent: it somehow turns loops. So not the classic sequence: head-heart-base, but again and again unexpected scent sounds appear, which were already there and which you thought they had already said goodbye. Sometimes pure as before and sometimes thrown together anew.
It is a fragrance you can really immerse yourself in - for hours. I always discover new facets.
In any case, I am deeply in love, and I am faced with a very, very difficult decision: Should I change my really excellent hairdresser to avoid temptation - or do I simply have to plan for a bigger budget on my next visit...

Vegetable mango chutney to start? With a clearly perceptible carrot-gazpacho note? It smells kind of edible - and what smells there is definitely my wrist. I wait patiently - after all, the top note of many a perfume is sometimes mysterious to disturbing for me. Let's see what else the Nile serves me.
Okay, there's a flower floating by: A watery flower, but definitely a floral note. Oh no, the delicate flower has got caught in the rush thicket, where it is densest and gives off a slightly musty smell. At the edge of the Nile, incense is burned in the barrel - the coked smell mixes with the earthy-muddy nuances - and does not make it any better or more acceptable for me.

It hurts my soul that "Un Jardin Sur le Nil", of all things, leads to the very first review that I write on perfume! I love "Un Jardin Après la Mousson" - and I thought that the other garden fragrances from the same house might be something for me too!

Detail in passing: On the paper strip - and on my cotton scarf I really liked it - there it smells really fresh green to me and doesn't have that extreme schmodder component that now spreads on my hand!

I confess that I have a certain weakness for tea fragrances. Not by chance was "Eau de Thé Vert" by Bulgari the first perfume that I called my own after years of perfume abstinence. Still one of my favorites - but unfortunately on me with underground durability. However, I have found a solution: It's my sleep-in fragrance... Then followed Fragonard "Jasmin Perle de Thé", Korres "White Tea. Bergamot. Freesia", both wonderfully uncomplicated summer scents and some are on the waiting list, for example Jo Malone's "Earl Grey and Cucumber". But when I spotted Teazzurra by Guerlain in the perfumery, I was still instantly smitten. It starts off tart and citrusy with a distinct bergamot, plus other citrus notes with a bitter undertone. Super refreshing and I love those bitter notes. Then after a few minutes, the floral notes are evident. Jasmine and violet from the fragrance pyramid I can believe, but the violet is only present as a powdery hint. Underneath is a nice tart tea note, but it smells more like black tea than green tea to me. Delicately, vanilla and musk emerge over time. Overall, Teazzurra is a very unexciting fragrance to feel good in. For me, it remains rather tart until the end - and that's what I think is great about it!