Eisbaer

In 2014 it began - my great journey into the land of niche fragrances. At that time I was still a student librarian (not poor, but much poorer than today) and without any really noteworthy knowledge about fragrances. Not to mention the ability to identify individual fragrance components. No, at that time there was only one thing that really counted in the field of perfume: my curiosity. If I was interested in the appearance of a bottle, I had a bottling line created - completely independent of the components and scents it contained. As a result, of course, a considerable number of the fragrances tested did not make it back onto my wish list. Not that they smelled bad - God forbid - but they just unfortunately could only pick me up very rarely, especially compared to very well known designer fragrance classics such as the "Dior Homme", which I loved then and still love today.

But one copy stood out from the crowd from the very beginning: Mark Birley's "Charles Street". A quiet eau de parfum in the truest sense of the word. But for my feeling at that time (and partly still today) it was simply incredibly elegant, high-class, adult, noble... and soothing. And even at that time a 125ml bottle was fortunately even affordable for me. It was never expensive as far as I know. And even today, when it doesn't really exist anymore, there are still a few left over bottles that are offered for small money. The scent was too unknown then and still is today. Maybe it's because its composition wasn't really groundbreaking - Tom Ford and Parfums de Marly have very similar fragrances, but they are still successful on the market today. I think Tom Ford's "Tuscan Leather" is probably the original scent. Well then, I'm an old representative of the "Charles Street" fraction, because I like the bottle best by far, and of course not least, because my heart connects very fond memories with "Charles Street"

The fragrance is a flawless blend of leather, raspberry and coffee. It doesn't really go through a major development, but as I said, it's also generally a quiet contemporary. It only radiates at the beginning and after only a few hours it becomes absolutely skin-tight. On clothes it lasts much longer, like any perfume. A shy Mark Birley. Since I wear fragrances mostly for myself, I don't mind that much. Many people even like that certain "office suitability" and reserve. And as a rather shy person, I'd prefer quieter fragrances anyway, both in my leisure time and for going out in a suit and tie. In my opinion, "Charles Street" is not for the summer and doesn't really want to go with T-shirt and capri pants - but of course that's a matter of taste and everyone should wear his or her fragrance in a way that makes him or her feel comfortable.

At this point, a little question for the community: Do you know when a fragrance immediately awakens in you associations with a certain place? When I smell "Charles Street", I keep thinking of London. I see a man in his mid-40s with a full beard in front of me, his hair on the side with a slight grey shadow. He's wearing a coat and a Burberry scarf and a flat cap. In the early evening hours, this gentleman is standing on Westminster Bridge, leaning against a railing and looking over to Elizabeth Tower. Big Ben is just beating with his characteristic sound and announcing the full hour. The man listens to the sounds of the bells. And he's wearing Mark Birley's "Charles Street." I share this association with you because I have often observed this fascinating quality in various fragrances: ...this ability to cause instantaneous head movements in relation to specific locations. Now London is also a city that I like very much. Unfortunately, it has been far too long since I visited it.

As for me personally: Mark Birley's "Charles Street" was and is a fragrance that I have been wearing since 2014, preferably in the winter months. I particularly like the spicy leather component, it harmonizes perfectly with the raspberry and comes to the fore a bit more after about an hour. The coffee remains rather subdued, but is subliminally perceptible and rounds off the composition wonderfully (perhaps otherwise it would have added a bit too much bitterness to the overall concept). I especially liked to wear the perfume during my studies when I was walking around on foot. Early in the morning on my way to the university, when it was still dark and the cold wind was blowing around my coat, I buried my face deeply in my scarf and breathed "Charles Street" while I devoutly listened to the Milk Carton Kids on my music player. Even during the regular evening walks, "Charles Street" was, and still is, a very faithful companion of mine

One small point of criticism at the end: the bottle, with its tasteful simplicity and unfair colouring, is without doubt one of the most beautiful I have in my collection. Unfortunately, it is relatively massive due to its cube shape and lies a bit bulky in the hand. But this could also be due to the filling quantity of 125ml. It is or was still available in the Traveller's Edition with 75ml capacity. They certainly grip better, but unfortunately they are not nearly as beautiful as the glass flacon. Furthermore, the pump system is not quite optimal, because on the one hand it is a bit stingy and on the other hand it leaks quite often. Due to the discontinued production I will get some more Traveller-Flacons soon and I will be happy to check if they can be sprayed better.

By and large, "Charles Street" remains an integral part of my collection and has become a very important companion for me. In late summer 2019 my beloved grandfather died and left me his leather coat. I always feel very warm and also a little comforted when I put on a comfortable sweater after a long hot shower, wear the leather coat over it and, after a few sprays of "Charles Street", walk out the door and meet the world outside. I love it when fragrances manage to give me a sense of calm and give me a feeling of security and confidence. I am always on the lookout for such examples. With "Charles Street," Mark Birley has virtually created my first "adult" fragrance. I'm grateful for that

If "Mark Birley Charles Street" were music:

"Michigan" by The Milk Carton Kids
"Love Of Mine" by Nickel Creek
"Great Lakes" by John Smith

My father (born in 1955) did not have a real signature fragrance in his closet during my childhood, as is the case with many perfumes here. I think he simply liked several fragrances equally, without wanting to commit himself to a particular brand. A characteristic that I inherited from him, because I feel the same way: I still don't have a signature fragrance because I like so many fragrances that I could never and would never want to commit myself. Besides, I would find it very difficult to do without certain treasures in my collection, and I enjoy the daily variety that comes with it. In addition, I wear my fragrances mostly for myself. My skin radiates relatively badly and in general my surroundings don't even know that I have applied a perfume. My father was never a fan of niche fragrances - he wore pretty much everything that was common tenor in the 80s and 90s: Harley Davidson Legendary, Tabac, Lagerfeld Photo, Daniel Hechter Caractére - and Davidoff Zino.

Normally I love to smell the scents of my childhood. They all have something very special about them. This classic fresh zeitgeist and this cleanliness, which opens up olfactorically to me immediately when I spray them on. At Davidoff Zino, however, it's not so much the childhood factor that counts for me; there's a very special relationship between the two of us: It is a fragrance that caught me and comforted me during an extremely difficult and hard time. But right from the beginning: It was 2017 and I found myself in a period of my life when I was facing a very big and profound change. Without boring you too much with details: For several years I had pushed myself to my physical and mental limits to make sure that this change would go well - and it became an absolute catastrophe, among other things due to several serious accidents. My mental state was miserable. I was at the end of my tether, overwhelmed by everything, simply finished with the world and on the verge of resignation.

But then came a fateful day in October 2017 when, while doing a harmless everyday shopping, I discovered a fragrance on the shelf that had long been on my waiting list thanks to Parfumo and which I had not smelled before (apart from my childhood days): Davidoff Zino. On sale, reduced in price. I took a sample sprayer (as far as I know, you're not allowed to do that in a "normal" department store, but so what) and was immediately taken with the warmth emanating from the Zino. He spoke to me - he said: Cheer up. I am here for you. I warm you up. Things will get better again, I promise. And the bottle became mine. My impression of the fragrance: I smell an extremely pleasant mixture of mild pepper and soap, later various types of wood are added and all this is garnished with a very slight sweetness. The Zino radiates a soothing and comforting security, similar to an old cuddly blanket, as one often had as a child; already a little old and dishevelled, but still always warm and fragrant. This winter I wore it with preference in the afternoon and evening hours. Then, when thoughts circled like a merry-go-round and I was in danger of losing my mind again. I also wore it very often to sleep and, whether it is my imagination or not, I think it also helped me to fall asleep more calmly and to relieve the anxiety states that always occur. Whenever I needed it: Zino was there, was at my side, calmed me down, gave me back the ground under my feet.

This difficult period lasted until about the spring of 2018 and then gradually improved. Even as I slowly got back on my feet and life began to be fun again, Davidoff Zino accompanied me. Today he has become a really good and close friend of mine, whom I don't wear every day, but whom I think about regularly and whom I fall back on from time to time - and I enjoy doing so. With all my designs I am well aware that I am not writing about the vintage version here. I would like to test it on occasion. The current version is nevertheless a masterpiece for me personally. The sillage and durability, which have been reduced by several levels compared to the original, are thankfully still ideal for my purposes. The bottle doesn't suit everyone's taste; I like it very much. It's easy to grip, has a pleasant shape and the color scheme harmonizes very well with the fragrance itself. I like the vintage version even more, with the "Davidoff" in italics - if only because it reminds me of the time when I was a little man of maybe four or five years old and could admire my father's bottle on the bathroom shelf. Really: I found such containers very beautiful to look at even then.

Concluding words: The Davidoff Zino has played a major part in my memory of the time around the winter of 2017/2018 no longer as absolutely cruel, but at least in the meantime as bittersweet. I am infinitely grateful that Zino and I have found each other. If the (sometimes contradictory) statements are correct that the fragrance is no longer produced, I will definitely stock up on bottles. Thankfully, this is not a big problem financially, as the Zino is not (yet) offered at too high a price. I undoubtedly still respect the opinion that the vintage version will of course not be surpassed by the new one in any way, but that doesn't make the new version bad at all. At least I think so. Thanks Zino for being there for me when I needed you

If "Davidoff Zino" were music:

"Stealing Tomorrow" by Great Lake Swimmers
"A Little Mercy" by Jamie Lawson

I started very early to long for the time when I was still a child. This already happened at the age of twelve to thirteen years and this happened in melancholy, because I did not get along at all with the world after the turn of the millennium when I was growing up. Today, as a boring office worker of about 30 years, I manage with a spark of less melancholy to remember those days. Meanwhile, I have no problem with being transfigured at times. Admittedly, the 90s were already far removed from much of what the previous generations knew. But even today I still like to correct various prejudices in conversations: We have still experienced the internet free time. With us the reunion was still fresh. We grew up with records and tapes, as did our older siblings and our parents. We operated telephones with dials and wrote the letters of thanks (for the ten marks for the birthday) by hand to the relatives. We cried when Mufasa died and let people close to us comfort us. We were home

I have only been consciously involved with fragrances and the world of perfume since 2014. At that time I was in the middle of my studies on my way to becoming a state-approved librarian. Until then (if at all) I had only been familiar with the most famous standard fragrances, I decided to get to know the world of niche fragrances myself and had a number of bottlings made, sometimes at random (I was actually superficially looking for the beauty of the bottles). A whole new world opened up to me. Niche fragrances have never replaced my collection of standard fragrances, but they have become an excellent addition to it. Among the bottlings was also David Jourquin's "Cuir Mandarine". And even if I have meanwhile tried my hand at the world of fragrances a little more intensively: So far, no other fragrance has succeeded in transporting me back to my childhood in such a formative way as "Cuir Mandarine" does. This fragrance has been my signature scent every Christmas since 2014. Only for this time, as I could not afford a bottle as a student and had a bottling made every year. Now that the year 2020 is upon us, my dream has come true. David Jourquin's "Cuir Mandarine" from the Opera Collection will finally accompany me on my way as a bottle.

I put a spray of "Cuir Mandarine" on my skin, take a deep breath and close my eyes. I see myself again as a little boy on a snowy December evening sitting at a desk with my brothers and sisters and my cousins in dimmed light, drawing pictures with crayons, while loved ones around me talk and laugh with each other and give me a feeling of security. The event is accompanied by contemplative music. In a quiet corner of the room in the immediate vicinity of the fireplace someone smokes a pipe. My favourite aunt, sitting next to me, wears a sweet lavender scent that envelops me comfortably. Peeled tangerines are on the table and the old family home, built beyond the 1930s, pleasantly ensnares all residents with gentle wooden smells. The front door opens and my uncle, who had just cleared snow outside, enters the room and takes off his leather coat. I put the pen down, my picture is finished. I'm home

I open my eyes and find myself back in the present. A momentary feeling of sadness overcomes me. The charming houses of our small town are gradually being demolished and replaced by sterile new buildings. My favourite aunt is now divorced. People are annoyed by contemplative music at Christmas. The December days are now rainy and grey. But: I realize that I have found a fragrance that makes me think of my happy childhood days and that will accompany me from now on into the future. Today it is me who smokes a pipe and wears a leather jacket. Today it is me, whose task it is to give security to other people. And who knows: maybe one day it will be me who will be allowed to keep his own children company and be there for them on a snowy December day while they paint and do handicrafts together. And I'll be wearing cuir tangerine. And I'm gonna realize I'm home

If "Cuir Mandarin" were music:

"The Last Unicorn" by America
"Everyday" by Phil Collins
"I Just Can't Stop Loving You" by Siedah Garrett and Michael Jackson