FabianO
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FabianO
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Clumsy casing, but filled with finely cinnamoned, vanilla powdered juice oranges
GoodSmeller than the previous speaker has already wrung out L'Ebolario by every trick in a linguistically very successful way. Maybe I still get 2-3 remaining analytical drops...
Yes, the flacon looks blatantly cheap, and the camel motif is also very similar to the illustrations on the classic green Karl May Bamberg volumes. In general - I find the illustrations and the naming somewhat misleading, I do not locate the fragrance in the deepest Orient, at best in southern Sicily with a telescope view to Tunisia
Sure, there is cinnamon in it and vanilla as well - but all in all, "Méharées" seems surprisingly fresh, lively in all its rather casual gourmandism. This may be due to the powerfully dosed, thoroughly juicy orange, which is at the same time contrasted by reserved spices.
Qualitatively, there is nothing bad to be said about this therapy. Extremely homogeneous orange, cinnamon, vanilla, a micro-quantity of rose and later a more expansive, inviting milk-cookoa-like patchouli form a feel-good scent at the interface between late summer and early autumn. Beautiful, despite its clumsy shell.
Yes, the flacon looks blatantly cheap, and the camel motif is also very similar to the illustrations on the classic green Karl May Bamberg volumes. In general - I find the illustrations and the naming somewhat misleading, I do not locate the fragrance in the deepest Orient, at best in southern Sicily with a telescope view to Tunisia
Sure, there is cinnamon in it and vanilla as well - but all in all, "Méharées" seems surprisingly fresh, lively in all its rather casual gourmandism. This may be due to the powerfully dosed, thoroughly juicy orange, which is at the same time contrasted by reserved spices.
Qualitatively, there is nothing bad to be said about this therapy. Extremely homogeneous orange, cinnamon, vanilla, a micro-quantity of rose and later a more expansive, inviting milk-cookoa-like patchouli form a feel-good scent at the interface between late summer and early autumn. Beautiful, despite its clumsy shell.
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The umpteenth variation of Ellena's synthetic sleight of hand - contentless neatness where only the name shines
Rather by chance I stumbled across a "Nile" sample, for years I had always seen him only in the ladies department of perfumeries. That he should be unisex, I noticed only on the sample package.
What can I say? Most praise him, Catch22 picks him apart in the grossest way - and I am actually the latter (and thus the minority opinion) very strongly inclined.
I feel the same way as I do with a great many Ellena fragrances by now: he's a one-minute seducer, a trickster and sleight-of-hand of the first order. To explain:
In the first 2 minutes, I found "Un Jardin sur le Nil" nice at first. Lively, upbeat, fresh, spring-like. I felt the same way about "Déclaration", "Voyage d'Hermès" and other Ellenas at the time. In the hair tips of the top note, the old fox still integrates natural, authentic aromas that elicit a brief "Aaah!" or "Oooh!". The "Nile" shows wiry grapefruit, also exotic-fresh mango.
And then - pardon, I have to call it - the shit happens: no 5 minutes are over and the "Nile" transforms into a skin-less, lifeless and soulless monster from the house of "Ambroxiso-e-super".
Padang!!! Exactly the same aroma level and spectrum as "Voyage..." and "Déclaration", quite ellenatypisch and not even to be confused with the whole shower gel lab fragrances à la Boss and Davidoff. Not at all. He has there already his special fragrance oil mixtures and their recipe well locked away.
Nevertheless, it is - but again - this unbearably artificially pure, antiseptic, the impression of freshness wanting to create standard aroma, which acts 97% of the time bar any development, in which the fragrance stays on the skin.
With me also no image arises before the inner eye, there I am with the critics below. The long name deceives, lulls one. Nile, garden - hmmm...Egypt, desert, sand, oasis, sunshine, relaxation.... But there's no mood wanting to emerge from the flat 100%-white-veil-synthetic, no association with such insistently delivered love for the lab wedding.
I love Ellena's "Rocabar," I appreciate his "Terre d'Hermès," I like his "Ambre Narguilé." But this is the same total failure as above-mentioned fragrances, which are all equally bland and distant from life knitted and basically just a bloated celebration of artificial and at the same time intrusive cleanliness and purity.
What can I say? Most praise him, Catch22 picks him apart in the grossest way - and I am actually the latter (and thus the minority opinion) very strongly inclined.
I feel the same way as I do with a great many Ellena fragrances by now: he's a one-minute seducer, a trickster and sleight-of-hand of the first order. To explain:
In the first 2 minutes, I found "Un Jardin sur le Nil" nice at first. Lively, upbeat, fresh, spring-like. I felt the same way about "Déclaration", "Voyage d'Hermès" and other Ellenas at the time. In the hair tips of the top note, the old fox still integrates natural, authentic aromas that elicit a brief "Aaah!" or "Oooh!". The "Nile" shows wiry grapefruit, also exotic-fresh mango.
And then - pardon, I have to call it - the shit happens: no 5 minutes are over and the "Nile" transforms into a skin-less, lifeless and soulless monster from the house of "Ambroxiso-e-super".
Padang!!! Exactly the same aroma level and spectrum as "Voyage..." and "Déclaration", quite ellenatypisch and not even to be confused with the whole shower gel lab fragrances à la Boss and Davidoff. Not at all. He has there already his special fragrance oil mixtures and their recipe well locked away.
Nevertheless, it is - but again - this unbearably artificially pure, antiseptic, the impression of freshness wanting to create standard aroma, which acts 97% of the time bar any development, in which the fragrance stays on the skin.
With me also no image arises before the inner eye, there I am with the critics below. The long name deceives, lulls one. Nile, garden - hmmm...Egypt, desert, sand, oasis, sunshine, relaxation.... But there's no mood wanting to emerge from the flat 100%-white-veil-synthetic, no association with such insistently delivered love for the lab wedding.
I love Ellena's "Rocabar," I appreciate his "Terre d'Hermès," I like his "Ambre Narguilé." But this is the same total failure as above-mentioned fragrances, which are all equally bland and distant from life knitted and basically just a bloated celebration of artificial and at the same time intrusive cleanliness and purity.
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Strawberry jam in the pew. Bizarre, bulky mix
The strawberry thing. Well, Terra sums it up very well below. Above says none, but in fact, this summery, red fruit brings a kind of irritation momentum in the fragrance.
"Ecstasy" would be basically a relatively 'stink`normally made, quite a bit woody-tree incense fragrance, were it not for this - unfortunately quite verpappt sweet - fruit juice tone.
Yes, in short, it completely shatters the whole arrangement. The incense somewhat acidic-sacral, pine slightly resinous - it could have been quite a nice autumn forest walk in a medieval Italian mountain village.
But those powerfully sugared strawberries, also artificial, somewhat syrupy, stick and bake around inside, which smells like your highly unpleasantly gummy hands at the amusement park after eating a crepe whose gooey filling has dripped onto your fingers, while there's no toilet nearby for miles.
Nope, failed due to the shrill cacophony, unfortunately. On edge.
"Ecstasy" would be basically a relatively 'stink`normally made, quite a bit woody-tree incense fragrance, were it not for this - unfortunately quite verpappt sweet - fruit juice tone.
Yes, in short, it completely shatters the whole arrangement. The incense somewhat acidic-sacral, pine slightly resinous - it could have been quite a nice autumn forest walk in a medieval Italian mountain village.
But those powerfully sugared strawberries, also artificial, somewhat syrupy, stick and bake around inside, which smells like your highly unpleasantly gummy hands at the amusement park after eating a crepe whose gooey filling has dripped onto your fingers, while there's no toilet nearby for miles.
Nope, failed due to the shrill cacophony, unfortunately. On edge.
