FluxitFluxit's Perfume Reviews

1 - 10 of 83

1 Awards
In the Bravanariz portfolio, Muga belongs to the trio of landscape fragrances. As with Juniper Ridge & consortia, materials are collected in the wilderness to be composed into 100% natural perfumes. Unlike JR, Barnaby Black or Firn Fragrance, Bravanariz comes from Europe, namely Catalonia. This is noticeably reflected in the different scent impressions.

First of all: The complete Discovery-Kit with the three fragrances is great! Both in quality and lastingness. However, they are not all easy and certainly niche, far away from mainstream.

Muga challenges me the most. Immortelle and I are anything but friends and so I could well do without its savoury spice, which accompanies the scent for hours. Nevertheless, there are a lot of counterparts here that contribute to a balanced picture. Muga starts almost medically bitter, the alcoholic note dries pale and hot with a green camphorous forest impression. After a few minutes we are already in sunlit fields, warm and goldenbrown.
I could have sworn that oakmoss would come in afterwards, and not exactly little of it. But according to Ernesto - an excellent and lively contact by the way, to which I will write more in the description of Bosc - it is not included. Labdanum it is! Not listed in the pyramid directly, but nevertheless implicitly contained, extracted from the components of the cistus rose. Sharpness and smokiness are now in the foreground.
I wouldn't have been surprised if Muga slowly smoulders out in the same way, but after 8-9 hours (!) an almost honeylike sweetness slides under the dry base. This is where I enjoy the fragrance the most, this is where all the ingredients are found and shimmer harmoniously across the plain. Minimal floral to powdery aspects contribute sparingly to the peaceful overall feeling.

Muga means "river", but this perfume stands for the plain. The river winds its way out of the mountain and crosses the dry land, which blooms thirstily. Plains ... plain ... may stands for "ordinary". Here it's anything but. Not the tamest of scent, but rivers are rarely tame either. Interesting!

1 Awards
When I tested Cala in a Berlin store, I immediately thought of "Sola Laudanum" by KoRo Perfumes. Both pure natural perfumes. It is clear to me that this fairly unknown perfumes cannot give reasonable orientation to most of the folks here, therefore I'll list the related attributes: Dark resin, sticky in smell as well as on the skin (compare Norne by Slumberhouse), almost dark to resinous fruity (plums? raisins?) base.

In my second test at home, this impression is confirmed, but shifts far to the rear.
Instead, I take the top note as aromatic spicy, somewhat herbaceous with rosemary, resinous spicy camphor / menhol, sour sage. This sounds confusing and is also unusual for the nose, which shifts between the warm and cold melange at the same time. In aromatherapy, this contradiction can already be found in camphor alone, which has a cooling effect on the skin, but at the same time promotes the flow of heat through the stimulated blood circulation. Here the higher temperature impression is probably reinforced by the drier-seeming herbs. I find the muse described on the web page (cooling sea breeze in the sunshine heat banging on the cliff caves) appealing and appropriately converted.
It only takes minutes until a sweet anise note appears. No doubt thanks to fennel and soon clearly smelling of liquorice to me. Polarizing - I love it! This dark resin liquorice aroma gives Cala its delicious heart, perfectly balanced with a tiny mint freshness.
In the heart any liquorice action loses itself and Cala changes as described above into the more resinous, fruity darkness. Maybe we have already retreated into the cave here.

I like Cala through its whole evolution. If you like dark fennel themes and natural perfumes, you should take a look here.

1 Awards
Forgive me for that sloppy title-rhyme. Without humor, I simply can't deal with all the upcoming bans on natural ingredients. Now is probably the best time to stock up on real oakmoss scents. Anyway, I did it and count Bosc among my newest achievements.

Fresh on the skin, Bosc is actually fresh, orange-fresh. But just for a second. Green herbaceous, lots of juniper, soon a bit pungent with a hint of acetone. However, not exhausting to my nose. After around 30 seconds, sharper and more dry. Not dusty like many pinewood fragrances, rather clearer and lighter.
The base is leveling off quickly. Juniper and oak moss, smoky and glowing in dry pleasure. Excellent! You don't need anything more for an exciting full-day companion, who even still continues to crackle at night.
By the way, Bosc doesn't mean "bush" as I suspected, but "forest". This fits better. But as so often, the truth lies in between. And while we're at marketing: I have a fitting story that is much longer than the description of the fragrance.

Actually, it was all planned differently: Juniper Ridge has new solid fragrances and where can you test them? In Berlin, for example, and I happened to be there. Wildhoodstore is the name of the shop, friendly people behind the counter. Of course, perfume is not their core business, but the exchange was as fun as it was interesting. I talked about my natural scent impressions and alternatives to JR, in return they told me that in fact almost only lumberjack-shirted hipster guys buy the JR fragrances. When I inquired about other colognes or test quantities for passaround packages, they rummaged in their storage and summoned the Discovery Kit from Bravanariz. A young Calatonian brand that wants to bring its natural perfumes to the market. Wildhoodstore hesitated with the placement in the shop, in my opinion rightfully so: A discovery kit for 85€, without simple pre-tests because of the missing spray possibility (rollerball-pens!) ... hmm. Especially since one rarely finds all three fragrances convincing in the normal case. They still let me apply the fragrances - I suppose because they didn't believe in selling them - and Bosc accompanied me so charmingly for 24 hours that I enquired directly on the website how much to pay to own some myself. And lo and behold, the pens are also sold individually. I couldn't help but dump my detailed opinion directly into the purchase note input field, also praising the fragrances for their quality, as after more than two years of intensive natural fragrance tests, I am confident that I have sufficient competence in this area. Ernesto's answer came promptly: Yes, they would share a lot of my views and thank you very much for the feedback, and if I'd possibly want either the (high) postage for free or rather the free upgrade to the discovery kit? And so the fragrance trio of Muga, Cala and Bosc soon arrived here, after some breathtaking days of delay due to a neighbour having priorities other than perfume (how could you ;)). Together with a notebook with colored herb drawings, a printed shopping bag, a personal letter and two unfinished bases for planned perfumes with the request for my German straight-forward feedback. I have only tested one of the two and am already fascinated, may be put directly into the bottle and then to me, only a fixative would probably improve it. Oak moss in, as Ernesto emphasizes with a wink and a certain pride, IFRA-standard breaking concentration. Here I can directly cry tears of joy about the scent and tears of mourning about the coming EU prohibitions at the same time. After a lively email exchange I am happy about this great contact, which is still more direct and authentic with indie perfumers like these. And I'm also looking forward to the test of the second base.

Recommendation - both the perfume and the brand!

1 Awards
Dang! At last - like always around this time of the year - you don't want to buy new perfume anymore and then Lush launches a fragrance with blackcurrant, pine, vanilla, lime and oakmoss. Yes, copied pyramid, but simply because I do love all these notes. What could go wrong? I mean, have you ever been disappointed by Pyblitru (read: "Pyramid Blind Trust", an insidious perfumery disease that stimulates consumption)? Like, ever? To make it worse, Assassin is only available online, no sample chance.

At least my discipline was strong enough to wait until I got hold of a souked sample, which I opened together with KayLiz and KingLui. A little absurdly this act reminded me of various unboxing videos from the Internet, which I've usually met with skepticism and incomprehension. Kay sprayed the fragrance on herself and - tadá! - I was cured: Sweet tonka powder, uhh. A sticky gourmand who played so far away from any listed notes or even advertised fragrance categories, that my next assassin act at best opened outrageous holes in Lush's marketing employees.

At home a second forlorn test on me and this time delicious sour currant streams towards me. Like it's a different scent. Tonka powder too, but this time blended sumptuously. Just as the Lush stores smell of all sorts of things - some folks love it and others can't stand it - also in Assassin there is something bubbling under the citrus-fruity surface, tarty and soft at the same time. Sticky sweetness, forest rather as resin than as collection of green branches, later dark dusty mixed milk cocoa. So natural - not really - like their flashy bath bombs and in its inflated aroma almost a little too much of a good thing in its sweet-sour (trick or treat?) overall package. And yet, kind of awesome. In its majority certainly gourmand.

The icing on the cake is the smoking oakmoss at the end, but this time it's surprisingly natural. Having grown fond of oakmoss during the natural fragrance project, it occasionally swells to the light after half of the day and sets smoke signals. Assassins successful. Mission accomplished, total duration from eight in the morning to midnight.

By the way, then sold out. Which I find EVEN bolder than the pure online sale, but now from the buyers, to whom I did not allowed to belong. Gnah. Then I spotted a lonely as-good-as-new flacon on Kleiderkreise, a German second hand platform with a focus on clothing, where the private vendor generously left me with further exclusive lush (shower gel) samples. And now it's mine. The rest follows Schrödinger: Before you open a used bottle, there is as well the original scent and some kind of fake nonsense dupe in the bottle. Only after spraying, the flacon decides for a quantum state. With me fortunately to the original, yay!

I believe, my Schrödinger's Cat was an anti-consumerism cat.
Unfortunately, Assassin killed it. Smells good, though.

1 Awards
Natural scents that are close to the wilderness are a niche in the niche. Some of you will know Juniper Ridge at least by name. Barnaby Black is their little brother, so to speak. And Firn Fragrances? The little sister! Who also lives in the forest, however with a curious glance into neighboring areas with awake eyes. To the mossy ground, to the swamp, to the wasteland, to the smouldering fire in the undergrowth. It is strange like its siblings, authentic and independent to unobliging. I like the variations beyond the pure forest theme quite a bit, even though the individual scents are very different in terms of pleasure.

Rose usually is an awkward visitor for me. A note that's theoretically sympathetic to my nose and in practice almost always too flowery, especially as a single actor. Sure, you can combine it, like the roughly 17000 times this has been done with oud. And, hey, nothing against oud. But oakmoss ... holy moly, REAL oakmoss, I'd take that over oud 362 days a year. Despite all my love for German natural fragrances with their strict law requirements, I for once praise the fact that the US perfumers are not yet DIN-standardized and can be experimenting outside the EU regulations that ravage any sad oakmoss ingredients here. Rose Evernia has enough moss to send me happily dreaming into Lichenland. In the beginning, in the middle, at the end. So exposed that the single rose bends down questioningly at times in order to look at the mossy foundation in disbelief. Great, really great. Rough, slightly woody hot, green. Almost harsh - and I mean that in the most positive sense, because it is this raspiness that makes Rose Evernia wearable for me as a rose fragrance.

After three days of testing in early winter temperatures, the verbose image of Meggi's winter rose in the comment below (see German site) warmly roughened up by Mr Evernia complements each other beautifully. But I'll bet that this perfume will be integrated smoothly into the daily weather all year round because I find that both rose and oakmoss are fantastic warm summer companions as well. Two antagonists connected in harmonic counterplay. Without wanting to diss synthetic fragrances, the aromatic variety of fewer ingredients is one of the strengths of (some) natural fragrance brands. Less is more? One thing's for sure: I do not need less, but more of this substance, the bottle will be following this comment directly on the way to my home.

I'm a fan.

5 Awards

Fig - Aftelier

I'm conviced that some brands here aren't tested because the flacon doesn't appeal to you. And I'm also convinced that in many cases the flacon photo is just outdated ;) Like here with Aftelier, which I figured to classify as esoteric vintage for women, whereas the actual bottle design looks brilliant and fit far better to this beautiful Unisex scents.

Fig is green-fruity, a juicy bouquet of slightly sourly raisins, a ripe sweet oriental fig (date even?) and a sun-flooded pine forest. A deep, rich forest, you won't hear any echos back when shouting. Or maybe the echo is "fiiiig!". Stunning aroma, it reminds of liquorice and thuja. Intense and astounding, I love it! And it lasts. Over the hours, the scent becomes softer, a bit powdry even, but the fig arboretum grounds the fragrance. Its sweetness whispers of gourmand, yet everything but sugary, rather warm spiced liquor with hints of cinnamon. Nothing for Summer, instead a unisex cuddle for cold autumn days.

It should be noted that no actual fig is inside, but a wicked combination of lavender, fir absolute, jasmine and yuzu. It should also be noted that several of my parfumo friends do identify most of the actual ingredients (fir + lavender); not me, though, the fig illusion is playing delicate and delicious tricks on me. And for what it's worth, I don't care, it's fragrance I want. Or maybe just a tiny decant, as the prices are confident to say the least.
The scent, though? Ten of out ten. Like!

5 Awards
With 85$ per 30ml, this is the most affordable perfume of the Saint d'Icis completely limited collection. Not exactly a gift nonetheless. In exchange, you get valuable 100% all-natural ingredients and a powerful 25% perfume oil concentration. Fair!

The first seconds are mouth-watering: Juicybitter mandarin including wet shiny pieces of its skin, a tangible pleasure. Resins follow quickly , dampened cedar wood and sweet orange as well. The scent is brighter and lighter than some of its resin-creaking siblings.
Over hours, I indulge. Delightful citrus with delicate incense as counterpoint, everything has been done right here. And, wait a moment, this smells familiar ... "Italian Citrus"! One of my two D.S. & Durga favourites, just with more tangerine punch and a tripled intensity. Maestoso passion! Pour moi, si vous plaît!

It's no reason for surprise that citric accords are more fleeting than their smokey escorts. Yet, in the base note I mourn the departure of this wonderful fruit that leaves me unflinchingly after its first-class company, while too bright incense (or rather Labdanum, according to Marie) consoles me in vain for too long. The dual charm evaporates and leaves me longing - apply anew? If it wasn't for this ending, the flacon would have started its way from Johannesburg right away to my collection.

If you on the other hand show appreciation for a somewhat clerical incense ending and maybe couldn't esteem all-natural fragrances because a possible lack of impression, I can only vividly encourage you to try Une Mandarine pour Mon Homme. It's a beauty to behold.

5 Awards
Saint d'Ici is a small South African label unter direction of Marie Aoun. So many French names - something must be wrong here, no? Indeed, the citizen of Johannesburg spent a great amount of time with her grandparents in Saint Jeannet near Grasse. After her education by natural perfumes AbdesSalaam Attar by La Via del Profumo, she made the connection to Africa, her "here" (French: "ici").

I blissfully accompanied the birth of the first Saint d'Ici perfumes on Indiegogo, where the collection of Marie and three further parfumers saw the light of the day. Professional and transparent, Fluxit figured, and purchased a sample set. I liked the philosophy, too: Support for local farmers and a limited production (50 - 350 flacons). That not only helps with sustainable farming, but also avoids the yearly variance of natural ingredients. Like a year for a wine, says Marie.

The Company's Garden; as name slightly strange for someone like me, who associates the corporate world. Wrongly.

The fragrance starts with a slight piquancy, spicy, herbaceous, resinuous needle forest with honey. Not too surprising after my test of Myrrha Ambrata, all perfumes of the collection carry or notes of resin or smoke. Here, I like best how the "floral notes" - decrypting their complexity is an impossible challenge for my nose - smoothen its edge mildly, giving the fragrance a soft depth. A field full of wild grass, flowers and herbs bleached by the African sun. An apothecary from my childhood, where each ingredient comes out of individual tea boxes. Healing potions on the side shelf, maybe. And with this image of a rather alchemical workshop, the company and its garden suddenly makes sense. A lot.

Meanwhile, I learned that The Company's Garden is actually a public space in Cape Town. I've yet to confirm with a South African traveller if it in fact does resemble the garden scent.

In the later hours, The Company's Garden develops more incense, but way darker than e.g. "Nomvikeli", not the bright clerical kind. Resins burns softly to the end. On the whole, less fervor than Myrrha Ambrata, and yet, one of my favourites of Saint d'Ici. Wearable? Oh yes: When the sun scorches the meadows to a pale yellow and my thoughts travel to another continent. A rich repose. Scenic!

5 Awards
Some of you will have experience this: You test a fragrance, discard it as nothing special and on a re-test later you are dumbstruck by its surprising quality. Somewhat shamefully I must admit that this happened to me for the whole brand. After some rushed tests on paper strips, all perfumes appeared to have a weirdly eucalyptic note, all being to similar and maybe even boring. How blind I have been to these furious treasures of resin & incense!

Now, during the re-test, I can hardly stop writing, so rich and aromatic are the notes that strike my nose. Myrrha Ambrata starts with a crunchy green, eucalyptus bite, menthol. I'm wide awake, clear nose, certainly. Pine forest in a flacon. Several minutes later, the resinuous fierceness turns more balsamic. Green myrrh? Slightly sour, sage-like. Healthy. Everything radiates, harmoniously blended in a elaborate spectrum of intensity. I'm sitting in an African tent, ghostly figures dancing around me. A full journey in a bottle!

Some research was necessary on omumbiri: This myrrh-resin is gained from trees and used as natural perfume by African tribes for a long time already. Fruityspicey, slightly citric, orange, sweetly. Yes, YES. Ich assume this is the main carrier for the heart note, as all of these notes embrace me as creamily smoking veil.

As the day passes, Myrrha Ambrata turns sweeter. Clearly darkviscuous pine honey, gourmand even, yet not too syrupy.

At the end of the day, I'm at my end too, exhausted after this rich trip to Africa. A great scent experience! Juniper Ridge (head) + Soivohle (heart & base)? This is stormy stuff.

Just when would I wear such a fragrance? Never, really. Not even as room scent, too heavy, to challenging, too intensiv in longevity and sillage (as 100% natural perfume, mind you!). Maybe for a meditative holiday, without people, just me and my thoughts. Yes ... an energetic morning, a thoughtful afternoon and a placable evening.

A retreat for a day.

5 Awards
In the night we're hunting in style,
with cognac and fruit we beguile
the most innocent souls and invoke
warm pictures in wood set to smoke.
In the dawn we caress our prey,
and before the sun turns them grey
we bed them, soft coffins of lust,
till the night rewakes them, I trust.

For once, a poem, born out of the olfactoric struggle to decompose the scent pyramid ;)

I entertain a certain fondess for the brand Arts & Scents, mainly because of their values: No conservatives, recyclable packages, good handicraft made in Germany. At the same time, the flacons and in particular the website design pulls me to pieces: The amount of esoteric creativity that confronts me appear like a psychedelic joke to me. I almost come to believe that payments are not made with money here, but by otherworldly nude mating rituals with unicorns whilst chanting occult mantras! But wait, the flacons are available - and I sincerely, unironically want to applaud - in various and thankfully also small sizes (5ml / 30ml / 60ml / 120ml) so that maybe a short yet intense prayer to the knickknack gods is sufficient. The designer in me is split between speechlessness and despair, hah.

Alas, a passaround package made it easy to overcome my slight unsettledness. And Night and Dawn knew to surprise! In several ways, first I actually considered that the head note may have gone bad. Even the next hour remained in fruity-smokey dissonance. But the following note schmoozed my nose in such a wonderful way ... ambra, I would guess, animalic and embalmed by a soft vanilla. These vampires stand in full blood, voluptuous fleshy corpses instead of dry-wrinkling bat skeletons. Warmbodied with an almost sinister aura that cajoles temptingly. Hours later, warm patchouli finds me, not the earthy dusty type but rather full and fruity, almost edible. The clearly wooden coffin can't be found in lost cryptas but in velvet red, darkened noble's living rooms.

After several tests, the head note started to find my liking as well, meanwhile I catch, too. And when I discovered that no otherworldly nude mating rituals were necessary, I at last surrendered to a small bottle for my collection.
I explicitely want to mention the heartful contact with the perfumer, even some extra wishes from my side were no problem for Manuela. Bonus points!

If you care for big names: Chandler Burr as a (usually harsh) perfume reviewer of the NY times, owns a bottle of this fragrance and looked upon the scent with merciful pleasure.

And now, fly on. May the night come.

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