Harielle

Emma Watson is being celebrated these days for recently announcing that she is partnered with herself, which is a very elegant description of her single status. I like Emma Watson, and I don't generally care about gender issues and topics, as I once sent my son to a gender-sensitive kindergarten (so if he later becomes a macho, it's really not my fault). Whether it is really so sensational to be a partner to oneself, or whether the resonance is only due to Emma's degree of popularity and her cleverness (or that of her PR team), is up to the question.

Especially women without a male (or female) being at their side - and here the topic of gender sensitivity comes to the fore - are often derogatorily called deficits. Thus, it is refreshing from my point of view when women in particular make it clear that a life with oneself can also be self-fulfilling. What is also more often addressed in the context of single people is the question of how self-confident and balanced they are, whereby "(...) the ability to be alone is the condition for being able to love."(Erich Fromm)

I can smell myself well here does not allude to more courage to the smell of one's own (Sissel Tolaas), but to the question of how well one gets along with oneself. A little support of an olfactory kind can't hurt in this respect and so I would like to present here a fragrance for self-partnered people from an idiosyncratic perfume manufactory in Germany's capital:Chatelaine by Harry Lehmann.

Chatelaine, the owner of the castle, effortlessly fills the whole estate with her scent. Uncompromisingly, the top note of fascinating synthetic candy floss mixed with a light adhesive note (or is it herbaceous?) and slightly dusty-looking flowers appears after application. The lady isn't really a wallflower, that's for sure. At this point, the test community separates into those who tear out in front of this olfactory top note Hui Boo (according to the motto, if Chatelaine is too strong, you are too weak) and those who happily partner with each other, who courageously and curiously follow the sweet attractant from Lehmann's bottle. Crème caramel, sweet berries and further candy floss (Maltol?) take over the rudder in the heart note and yes, this rudder is eagerly swung! A nocturnal boat trip in the moonlight in the castle moat, at the rudder sits a dark journeyman in black cowl a ring ghost from The Lord of the Rings like, can this Chatelaine nothing harm. Velvety dazzling she pulls a delicious fragrance flag behind her. Many a Romeo who wanted to follow her drowned in the moat because he was bewitched by Chatelaine's scent and underestimated the depth of the water. The dry, earthy Patchouli cloud of the heart note mercilessly drew him deep into the water.

It is not necessary to have your own lock to run Chatelaine properly. Only a certain boldness and coolness (concerning the outside temperatures, better not to carry at over + 20 degrees) I consider obligatory, in order to be lulled in by the lady of the castle. So that Chatelaine does not become a free bird, women (as well as the inclined male Chatelaine carrier) should definitely pay attention to a socially acceptable dosage, otherwise the contented to be a self-partner develops quickly to the kitschy Me-myself and I-Selfie, which no longer wants to see (and smell). I had ordered Chatelaine in a bottle without a vaporizer out of (wrong?) thrift and was astonished to find out that this scent can be dabbed on exactly the right amount and thus develops its mystical magic ideally - even for happy relationship people.

My maternal grandfather was a great silent man who loved his garden above all else. In addition to numerous (fruit) trees and flower beds, potatoes, raspberries, currants, gooseberries and other delicacies grew on the more than 1000 sqm2. He had even created a small fireplace in a corner of the garden. Here he smoked a cigar every now and then, which nobody in our declared non-smoking family officially knew, but nobody made him "mad" either. Speaking of maggots, they had an excellent field of activity on the large compost heap, which we children only came close to when our resolute grandmother asked us to bring compostable kitchen waste there. Especially in spring the air of this paradisiacal place was filled with flowery scents. The perfume Jacinthe by the Russian niche brand Myropol resembles a time machine that transports me years back to the garden of my now deceased grandparents.

Jacinthe is already in full bloom in the beginning, I involuntarily associate the colour purple/violet when I sniff at it directly after spraying on. In addition to the hyacinth, I smell other bright flowers and a slightly sharp accent in the prelude. Hot?! Yes, sharp and very, very, very light towards glue, which is probably due to the use of ozone and indollic notes. This slightly spicy scent also exists in "real" hyacinths in full bloom, by the way, as I was allowed to experience in Grandpa's garden during my forays.

After a few minutes, Jacinthe becomes softer and develops into a round bouquet - but always with fresh and spring-like grace. Vanilla and cinnamon I can only guess, they carry the luxuriant flowers and clearly perceptible green notes more than that they emerge.

Jacinthes opulent bouquet is carried by a base of musk and resinous Styrax. These chords also seem very "natural", which is what I try to express: the scent embodies a very unaffected, elementary character throughout. This is also what catapults me on this beautiful journey through time into the garden of my grandparents, a journey that, thanks to Jacinthe's good durability, does not end too quickly either.

Celebrated by some as a "Great Coco M. Dupe", punished by others as a "Coffee party in an old people's home", I finally took Suddenly Madame Glamour in my face.

Suddenly Madame Glamour starts off a bit shrill with a floral, slightly synthetic-fruity note, which becomes rounder and more pleasant (for my nose) after about 10 minutes. Fruity, powdery notes now emerge more strongly, probably due to a musky note. From the scent character I also notice a similarity to Coco Mademoiselle, where I remember the latter as less flowery.

After another 10 minutes I smell a stronger jasmine note, which is quite synthetic. The fruity notes become weaker, but a vanilla nuance now appears stronger.

After about half an hour I notice no further development in the fragrance. A floral-powdery breath remains, carried by vanilla and musk on the skin. A little sterile, quasi pore-deep pure I feel Suddenly Madame Glamour - not unpleasant and yet no fragrance I would like to wear. A similarity to Coco Mademoiselle is present from my point of view, but Suddenly Madame Glamour is rather the well washed bourgeois Madame Sans-Gêne, than a multi-layered Mademoiselle of aristocratic origin.

Conclusion:

Suddenly Madame Glamour is one of the more pleasant fragrances of the drugstore and discounter fragrances I know so far, because the often unpleasant vanilla-sweet plastic note is missing in this fragrance. The durability of Suddenly Madame Glamour on the skin is however rather weak, but with the price the inclined wearer sprays surely gladly after.

In Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Harry's fired classmate Neville Longbottom one day receives a memento (called Remembrall in its original version), a magical warning for the forgetful. The memory me looks like a big marble containing white mist. If you forget something, it turns glowing red. The pink Mon Guerlain is - in my opinion - a hug, a magic invitation to be hugged by people you love.

This hug mech is the latest eagerly awaited women's fragrance from Guerlain (published in 2017). Unavoidably advertised with Angelina Jolie, this Mon Guerlain called effective in advertising as "My invisible tattoo" (well...).

What makes Mon Guerlain a hug? Well, the prelude is determined by tender, powdery lavender, which is slightly accompanied by citrus notes. Soft, flattering gourmand notes that remotely remind me of marzipan emerge in the heart note. Officially listed are Jasmin-Sambac, Paradisone and Cumarin. The often onomatopoeic jasmine was used here reservedly and since I have no olfactory idea of Paradisone, I assume that this, paired with coumarin (which can also be obtained from tonka bean) determines the inviting, powdery-sensual fragrance character. In general, I notice vanilla in almost the entire fragrance, even if it is only listed in the base. The heart note of Mon Guerlain reminds me of the wonderful Macarons, which my son nibbled with great enthusiasm in the exclusive London Caffe Concerto the other day.

It is vanilla that carries the scent in the base paired with iris and sandalwood. Mon Guerlain is clearly on the currently very hip wave of gourmand fragrances, but I classify him as an adult gourmet fragrance that doesn't lack elegance for more official appearances. At this point I wave mischievously into the ivory tower once mentioned by Turandot here to the niche scent fans, nothing for bad people, but there are in both segments light and shadow.

Mon Guerlain may not be the reinvention of the wheel, but it is a high-quality good, beautiful and long-lasting fragrance (I notice it clearly for 6 hours) and I am happy that the Easter bunny put it in my nest in 2018. My favourite Shalimar Parfum Initial, which unfortunately isn't produced any more, he won't push me off my pedestal, but he will surely bring me many hugs from my family and friends.

The Mon Guerlain bottle reflects the timeless elegance of the emblematic Quadrilobé bottle designed by Gabriel Guerlain in 1908. It owes its name to the solidly worked closure, whose "four-leaf" form represents four cloverleaf sheets.

Mon Guerlain is a beautiful child of his time, whether my joy in this fragrance will continue to show in the future.

With 18 or 19 years I spent a very beautiful vacation in the French Provence. Sunsets in Cassis, swimming at the beautiful Calanques, drinking Pastis in Aix en Provence (brrrr, I didn't like the taste at all), overnight stays in very typical French pensions with bordeaux-coloured wildly patterned textile wallpapers on the walls. The windows open at night - phew, it's so hot - passers-by laughing on the street, music in the distance. The trip to the Pont du Gard - laugh - we were not even swimming today! After exploring and crossing the point several times - uh, that's high - quickly fetched a few things from the car and looked for a lonely place along the Gard. Found it! A kind of island in the middle of an already shallow river. Swimming - impossible, refreshment in the water is still soooo good. Stones under my bare feet in the water, sun on mine and his skin - our paradise. Surrounded by plants and wild flowers. "Psst, duck down, I think people are coming." I remembered all this involuntarily when I tested Fragonard's Grain de Soleil for the first time. In the middle of winter in Paris, after visiting the Fragonard shop at Boulavard Saint Germain, I felt the Provencal sun on my pale nose and thought I heard the rustling of the fragrant grasses around me in the summer wind

Grain de Soleil is a small sunny wonder in a bottle. Flowery and velvety the prelude with orange blossoms and - above all - heliotrope. The jasmine resonates rather quietly. The heart note is powdery and a little spicy. The latter is probably also due to the listed cinnamon, which I perceive only cautiously, otherwise I would not have automatically associated Grain de Soleil with summer and warmth. The powderiness is due to the beautiful iris and makes me think briefly of Shalimar Parfum Initial. Here, however, the iris has allied itself with the rose and sometimes waves radiantly smiling at the vanilla, which is waiting for its appearance with incense and patchouli in the base. After about two hours the time has come. Like a beautiful sunset after a hot summer's day, the base of the "seed in the sun" (that's the name of the fragrance directly and simply translated) announces itself. Vanilla and incense celebrate a vibrant rendezvous, Patchouli buzzes with a charming melody.

After our return from Paris, I dug into my jewelry box and found the earrings I bought during the described journey in Avignon, I still like them! Grain de Soleil is a fragrance that I would also recommend to people who don't like flowery fragrances because its character is rather powdery spicy. Ideal for the summer (-evening) on the balcony or also for dreary seasons, in which one can use a sunny, warm "Booster". The shelf life of Grain de Soleil is excellent, even after 5 hours I smell the vanilla peppered with flowers and spices. Women (but of course, men too!) with longer hair would be advised to put a sprayer in their hair in midsummer - this is the most discreet way to have Grain de Soleil around all day long.

I have enjoyed Grain de Soleil a 10ml bottling long very much. I don't know yet if I'll get it in the original version yet.