Karjala

Passiflora is the Latin technical term for passion flowers.

"Flower" is Passiflora only on the edge, because the fruit notes clearly dominate both in the head and in the heart note. Even the citric component and the aquatic note on which the fruit notes float are more present than the flowers. But passion - yes, the name keeps what it promises.

Passiflora is fruity and sweet without squeaking. Lemon and aquatic notes successfully prevent it from slipping into banal sweetness. It is even noble, but - and this must be emphasized in a particularly positive way - not so noble that one never dares to put it on. Some fragrances are such an orchestra that they can only be worn appropriately in the opera - and thus rarely, even as an opera enthusiast. Passiflora, on the other hand, is not a fragrance that makes you ponder in front of your perfume cupboard in the morning whether you're applying it a little too thickly. Because he has class, but subtle class. His strength does not come at the expense of his femininity; he is like a figure skater - strong and at the same time immortal beautiful.

Passiflora is one of those fragrances that not only appeals to the sense of smell, but also moves something in the soul. With Passiflora, I just feel confident. When I need encouragement, I put it on and sniff at my wrist - BÄM, there she is, the certainty that I can do anything. There are very few fragrances that can do that.

It's humid in the garden by the lagoon. The midsummer is over, but the warmth is still noticeably between the leaves of the southern plants, from which thick drops of the recently passed rain fall. The warm and humid weather calms the senses, everything seems slower; the course of the day, one's own movements, one's own breath.

The evaporating rainwater mixes the scents of the surrounding plants to a harmonious potpourri. It is difficult to discern individual notes; from the trees a warm feeling of well-being penetrates, from the Madonna lilies and Magnolias a breath of floridity.

The Jardin sur la Lagune is not a tropical paradise brimming with exotic fruits, just as little as it makes it seem as if a fresh or even salty breeze is blowing from the sea. It is the calm after the thunderstorm, in which the scents of a tropical but distinctive garden combine to form a pleasant composition.

This composition is definitely pleasant. But it lacks that certain something that makes a scent "wow" instead of "yes, nice". Since it has nothing biting, stabbing, penetrating, one can certainly wear it at any occasion. But the other Jardins have more esprit, which one must consider with the evaluation.

Harry Potter and Voldemort were enemies before Harry even saw the light of day. And yet their fates were connected by a special coincidence, their characters were frighteningly related by the same special coincidence.

So did Thierry Mugler and I.

...Well, it's a good thing that one of us would have forged a diabolical plan to eliminate the other before his birth, but that's not the case after all. But other parallels open slowly.

Thierry Mugler's scents are just so cross with me that I start to wonder if an ancient prophecy wants me not to get anything out of any of his scents. Because Womanity belongs together with Angel and Alien to my fragrance nightmare triad. Not only are they all extremely sweet, but they also have a further characteristic besides the bad sweetness, which I really don't like at all.

Cause to me, Womanity smells like I'm smelling something sweet that's been fired on. No kidding. Unfortunately, I can't say which of the perfume's ingredients can be blamed, because none of them smell "burned" to me. And yet it is. A friend, on the other hand, said that for her, Womanity smells like fruits that, let's say, "have passed their zenith".

When she gave her impression, I wondered how it could be that one and the same fragrance smells so fundamentally different for two people. Although, you keep asking yourself that. Womanity lovers will undoubtedly ask themselves when reading these lines how I can find him so badly. And really: It's also a mystery to me what's wrong with my olfactory perception that I simply can't make friends with Thierry Mugler - no matter which of his creations I try.

Although, with him as a person I have a quality that connects me. His perfumes eventually split minds - and my comments on his perfumes seem to do the same. So there is some similarity after all.

But who of us is Harry and who is Voldemort is left to the reader ;-)

As a commentator, you should primarily comment on the fragrance, not other comments. In the case of Ma Vie, however, the previous speakers actually inspired me to say what I wanted to say about the scent.

Many say Ma Vie is the ultimate everyday scent, ordinary, nothing special. That's right, I did. Many probably mean it in a negative sense - but I would like to add that in some situations I am very grateful for everyone who wears an "everyday scent".

At work, for example, where you spend several hours a day with different people in a relatively small space. Unless you're a hunter, but I can only dream about working in the woods at the moment.

So let's return to the office mentally (just for a moment, don't worry). Are we enjoying the fifty-year-old boss who kills us with musk and amber waters in which he apparently bathed? Or the young colleague carrying a meter-long cotton candy cloud behind her? Not likely. As you can see from my examples: men and women of all ages sometimes just get too close to their environment. And that also works with scents.

With Ma Vie, there's no such danger. He's cute, but not clumsy. He may even be girlish, but he's not childish. If you're looking for a fragrance for your big show, Ma Vie is the right choice for you. But let's be honest: How often a year do you make big appearances? And how often do you want to make a pleasant impression on your surroundings, but not to slaughter them with uniqueness that is displayed offensively?

I can say that Ma Vie is a perfect scent for work. That sounds sad at first. But when you think about it, it's not really.

You gotta hand it to Ari. This fragrance lives up to its promise. So in that respect I shouldn't actually give him such a bad mark. Why in my opinion he keeps his promises and why I can't evaluate him better, is explained in more detail.

The fragrances, which are marketed by singers, actors or the like, probably first of all have the fans of the corresponding star as their target group. So how do you describe Ariana Grande's target audience? Female, between 11 and 18 years old. And for those who now want to complain that they know 22-year-old Ariana fans or are between 11 and 18 years old, but don't like Ariana: That's not my point. What I'm getting at is the majority of Ariana Grande fans.

And the fragrance fits the target group described like a fist on the eye. Means he's sugary-sweet. Whoever likes it. But I just don't like cotton candy scents. There are fragrances that are more penetrating or that I find more negative in other ways. But in an adult woman I can't imagine the scent, it looks so youthful and inexperienced

Ari is certainly suitable as an introduction for very young perfume enthusiasts, but with increasing experience in the world of fragrances, the change to more complex fragrances should take place.