Kovex

I like difficult scents. Fragrances that don't want to give away the broad spectrum of sensations they trigger. Fragrances that you have to work for. Fragrances that show new facets from time to time, changing and challenging between the poles. Which seem to call out to me: I only reveal my qualities when you have got to know me better. What these perfumes have in common with me is usually the unknown, never before smelled. The range of the first impression is enormously large. So not every one of these fragrances necessarily triggers the desire to test it a second time.

Tambour Sacré starts quite differently than the indicated top notes would suggest. Since I like to categorize fragrances into colors, the contents of the bottle or its color reflects exactly what I smell: brown, here bitter, bulky and completely unusual. The drawer thinking already ends here, because I can't think of any fragrance note that could be responsible for what I smell. What might have been disturbing during the first tests turns out to be a desire to have it over and over again after being worn several times and reminds me of situations in life that one does not want to see, does not want to experience and yet has to stare at it again and again in fascination, although one does not want to.

I understand if the scent is initially a deterrent to one or the other. The disgust reflex is ultimately located in the limbic system of our brain. It's also where emotions and urges are processed. There where scents can touch or disgust us. If the smell is linked to a memory, this can quickly lead to a sensation that is no longer neutral, which counteracts the attempt to objectively assess the smell. Tambour Sacré, however, has such a new effect on me that I can get involved with it completely uninfluenced.

The bitterness runs very gently and carefully during the first half hour, leaving room for a light brown unsweetened mocha note that will determine the fragrance for the next few hours. Here I clearly differentiate between dark black coffee and this unsweetened mocha note here, which skilfully absorbs the bitter beginning, rounds it off and makes it smoother. Comparisons to other authentic coffee scents such as Akro's Awake or Mancera's Aoud Café are hardly possible here, because while the aforementioned ones are more reminiscent of food, to be precise, of sugared instant coffee, Tambour Sacré eludes this categorization and wants to score with natural-looking, but not too present coffee aromas that are beyond the association with a hot drink.

This may also be due to tuberose, which appears here at best in homeopathic dosage and gives the fragrance more depth and volume. A slight fleshiness, but without the typical floral notes of tuberose, adds a touch of animalism, which gives the fragrance additional tension. And here it is again: the fascination of the unknown, the desire to process, sort and put in drawers these new fragrance impressions. But it may not succeed, Tambour Sacré does not fit into any drawer.

In the course of the next few hours it will gradually become more pleasant, warmer and milder. A tiny pinch of cinnamon and an at best implied sweetness hardly noticeably creep in. Light dry woods, only hinted at, because the aroma of the coffee beans, which are also lightly roasted, remains for me for a long time.

The bottle is the simple and common model used by many smaller niche brands, differing only in the cap. A nice detail is the outer packaging made of two Iroko wood shells, which is quite rare and only found in the tropical part of Africa, including Ethiopia (the manufacturer assures that it was made exclusively from recycled wood).

Tambour Sacré - it is also the holy drums of Ethiopia that Cristiano Canali wants to bring us closer to with his fragrance. A land full of strange smells of spices and woods, whose smoke differs from the local scent of burnt wood, adding nuances, readjusting sensations.

Who would have thought that the Tambour Sacré is becoming increasingly conciliatory, and after many hours of playing it still reveals a sensual side, which still has something different in it, as if you were sharing a bed with a stranger.

This is exciting, although it is already lusting to spray again to enjoy these wonderfully bitter first minutes. No, Tambour Sacré is not easy and it does not fit into one of my drawers. What remains is the fascination of the unknown and the knowledge that I have found a fragrance that is beyond the usual taste.

Chypre scents and me, this has always been a difficult topic. Only when I got closer to the topic and became aware of what makes a chypre, I realized that already in my childhood the seeds for an unconscious antipathy were sown. Of course, as a child I did not know at that time that it was the chypre scents that I did not like about my mother.

The smell of wood has always been more appealing to me anyway than the scent of flowers. Even today I often associate chypre with cool-flowery, repellent, unapproachable, strict, distant, and so on. The list of negative attributes would be bigger than the list of positive ones. It was fragrances like Chypre Palatin, Maai or the wonderful Cosmic by Solange Azagury-Partridge that showed me that other instruments are capable of playing a different kind of music.

Right from the beginning Chyprette shows the typical handwriting of Annette Neuffer. The bitter orange she uses so often is at first the only note I can perceive in isolation. As is usually the case with her fragrances, the texture is so closely interwoven, so fluidly merging into each other that individual scents are hardly discernible. A brushstroke of orientalism, which is common to many of her fragrances, also reveals who was at work here.

Chyprette immediately dissolves into a dark green, warming blanket of balsamic-woody notes, changing to brown, which nevertheless identifies the chypre theme with a gentle austerity. I like to blame this part on the oak moss and I also like to clearly perceive the tobacco. Here, however, not the sweet pipe tobacco, but the aromatic-spicy, even bitter, fermented tobacco leaves used for cigars. To my delight, the above-mentioned are all capable of putting a stop to any impression of floridity or even sweetness that may arise.

It is a warm and soft, balsamic and spicy stream of melancholy that resonates in Chyprette. Like the tender strokes of the horsehair of a cello bow over the string, one remains in quiet contemplation of the touching minor key that Chyprette strikes.

This fragrance triggers a wave of comfort in me that is infinitely far from what I wrote above about my associations with Chypres. Chyprette is not repellent or distant, quite the contrary. When I first smelled the fragrance, I couldn't believe how deeply a perfume can touch the soul. It almost made me weep with beauty.

Concerns about the price were charmingly but certainly swept aside. With a mysterious Mona-Lisa smile Chyprette passed all my darlings by, knowing about their inner qualities but not depending on bold expression. Actually I should correct all my 10s ratings downwards, but let's leave that and agree on "Primus inter pares" - the first and the same. An exceptional scent.

The original version of Bat from 2015 was my first fragrance I tested by a zoologist. The impression it left was a lasting one. I was fascinated by the perfect thematic implementation of the flying cave dwellers in one fragrance. Nevertheless, a first wearing test was acknowledged by my wife with the question, which crypt I had got out of. And I have to admit: as brilliant as I found it, as difficult to wear it was

Now some scents have already been reworked by zoologists, such as Beaver or Panda. And of course the fears of the fans are always big that the special thing that makes a fragrance gets lost with its reformulation.

While the very likeable brand owner Victor Wong took customer feedback to heart and redesigned both Beaver and Panda in favor of convenience and portability, there is no denying that even an idealist like him needs to make money at the end of the day to keep his business going. Bat had a large fan base and there was no reason to change the scent.

However, the reasons were different when Bat was revised. As far as I was able to find out, the rights to the fragrances are held by the respective perfumers, who sell their creations under temporary licensing by the Zoologist brand. However, when it came to renewing the license for Bat 2015, the perfumer in charge, Dr. Ellen Covey, wanted to obtain significantly higher fees for the renewal of the license for Bat. Victor Wong refused to do so, as it no longer seemed possible to set a price that was appropriate for him. So he looked for other possibilities to continue to sell the successful Bat.

With Prin Lomros, Victor Wong has won what I consider to be a brilliant perfumer who is innovative, creative and courageous at the same time.

Bat 2020 starts with a strong and full-bodied fruity note. The delicate unsweet green of the fig harmonizes fantastically with the sweet-sour aroma of the guava and the exotic fruitiness of the passion fruit.

This very pleasing fruitiness is accompanied by fragrant aromatic and earthy notes. There are parallels to the old version, only that the whole thing here is much smoother, more harmonious and more pleasing. While Bat
2015, the new version focuses on more portability. Is that bad or reprehensible? Not at all, because I can be equally enthusiastic about the new composition.

The initial fruitiness remains in the beginning, but in the further course of time very natural mineral notes are added. One has the feeling of sniffing the entire microcosm of a handful of flavoured, slightly sweet earth. For a nature-loving person like me a revelation

A certain animalism is common to many scents of zoologist. Sometimes driven to the top of the tolerable, it gives Bat that certain something that gives the scent additional tension. But all notes are so subtly interwoven that no urine-smelling, grubby picture is likely to emerge.

I too was sceptical whether a worthy successor could replace the old version and was proven wrong. And princess Lomros-- I will keep an eye on him, thankful that Victor Wong brought him on board and that it did not remain with this one project. Bat made it right on my wish list.

And for all those who are still mourning the 2015 version of Bat, the good news is that it's still around.
I haven't had a chance to test it yet, but Olympic Orchids Artisan Perfumes has relaunched the fragrance under the name Night Flyer. Responsible perfumer - how could it be otherwise: Dr. Ellen Covey.

Florascent is a German company with headquarters in Karlsruhe. Besides perfumery, they also offer some products in the field of aromatherapy. Therapy sprays with names like "Headache Master" or "Never Sleepless" make me smile at first, but whoever has studied the effects of certain scents on our soul, will perhaps also find something in the chakra scents that are also offered.

The first fragrance from Florascent that I tested was Nuoro. When I look at my notes from that time, they talk about sauna infusion. Pleasant to smell but as a fragrance? Of course it didn't take long until I came across quartzazate and both the scents and the few statements about the fragrance made me sit up and take notice: Frankincense (I love that stuff), coniferous wood, resins and all that in a green robe. That can only be good.

I am not actually a blind buyer, but the risk with a 30ml bottle seemed manageable to me. The name bottle is very flattering. Let's talk about a glass container with a nebulizer. If you are looking for an appealing feel, you are in the wrong place.

Quartzazate starts sharp and green. Camphor immediately comes to my mind, accompanied by a fresh, resinous and ethereal coniferous wood. The combination of mint, which probably caused my camphor association, and the allspice, which provides a good deal of peppery pungency, actually gives rise to thoughts of aromatherapy. Anyway, the nose is clear for now.

Incense is neither smoky here, nor do thoughts of places of worship arise. Rather, he does his service here in the usual way, by lifting the whole thing to a loosened and airy level, bringing a little transparency to the fragrance.

Ouarzazate is the capital of the province of the same name in southern Morocco. Florascent advertises the fragrance with a walk in the cool medina (North African term for the old town) of Ouarzazate. Immediately, images of cities built of clay with windows the size of an embrasure appear, picturesquely situated in the middle of the High Atlas and Anti Atlas Mountains. Scatter a few palm trees. The last green oases before the Sahara devours everything in the sand.

The stupid thing is that quartzazate is not an oriental fragrance at all and associations with the lively markets of Morocco with all their unusual scent impressions may not even arise. It remains primarily (pale) green, resinous and coniferous. The mint provides an amazingly long time for a fresh impact that makes the fragrance wearable for almost every season.

I like the scent, although after wearing it several times, disillusionment sets in. The aromatherapy and sauna thoughts are not to be dismissed even with this fragrance. That might make him a little bulky in everyday life.

Because one thing Quarzazate is for sure: distinctive and memorable. Thus, it could involuntarily become a signature scent if used frequently and regularly. Maybe not for you, but definitely for your environment.

Sylvaine Delacourte worked for Guerlain as a VIP customer consultant for over 15 years and was able to gain a great deal of experience, especially in the creation of customer-specific personal perfumes, which she now preferred to incorporate into her own collections. She made use of her talent to work out certain characteristics of individual scents, to emphasize another facet or even to change the whole character of a scent by selecting the raw materials

After having already dedicated herself to the scents musk and vanilla with 5 scents each, the Orange Blossom Collection has now been released, where everything revolves around orange blossom. I have to admit that the marketing concept brings out several fragrances with overlapping scents and brings a winking smile to my face. At first I thought that Sylvaine could not decide from the 200 attempts to develop a perfume (so many attempts she needs according to own statement), in the end, which is the best one. So we took the 5 best ones and brought them all out together. Let the customer decide. But I don't think that would do her justice.

Since their sample sets are very inexpensive compared to many other brands, there is certainly nothing wrong with approaching their approach and smelling the subtle differences.

From the Orange Blossom Collection, I liked Oranzo the best. Maybe it's because the orange blossom here shows its unsweet and unflowery side and for me it's also the most masculine fragrance out of the range. Although I am well aware that many ladies could also enjoy this fragrance.

Oranzo begins fresh and spicy, the citric notes - above all bitter orange - do not play too much in the foreground and are soon accompanied by light jasmine and delicate orange blossom. Deprived of any sweetness, the orange blossom is also unable to set fruity or softer accents. Rather, woody and green notes take over, which can certainly be traced back to the mastic. The mastic resin, extracted from the trunks of the wild pistachio, exudes an almost ethereal green, slightly bitter aroma that reminds me of freshly peeled tree trunks. At the same time, it creates a refreshing and invigorating feeling that catapults Oranzo directly onto the watch list for summer fragrances.

In the further course "Sauber"-Moschus joins in, accompanied by a dry powderiness, but also this does not want to know anything about sweetness and leaves Oranzo in his - yes, one could accuse him of it - straight-lined, change-unwilling slightly bitter-green woodiness. But there are people who like that. Me, for example.

Oranzo is certainly not the figurehead of the series for the theme orange blossom, because in fact it is the least noticeable to me compared to the other 4 scents. Nevertheless, Oranzo is an uncomplicated, refreshing, clean scent that is by no means softened.

I really like the concept with the thematic examination of individual fragrances. The other four in the row smell completely different. And so one goes on the search for traces of the orange blossom and discovers that there is much more behind it.