MonsieurTest

Olivier Cresp has already created around 200 perfumes. Among them, around the turn of the millennium, the wonderful Jungle pour Homme by Kenzo: an ingenious blend of subtle nutmeg spice, fine woods and tangy lime. In 2014, Cresp composed a brawny, dark cardamom symphony for the Cerruti 1881 Men's Series, which is known for its woodsy, spicy, mellifluous fragrances. In this symphony, he combines cardamom, pepper, juniper and nutmeg with a range of heavy spices at a pleasant temperature.

The whole thing smells wonderfully Christmassy, fits perfectly in misty autumn and cold winter days and reminds not only from afar of a meanwhile probably half forgotten Azzaro fragrance from 2003: Visit. Annick Ménardo created this cardamom fluffi, which I also appreciate very much, also with many ingredients from the spice rack: On a base of cedar and gujac wood, Ménardo planted a heart of incense, barely noticeable amber and musk in her Visit, and culminated with fresh pepper, cardamom and nutmeg.
When comparing the two quite similar fragrances, Azzaro's Visit seems to me a little softer, gentler, if you like: more feminine. But also a little more synthetic, slightly metallic out the back. The juniper in Cerrutis 1881 beautiful night, perhaps also the delicate coriander and patchouli notes, make this Cerruti a bit rougher, more masculine.
This makes him a worthy flanker of the wonderfully wooded, certainly somewhat oldschoolig dusty, but always refreshing, massive green original Cerruti 1881.
Like probably most nights in the name of leading men's fragrances, Bella Notte in 1881 also has its eye on Yves Saint Laurent's bestseller L'homme La Nuit with its seductive cardamom vibe. The creative trio Flip, Wargnye and Ropion underlaid their cardamom-pepper-cedar triad with sweet tonka and dimmed vetiver and added bergamot and lavender in the head and heart notes. I still find the original night of YSL (whose newer versions are now often complained about here as being badly diluted) to be a rather great, warm, seductive evening and night-time scent.
However, it should be appreciated and remembered that Annick Ménardo had already composed a structurally similar cardamom symphony in 2003, which was more suitable for everyday use and not quite as sensually difficult as YSL Homme La Nuit. And Olivier Cresp finally added a variant to these two esteemed spice classics that tends a little towards nature, forest and outdoors. Which - depending on your circumstances - may be very welcome.
If I'm in the Mood for Cardamom, I would say: La Nuit for opera, dating and clubbing (although there might be too many people wearing it?). Bella Notte for the autumn walk or even for Christmas. And Visit, well, it's actually for almost all kinds of visits: Office, ballroom, even beach, as it seems to be the least wintry of the three Brothers in Cardamom.
The Sillage of 1881 Bella Notte is average, therefore philanthropic, discreet. The shelf life is also in the middle range of an EdT: 6.7 hours it projects warm, dark spicy. The bottle has the classic, irregularly grooved, jagged relief back of all 1881s - which I'm quite happy to hold in my hand (similarly designed) for one of the most beautiful summer scents, Rochas Eau pour Homme - now smoothed out, and only the number 1881 is jagged into the smooth bottle. Here it is in an elegant blue to black bottle, as befits a beautiful night out.
A beautiful fragrance that could well attract a little more attention here. Just because the Cerrutis are probably sold in drugstores doesn't mean that these are not good scents. In my eyes, more precisely: in my nose, the three cardamom brothers mentioned play in a league in terms of quality (but not price...). Just in the Champ..., äh: Cardamom-Liga.

The lively start is a minute of mixed citric freshness, followed by 6 hours of moderately radiating tangerine-bergamot-ginger steam, lined with restrained cedar-musk vibrations. All this looks round, pleasing and not cheap at all (unless you think of the pocket money friendly price).

But how does a perfumer who is no longer quite young come to Zara? And why so late? I'll try to explain. About 10 years ago, I once entered a branch of the fashion chain on the other side of the country, and I had already heard a lot about their rapid expansion and their smart clothes. I didn't notice any perfumes there (my attention was on the clothes); and after a few minutes it was clear that it wasn't mine - especially since the textiles and therefore the whole store smelled strange. As an armchair fashionista I accompanied the unstoppable rise of the fashion chain and its owner since then only by reading the style and business pages of European newspapers. But in recent times, while vagabonding through Parfumo.de, I have often come across positive reviews of Zara fragrances; most recently, especially those about the vetiver grapefruit from Zara's Jo Malone Emotions Collection. By information of other provenance, from behind the scenes, as it were, on the production side, the Zara fragrances also came to my attention.

What does the fine nose Jérôme Epinette actually do when he's not developing fragrances for Atelier Cologne, Byredo, Vilhelm or &Other Stories, i.e. for the finest, niche fragrance houses? What is Jo Malone, who has long since sold her name-leading company to Estée Lauder, doing when her new brand Jo Loves is not working to capacity? And what do the factories of the esteemed fragrance giant Puig (from Barcelona) produce when they're not coordinating and brewing Penhaligons, Prada, Comme des Garcons-, Gaultier-, Rabanne- or Herrera-scents as well as the few classics sold under their own name? Yes, what do all these esteemed addresses of fine perfumery do then?
-- They build, they brew & churn out cheap and occasionally pretty good fragrances for the fashion company Zara!

So the decision matured to get one or the other scent of this chain. All the while these hectic fast-fashionists&perfumists are also organizing sales and offer you some water as reduced six-packs, it was nolens volens some more than expected. My impression is that these fast perfumists obviously create a lot of fast rotating fragrances - more precisely: have them created: by the Puig professionals. Some of them then keep them in their program for years (classic care), while others sell them off and bury them in a flash. Which stupidly triggers the perfume's archiving and retaining reflexes.

But now for the first spoils of my affair with the dashing floozy Zara. Vibrant Leather Cologne is a bright, refreshing summer water, which has already been praised by others and compared to famous siblings. Jérôme Epinette designed a modern, slightly sweet tangerine-ginger cologne, but with a lot of persistence.

In clear contrast to the screeching lemon and the rather dull ginger in the Lemon&Ginger-Acqua Colonia of the traditional brand 4711, which I actually appreciate, the ginger in this Zara Cologne appears fruity, pleasing with minimal pungency and medium sweetness, like candied ginger: delicious.

Zara and the Puig assemblers succeed here in creating a tasteful, refreshing and long lasting light water, whose endurance was probably inflated by various synthetic ingredients; which (to me) is not unpleasant. There is a great similarity to Zara's Vibrant Leather Summer, which is called EdP - but contains pretty much the same and equally enduring ingredients as the Vibrant Leather Cologne. Whether there is a proximity to Dior Homme Cologne, as often noticed here, I cannot (yet) judge. It reminds me a little bit of the CK-One-like unisex airport PACO by Paco Rabanne, the one in the splendidly simple tinplate can sprayers; only the tangerine-heavy Zara Cologne lasts longer and instead of tea it has this slightly hot ginger note on board.

The name 'Vibrant Leather' seems rather absurd and misleading, as there is no leather or at most only a minimal base, which has a soft, cedar-like scent in addition to the permanently pleasant, fragrant mandarins and could possibly be mixed with a hint of musk and vetiver. The leather that the name refers to is more likely to be the wearer's pelt, which may start to vibrate a little in the face of such welcome refreshment.

In my opinion, this fragrant water is suitable for young and old, for men and women alike, as it is a fairly well-balanced modern cologne: moderately sweet, moderately ginger-spicy fresh and discreetly flowery, the fine mandarins (along with added bergamot notes) are accompanied by a subtle floral note. This modernized cologne accord lacks the neroli tips and also the rosemary&lavender spice of a Farina colognes. In addition, this Ensemble-Modern-Cologne, which is now allowed to perform regularly with me in addition to the 4711 Musica-Antiqua-Cologne, has a durability that is closer to that of a solid EdT.

I love the heavy, transparent, well-proportioned glass flacon. And the blue suction tube as a functional eye-catcher seems to me to be exemplary modern: Here, Renzo Piano & Richard Rogers have convincingly transferred the Centre Pompidou principle, which emphasises the functional tube, into the world of flacons. The solid plastic cap only slightly clouds this excellent external appearance.

Once again, it shows that the Spanish cologne brewers know how to compose refreshing waters that must have a soothing effect when exposed to heat. This refreshment, which is as light as it is adhesive, from the great nose of Jérôme Epinette is hereby recommended for testing.

With this warmly flattering, elegant fragrance, which invites you to come closer and cuddle up, Azzaro has created a first-class men's fragrance. An ideal perfume for the evening at the opera or theatre and everything that follows. It spreads a lively, seductive aura and a touch of non-animal eroticism. I (almost) put this perfume, which is as serious as it is soft, on a par with Guerlain's 'Heritage' and my beloved 'L'Instant de Guerlain pour homme', with which he shares the unsweet and tart cocoa. Guerlain's 'Instant' frames his dark chocolate with star anise and jasmine a tick sweeter than Azzaro's Amber Fever, which contains clary sage and subtle incense.

Actually I had some difficulties with (the classic) Azzaro: In the late 80s I used a bottle once. But soon more seductive, oriental-influenced charms came: Lagerfeld Classic, YSL Jazz - or enchanting newcomers like Armani's Eau pour homme. All of them looked more modern, friendly and less brown from their cases, both visually and in terms of colour. Thus an aversion to this multi-layered dark fougère was established and a - in retrospect erroneous - judgement was established: Azzaro was old-fashioned, stuffy, somehow yesterday. It took some reading and careful re-testing over the past years to appreciate the classic Azzaro as what it certainly is: one or even THE classic Aromatic Fougère, the epitome of sophisticatedly balanced green-woody spiciness from 20 ingredients.

Amber fever is different in almost everything and yet in some ways comparable or even noticeably related, even if: more contemporary, more pleasing. The flacon is similar (same shape, color variation) and presents the rather independent Amber Fever as a flanker of its oldschool predecessor from 1978. A slightly bevelled, angular 70's box - the cars around 1980 lost all their curves and became angular for some years. What was once progressive is now retrofuturistic.

There is little overlap in the list of ingredients: Clary sage is present in both, though not dominant. Both show similarity in their spiciness. Whereas the spiciness of Amber Fever is largely based on a restrained incense at a moderate temperature without pungency, the classic spiced up more broadly and sharply with caraway, cardamom, juniper, lavender, moss, cedar and aniseed. The old one had more edges as a result; it irritates my nose even in the top and heart notes with a certain juniper-like cumininess and weediness. Whereas Amber Fever appears round and soft from beginning to end without appearing limp or even too pleasing.

The Amber Fever did not need long or detouring introductions to conquer me. It complements its tart spiciness with minimal sweetness and the elegant depth that cocoa notes provide in combination with delicate veils of incense that work their way to the foreground. The slightly greenish Muscat sage is embraced by fresh cocoa notes and gives the whole thing a dark, warm note from the start, which I find to be dark and warm, and prevents it from slipping into contemporary sweetness: only a hint of sweetness accompanies the tart cocoa and the ambered incense.

The classic Azzaro I prefer to imagine a businessman or scientist at work, while the Amber Fever is more likely to perform in the evening and in more intimate settings. Both are more likely to be in the adult programme. I see Amber Fever as a cuddly scent, as a sympathetic and alluring means for going out. It has a pleasantly moderate silage and acceptable durability.

This Azzaro flanker was apparently only distributed in a limited way (why???). Therefore interested people should probably not hesitate too long. Also the estimation of the esteemed colleagues here at Parfumo indicate that the scent (the few who had it under the NAse) is pleasing. Which is why - in view of the feverish water that is hardly ever found in perfume shops and that was probably not even marketed in Germany - an Internet blind purchase could be considered.

I see his areas of application more in the area of social or intimate gatherings than for work. Due to a certain heaviness and density, it probably fits better in autumn and winter than in summer. I just wore it on rainy summer days in my home office and enjoyed its warming comfort. I can imagine Amber Fever on younger people much better than the classic Azzaro. On women who don't like to appear sweet or flowery, I would like it too. In short: a great fragrance!

There are some things you would never have thought of without perfume. The import and (never regretted) use of this wonderfully light, unobtrusive and natural-looking colognes are definitely among them. First of all, one would probably never have come across the water without perfume. If you would have met it by chance in a shop in Spain, you would not have noticed its monstrous container (750ML slim plastic bottle in scouring milk style) and would not have wanted to own it

But now there is perfume. And now you're loitering around here reading. And discovering things that are suggested to you by knowledgeable nose-and-writing artists. You lose your inhibitions. If the first order from Spain was successful and the contents were not disappointing, the second is much easier. If you brought a liter bottle of classic Spanish light water into your house for the first time - in my case it was the wonderful 'Agua Lavanda' by Puig, additionally recommended by the hint that this was Frank Sinatra's favorite perfume... - and if you took care of the decanting bottles first, the second step in this direction (in my case it was: Varon Dandy, liter glass bottle of a spicy classic brew) follows almost by itself

Heno de Parva was the third monster bottle to move in with me - and its contents are currently used even more often than the much appreciated Agua Lavanda. The two are quite similar. Here and there a herbaceous, fresh and tangy lavender dominates, but not too sharp or even bitter. The Heno de Parvia offers, according to its name ('hay from Parvia' - a city in Asturias, northern Spain), a light, mildly spicy hay note. In addition to the lavender, this probably also refers to the unspecified wood and moss notes of the soon to be resonating cologne base. Whereby also this base remains bright and summery.

This light water, produced since 1905 by Perfumeria Gal (which was taken over by Puig in 1995), is particularly pleasing after the short, alcohol-fresh lavender opening with a very subtle, elegant or urban-looking touch of rose (rose geranium), which delicately accompanies the lavender from the heart note onwards. This composition looks, what you can hardly believe at this ridiculous price, quite natural; at least in my nose it is by no means synthetic or cheap.

The whole thing is only very weakly, almost watery concentrated. Sillage and shelf life are therefore very manageable. After a moderately radiant 10-minute prelude, 2-3 hours of skin-tight scent remain. I very much like to use Heno de Parvia Cologne, sprayed generously on arms and chest, before sports. It gives the steaming body a discreet, natural-looking scent cover, which seems more elegant to me than any aquat and guarantees a pleasant, lavender-like freshness.

The future belongs to Spanish light water in terms of climate change anyway, as some farsighted perfume pioneers have recently realised here. But even climate change deniers can be assured: menopause is coming, one way or another. And refreshing colognes are also better suited for this than heavy perfumes or sillage monsters. Agua Lavanda has, by the way, since it contains 71% alcohol, the potential additional benefit that it can be used as a disinfectant (filling in shopping backpacks and in the car). Which will probably not work as reliably virus-killing as it used to be with the 64% alcohol of Heno de Parvia.

Anyone who can still get their hands on this fine cooling fragrance in the more presentable glass flacon will consider themselves lucky. Otherwise, the monster plastic plastic bottle is a comforting solution, with the remark that plastic bottles are even superior to glass in terms of their eco-balance due to their lower weight from a delivery distance of approx. 400 kilometres. I now refill these giant containers with used 75ML glass deodorant bottles with a screw-on spray head in this way, which is now being recycled. And I spend the few free minutes that are occasionally left over from being a perfumer by thinking about how to design beautiful DIY labels for the growing collection of beautiful, round, retrained 75ML flacons.

With the herb-fresh lavender dominance and the only minimal rose note over hay or moss, this cologne can be used by people of all sexes and ages. With its discreet silage it will not bother anyone, anywhere. I find it performs most valuable services in hot weather.

Refreshes not only for a short time,
No, you'll be ready in hours.
Oh Isobaum, oh Limobaum,
Can you please me very much?
Such an evergreen can also be sung off-season. Because for my taste, this pine scent fits better into the warmer season. With its slightly sweetish coriander lime green, this really special 4711, at least in my nose, has no Christmassy spice homeliness whatsoever.

After his all around fine Muscat Lime and his all-season Cologne with sparkling tangerines over cardamom&artificial wood, this forest scent is the third etude by avant-garde perfumer Geza Schön for the traditional house 4711: My nose is more Czerny than Chopin. For the fragrance is pleasing, but shows little development. Interesting and solid, original and wearable. Nobody has to kneel down here

Without Moss nix los, is the complaint of countless forest friends who are allergic to the (anti-allergic) oak moss bans of IFRA. There is definitely no moss in here. What is going on instead?

The forest awakening begins with a sweetish green prelude, in which only a subtle bitter orange (and for me no perceptible pepper) resonates. However, the prelude already exudes quite a limo vibe: a well-chilled Fanta, pimped with a pinch of coriander, in the middle of the Black Forest. This looks sporty, not old-fashioned. So more a nice blueberry pancake at the Grünhütte, than Grandhotel Bühlerhöhe or Traube in Tonbach. The fragrance seems young and has NOTHING in common with the original 4711.

If you go deeper into the forest, the green scents usually turn mossy, earthy, shady; possibly slightly musty, vetiver-rooted. In any case: heavy. But none of this happens here. Everything remains very bright, light, like a sun-drenched plantation of young fir trees, whose minimal resinousness is permanently drowned out by sweet, flowery orange lemonade.

With some certainty, no very small amounts of Iso E Super should provide for this silvery light, iridescent lining of the orange fir. Especially during sports, on steaming skin, this fir scent reminds me of this all-purpose weapon of modern aroma chemistry, which provides scents with aura and radiation.

The (quite muscular) overall package seems to me to be quite original. This kind of cologne was probably not available at 4711 or elsewhere - as far as I can see. It is without doubt refreshing. And absolutely modern, because somehow it's recognizably synthetic; but not at all unpleasantly plastic. In this sense, 4711 Scandinavian Woods occupies a niche in the field of refreshing waters.

It also lasts much longer than a classic cologne, which definitely justifies the generic name Colonia Intense (6-8 hours). After all, these 'Awakening Scandinavian Forests' have considerably more ingredients in the list of ingredients than the other, usually narrower 4711's. I can still easily feel coriander, but I can hardly perceive rose, osmanthus and jasmine as such, but at best as a thin veil of floridity. The same is true of incense clouds that are at best subliminal, homeopathically involved.

Due to a certain one-dimensionality in the scent and the aforementioned artificiality, it will probably be used rather rarely in my case, despite its Tannen-Cologne setting. I wouldn't want to do without it in my collection, though.
To add the last verse of the popular Christmas carol:

O fir tree, o fir tree,
your dress is trying to teach me something!
The hope and constancy
gives comfort and strength at all times!

We want to attest to his endurance. His Sillage is strong for a cologne, moderate for a full perfume. Yes, a sprayer gives strength through freshness. Hope and comfort? He's too fresh and superficial to cuddle, I think. No great forest symphony resounds here in my ears, but a cheerfully late modern arrangement of 'Oh Tannenbaum, Iso Superbaum' with a sprig of coriander and a few flowers nicely rounded off

So Geza Schöns third strike for the traditional Cologneolognists might have what it takes to become a classic of synth pop. In any case, I am looking forward to further modernization experiments from 4711, in a spirit of expectation and adventure