MonsieurTest

If violets are considered to be the little man's roses, plums can be seen as the down-to-earth sisters of the more ethereal and sensitive peaches. If you swallow that and read on, we'd like to explain 'The Scent of Gold' as a noble Italian gourmand answer to Mitsouko. Their filigree Art Nouveau flacon has been transformed into a solid metal container, the delicate moss peach into a powerful cinnamon-violet plum, and the finely woven Guerlain base into a stable, gourmand amber vanilla. Comparisons are helpful. They profile any objects and sensory impressions better than solo portraits. But this comparison was far-fetched (don't have any alternative plums in the house or brain...).

We are dealing here with a sweet, but reasonably well-articulated plum-violet & wood scent. The top notes and heart notes are slightly synthetic and therefore rather nice than beautiful. But its base is a warm, creamy tobacco-patchouli-amber vanilla. Which makes this fragrance altogether a (even for non-sugar spoiled perfumes) well wearable one. This Scent of Gold is therefore a possible, better substitute for Empörio Armanis '(Not) Stronger with you'; for that unfortunately often encountered, contourless, flabby sweetness

So, now the children are in bed, driven out of the text by sweet-bashing and awkward phrasing. So let's get to the exciting question for advanced and insiders: How do the new perfumes actually get their names? We sometimes ask ourselves this question. And one wonders: Do the manufacturers throw dice? Do they employ house poets? Do they use hallucinogenic drugs?

With new brands, it was often enough to add the name of the brand plus a gender: e.g. Horst pour Homme, or Woglinde Women. Untimely, the manufacturers still limit themselves to 2 genders, whereas 57 of them are now in circulation. We expect to see some innovative gender niche names here in the coming years (Rainer Maria for those converted from X to Y, Kim-Leo for undecided, etc.).

But for now to the state of affairs and the results of our research on the secret files (behind closed curtains) before the bottle baptisms. How do names like this one come about? The smell of gold? Is that when the inflation-phobic perfumer spent weeks sniffing at his gold bars in the cellar and then composed this plum-cinnamon-violet amber orgy? No. It wasn't like that!

If you do research in Rüsselsheim in the well-known sanatorium for deserving perfumers or those exhausted by nose-burnthrough, or if you occasionally listen in the Fragrances-Bar in Berlin's Ritz-Carlton at the regulars' table of highly paid perfume creators, what the creators of the perfumes tell about fragrance baptisms, you will learn - amazing things. Monstrous. You'd never guess it without research
Fragrance composers prefer to name their works after perfume authors

Because their texts are - logical! - their home cooking, a must read for all perfumers. Comments, statements and blogs, even the most minimal aperture nuances and flacon positioning of the photographers, adore and fear the perfume creators. Parfumo words carry weight here! Punctuation mistakes or photo colour nuances decide about fame and money or EdeKa (end of career). That's why perfumers often want to name their freshly hedged, nameless babies after the most important perfumo/a/s. The history of these successful and unsuccessful dedications is long; here are just tiny episodes from it.

When Caron planned her second men's fragrance as a classic, it was soon clear that it could only be named after our two-legged fragrance encyclopaedia with the face of Hölderlin, Yatagan. The well-deserved Turandot is the dedicatee of several fragrances. Often, however, according to the never-ending complaints in Rüsselsheim and the Fragrances Bar, planned dedications fail. Leimbacher and Pudelbonzo should have been dedicated dozens of fragrances; the same applies to the mischievous Hasi and the neroli and linguistic genius Fittleworth. But for years now, the marketing people have always intervened and prevented these more than deserved name donations with their veto: too bulky. Allegedly not marketable for the people of the stammers and moans.

FvSpee, grandmaster of long commentary and fine nuances, has - nobody knew how until now - become the namesake of a leading detergent brand in the East. There is no doubt that these extremely useful products smell very decent and solid. But it is still unexplored, which marketing genius was able to make the old maxim of the eastern economy, 'overtaking without catching up' come true for once. Guerlain like Marly, monastery water manufacturers and niche perfumers came too late with their christening wishes. The name was already taken. Since FvSpee, with its own Christian humility, is not vain enough to sing the praises of the millions of products bearing his name in detail here, we have the desideratum of olfactory research.

Of course, according to our research, the most considered dedicatee is our dear colleague Gold. Her fame outshines everything. Hardly any perfume house has yet decided not to dedicate a tribute to her. Hardly a well-assorted perfume cabinet is not at the same time a shrine to her homage. Parfumo soon boasts 1000 fragrances that carry her name around the world. These statistics (not trophies or perfumo points) show what counts in the end. Speaking with Hölderlin's 'souvenir': "But what remains, donate bottle baptisms".

I like to wear Trussardo's 'Scent of Gold' occasionally (in weather conditions up to 25.3°C) - and, as befits the occasion, I always think of the meritorious writing and educational work that the honored dedicatee has been doing for years (but also many others here, who for many reasons were not considered by the perfume creators and distributors by name).

By the way, I would have suspected that Gold personally (who of course can't and doesn't want to accept the hundreds of dedication requests ALL) finds this scent a bit too sweet and too synthetic. That, as everyone knows, she prefers roses to violets. But as I descended to the deepest statement about 'Scent of Gold' during my research on the fragrance and the mysterious naming process, I found Gold's early statement about the fragrance at the bottom of this page, in the deepest mine gallery. Which we are happy to promote to the top again here:
"Patchouli, cinnamon, plums, lots of amber vanilla, not new, but harmonious, soft, cuddly, enveloping. My candidate for the winter?"

Finally, the big question remains: What did the dear gold wear in the winter of 2019 and 2020? Was the candidate Trussardi - rated an astonishing 8.5 in her primaries - elected (often)?

Edit: Inquiries now want to know if 'Mouchoir de Monsieur' is a dedication of one of his favourite houses to Monsieur Teste's handkerchief. No, he's not that old yet. Some younger dedicatory fragrances ('Bravo Monsieur' by Ganso, or 'Monsieur Dada 18' by the Krigler house, and also 'Monsieur le Prince Elegant' by Princesse Marina de Bourbon) can be understood as dedication requests. Because of other criticism and homage obligations I have not yet come to taste these dedication waters. And I ask myself at the princess, if behind it is the oldest high nobility or a fraudulent Bourbon-Whisky..

Well, you eager Emporio slayers, you asked for it. Your specimens of Stronger with you are apparently among the most widely distributed. They are piling up at my place - and after some hesitation I finally got them, bravely hiding the diabetes warnings in the pyramid up here and at the colleagues below, and finally getting on my case.

Actually, I really like Armani as an understated fashion designer. But his Emporio textiles seem to me to be quite loud and logo-printed in the last years. Actually, I associate nice memories with Armani fragrances; a lot of good and likeable things: the wonderfully fresh, old eau pour homme, the classic ladies' chypre of the 1980s, the widespread, pleasing code for guys that was quite popular for a few years. Or the flowery powdery Emporio for her. In between, there were certainly still many Armani fragrances that somehow passed me by; you have other things to do. So I don't really feel like tearing an Armani fragrance away.

Actually I have nothing at all against something sweeter or gourmand scents. Occasionally, I like to wear one of those. If only for a change. Especially if the sweet juices contain cardamom and cocoa or a nice vanilla. So I could've done something with Stronger... and me

BUT: What sticks on my wrist and rises into my nostrils is aaaaarg sweet and also undefined in taste. Top note? Sugar shock I can hardly make out the cardamom, which I hold in high esteem, it is drowning in the candied cotton candy clouds. The same applies to the chestnut, which is almost desperately sought after on the wrist, drowning in a - not particularly well-articulated - sugar vanilla. On the second test run I think I can sniff out a discreet chestnut after about two hours - but maybe this is just an effect of neuro-linguistic autosuggestion?

Presumably, disdainful mass market research drives the IFF (International Flavors & Fragrances), the American licensed fragrance giants that produce and distribute the Emporio-Armani fragrances, to such sweet realms. Sad. The Armani perfumes, on the other hand, as far as I understand it, are produced and marketed by L'Oréal. Poor Giorgio has a lot of licensing contracts to sign... Hopefully he'll be able to design his chic jackets and stylish interiors then

Actually, I find the smell unbearable. But towards the base note, after a good 2 hours, it becomes halfway tolerable for its remaining duration. But even back there it remains synthetic and spongy-sweet. This is also no reason to put on such a fragrance. For a barely bearable base, I don't have to go through the candy floss purgatory, which is at the beginning here and lets its hellish rice pudding simmer quite long. Luckily, durability and projection are moderate.

Actually, I like Armani. But when I feel like a nice sweet men's fragrance, I still prefer to go for Guerlain's Homme Ideal (with almond instead of chestnut as backbone), Bogart's 'Silver Scent Deep' (nut-vanilla) or Trussardi's 'Scent of Gold', which opens with cinnamon plums and recognisable violets and closes with vanilla tobacco. Although Mugler's fashion was certainly more garish than Armani's designs, his unquestionably loud, gourmand A*Men flankers smell far more tasteful than this Emporio (empör-mio) Stronger aberration.

Tighter with you? Than with other candy? Because you come up with the name Armani, which stands for style, the master of garish, greedy colours and cuddly cuts and you appear so garish and vulgar? Probably this disappoints me, as well as your completely failed fragrance name, and perhaps makes me rate you a note stricter than if xy had thrown you on the market as 'Candied Vanilla Chestnut'. My recollection of the great and distinctive old Armani fragrances that deserved every production continuation and sample distribution creates a drop height. You have fully exploited them here.

Experiments are now being carried out in the garden with the Stronger than You test tubes. Perhaps they can be used to set up ecologically correct ant resettlement projects or something similar? Hopefully the elegant chestnut-coloured squirrels will forgive me for this.

The One by Dolce & Gabbana is one of the highest (and most frequently) rated men's fragrances at Parfumo. I can understand that halfway: because it's undoubtedly an all around pleasing, at the beginning gently green-fresh, sweet orange blossom-cardamom-amber-tobacco flatterer. Occasionally I like to wear the softie. And I find it to be finely velvety and warm. But there's something missing. Backbone! And I don't mean primarily that it won't last forever (The One EdP is okay there). I mean that I feel like I'm sinking into The One, like I'm sinking into a sofa that's too soft. There are missing edges, bones - a resistance halt.

And now, as you would expect from Bogarts, it's available in Silver Scent Deep. For all its orange blossom and vanilla sweetness and softness, it also has a framework for leaning against it. The only slightly supporting, by no means prominent rose geranium and nutmeg nuances in the heart note perform such services; but above all the very beautiful, rather rarely used and here infinitely long lasting walnut. Which soon begins to resonate in a restrained manner. And which then works its way forward more and more and can last for a very long working day. Nut plus tonka in the vanilla base note make this fragrance a treat, which not only grates liquorice, but also struts it as squared timber into a stable framework.

Silver Scent Deep thus demonstrates that the Parisian specialist factory for powerful fragrances can not only produce its famous green-spicy stew-with-style classics, but also knows how to prepare a proper dessert. As always with the Bogarts, the flacons with strange plastic spray-hoods look rather retro-futuristic. To my taste, these things are almost so out of style that they should be really great in - revalued as camp.

But the sprayers do what they have to do: they release powerful bursts of fragrance from this very nutritious dessert. Which - as one would expect from the house of Bogart - rather resemble a voluminous ladle full of finely seasoned flummery than petits fours arranged in tiny pieces with tweezers. But the recipe and the ingredients are good. The composition is harmonious.

Silver Scent Deep does not smell silvery anywhere in my nose (the bottle is rightly black...), but it is deep and creamy. And it gets better and finer as the drydown progresses: one night and a shower after the application, my wrist still smells of a sweet and tangy hazelnut. At this point, only Zero is left of Dolce&Garnichts The One. He's off early, he lacks the necessary bones.

In my opinion, Silver Scent Deep can be worn by anyone who feels like rich sweetness, and the powerful orange blossom and creamy vanilla-nut cream will not interfere with their diet planning. For my taste, something like this is more suitable in the evening and not at too high temperatures. With Bogart's endurance, the morning after, highly pleasant scents remain on the skin or sheets. If sweet is to be sinned against, this nibbling is worth a try.

The traditional house 4711 has been offering a wide range of light Cologne waters with a variety of fragrances for a good decade. Whereby in the colognes of the Acqua Colonia series usually only 2 or 3 notes are combined. Minimalism instead of complexity. By no means does this path have to be flat or boring, as the wonderful Lime-Nutmeg Cologne Acqua Colonia demonstrates. But here now it's all about lemon plus ginger - and I don't like the result so much.

I like ginger on fish, with vegetables and in tea. Lemon in tea, on vegetables, on fish and in gin? I love it! You would think that these two fresheners combined would make people look neat and fresh in summer. But the result is not terrible. But it is not great either. The lemon reminds my nose (and what is still hanging there northwards) of some cleaning agents. And the ginger seems a bit muggy and rather dull than fresh and hot.
Granted: Strong lemon top notes are often problematic for me, mandarins, oranges, limes and yuzu elicit a yuchu from me more easily.

For example, L'Eau du Caporal, Parfumo's highest rated Artisan perfumer, is very rarely used by me, because it takes 3 hours of beating before the sharp, aggressive and persistent lemon has calmed down, and the very beautiful and well-balanced base does its job for another 4 hours. Also the Spanish lemon bomb classic of 1912, the Agua de Colonia Concentrada of the house of Alvarez Gomez, opens similarly massive - but does not last as long as the heavy water of the French Force de frappe. I have been admiring it more as a curiosity than using it regularly.

In contrast to these lemons, 4711 ginger lemon is much weaker. It only projects discreetly and it only lasts for about 2 hours close to the skin. In this sense, a simple cologne without the endurance that the cardamom tangerine or lime nutmeg, which Geza Schön made for the same house as Acqua Colonia, has trained (synthesized underneath).

4711 Lemon-Ginger is dispensable as cologne for me. Or should you try it (inspired by the confused ideas of another nuclear power president) in salad or tea for internal disinfection?

Jicky, the modern milestone by Guerlain (1889) still enchants today. Its many ingredients are perfectly blended, the Guerlain base provides eternal delights. The Tabac Cologne is a German grandson of this grande dame. Born in hard post-war years into poorer circumstances, Tabac carries these noble genes and also shows them in features of his phenotype.
The many tones, woods and spices of the fragrance pyramid have a well-tempered effect here, as in Bach's fugues. We listen to harsh fundamental tones and soft-sweet middle voices. Everything is straighter, more concise than in Jicky. Tabac is more like a piano fugue, Jicky is a mass in B minor. Tabac is a bit more pleasing because the animalism is almost completely missing. Due to its strong oak and carnations, it tends more to the masculine side than Jicky, which in turn is slightly sweeter and more vanilla in its wonderful base note reverberation. Both offer a good deal of lavender. For scent connoisseurs with ears and a feeling for language: TAbAk (two dark A's), JIckY (two light I-LAute). Tabac, we claim, is a classically muted version of Jicky, transposed by a fifth into the masculine and impoverished.
Probably the ingredients are slightly less noble in the post-war work of Mäurer & Wirtz, composed between ruins, than in Guerlain's Opus Magnum. Both have since had to be reformulated. Both have survived this with dignity.
Both are masterpieces of densely woven, pastel-coloured scented carpets. While Jicky was an important act of cultural self-assertion of the French, who were defeated by Germany in 1870/71, we want to attribute a similar function to Tabac EdC two generations later. 7 years after the end of the war, even before the football miracle of Bern, this gentle, elegant, philanthropic creation marks a tactful step back into the zone of the good, the true and the beautiful.
I myself, a generation later, gave tabac to my dad in my youth. I stole some from his dressing table as a teenager. Soon I wore it myself for 444 days before it was replaced by the then fashionable aquatic and disco-orientals. Then Tabac was uncool for a few decades - like bell-bottoms and striped sweaters and much more, which have since then experienced two Renaissances.
Suddenly, BY SURPRISE, a few years ago, the good news reached me stereophonically from two (but unconnected?) channels: Tabac is celebrating its comeback! A renaissance of the Oak-Clove-Lavender-u.v.m. Symphony began. The Good News reached me from the perfume lovers' scene of connoisseurs, here at Parfumo, see below! And at the same time, softly whispered, then swelling, in the other ear from branches of my kinship, well-connected in circles of the hipster and artist high nobility in Prenzlauer Berg: Tabac original is VERY good and pretty cool. These in circles are, as an influenza, decisive for the spread of new trends. Recently, they consider a whiff of Tabac EdC as an admission ticket. The reasons are obvious (see above) or better: in the nose and brain stem - of course the cerebrum also comes into play, otherwise we wouldn't be writing here. Because only your cerebrum can read and arrange everything else!
Tabac is always effective and convincing: from the office to the Berghain, because even there it overcomes the bouncer's famously stern nose - but be careful, at 7 a.m. after-hours please have a spray. This EdC with the power of a common EdT lasts for 5 hours even with all kinds of dislocations.
From morning to night, from the (N)Oudist beach on Hiddensee to the fine Lake Geneva: Tabac bears witness to taste and style. Above 30°C, preferably not; below minus 5°C, perhaps use more (and put on socks, dear youth, otherwise you'll catch a cold). And the best thing for years of economic crisis: it costs almost nothing! Unbelievable: this icon of good scent costs you only 5% of an Aventus, with which you, because too many and the wrong people wear it, hardly get into the Berghain.

If you meet parents-in-law or grandparents who stayed young at heart and scent you with Cool Water or Dior creations, they might think your Tabac is a bit old-fashioned, well-behaved or simple (reason: the dark middle ages of tabac repression after 1975). The sprightly elders might doubt your trend-security. But this (in their noses) conservative image provides you with invaluable advantages: which caring person entrusts his daughters to lighthearted bride solicitors who smell like raspberry cakes or incense-resin-filled victims of exploded oud medicine labs?
In any case, I would like to make the sincerely meant recommendation to everyone: try Tabac EdC at least three times; and if you like, tell the trend news to 3 people

Note: Because this declaration of love and trend analysis for a commentary is already quite long (and the original version of my commentary exceeded the character limit), an extended allotment garden clubhouse terrace dance floor remix version is now available in my blog. In this Extended Dancefloor & PantRy version you will find there as a bonus valuable tips on aspects of family and garden life ;-)