Moritz1988

Since I have never tried a fragrance with the banana theme before, I was extremely excited about this new release from L'Artisan Parfumeur. And what shall I say in view of the name Bana Banana: You want banana, you get banana...and that is a whole, intensely fragrant banana plant.

If I had imagined the banana before rather walking in a tropical-sweet, somewhat densely sultry direction (I could also have simply read the complete fragrance pyramyde), the banana banana (please repeat very quickly three times) is dressed in a very present iris-powder veil. So anyone who expects an obtrusive, sticky-sweet art banana can be reassured. The iris and other slightly floral hints, which are probably due to the jasmine, take away some of the authenticity of the fruit, but it remains consistently recognisable and dominant as a medium-ripe, possibly even slightly green banana. Only after quite a while does the tonka bean begin to speak tentatively, without the leading banana, however, saying goodbye to me.

Bana Banana fits perfectly into spring for me and can unfold its full strength on medium warm days. Since banana scents are anything but mainstream, this perfume should also be extremely creative and individual. In terms of sillage and durability, the fragrance is only mediocre, but is also well wearable indoors. Which must be clear to you: You definitely smell like banana. Whether you like it or not, you have to know for yourself. I personally like the scent, but would get on my nerves if I wore it too often. But on relaxed days, when you don't take yourself too seriously (and maybe you don't have an important business appointment or job interview coming up), you definitely know how to delight yourself and the gang of monkeys around you with this scent.

With such a name the interest of the inclined perfume lover is almost inevitably aroused. Since I am also a big fan of sweet fragrances and also the vanilla can win so much, had absolutely a bottling her.

What surprised me at the very first test was that this fragrance - unlike what you would expect from Initio and its name - comes across as rather monothematic. For me Absolute Aphrodiasac remains a vanilla scent from beginning to end. The Bibergeil (which caused me some concern before) proves to be harmless and only adds a discreet animal note to the top note of the fragrance. Also the white flowers can be guessed at most.

Thus the vanilla always remains in the lead in the further process, although in the opening hour the leather also flashes out again and again shyly, before it then completely disappears. The dominant vanilla is a smooth, feather-soft and at no time scratchy feel-good vanilla, which gets rid of its initial animal note, but rather tame and cuddly innocent than seductive. Even the musk, which gradually reveals itself, no longer lends a dramatic twist to this pleasantly sweet overall constellation.

As far as the cotton candy mentioned many times here is concerned, yes, I too can recognise it, although for me the association of a velvety plush vanilla bed remains clearly more concise.

So is this - as the name implies - the unbridled seducer whose attraction one (or woman) succumbs to without resistance? I don't think so. What you get with Absolute Aphrodiasac, however, is an inviting, gently attracting vanilla scent that invites you to snuggle up and makes you want to spend nice and cosy hours together, especially in dirty weather.

After I liked Fico di Amalifi from the same house very much, I started to test another summer scent candidate from the blue series of Acqua di Parma.

Sprayed on, a really very authentic orange note emerges, which is accompanied by some denzent tangerine notes in the background. This is less a ripe, sweet orange than a slightly greenish, citrus-scented Mediterranean fruit still hanging on the organ tree. For me, the association of a relaxed roaming through a densely populated organ grove on a mid-warm spring day somewhere on the Italian campo results directly from this.

As natural and summery-refreshing as the orange may seem, it evaporates after about an hour on my skin and my spring walk comes to an abrupt end. What remains is a Petitgrain skin scent that is all too bitter and bitter for me, which is almost imperceptible after another 1.5 hours or so.

Arancia di Capri, for example, certainly deserves the credit for its really successful unsweet, authentic orange note, which should not miss its refreshing, never penetrating effect, especially at high summer temperatures. But in view of the durability and projection, which is extremely disappointing even for a citric scent, and the heart/base note after the initially beautiful 45 orange minutes, which is not very appealing for my taste, the scent does not exceed a mediocre rating for me. With a similarly weak performance, Fico di Amalfi is for me the much more beautiful and extraordinary fragrance

For me, no fragrance comes as close to a real, sweet-scented dessert as my favourite gourmand Tom Ford Noir Extreme. Sprayed on and it seems as if you are carrying an etrem delicious, albeit extremely sumptuous (and sugar-rich!) pudding vanilla caramel dessert with you all day long.

What fascinates me so much about this Tom Ford as a lover of sweet and gourmand fragrances is its uniqueness. So at least I can't think of a smell that's nearly comparable. While you can definitely see out of the crowd with this fragrance, in my eyes it preserves an extremely cuddly, inviting and soft and cosy feel-good aura around the wearer. Of course, this Tom Ford requires an olfactory openness towards sweet treats, but never manages to be penetrating or cheap-sweet. Compared to many of his siblings from the Private Blend series, I also find this one to be significantly less polarizing and yet of equivalent hpher quality as far as the ingredients are concerned.

The fragrance remains relatively linear over the period of its above-average shelf life. It simply smells wonderfully of vanilla, a caramel note, nutmeg and some (discreetly used) further harmomic oriental spice notes. After the opening, Noir Extreme also notices that the Kulfi dessert is a milk dessert. The sweet, milky note is not disturbing, but gives the fragrance additional authenticity and creates the illusion of actually having such a dessert on your plate.

Conclusion: Noir Extreme manages to make my mouth water every time and to create an extremely pleasant scenttaura around me, which also attracts the attention of my fellow human beings. By its concurrent exceptionality, durability and creativity 10 out of 10 points

First of all, I have to say in front of my comment that years ago and in the course of two monkey stays lasting several months, I fell all the more, immortally in love with the Argentine capital Buenos Aires. Along with this unbroken love for the Argentine capital, it went to a brew almost ubiquitous in the Rio de la Plata region: the mate - which, because of its bitterness, can often cause the funniest facial distortions in European palates during a first tasting. Of course we are talking about the real leaves of the Mate plant, chopped and then smoked (which by the way belongs to the cactuses) and in a so-called Calabaza as an infusion through a metal straw drunk hot drink. The raw material for this drink, which in my opinion bears little resemblance to the Mate soft drinks that have become fashionable here in Germany, is yerba mate. Since my first stay in Argentina, the daily enjoyment of the Mate in its traditional version has been an indispensable part of my life and accompanies me through every day with its touching, concentration-promoting and at the same time invigorating effect. Why am I telling you this? Well, Mate is one of the three main notes of the new release from Louis Vuitton.

So, after this detailed prologue, we finally come to the fragrance Cactus Garden to be discussed: My expectation to get a portable mate in fragrance form was unfortunately disappointed. After I had sprayed the filling on my arm, I deliberately smelled alternately at the sprayed skin area, at my Calabaza with the freshly infused mate and for safety's sake even at my current 1kg package of the Yerba Mate (Nobleza Gaucha, my favourite Argentine yerba). Unfortunately I could not find any similarities. What I get from Cactus Garden instead is a faint, only very close, citric note in the first half hours, which barely hits me from my socks and quietly reminds me of the better (and much cheaper) Artisan Pure by John Varvatos

But you are wrong about the fragrance if you judge it purely by its boring top note. In the drydown Cactus Garden develops much more beautifully, and even if still no mate, the lemongrass with bergamot admixture appears more and more clearly. Whatever that may be, it seems to me that the Sillage - after it was barely perceptible in the top note - now unfolds much better and the scent can now, even if weakly, not only be perceived when sniffing directly at the sprayed area.

Nevertheless, it's all in all a very unspectacular and fleeting unisex spring/summer scent for the price, which smells pleasantly bergamottig-lemongrass and won't bother anyone, but in my opinion neither offers anything new, nor is it able to portray what's being commanded in a way that somehow stands out. The shy fresh citrus lemongrass note lasts about four hours on the skin before Cactus Garden fades away like many citric scents in a discreetly sweet woody skin note. The search for the olfactory essence of my liquid life elixir, the mate, must therefore continue.