Notausgang

Creamy, plush, powdery, soft, sweet - a warm, purring fragrance. Civet is definitely inspired by vintage classics, but interpreted in a modern way. I can barely make out individual notes - it's a nice blend of soft florals, well-rounded spices, woody incense and a hint of orange. There's hardly anything animalic about Civet, apart from the impression of clean and cozy fur.

The fragrance is a tribute to the warm chypre genre like "Femme (1989) (Eau de Toilette) | Rochas" and "Mitsouko (Eau de Parfum) | Guerlain" . In these, I find echoes of the way Civet unfolds on my skin - it's the warm, powdery, creamy aspects taken to extremes, the resins that Mitsouko so rarely shows on me, the fruits boiled down to a homey jam, all in the form of a soft, enveloping powder.

At the end of a branch, gently shaken by the wind, a bud opens in slow motion, unfolding its silky soft petals one by one with an inviting gesture. They are a pale pink color and the morning mist immediately settles on the fresh bloom.
Their fragrance is deeper than one would expect: delicate citrus notes, the impression of warm magenta, a powdery violet framed by the woody and earthy notes of the garden in which this flowering tree stands.

At first, I was put off by the impression of a "generic" mainstream scent that seemed to consist only of a standard spritz of intermingled florals backed by citrus. After a few minutes, however, it evolves into something more profound and reveals its chypre heart.
Still, it leaves me cold - intellectually, I can confirm its kinship with Mitsouko, but it doesn't evoke feelings in me like "Mitsouko (Eau de Parfum) | Guerlain" or even "Civet | Zoologist".
Pretty, but somehow hollow like the bones of this little bird.

In the evenings, when I feel trapped in the city and want to dream of exploring mountains, lush fields and forests, I apply a few drops of Silvestre Lavender. Bravanariz doesn't call this a perfume, they call it a "familiar cologne" and I think they have good reason for that. There is hardly anything "perfumey" about this fragrance. Instead, it feels like a tincture of raw ingredients gathered on a hike along the Mediterranean.

I can hardly make out individual notes, the impression is quite homogeneous. Lavender, orange and herbs are immediately present on my skin and have a slightly bitter note, which I know from essential oils. This comes across very naturally.
Straightforward, with little development, "Silvestre (Lavender) | Bravanariz" makes for a pleasant refreshment for an hour or two and is slightly softer, less citrusy than the original "Silvestre | Bravanariz" . I doubt you "need" both, but they are both nice in their own way. I like them equally, but prefer the original on my partner and the lavender version on myself.

Don't expect the scent to last long, or hesitate to use a decent amount (when it arrives, Silvestre comes as a splashfakon with an optional spray pump that you can screw on top) - the 200ml bottle is really affordable. The projection during this period is fine and I've heard from friends how nice and Mediterranean I smell with it.

Natural, pleasant, refreshing, so I would summarize both "Silvestre | Bravanariz" and "Silvestre (Lavender) | Bravanariz".

Bee is the scent of the fuzzy fur of tiny honeycomb workers tending to their elegant, lofty queen.
Soft little animals crowd me from all sides. A continuous buzz fills the air, making my body tingle. There is a hint of floral sweetness in the air - the bees are returning from their day outdoors, pollen clinging to their fur. The honey is tucked away inside the hive in waxy, fragrant combs.

This scent has everything it takes to make me happy - resinous warmth, beeswax (I have a whole block of it at home and it's an absolutely intoxicating scent), soft musk, floral and vanilla sweetness balanced by some acidity (which I assume comes from orange/ginger/labdanum). It's extremely round, with great depth and as if from an alien world. Beautiful.

The only problem I've encountered is that this scent is so flawless and self-contained that other everyday scents strongly conflict with it, creating a disharmony.

So presumably this is the scent of the queen bee after all, who makes herself comfortable and is cared for by her loyal subjects with royal jelly - everything around her corresponds to her ideas and wishes, there is no room for disturbing things in her hive.

The first few times I wore Musk Deer, I spent a few days in a weaver's workshop. The whole place was filled with the warm, cozy scent of sheep's wool and old wooden furniture. Musk Deer, with its spicy, soft warmth, fit right in.

It starts with a nice cardamom note that lasts a surprisingly long time, about two hours, giving the scent a warm, enveloping feeling. After that, there's not much development - Musk Deer goes straight into a melange of resinous warmth, creamy woods and musk with soft hints of fur.

What makes this scent so enchanting to me is its suggestion of familiarity. I am enveloped in the comforting cocoon of a scent that stays close to the skin and is perceived primarily by the wearer. This would be an excellent signature scent - familiar but individual, spicy but not overbearing, gentle but with a certain depth.