Petapane

I got the smell between my fingers in the course of a souk purchase. Thanks to Deimos for the fast shipping and the great samples.

Of course I had to test it right away and now I'm seriously thinking about disguising myself as a toilet stone for carnival. I would finally have the right scent, where?

There would certainly be a great danger of confusion for hosts of drunks.

Sounds quite sobering at first sight, aaaber!

Toilet blocks have their right to exist. Without them it would smell considerably worse in some places, that much is certain. Citrus fruits are apparently generally equated with cleanliness and freshness. This seems to be a basic instinct and so you can toss citric freshness into detergents. It's sometimes bad for perfumes, aaaber!

Here we go.
Conversely, this fragrance is a cleansing agent for the skin.
Fresh, clean, clean. Agua Fresca eben.

Whatever he is?
On my skin, unfortunately, non-existent. Even for an eau de toilette, the performance is quite weak. But he performs quite well on clothes. On the skin I can only perceive the lemon-heavy, tangy top note. Then something green and herbaceous appears on the clothes, with juniper dominating.

I will not do the carnival costume because of the mentioned source of danger.

Yes, maybe the purchase will pay off elsewhere. You can save one or two splashes of Agua Fresca on the wardrobe and the dry cleaning.

The smart way to wash!

The year is 1135 BC. A group of brave men, led by King Odysseus, set out on their journey home after a fierce battle for Troy. War drawn. The worst seemed to be overcome, but dangers lay before them that no one could have foreseen.

Well well. My journey has not been 3000 years and nobody will write a book about it. Anyway. As in Homer's epic, I was to be sent on a journey. A journey that would take many years, seemed endless and entailed numerous imponderables.

My journey was in search of the ultimate aquatic. Not so easy when you consider how comprehensively this topic can be interpreted. I limit myself here largely to rough, salty sea scents and ignore classic summer scents.

With many fragrances of this category, which I was able to test, a question arose again and again.

"I wonder if these scents are wearable." I say, why not?
"Yeah, brackish water smells interesting, but as perfume?" Sure!

As long as I feel secure and perfume makes me reminisce - a smile elicits from me and with every sprayer this youngster flames up enthusiasm, as if Christmas morning was coming and the presents are about.

But this should not turn out to be the only adversity of my adventure.

I also met sirens.
In the form of perfumery saleswomen, who whispered all kinds of beguiling things into my ear. And for a short time they managed to cloud my senses.

With Seathalasso, for example. But then I succeeded in freeing myself from the claws of the beast and, stumbling out of the Douglas store, regaining my senses. Algae yes, but too synthetic, too citric, more like an industrial port. I'd rather go to sea. Anchor lifting was also my motto at Toni Gard's Seaside. Sure, it was fresh and summery, but wouldn't do justice to my demands. And a bride in every port? No way.

Continuing the trip a green coast lay before me. Green Irish Tweed. Ingenious companion for autumn, but it doesn't remind me of beach. I guess at some point he'll come into my own collection, too. There was land, but the wrong port. So get back in the boat and get out of Ireland.

I wanted to set the sails and what was missing? The wind! Even Acqua di Portofinos Sail can't change that much. Something one-dimensional and somehow the air was out.

I rowed off and had covered a few miles on the high seas. Land wasn't in sight. I was fishing. Finally there was fish between my gills again, I was emaciated, exhausted, almost starved to death. What species was on the menu? Sel Marin. Delicious, but not quite fresh, the fish.

Despite the refreshment in between I lost my balance at times and fell off the boat. When I lifted myself over the railing again, a smell rose to my nose, I smelled like Santa Eulalias Marinis.
Shelter island Wilde bestie, quickly pulls the teeth

Log entry day 452. I was stranded again, my God. Why me? Well. Land, after all. How the hell did I end up in the Caribbean, anyway? Virgin Island Water. Brilliant. Nevertheless I repair my boat with wood from the coconut palm and throw myself into the current again. I wasn't home, after all.

The principle of chance throws me directly into the arms of Medusa. Medusa has many faces and yet I avoided eye contact. Never look her in the eye, you petrify. A face of Medusa is Silver Mountain Water. If one does not remain vigilant, one loses oneself somewhere in the boredom between heart and base. I almost looked, but then I closed the sack. Not interested.

Then there's Poseidon. Poseidon just doesn't want to disappear into the depths of the sea. No, Poseidon is omnipresent. With Poseidon everyone has to compete and Poseidon becomes a constant companion. He always takes you back to the sea, even if you want to stay dry.
His pseudonym? Acqua di Sale.

Aprospos dry. My mind was set on shore leave again. Recharge your batteries. Stock up on supplies. And that's when I found her. An island I didn't want to get off. Nymph Island. They wanted to keep me there. They bezirsten me. The smells so beguiling. Paradise has a name - Ichnusa.
But I left. Decided against this place. Maybe someday I'll come back, if the budget allows it.

In the meantime, I could no longer count the days at sea. I think I got seasick. I must have seen 3,000 sunrises but I never saw homeland. The morning dawned, a new day dawned and reckoning with another disappointment. Am I dreaming?

*Salina by Laboratorio Olfattivo

Euphoria! Relief! I see land! I call land ho! Nobody hears, I don't care. This is home! I was home.

The heart note is reminiscent of Acqua di Sale. You remember? In contrast to the latter, Salina develops and ventures in coastal areas. The prelude citric and somewhat biting, in between short wood. Then the pure sea water waves high and the vanilla pulsates softly in the base. A closer look almost makes you smell like sunscreen at the sea. The shelf life is worse than with PR's salt water and the silage also flies away more quickly, but the scent is more balanced, due to the variety far less penetrating, even more surprising, holiday-ripe. Kind of absurd. Almost like package tourism in St. Tropez. Expensive doesn't always seem better.

In principle, all the fragrances I've mentioned here have done a very good job on the subject, but so far everyone has lacked magic. The magic of the beach. To me, Salina is. Everything I've ever looked for.

And yet, the next adventure calls again.
- During the Odyssey I also passed places that remained abruptly unexplored terrain. Montales Sandflowers is as much a part of this as Louanges Profanes No. 19. Well, these are scents for another story. - No end in sight

I was just speechless for a moment. Today Cuba Gold arrived at my place, 4,88€ for 100ml by the way, and already it was acknowledged with bitchiness. "What sex shop did that thing come from?!" was one of the friendlier sayings. Well, whoever's got the damage doesn't have to make a mockery of it. Of course I have the damage, at least in terms of perfume, but I couldn't let it sit on me. Good. Ugly bottle. Check. Spray it on them, I thought, so they'd chase those insolence all the way home. So I start the counterattack full of energy and lo and behold - the first mocking voices became quieter. And when we talked about the price, you fell silent. And with what? With right!
Yes, Cuba Gold is certainly not a fragrance that can compete with olfactory masterpieces, at least I've known that since I've been more involved with perfumes. But there was also a time before that. A time before Parfumo, a time when Boss Bottled ruled my world, and a time when "a country before our time" was still within reach of the television program. It's been a long time, but I never had one at the time. Le Male. And also with Douglas I left these lewd silhouettes behind, that's how it was back then. But I was curious already. Up to le Male it was not enough, but the alternative was not far. Thanks to Parfumo.

I don't really have much to say about the scent itself. It's nice to have tasted it. From vague memories he reminds me in many facets of Boss Bottled, the signature scent of earlier times. The fragrance opens fresh and lively and then loses itself in everyday life. Probably also because this composition must be a recipe for success. What remains is an animal sweet men's scent. Slightly woody and somehow difficult to grasp. But all the longer present at the wearer. It still holds on to my friends and will probably outlast subsequent generations. That's what they got from their comments now.
Cuba Gold wins

My nose is a whimsical lover. First she smells a scent and gives me to understand "that's good, you can buy it" and the next day she smells something somewhere in her environment that should spoil any further contact with the perfume.

This time it hit Sail from Acqua di Portofino. Well, I have to mention that he didn't hit me straight from the stool in the first test either, but I was looking for a dirty aquatic. Rauer See in bottles, so to speak, is there for boats as well. And what you se(a) is what you get.
In comparison to others from the aquatic war this one is in my opinion more synthetic and less enduring, but also one of the cheaper representatives.
Now to the second test. The summer was coming to an end and I wanted to use the opportunity of the hour to finally find my scent. I should start by saying that I was sitting at the dentist the morning before, because I had been suffering from an inflammation for weeks. Sail should make this actually forgotten. Actually.

Think so.

Sprayed on and suddenly I find myself at the dentist again.
For me, the opening is now directly linked to the doctor's practice, something in it seems to create these parallels that were previously hidden from me. I suspect it's the eucalyptus. At least that's what I smell. Koala feed in formaldehyde. It's not so bad that I would have to be passed on to the ENT right away, but there are more pleasant interpretations. This note lingers for one or two hours until it creates the transition, the transition to something that even smells quite pleasant. Then I smell only herbaceous, salty sea water. It's so close it's not worth a visit to the dentist.
I deliberately don't make any recommendations here, as everyone should have their own experience, but if there are dentists among us who have always wanted to merge with their practice, at least for a few hours, that's your scent!

My first comment here, and should it be a tear?
Well, not exactly.

A few years ago I came across Parfumo, collected all kinds of samples and put everything under my nose - almost inhaled. In the back of my mind always hear my former chemistry teacher say "Fragrances we fan to"
Well, not exactly.

Ignoring my chemistry teacher I rummaged through my collection and found Profumum Romas Ichnusa. And what did I do? I saw, I took, I inhaled. And there I was, catapulted into another world.
Well, not exactly.

I was still sitting on the couch. But as soon as I smell Ichnusa and close my eyes, I find myself in an oasis. I smell grass - so juicy and green. I smell exotic plants and in the distance I can sense the sea.
Unfortunately, this top note is of short duration for me. But even then I simply feel safe with this scent. The grass becomes slightly smoky/woody, slightly more masculine. At the same time a sweetness opens up, so soft and balanced that it can also be worn by men.

I must openly admit that I tested the fragrance years ago in search of a fragrance that would take me to the sea. That's how it is with wanderlust.
Does he succeed?
Well, not quite.

Even then I thought, "God, what a sensational start." But that was it, I didn't deal with it enough. This comment has changed that and I am grateful for this decision. At that time I found this fragrance a bit exhausting, couldn't tell what it was and put it back in the drawer. Also today I am not sure, the note is still available, but
she doesn't bother any more, strangely enough.
Well, not exactly.

There are still people who don't like it. As luck would have it, my mother smelled the scent on me that day and only replied "What kind of plörre do you have there? It smells like a toilet block."

Well, that's what it is, my oasis. No sea. More like a backyard with vegetation in the heart of Naples. And on the house wall, apparently, someone's been doing his business.