Rebirth2014

"Ladies and gentlemen, watch how our flea master - Le Labo - mixes all-natural fragrances on his scent organ! How? Can't you see? Well, it must be your eyes. Please, we made it to New York! How do you think we would have gotten to this fame if my fleas weren't doing what I'm describing to you right now!"

Natural ingredients are trending. In small apothecary bottles, made of amber glass, (watch out, now it's getting bulky!) perfumes are filled all-natural; -naturally- especially if they come from the unique Grasse. - Naturally! -

That's what they thought probably also in the flea circus - Le Labo - and used from then on particularly ugly flacons to the (already clear what comes now?) - natural - image of the in-house flea attractants can also optically capture.

Well, I also recently visited this flea circus. There I was presented with a unique bath and massage oil with a scent reminiscent of rain freshly fallen on the earth: Baie 19.

"Not bad!", I thought, "There's creativity behind this!" But then the flea tamer started telling me something about the fabulous - naturalness - of his products. A look at the ingredients (nicely listed on the label) confirmed in large part what he was saying. But why was this oil in a plastic bottle of all things?

Confronted with this fact, the man laughed sheepishly and immediately replied, "Oh, forgive me, that's where our 19th generation flea Baie made a tiny little mistake, I'm afraid!"

He immediately pushed me aside and handed me an aluminum tube containing an aftershave balm. He whispered conspiratorially, "Look here, from the flea grooming department. Sustainable, made from aluminum. A balm with great conditioning properties. Only - natural - ingredients. No parabens and stuff ..."

My eyes immediately fell on the statement of ingredients. Who would have thought it? Already the second ingredient, after water, was the very - natural - silicone oil.

"There your fleas must again to the recipe! Of nature? Not a trace!", I remarked cynically.

Again the nervous twitching around the corner of his mouth and the embarrassed cackling laugh, "Now, now, sir! Who's going to be so critical in a minute? It's the intention that counts. Our youngest fleas are responsible. They won't get any blood from me today as punishment, then they'll do their job so right again tomorrow."

Silence. (He even blushed)

"M...? (Clearing his throat) May.... do you like black tea?" the tamer asked, beads of sweat now dripping from his top hat.

"I'd love to.", I replied as kindly as I still could.

Good, that was a lie, because I don't really care for tea. But to the tense ringmaster my words were a visible relief. He stomped off to the ring, performed odd hand gestures (with one of the fleas?) and returned with two flasks.

"Now this is something very special! Our extremely talented flea - Thé noir, already in its 29th generation - asked me to present you with this exclusive perfume.", said the now again - unnaturally - cheerful flea prince.

He sprayed some on my wrist. While this composition was no longer quite as unique and creative as the 19th generation concoction from little Baie, it was still a solid perfume that actually nicely combined the black tea aroma with figs and dry wood.

"Ahhh, you like it. Thought so." New York's most famous flea manager breathed a sigh of relief, "I can see it on your face!"

The gentleman's grimace, the supposed flea-perfumers, and the whole stifling atmosphere in the circus tent seemed to confuse me. Was this now great cinema, what I smelled, or after all just any fragrance?

"Well, that's not bad. But...", I tried to analyse gently, but already Mr. Director interrupted me, "Sir, please, no problem. I know you now!"

The second bottle, with a pipette, quickly wandered into my hand. "You want to challenge our - natural - image? Absolutely. That's your right. But with this unique perfume oil, I now dismiss you from our fabulous little flea circus. Go and enjoy at home this nectar of Mother Nature, created with the finest safflower oil. As a parting gift, give our little star, Thé noir 29, another round of applause (and 130 euros). Then, shoo, shoo, OUT!"

Before I knew what hit me, I was standing in the bathroom at home, unscrewing the cap on the medicine bottle. Even as I opened it, the oil inadvertently dripped out of the eyedropper, leaving ugly stains on my shirt. But it hardly smelled at all. What was it? Very slightly, I detected the aroma of - Thé noir - but without the magic of the fleas. The inherent smell of the thistle oil even almost overlapped the aura of the perfume.

Now I drizzled 7 drops on my wrist until I realized that this oil just stayed on my skin. Conscientiously, I tried to massage it in, but was unsuccessful. Eventually, the fabric of my shirt absorbed the greasy substance.

Still I perceived olfactory hardly something. Over time, a slight inkling of the scent developed, but it remained very skin-deep and subtle.

I made myself comfortable on the sofa and tried to process my impressions and the burgeoning frustration, when it began to sting at the spot where I had applied the oil. Little pinpricks occurred constantly, but I was so tired that I promptly fell asleep.

It was not until the next morning that I awoke. Hypnotically I brought my arm to my nose and was surprised that the scent was still perceptible. Durability it possessed; just no sillage.

However, when I looked at the arm, I saw countless little flea bites forming letters. Throughout the context, it said there in red pustules, "A touch of nothing. - Of course! - from Le Labo."

Once the brand "Dunhill" stood solely for high-quality tobacco products. The tobacco pipes from the house of "Dunhill" still form the nimbus of British smoking culture in their craftsmanship. Mind you, Alfred Dunhill opened his successful tobacco business in 1907, at a time when the health risks of smoking were not talked about.

Increasingly, since the founding of the company, social health awareness changed and already in 1968 the company "Dunhill" sold its tobacco licenses to "British American Tobacco". Only the high-quality tobacco pipes and corresponding accessories continue to be originally manufactured and offered by "Dunhill".

In the following development bought in lifestyle products (eg Montblanc) and also tried to gain a foothold in the fashion sector. The image of the "gentleman" built up over smoking always remained style-forming.

To be honest, "Dunhill" will be predominantly with former or still practicing male smokers the epitome of high quality. But it was precisely this target group that was alienated in recent years, as "Dunhill" (now under the management of the Swiss luxury group Richemont) decided in 2008 to withdraw completely from the manufacture and distribution of tobacco products.

But where is the journey to go? If one observes the brand - which, despite the orientation to the spirit of the times, is still geared solely to the target group of men - then it is noticeable that the range in the "men's perfumes" sector in particular is steadily increasing.

Although aimed at a broad sales market (mainstream), the brand does not really succeed in Germany to offer their fragrances nationwide. Niche perfumeries, the marketing and pricing is apparently too anchored in the mainstream sector (eg, the "Icon" series) to be included in the range. Many perfumery chains and drugstores, on the other hand, do not seem to see any potential buyers for the "Dunhill" products in their target group so far, in order to permanently place them on their shelves. Thus it becomes in Germany sometimes difficult to be able to test locally the smells, since these are often offered only in on-line Shops.

With the "Signature Collection" expands "Dunhill" - not least because of the pricing - since 2019 on the niche market. Due to the low availability, there are accordingly on "Parfumo" so far only very few ratings (as of March 2021 just five reviews of "Arabian Desert"). These convey the image that it must be an outstanding EDP (whole 8.3 rating points).

Unfortunately, I can not agree with this impression. The flacon is indeed outstanding and exceptionally massive design. Almost like a cup, I hold the bulky bottle (with just 100 ml content) in my hands. However, the contained liquid visually resembles a watered-down cola; a bad omen.

The fragrance starts fresh woody. In the further fragrance development then actually works out some eagle wood, which, however, only very gently shines through. In no way is this masculine, but clearly - not least because of the implied rose in the heart note - absolutely unisex. In the basic chord, musk and cardamom also arrange themselves according to my sensation. Except for the initial freshness, the scent remains very linear.

Here nothing new is ventured, but set on old proven fragrance patterns. Aigner N°1 Oud or also Armani Eau de Nuit Oud could have served as a template. This is not badly implemented and will like Oud beginners/inside, as well as all those who like Oud as a delicate hint in a woody / floral perfume.

Corresponding to the gentle Duftgestaltug also holds back the sillage with a good shelf life. Since there are, however, just in the niche some brands that have to offer in the similar price segment qualitatively much better gentle oud fragrances (eg MK "Oud Satin Mood").

"Arabian Desert" appears visually noble, but without any recognition value in the selected fragrance structure. This lack of orientation is already found in the brands "Bentley" and "Aigner". Relying solely on a traditional name does not automatically lead to the upper league of the fragrance world. Thus "Dunhill" will not be able to conquer a new segment and must even - according to my personal assessment - fear to be sold off in online stores in the foreseeable future

I am almost inclined to counteract the currently completely exaggerated high rating on Parfumo, to pronounce only a 5.0. But even this rating would not be fair. It is actually a rock-solid fragrance, which in my opinion (taking into account the much too high price of almost 140, - euros in the "Dunhill store" and the uninspired fragrance design) deserves a realistic rating between 6.5 and 7.

Finally, I would like to quote Edgar Allan Poe to my chosen title with a wink and thus express my personal disappointment with the corporate policy of the Dunhill brand: "... my spirit wavered as I now saw the mighty walls burst asunder; there followed a long thunderous crash like the roar of a thousand waterfalls, and the deep and black pool at my feet closed gloomily and silently over the ruins of the house ..." - Dunhill.

p.s.: Maybe I'm also wrong and Dunhill mutates with its future fragrances in the end yet the phoenix from the (tobacco) ashes.
;-)

..................

05.03.2023 - an interesting addition/counterstatement which I received from "Weinbergmaus" as mail and gladly insert here:

"So you write - I quote:
In the following development, people bought into lifestyle products (e.g. Montblanc) and also tried to gain a foothold in the fashion sector. The image of the "gentleman" built up over smoking always remained style-forming.

Well Dunhill has NEVER bought into Montblanc! The Hamburg fountain pen company Montblanc was bought just like Dunhill, by the luxury group RICHEMONT, formerly founded in South Africa and now based in Switzerland.

Both Dunhill and Montblanc, were granted licenses by Richemont for the production of fragrances (perfumes).

This is one of the major marketers for a range of fragrances for well-known brands. The name is INTER PARFUMS
The franz. Offshoot - referred to as Interparfums France has 11 well-known perfume brands in its portfolio - Montblanc yes, but not Dunhill! >>> www.interparfums.fr/en/index-2/

In contrast, the US offshoot INTER PARFUMS Inc. has 15 well-known perfume brands.
This one with Dunhill, but not Montblanc. >>> www.interparfumsinc.com/

Although Interparfums has well-known brands, they basically never managed to conceive real "bangers" and bring them to market."

Yes, I gave Fantomas the full score, although I will never wear it. For me, he smells aggressive, disharmonious and in parts even disgusting. But at the same time it is an uncompromising masterpiece in the field of Pop Art and could definitely be exhibited at the Filmmuseum Frankfurt (as an olfactory "soundtrack" 4-D).

As a child of the 70's I perceived the film character Fantomas as a bogeyman and super villain. After every TV broadcast wild speculations about the blue devil became a permanent topic among us primary school children:

"Did you see Fantomas yesterday?"

"Nope, my parents have forbidden it! Too violent! But I secretly went to the toilet again and looked at the TV for a short time. There was Fantomas Awful blue and he laughed really hard

"For real? Whoa, soooo scary! Quick, tell me more..."

But there was nothing more to tell and the myth of the terrible villian mutated further in our imagination. How could we have guessed back then that this was a harmless comedy with the outstanding Louis de Funes? It was a time when the crime theme alone justified a FSK 16.

With our action figures - all around the adventure world of "Big Jim" - we played our childish ideas about Fantomas. I didn't worry about smells and scents at that time, although I was able to store all the olfactory impressions of that time in my memory.

Now it's 2020 and one of the most provocative perfumers of the present day is once again taking on the theme of Fantomas.

Fantomas starts with a strong melon smell, maybe a little bit of blueberry. Clearly calone, a fragrance that reached its peak in the 80s (New West). But it was already discovered in 1966, exactly in the time window of the Fantomas film series. Is this pure coincidence with Gualtieri? Did he simply want to add watermelon - without any further reference - as a top note? To open the comedy? Or did he also want to set a time frame here? - "Hey, did you notice that both started in the mid 60's and still have an effect today?"

While the top note could still be dismissed as a funny provocation, stage 2 already ignites, and under glycerine vapour (which some people today use to draw into their lungs, but which was used as a "disco fog" in the late 60s) a vinyl-PVC-latex structure slowly emerges. This is how homes and children's rooms - especially toys (dolls and Big Jim) - smelled in the 1970s. This can no longer be a coincidence! br />

Everything seems totally "overtuned", absolutely shrill, and forms as fast as Fantomas oftentimes appears to the clumsy de Funes in the movie.

For hours, this intentionally synthetic scent image is retained and Roy Lichtenstein adds a loud "bang!" in a speech bubble.

Up to this point, the concept seems to be quite ingenious: Fantomas teleports himself olfactorically into the here and now, but the chosen fragrances teleport me directly into the late 60s or early 70s.

In the following fragrance development, the top note slowly retracts (on the cloth supplied with the sample, however, this takes 2 full days). The blueberry melon only swings softly in the background, the softener from Fantomas plastic mask evaporates and a biting smoke now leads into the depth/base of the fragrance. Beneath this is the typical Gualtieri accord, sweaty with the well-known faecal oud, which both conveys the human level of the phantom and reveals the master's signature.

Honestly: I don't want to wear this scent monster on my skin, as much as it fascinates me. However, the theme has been realized in such an authentic way, with a power, creativity, depth and scope for interpretation - in short: Alessandro Gualtieri has reached the zenith of his artistic expressiveness.

Pleasant, fragrant and flattering scents are a dime a dozen. On the level of art - which perfume can and should be - Gualtieri lifts his Fantomas with all his skill. I respect this and reward it with the best possible rating.

I had made my way through the overgrown castle garden and now I stood in front of the main entrance of the castle, which sparkled bizarrely in the evening sun. Built in the Empire style, this rural palace reflected all the disgusting kitsch of that era. Even a stylized death mask of Napoleon had the interior to offer. The proud owner, who liked to call himself the emperor of his small empire, obviously identified himself with this mask - or rather with Napoleon.

I remember my last visit all too well. The lord of the castle led me through the rooms of the castle, which were not to be surpassed in bad taste. However, to go into more detail would make me extremely uncomfortable, so I decided not to go there.

As the industrial mogul of the leather industry, Mr. Knut - as the vain rooster was called - was happy to satisfy the unpleasant urge to show off his wealth unambiguously.

But I was not interested in this Mr. Knut, nor in his ugly building in which he presented himself dressed up. Fortunately for me, he had travelled to Paris for a few days and had allowed me to do further research in his library. So I only had to put up with the ostentatious building, but not the vain peacock in human form.

The elderly and silent steward opened the gate for me and nodded dismissively in the direction of the library, which was located in the only tower of the castle. This simple-minded fellow could certainly not do anything with books. From his eye sockets the monosyllabic stupidity of a Neanderthal came out noticeably.

I paid no further attention to him and walked directly, through the hidden corridors of the servants, up to the tower stairs. Now I opened the heavy door and a mysterious smell penetrated my nostrils. Sweetly yellowed paper, tart leather bindings and the heavy precious wood of the shelves formed the olfactory frame in which my passion immediately began to flare up.

This superficial industrialist had failed to notice the treasures hidden in his randomly assembled library. While he obviously assumed that I would research the history of the foundation walls of his renovated castle for him, I actually hoped to snatch a rare edition of the Necronomicon, the existence of which this nouveau riche fool did not even suspect. It seemed particularly funny to me that Mr Knut must even have a professional interest in the book, as the binding was once tanned from human skin. By coincidence I had come across the Necronomicon directly during my first visit to the library and wanted to use the opportunity to recover it.

The interior of the library was unusually asymmetrically shaped. The view to the ceiling could be confusing, as neither a foreground nor a background could be clearly identified. The stuffy smell of the dust, which lay on the books like an unsweet sugar crust, had an additional numbing effect. It rushed inside and some of the old books even showed rat food

At that moment, one of those hideous rodents scurried past my feet, stopped at a spot on the shelf as if it wanted to show me something. The air around me became heavier and stuffier as I moved towards the rodent. The dizziness took hold of me and I sank to the floor, and I realized that the rat had a human face. The creature looked as if it had the face of Mr. Knut; only distorted by the massive rodent teeth that covered a large part of the lower lip.

With human-like hands, this horrible miniature pointed to the book, which was now right in front of my nose. An indescribable horror seized me, because everything familiar sank into a whirlpool of madness. I was connected to an ancient world, an enchanting smell on the one hand, which made promises to my inclinations to adventures and unfathomable mysteries - and on the other hand the pure visual horror.

Surrounded by demonic figures and a rat gnawing at my body, who constantly said: "Do you really think I did not see through you! You pitiful creature! I am the emperor of my empire," I sank into a deep sleep, carried away in sweet-spicy popcorn wokers, trapped in the memories of an intruder

In the last few months I have had to be very reticent about Parfumo in my actions. This was neither due to the excellent community, nor to my love for perfumes. Rather, I came to the realization that the perception of a fragrance is such a subjective feeling that - with all preferences - it does not always fit one's own mood and especially one's own lifestyle.

Primarily I fell in love in the last years with fragrances of the oriental direction (especially Amouage), only to find out that there are meanwhile hardly any situations in which I can wear them. Even Fougeres, which are full, wooded and green in the base, got on my nerves with all their affection. Why was this?

From Couchpotato, with over 20 kg overweight, I found my way back to an active lifestyle. Increasingly my sluggish and cuddly basic posture had to give way to my rediscovered urge to move. In the beginning, days of rest and days of action were still in balance. Smoky, heavy scents or powerful fougeres accompanied me through the temperate days, as well as on hikes in the autumn forest. But year after year my sport workload increased and with it also the physical and olfactory load developed to the same extent.

After the remains of Amouage Interlude from the previous evening made me almost vomit during the hard interval training, as if someone was smoking next to me, I decided to use my scent treasures only very rarely and carefully (holidays, going out etc.) and I experimented frustrated with fresh scents from the mainstream segment. I didn't like any fragrance from this area, because either the top note was too synthetically fresh (detergent) or the base was incredibly sticky and sweet (tonka) and created an inner defense. It simply didn't fit any more and every fragrance produced a certain disgust during the day.

At some point I remembered "Acqua di Parma Colonia Club" and in my desperation I bought a small bottle. Tested during sports, the incredibly fresh, pearly top note immediately inspired me. This gave me the incomparable feeling that probably everyone knows when you quench your thirst with bitter lemon, orangina or san pellegrino: the bitter parts of the peel, the essential oils of the citrus fruits, and the crystalline, sugary sweetness immediately invigorate body and soul.

As Colonia, the fragrance does not tend to get lost in excessive sillage or shelf life.

In the second phase a green soap develops, which conveys a cultivated feeling. Light Fougereankläge swing along. The mint still remains pearly and triggers another freshness kick.

There is no such thing as a base. That's good, because this would trigger a certain feeling of disgust in me during sporting stress. Vetiver, musk and amber (probably due to the resin in the heart note) produce only a dry and soft contrast to the freshness. After two hours the fragrance retreats very close to the skin.

If I evaluate the fragrance as a composition in the classical sense, I have to reproach him for giving away essential elements of perfume art in a one-dimensional way and without drydown. But in my case this "mistake" is ideal and gives me an everyday scent that fits my life and my feelings perfectly.

Who had to make similar experiences, like those described by me, is recommended to test "Acqua di Parma Colonia Club". All others will probably be bothered by the overdrawn mint and the missing base.

The shower foam of "Rituals Samurai Yuzu" also went in the same direction (the pearling effect), which unfortunately was discontinued.