Soap

I found Versilia Platinum with the first sprayer somehow oldschool spicy and pungent and at the same time not unfashionable good. Maybe it's this ambivalence that tempts you to stick with the fragrance to get to the bottom of its secret

The fragrance is a "classic Italian" if there is such a thing. It starts uninhibitedly with a straight punch of bitter-bitter spices, and falls with door into the masculine hardness of the 90s. I have to think of Tony Soprano or Paulie Gualtieri (both characters from the US series "The Sopranos"). Slightly unwashed, white sleeveless undershirt - the so popular "wife-beater", in addition suit or tracksuit trousers, gold jewellery and noble and expensive leather slippers. This is more or less the dress code for the scent mood. Chic-comfortable, coarse-masculine, not completely without taste: the quiet Garry Cooper
With this concept Versilia Platinum gives soap and lavender a wide berth. It's downright grandiose: on the one hand, it puts it at a good distance from the classic old-guy freshness, on the other hand, it gives the fragrance its rebellious citric-sour bitterness, which reminds me of cold coffee in the dry-down; or green, unripe coffee beans (?) I personally like that one forgotten sip of espresso, which I discover again next to me in the cup after 30 minutes of writing. Cold and sour it is still a pleasure for me. And also the cold brew technique celebrates this preference, may the hipster disguise it as he likes.

For me, Versilia is this outmoded rebel who, paradoxically, is anything but "fallen out of time". Anyone who creates something beyond classical ingredients without leaving classical music has understood the cyclical-spiral nature of time. This is art by definition and anything but cold coffee

Sandalo e The was the first bottle I bought blind here. With sandalwood and tea you can't do much wrong, I thought to myself. Tea is generally good: Black tea in pour Homme II (Gucci) or Mate in Duel (Goutal). However, lemon also appears in the SeT fragrance pyramid. That worried me a little. I'm always careful with lemon, soap and lavender. I rarely like citric scents (different: Versilia Platinum), and I don't want to smell like refreshing towels from airplanes. Soap is good for me sometimes (Vétyver) sometimes less good (Vetiver Ambrato). Lavender smells like laundry. And once laundry is in play, it usually pushes itself forward, forward. Not mine.

Sandalo e The starts lemony, not citric. Thank God! It's a yellow lemon: ripe, juicy, sour! Actually, it's refreshing. A short time later a plastic note is added, which seems too familiar to me. Back then at school - I was 11 - we had a guest student from the USA: Carissa (for a short time my first girlfriend). In class she always had this giant raspberry eraser the size of an iPhone with Scooby-Doo imprint on it. This eraser had a sweet smell of chemistry and fruity chewy sweets. That's how I remember it. This "smell memory" was called up again much later with L'Homme from YSL. And now again with Sandalo e The. By the way: the "The" only plays a hint here - maybe as Earl Grey, yes, Bergamot,... but surely from quite far away, in space as in time. Yesterday's bag of tea from the kitchen, or something like that. The overall scent remains linear.

Not so bad for a blind purchase, especially since the price was right and I can awaken some positive memories with the scent. He's light-hearted, unobtrusive, well done. Well done

This is gonna be a short swan song. Dodo offers truly fabulous green tones and intoxicating fruit notes. Delicious lychee, multifaceted green! Unfortunately this wonderful bouquet is in a vase full of protein.

The Dodo-Ikebana exudes a more than veritable carcass sweetness that takes the smeller to his stoic limits. The olfactory warning effect of the protein porridge - coagulated and grayed - plays itself into the foreground for the psyche in such a way that everything else is quickly forgotten. The tail of green sweetness quickly withers and degrades to another waste product in the denaturing chain. If I was out on the road, I'd look for my shoes - where did I step in? The latent worry is as persistent as the smell that doesn't want to leave you: I must have stepped in somewhere! Dead hedgehog, dead bird...? Oh, great.

Those who can endure or even enjoy this game will have to interpret and associate the scents in a different way - it seemed impossible to me personally. This is my kryptonite. A dare for home.

Sel de Vétiver was my entry drug into the world of other fragrances. I can't say that things went smoothly right away - but with drugs it's one thing: only the unpleasant experience counts. Terence McKenna already knew that.

Things got off to a tough start. I liked the scent and I didn't like it. I was disturbed by his weight between salt and sea. Only I didn't smell salt or sea. I smell and smell oil. An oil film on the surface of the water? Yes. What now. Although the scent was not completely unappealing, proximity and distance led to an ambivalence spiral in which I was allowed to turn for some time. Only years later did I find my way out - into love.

Sel de Vétiver has been my subtle companion ever since. I like the oil in him; his certain medically bitter, fleeting side, for which I am now quite grateful. For many things that come from spicy woody herbs quickly make life more difficult.

Here the vetiver appears detached from its material substance: fleeting, oily, full and earthy. No jumps in the air, but a measure and a middle. A day with perfect weather: the sun neither hot nor bright, a few clouds, little wind, a lot of silence. Wooden bench and book. Plenty of time. And one more thing: Sel de Vétiver.

I must honestly say that after reading some comments on Zoologist's Tyrannosaurus Rex, God knows what a punch on the nose I expected. And bloodshed, burning palm trees and rising clouds of smoke. The whole apocalyptic program of prehistory. Well, it's not like that. Yes, the palm trees are burning. Yes, the clouds of smoke are rising. But there's no blood yet. In fact, this fragrance is the best and most interesting thing that has come under my nose so far - so much in advance.

The fragrance starts off unusually intriguing. Hardly tangible, what is firing at the same time and room filling. I don't know, I don't know, I don't know. Sweet, hot, smoke, tar. Immediately I wanted more, and more, and still a little more, in order to get in completely and safely.

For me it starts with white smoke: typical post-campfire smell, fading embers, forest air. At the same time a discreetly composed sweetness unfolds, so that the perception begins to jump back and forth: Smoke/Sweet/Smoke/Sweet - a pretty exciting thing. I liked that.

After some time, the smoky notes give way to finer nuances: pleasantly moderate metallic notes, lasting sweetness and incense. All quite bearable, but dynamic. Much more exciting than Zoologist's Camel, who had turned himself on my skin into a sticky heavy, homogeneous sweet mass of the old muff school and couldn't be washed off. Tyrannosaurus Rex is really much more detailed, more differentiated and yes, also more carefree.

I cannot say whether the fragrance is really suitable for everyday use, it is certainly not completely harmless. In opposition to send clothes - yes, sure thing, the game of opposites halt. Uncombed in a suit, yes! I wouldn't camp with it - who would take their own firewood with them when they go into the forest?
Urban is the T-Rex for me in any case, and there I would not greatly question what with what, and if, and at all. To go out? Yes. Office? No. Man needs less office, more forest. More smoke!