Stefanu155

Had to cut me today my tight pants at the bottom, because in this nevertheless cool season my feet quickly become blue when there is a lack of circulation. The rippling of the fabric creates a red-streaked short tattoo, which unfortunately in the dark and out here no one will appreciate. Kidney and bladder are less significant collateral damage, but frozen toes, nope, no go. Now it's trudging faster and I'm just practicing writing perfume comments in the dark and even with a headwind while walking. The display illuminates my face, that is, what you can still see of it despite the beard. That would look photogenic. Perfume in general: It's materialistic enough to fit into my sober world view, but at the same time somehow esoteric, at least far enough off to generate the necessary gain in distinction
C'mon, let's create the hype. Let's try Trimaran.
The is very vintage, very old school, no one knows him (more) and besides, he is quite rare. Also, the bottle does not look so good, right off somehow, with such a thin black-blue plastic lid on top, but just also somehow cult. Full.
From the bottle it smells very, well, old halt, but you should not be fooled by it. Smells also somehow good old, tobacco original-old, Ur-Paco-Rabanne-old, maybe even Azzarro-old and even older, Alt-Chanel number-five old, not like my father, who smelled after -- after work after stable, after shaving after Old Spice, later then after Nivea After Shave Balm or the like. Rarely he smelled like my mother. I have nothing against my father, after all he pays the rent for my 30 sqm loft! I don't need a big place, we have space in our co-working space. Anyway, I made a board in the corner, not for books or stuff, just to lean on with the laptop and stuff, so when there's visitors, I always lean on it with the laptop. Has the same color. Looks good.
No, like my grandfather smells, oh, what am I talking about, like my great-grandfather downright! But my great-grandfather was killed in a terrible war, which there was once in our country, so no one really knows what he smelled like. But he had a beard like mine today, you can see that in the old photos. But so maybe it smells right out of the bottle.
If you then put it on, this kind of sour greenish-yellow racing stripe - speaking of racing stripes - that used to be on cars, even on bicycles, you know - you can just stick it on the car in a color that has to stand out, that is, stand out. It mustn't blend in with the background, on the contrary. It has to pop. Once there were some super-sour lemon chewing gums (or were they dragées?) that tasted like that at the very beginning, but that went away very quickly, whereas with Trimaran... that stays! This lemon is... no, it's not lemon, it's a contrast, absolutely artificial, the sports, racing or whatever strip, confessedly artificial, modern it must be said. It kicks the scent from old-schooler to neo-vintage now, in other words, it could be from now and just pretend to be old.
Immediately scan, secure the last bottles, on the net there are still, I've already looked. I'll probably flog mine, just before it runs out, with 15 ml for 50 jags on Parfumo.... I mean, for example Aventus, how boring is that, it never really smelled that good, good yes, but really good? No, never ever.
With Trimaran is different, which smelled really good once, even if it may be a long time ago. So at least the racing stripe is insane. Go, let's create the hype. It doesn't cost anything to look. When the racing stripe decreases in luminosity, the old-good comes out again, the warm tobacco original old, the lemon gradually tickles out.
By the way, since I've been involved with perfumes, I don't really need sex anymore, I now give my partner complete warmth and security and we sort everything out with discussions, even though we've broken up in friendship, or precisely because we have. It's all one hundred percent fair between us. Am now also there, sow cold still out here.
And, have you already looked for offers on the net?

PS: Thank you, dear Santa Claus!

After the time-honoured fragrance has been around for so long and, in addition, it enjoys, I would like to say, a solid appreciation from some of my highly esteemed super noses, it was high time to let the boy, whom my inner nose has long since imagined, come into play. (First sentences should be short - what do I care?)
Actually, I could imagine this lavender-vanilla-combination quite well, as I was able to find out afterwards, but then again lavender is not one of those substances I absolutely have to smell all the time (in my case it belongs to the category "spices").
Furthermore, the adjective "vanilla" does not create an immediate desire to get a taste that I absolutely must have it now (see above) which, in the long run, led to the fact that I only knew the bottle of this part so far, but never operated it mechanically.
So first of all, "Holla! What's up?" The bitter-bitter lavender cuts through the surrounding air with the pith of a laser sword and says "thou shalt have no other god beside me." That doesn't happen either, because I'm brain paralyzed for 10 seconds by the lavender shock and take the sprayer with me to the computer, so that I don't have to get up again (who knows if I still can...) to possibly refill it.
Well, 10 seconds go by quickly and very carefully the milder tones of the priming sedan and sweets venture out to whisper flattering words into the ear of their lavender boss. But he doesn't listen, but gets - now he's getting dirty, ladies and gentlemen - lascivious, just too dirty impulses.
This is what lavender likes to do in a certain density and opacity, but you have to say... he's got it bad as hell behind or under his ears.
Whether you perceive it now rather as the buckling of the (unwashed) young man, the acidity of the woman in heat or the aura of the older gentleman overpowered by sudden lust (well, the lavender!) does not matter and would be a matter of taste or smell. Also the adjective "ratty" comes to my mind...
I'm torn, because on the one hand I didn't think that such a, as I thought, "dignified" oldschooler would be able to do that and I'm happy about the surprise, because most of the oldschoolers I know often smell really old to me, I'm surprised about my joy... but on the other hand - that's really mean!
And no, that's not skin chemistry or any mythology, I didn't grind up any molecules (hihi), it's the same on a piece of cloth, on paper or clothes - just as prickly, uninhibited and straight to the point.
The question that arises here is of course: did Mr. Daltroff at that time, 1934, accept and accept this olfactory interlude as "inevitable with a lot of lavender", or did he even operate with it on purpose and "design" the fragrance in this direction, or did it not even occur to him, because lavender already caused a certain habituation and dullness in his nose, that he could not even come up with such thoughts ?
So, anyway, we have here a certain lavender problem, a problem lavender so to speak,
uh, we then have a difference between the normally behaving lavender, the harmful lavender and the uh problem lavender. And, uh, it's quite clear that, uh, this lavender
uh, a problem lavender is and it has been, by the way, also, basically, uh quite uh a certain luck, he has scented practically everything at 1 o'clock at night. And thank God there was, uh, was in the house, so at least that has not been noticed.
Yes, I did
And that, as I already said, I find it cool on the one hand that this one shows an unexpected edge, but on the other hand it's a bit too much... Anyway, after 30 to 45 minutes (but what he might have done already?) the problem lavender is put under house arrest, remand or quarantine and is now only allowed out with an electronic vanilla ankle bracelet and a musk mask. He carries it with composure and thus forms in the long run a very harmonious, calm and character-strong unit, which, as befits a 96-year-old, shines with mildness of age and philanthropic wisdom and now, albeit late, once again proves to be beneficial and supportive to humanity. Now, I must say in conclusion, he is and smells indeed as I had imagined him to be all along. Let's hope that the heart will continue to participate for a long time

Dear ones, I understand all degrees of evaluation here, your enthusiasm and your criticism. It's much "stranger" than I thought, but I think that's good again. And on the other hand... etc. etc.

In the past, when I still did that, I sometimes wrote regular perfume comments on my regular S-Bahn ride. Difficult now in Covid times, because the control sniffer on my wrist could get me in trouble in front of the possible control sniffer or at least cause the unwillingness of other passengers, so, I'd better leave that until I feel unseen.
So, green-fresh for now, not surprisingly. Ah, lily of the valley, clearly. What does the pyramid say about my impression? Nothing.
Lily of the valley says nothing, Rosyfolia says nothing, but that doesn't tell me anything. I read and learn that this fragrance is supposed to smell similar to my lily of the valley. So very similar, I would like to say here. Pretty much the same, you could say. I'm glad I could verify that. It is difficult, when you look out of the window you should see November according to the calendar, which is just like the beginning of October, but even that would be no time for lilies of the valley...
I now have to overcome some metaphorical hurdles or scratch curves to get back to perfume.
Lilies of the valley are poisonous, like...well? Vipers for example
So this viper stuns its potential victims with a small but sufficient dose of lily of the valley poison, snakes into the higher grass to wait there hidden the effect. So it soaps them, its candidates, the ingenious snake. Sure, soapy things come into the conversation here, and now beyond that my S-Bahn finally arrives and I have to act in reality for a moment. Sit down. So. On with the green Viper. What did they want to achieve with the poisonous title? Whoever is looking for something suitable for the title will be disappointed, whoever is looking for something else would not choose a green Viper. Either way, it won't work. It smells fresh, green, flowery and soapy here - I think I'm unseen at the moment and quickly sniff through the fabric mask - yes, that's right. A subtle astringency protects against flowery pomposity or opulence and leaves the whole thing in spring.
And what's with the snake? I feel like Eva in that weird garden, I don't think much of it...

Conifers.
On my way to the apartment, I always walk past such a hedge, occasionally brushing it with my hand. The hedge is ugly, a neighbor entrenched behind it like behind a living castle wall, but it leaves a fragrance on my fingers, which lingers for a short time and always opens up an inner landscape.
Paul does not call his perfume before or after, but "behind the rain" and this has to be interpreted purely as a poetic transformation and - one can no longer read the fragrance as a "reproduction" of a nature impression.
It is idle to divide the fragrance into its constituents. Like the other two of Schütze's scents, it has a characteristic, typical sound and wood always plays a role in them. But it starts tart fresh, conifers with citrus, vetiver with resin forged to one unit.
Without having read his memory of the Aegean before my first note, the following picture came to mind:
A mediterranean, completely parched forest, light and sweating from resin. The ground and the pine needles are just steaming from the rain, which refreshes briefly, but has hardly brought any cooling. The smells of the forest intensified and refreshed. Every now and then, the trees are dripping and the drops bring with them what they can take along on their way down the tree. You can still see the gray rain wall, which is already in the distance and gives back the sky its merciless blue. After a short time, the heat increases again, the resin of the bark struggles with the cracking stems on the ground for scent-sovereignty, crumbling needles and earth mix in. It gets dry again. Even drier.
For a long time, the memory of the short, violent shiver is in the air, before everything returns to the creaking dryness. Light stays for a long while. The wood (I also mean to smell cedar very clearly) is never very heavy. It is bright and light, but the heat leaves everything in motionlessness. Pan, I can see you.
This is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful wood and resin scents I know so far and like the other two perfumes of the series, it is a serious, evolving fragrance. "Behind the Rain" does not calm down so quickly due to the by needle-like essential oils. Yes, even a moment of French brandy is in it, but refined, sublimated, freed from all medical remedies.
Behind the Rain appears natural, as if there were no purely chemical fragrances. And even if they should be there, they are completely at the service of this natural-looking composition. Those who know "Norne" know what a dark forest is. Who knows this fragrance, does not know it anymore.

"MS Found in a Bottle" is a short story by E. A. Poe, the inspirer of this fragrance. Because of a comment this fragrance landed on my shopping list, a little later a bottle with a rest in it was given away (Thanks, Soulfly!) And another coincidence has brought or washed this bottle into my hands. So to speak, each message "searches" and finally finds it's recipient and I am now prompted to open this beautiful message in a bottle and read.
A concept fragrance? A thematic perfume? A literary title to address intellectualistic fine spirits who can no longer be drawn from the woodwork with "Radical Sports XS" or "Crash 134 Extreme" and are therefore looking for more sophisticated "Educational perfumes"?
A fragrance is no text.
But the associations lined up in the fantasy may well be text-like.

"Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream? "

Of course I have a positive expectation towards the fragrance, I know the story already and my perception is influenced from the outset by this prior knowledge, there is no turning back. The question would be whether I could "smell" this if I knew nothing about the whole story? I would say no.
But I can immediately realize something, namely, that the fragrance, considering that it appeared last year, smells significantly older. Much older even, actually from another time. Here this is meant in a quite positive way.
These metallic roses I can only confirm once again, but their coolness does not remind me so much of the fog, as rather to the smell of smoke machines, which have a very slight metallic sourness. A stage effect obviously...
It would not change anything, but how much would I like to know if Poe had ever used a fragrance, except maybe during a visit to the barber shop. Did he have place after shaving (the mustache had to be maintained, yes ...) a light rose or lavender water? Or did he just smell like washing soap?
"The rare visitors in Poe's modest home report a bottle of lavender water by Fincker & Hobbes, which always stood on his little vanity." This of course is just made up by me, but how great would it be to know something about that!
Anyway, this rose fragrance is inextricably embedded in bitter spice, thus forms a perfect synthesis combined with, what I called, metallic and sour note - but in a way that creates associations with an old perfume (perhaps actually the scent of a dark-romantic poet).
In the course the fragrance becomes more woody, but also the harsher spice tones come to the fore and this combination reminds me less of red wine corks, but rather to a wooden barrel, from the inside. (However, I have smelled this only once in my life, there was in it ... a fruit brandy) Hah! Wooden barrel from the inside ... sour roses, dark spice (Cognac? Pepper serves rather to suggest a certain alcoholic tip) - really a strange concoction, but all is kept together, nothing is falling apart, the "image" remains intact.
Back to the question. If I knew nothing of three roses, the cold January morning, the cognac and the poem, then I would have thought the smell of "Nevermore" is one of a dark salon and heavy brocade, aged roses and black frock coats. That alcohol plays a certain role can also be suspected. Poe himself tolerated alcohol so poorly, that he probably would have been struck heavily just by a perfume smell.
So you should put on a dark coat and a hat and wander through the fog. The fellow in public transport are likely to be irritated in a pleasant way. Two, maximum three sprayers are sufficient for adequate presence. You can also sit at home, read Poe and drink a cognac. The rose will still stick a long while in the dark red velvet of the heavy curtains.
Cheers!