TristanKalus

In search of a new winter fragrance I came across this grenade of a fragrance a few years ago. The criteria were quickly decided for me and thus the new object of desire should have a warm and spicy character and have a good performance - at that time I did not have more demands on a fragrance. If you now compare Viktor & Rolf's Spicebomb Extreme, you don't have to be an expert to recognize that this is, at first glance, a clear match. At least, if you look at the first two criteria, I'll get to the performance later. The appendix of the name also promises an extreme fragrance, which made me curious.

Spicebomb - the name says it all here, as six spices alone make up the bulk of the fragrance pyramid. Most dominant stands out the black pepper. Once this settles a little, join allspice and cumin. I find the addition of cumin in particular very exciting, as it tends to be found less in designer fragrances. Cumin is associated with a sweaty note in some fragrances. Here, however, it nestles gently with the allspice and pepper, building the foundation for spice number four - the cinnamon. Here I was initially concerned that this would immediately take it in the direction of Candyland or Christmas Market, but thankfully far from it. Gentle and only with a subtle sweetness, this integrates into the already existing spice composition. It is not possible to say exactly which cinnamon variety the note is more reminiscent of, as it has the slight spiciness of cassia cinnamon but also the subtlety of cinnamon from Ceylon. Accompanying it all is a soft vanilla that gives the scent just the right amount of sweetness. Spice number six, saffron, unfortunately, I don't smell as a single component. This blends too much with the rest of the notes.

So much for the spices. Now let's move on to the rest of the notes of Spicebomb Extreme. In the first few minutes after spraying, the pepper makes, as already described, the race, but closely followed by the grapefruit. This refines the spicy entry with its fresh, citrusy and subtly tart character - wonderful! As soon as the interlude of cumin, allspice and cinnamon has lost some of its volume, the light tones of the resins can be heard. Amber and cistus add even more depth to the vanilla and make the scent shine even warmer. The cistus in particular becomes more present as it progresses and lasts the longest of all the notes. Now we come to the last note - the tobacco. Here, unfortunately, I have to be a little disappointed. Sure the scent is not Tobaccobomb Extreme, but I would have liked a little more of it. Fine nuances of light pipe tobacco are to be guessed. However, these quickly merge with the resins and vanilla. No point deduction from me for this either, as this really rounds out the scent. For my personal preference, however, the tobacco could stand out more clearly and thus give the fragrance a little corner.

Okay with that, we've gone over the composition of Spicebomb in more detail. But now what about the appendix "Extreme". If you search for the definition of "extreme", you stumble across the following explanations:

"Extreme, immoderate, radical, going to the utmost limit"

To be fair, this is an intensified version of Viktor & Rolf Spicebomb, which is probably what the appendix is referring to, but I still wouldn't consider it extreme. Rather a very balanced and pleasing scent, reminiscent of the well-groomed, bearded uncle in a flannel shirt jacket and affluent bellies, sitting smoking a pipe in front of a crackling fireplace. So rather very wearable, cozy and pleasing, which are definitely good qualities, just not extreme. So let's assume the scent composition isn't that extreme, then yes maybe the performance. But even here, I tend to have doubts. On average, I come up with a good 6 hours of longevity with a relatively good projection. Thus, also not extreme, but moderate to good.

Let's get to the conclusion. This review is not intended to be a slam on Spicebomb Extreme, but merely to raise awareness that this is by no means a beastmode fragrance. Also, I must point out that one consideration has been left out until now - the price. If you now include this in the calculation, you get namely a very great and pleasing fragrance for the cooler seasons for a more than fair price, which also does not turn out so extreme. ;)

With this fragrance from the house of Dior started a good 3 years ago my personal journey through the world of perfumes. I owned a few fragrances before, but never really dealt with them. What smelled good went on the skin. But at some point the last bottle was used up and something new was needed. But which fragrance should it be? So I started my first research and came across relatively quickly on our well-known perfume-YouTuber, which praised among other things this fragrance as the holy grail in the sky. I couldn't believe my luck and felt like I had cracked the secret code of the fragrance world. After a short period of reflection, the fragrance was also ordered and I waited eagerly for my little treasure, which should bring me after the promises every day countless compliments of the ladies.

- Thank God this is no longer a selection criterion for me. -

Now that the days of waiting were over and I carefully took my new Dior out of its packaging, I was finally able to sniff the elixir of wonder. Well, what can I say. Yes, it smelled good, but not as good as advertised. Well what the heck I thought and applied it for the first time and I must say that I found it very pleasant - easy to wear. The pepper tickles the nose for the first few seconds and then a fresh scent develops with a spicy underpinning and a slight salty hit. I won't go into the exact composition and DNA of the fragrance here now, as there are already enough, very good comments on this. What I can say, however, is that the association with one of the many blue shower gels for sporty active men came up relatively quickly. And what all these shower gels have in common in terms of their fragrance is pleasantness. And here, in my eyes, is the crux with which this fragrance has to live. An enormous amount of favorability plus a huge amount of hype, fueled by self-proclaimed perfume influencers. We all know the result. A year after its release, every shopping mall smelled like Dior Sauvage. Definitely speaks to the success of the fragrance, but unfortunately this quickly made it uninteresting to me and from that point on it was only used as a sports and work fragrance by me. As I said, all in all a good, solid men's fragrance, in which there is nothing to complain about for the price called. Credit must be given to Dior Sauvage for making its contribution to the fragrance world and making Ambroxan attractive to the designer sector. However, he has had his time.

For me, he will always remain the ticket to the world of fragrances and thus of great emotional value. But in a world of individualism, I do not want to smell like everyone.

This fucking Thursday!

Not that it was enough that Adriana's elegant pantsuit got stuck to her skin wet from the rain. No, she still had to sink her right foot and pump into the next brackish puddle. The day began like a picture book of messed up days, when you should turn around and pull the blanket over your ears again. So after she overslept, had to leave her coffee on the kitchen counter and also the trip with the metro once again a smell spotpourri of bodily fluids, wet dog and cold fast food of the night partygoers prepared for her, her working day went to all excess catastrophically. Early deadlines, shot-up Excel spreadsheets and superficial conversations in the coffee kitchen. After she left the office a good hour later than planned, without her umbrella, in the direction of the smelly metro and hurried home from there through the rain, she pulled her soaked shoe out of the puddle and looked around somewhat perplexed and now quite annoyed. She was only a few minutes away from her entrance, so she shook the wetness from her shoe in vain and hurried home shivering. Only one cross street away, as on every daily way home, the familiar and inviting smell of the small and alternative-looking café on the street corner kicked in her nose. Even though she passed the café more than once a day, she had never lost her inner self.

"Somehow not my thing," she always told herself, although the smell coming from it and the pleasantly warm light had a more than just inviting character.

Frozen as she was, she stood in the light of the windows and took the smell of rooibuschtee, fresh pastry, spices and vanilla. That was what she needed now! She opened the shop door and was greeted with light, wooden tones of a sound play that was attached to the door. She stepped into the warm sales room and now smelled clearly freshly roasted coffee. A strong middle-aged man stood at the barista vending machine and was just preparing a cup of coffee.

"To go or for here?" He was still busy making the coffee, but he turned her head slightly.

"Gladly for here, if there's an empty seat." She let her gaze wander through the place

"I think there's a vacancy at the window. I'll be right with you."

And indeed, there was a small table available right by the window. Adriana meandered past the other guests and settled down in her seat. To her delight, she noticed that a small but rather warm radiator was fixed between the window and the table. Without further ado, she wiped off her soaking wet heels and warmed her cold toes on the radiator. On the mahogany table in a stone vase stood a single flower. A star-shaped blossom with white leaves and a yellow colour gradient starting from the centre. Adriana bent curiously towards the blossom to smell it. She took on fruity-creamy notes that reminded a little of peach-yogurt. While she was still wondering which plant that might be, the strong guy from the barista vending machine was standing at her table.

"Smells great, doesn't it?! Are frangipanis." His mischievous smile was disarming

Adriana turned to him a little perplexed. On the one hand, she hadn't expected that such a stocky man knew his way around the world of delicate flowers, on the other hand she had probably guessed her thoughts.

"I'm Tom, by the way, and if I may be so bold, you look like you had a really bad day today."

"Can you read minds, or do I look so horrible?" Adriana asked amusedly

Tom only smiled mischievously

"What can I get you?" He made no effort to make a notepad out of his apron. Instead, he looked into her eyes with a penetrating but friendly, almost understanding look

"A large black coffee, please."

"Anything else?" Tom pulled his eyebrows up a tad expectantly

"Can you recommend anything?" Inwardly, she was annoyed that she hadn't looked at the menu or the pastry on the counter. Unfortunately, she was sitting too far away to look at the board above the counter

"I think I have something that might be good for you now." And with a wink, Tom disappeared towards the bar

Adriana was even more baffled than before. This definitely wasn't a regular coffee shop. While she was still thinking about Tom's very direct but warm and gentle manner, she let her eyes wander through the café. Warm, slightly dimmed lights, mahogany tables and matching chairs with soft leather covers. In one of the back corners stood a bulging bookshelf. From an incense stick, light wafts of incense and myrrh wafted through the café. On the counter piled up loaves of freshly baked bread and under glass bells were countless sweet pastries, biscuits and pieces of cake. The other guests had a muted, yet boisterous conversation.
Out of nowhere, Tom stood in front of her again. In his left hand he held a large, steaming cup of coffee and in his right hand a small, stone bowl, from which a light steam was rising as well. From her sitting position Adriana unfortunately could not see the contents of the mysterious bowl.

"I got some yellow luck for you here." Tom once again smiled disarmingly and put the cup and the bowl on the table in front of Adriana.

"We always had it with us in bad weather or against a cloudy mood, it's a special recipe from my grandma."

"Custard!" Adriana looked up from the steaming bowl into Tom's eyes

"I bet I haven't eaten this since I was a kid."

Tom smiled knowingly at her and put his hands behind his apron

"Enjoy your meal and if you need anything else, just let me know. I'll be right over at the bar

Adriana nodded and turned enthusiastically to her freshly brewed coffee and her bowl of yellow happiness. The pudding smelled of rich vanilla and sweetish milk. But there was another note she couldn't quite identify. Coriander? Or a touch of saffron? She took a spoon from the clay cup standing on the table and carefully lifted out a small amount of the pudding. She smelled it again, led the spoon to her mouth and closed her eyes very satisfied. Sweet luck is really very good, Tom! Adriana opened her eyes, took her coffee and leaned back. Outside it was already dark and where many raindrops gathered on the window pane, they ran down in fine trickles. Adriana sipped her hot coffee and as she watched the raindrops as they came down the writing, a warm feeling of bliss spread through the middle of her body. She smiled into her cup, for she would certainly not have thought that this day would take another turn like this a quarter of an hour ago.

I associate Acqua di Gio Profumo very strongly with my father, although I can't even say whether he ever owned a flanker or the original at all. Every time this fragrance comes into my nose, I associate it with a single Sunday morning half an eternity ago in the somewhat cooler season:

Outside in front of the windows, cold heights whirl through the air in all imaginable shades of yellow and red, the leaves that have been lying on the ground for a good month. Until a few minutes ago, the cold and fresh November air was still streaming into our apartment, in the style of the Stalin buildings, in the middle of Berlin. However, the damp-cold residues of the morning air are gradually mixing with the warm-dry air of the heating systems that are now running at full speed - Mum and my little brother always like it nice and warm and cosy for breakfast. By the way, there was something! I should tell dad that the rolls are almost ready and we can have breakfast. In the living room you can already notice the slightly sweetish smell of the baking rolls, which mixes with the light bergamot aroma of steaming Earl Grey tea on the breakfast table. I walk through our long corridor to the bathroom and open the door. My dad looks at me questioningly as he wipes shaving foam residue from his freshly shaved face. Now that he knows that he has to finish his morning washing and shaving routine a little faster than originally planned, he lets cold water run into his open hands and rinses the last remains of the foam off his face. A quick grab of the wooden shelf behind him reveals a clear bottle filled with Armani aftershave, which he applies lightly tapping the face. I still stand in the doorway and watch with fascination. One more short taming of the freshly washed hair and the grip to the ready shirt and he stands in front of me. A smell of freshly shaved and aftershave from the 90s of the last century emanates from him. Fresh, herbaceous and woody describes the smell best. This mixes with the vague scent of an incense candle, which my mum probably just lit in the living room. He ties up his shirt and the last bit of white of his fine-rib undershirt disappears under the penultimate, top button of his burgundy linen shirt. He puts his hand on my shoulder, pushes me lovingly into the hallway and we go together for Sunday breakfast in the living room with the rest of the family.

Another image that builds up in my mind with this fragrance is that of a lonely walker on the French Atlantic coast in the Normandy area. It is a rough and uncomfortable day in the middle of November. The wind whistles onshore and carries fine drops of salty spray, which easily settle on the hair and the freshly shaved face of the strollers. The sea is turbulent and smells especially strong today, and on the sandy beach you can find driftwood and algae washed up from time to time. Our beach visitor seems to be the only one who decided to go for a walk on the beach in this weather. But for him it is the perfect time, as he has a weakness for rough and untamed nature experiences and is no friend of soft washed summer sunshine weather. He has walked the beach section countless times in his life, but even though grey strands are already visible in his well-groomed hair, he is more than impressed by the beauty of the interplay of land and sea at this point, just like on the first day. From the dunes, a light herbaceous smell of the herbs that are brimming with wind wafts over there and mixes with the salty aroma of the angry sea and the scent of his freshly spicy aftershaves. A light drizzle joins the wind and the walker puts his quilted jacket a little more over his cotton cardigan. After he has pulled up the collar of the shirt underneath, he takes a last deep breath of the fresh sea breeze and, thinking of a hot tea with a shot and the novel he has started in his jacket pocket, he heads for the nearby café just behind the next dune.

Now to the actual fragrance:
Giorgio Armani's Acqua di Gio Profumo is in my eyes a very masculine and freshly spicy fragrance with a slightly woody note. The prelude is clearly a fresh, slightly tart bergamot, followed by aquatic notes with a salty touch, which for me is the highlight of this fragrance. The Acqua in the name does not stand for the scent of shallow waters, but for the opulence, coolness and depth of a rough sea. The spicy components also come through at the beginning, although I cannot say with absolute certainty what spices are involved here. I think I smell something pepper and something woody, but that quickly disappears as the herbaceous components of rose geranium, sage and rosemary are already emerging. The latter two components underline the tart bergamot accord from the top note and add a touch of depth to the aquatic note. Finally, frankincense joins in and rounds off the overall picture with its slightly sweet-spicy touch. Acqua di Gio Profumo is in my eyes an absolutely timeless fragrance, which projects a certain degree of alpha-masculinity, but in a very cultivated way. The two associations I have mentioned relate to men over 40, but this is not an old-fashioned perfume. All in all, it is a very masculine, versatile and above all very pleasing fragrance. I would rate the durability and sillage as very solid for a fresh scent. After a day in the office, it is still clearly perceptible, even if only up close. A moderate Sillage accompanies you the first few hours. If you are looking for a fragrance for any occasion, this is the place to be. Good job Alberto Morillas!

I would like to introduce my femme fatale to you today. I must confess, love at first sight certainly wasn't this! A few times, before I smelled it for the first time, I had already heard of this seemingly very polarizing scent. One winter evening, while browsing for a fragrance for my girlfriend, I stumbled upon the rather meager Tom Ford department in a large perfumery chain. At that time I hadn't smelled any Tom Ford scent yet. TF - for me at that time an intangible topic, highly praised, glorified and far from any imagination how such a scent could smell. Then the first glance, the first interest in the shiny black bottle, the fine grooves running evenly from the lid along the entire bottle. The golden metal plaque, in which the promising letters "TOM FORD" are embedded, and the golden band under the bottle cap. A bottle design that has extraterrestrial features and is somewhat reminiscent of a vial from the alien universe. Timidly, but with burning desire, I took the bottle from the shelf, opened the cap and let the spray sink once, twice, three times onto the test strip. Even before I could get my nose close to the strip, a smell rose into my nose, which made me frown. "Please what" I thought. "Is this it?!". I now moved the test strip towards my nose and inhaled. To be honest, the first time I noticed the smell, it startled me. The first adjectives that came to my mind were repulsive, foul, heavy, morbid and disgusting. Qualities that you don't necessarily want to ascribe to a fragrance that you want to wear on a date or at a dinner party. Full of disappointment and disillusionment, I put the bottle back on the shelf and turned back to designer fragrances that were, in my opinion, more wearable.

It should now take quite a while until we meet again.

2 years later, high summer, 37 degrees Celsius in a gothic and brick paved small town in northern Germany. We just came from a wonderful holiday on the Danish coast and made a short stopover of a few days in the small town. After a relaxed breakfast, which was almost in the second half of the day, we strolled through the enchanting alleys and after a visit to the bookstore we went to the perfumery on the opposite side of the street. On a "I just want to test one or two fragrances" we went into the holy halls and after not too long it stood in front of me again, this bottle, which had stayed in my memory so much. What exactly was the impulse that made me reach for the bottle, I can't say anymore, but I was already about to grab a test strip and watch the spray mist sink onto the slightly rough paper surface. Again I led the test strip to my nose. But what follows now is absolutely inexplicable to me and in no way resembles what I smelled a good two years earlier. I closed my eyes and breathed in:

It started fresh, tangy bergamot and a few nuances of black sour berries. But the prelude only lasts a fraction of a second. Then something creeps up from underneath, from very far down. Opulent, heavy and dark. It doesn't want to reveal itself right away, but it makes it unmistakably clear that it is there, lurking among subtropical plants. But the black truffle is not the only thing that appears before you. On closer inspection, you now take in a whole bouquet of tropical, beautiful plants, of which it cannot be said beyond a doubt that their beauty and seductive smell do not want to conceal their toxic nature. And then it shows itself, the Poison Ivy in this beautiful, but also deadly greenhouse. The single black orchid, which claims the centre for itself with its presence. At her feet and somewhere in the dark, a heavy, sweet and balsamic breeze with a characteristic of incense makes itself felt, which unmistakably underlines the presence of the orchid and leaves no doubt about its sublimity. After some time, a slight hint of a soft, almost Bourbon-like vanilla can still be perceived, which must grow in the immediate vicinity.

I opened my eyes again, but by then it had already happened to me. Poison Ivy had managed to lure me into her garden and let me fall for her. Since then, Tom Ford's Black Orchid has been a very favourite part of my collection


Here in the following a short description without prose. ?

A very expressive floral fragrance, with a fresh, slightly citrusy and berry-sour start, which quickly expresses its heavy and floral opulence, through the black truffle and black orchid. As it progresses and dries, it becomes sweetish, balsamic with a hint of soft natural vanilla and a hint of incense. The shelf life is sensational and can be perceived on clothes well into the next day. The sillage is also very strong and you will definitely be noticed. The bottle is, in my opinion, a work of art that attracts all eyes without screaming "Here, here, look at me! Only the spray head could create a slightly larger spray mist. Like all TF scents, this one is unisex. However, I perceive this one more as a masculine scent with feminine characteristics than the other way around. However, I definitely recommend to test the scent before and maybe more than once. ?