Unruh

The Rundholz brand has only been known to me for a few years. Actually a fashion brand of the designers Lenka and Carsten Rundholz, perfumes have also been launched for a few years. The nose behind the fragrances is Art Landi. In advance a euphoric chapeau! The fragrances that Mr. Landi creates for Rundholz are consistently strong in character, partly idiosyncratic and have unique selling points. Thus they fit Lenka's and Carsten's fashion style.

The fragrances are not necessarily simple. They are not unruly, I feel them even as quite accessible, but some complexity opens up only gradually. So also 20Mars2022. One look at the fragrance notes made me frown. Saffron, cinnamon, strawberry, a lot of floral, with the rose I don't like. Only the base reads better, if it weren't for the darn tonka bean and its sister vanilla. That can become yes what...

And how that becomes what! First impression: pepper. Pepper. PEPPER! It quickly joins woody, soft incense. If you stop here to get to know the scent, you're forgiven. But the further journey is worth it. As the tests continue, the complexity of 20Mars2022 gradually reveals itself. The ingredients I read with misgivings are so artfully woven into the composition that they don't stand out disruptively, but complement each other harmoniously. Animal resin, a slightly oriental spice, earthy, tart-dry wood - Everything underpins the overall impression without distorting it.

What remains as an overall impression?
20Mars2022 is a sinister, serious, distancing fragrance. At the same time with a subtle softness and certain animalic promise. A deep, infinite black, with a hint that somewhere there is a small, delicate flame glowing in the darkness. Misanthropic black metal, world-weariness-soaked dark wave, and a touch of New Romantic. Great!
I hope that soon the bars and clubs will open again to be able to perform this olfactory condensed black properly. But also in small circles, in the spare time, to a fine meal or in the circle of friends 20Mars2022 can be worn wonderfully. Preferably in winter, the cold, dead season ;-)

...was much better - and made of wood!" I often heard my elders say, with an ironic wink at the second part of the sentence.
Because yes, not everything was better in the past. Some things were better, many things were easier, some things were also very bad.
But in terms of scents, for my nose, almost everything back then is better than today.

I freely confess to a certain nostalgia regarding my childhood decade. Shoulder pads, oversized blazers, jogging suits in very bad colors, bands like The Cure, Duran Duran, Erasure, New Order, Depeche Mode laid foundations for the black scene, we sent packages to relatives "over there", on TV Rick Simon, Michael Knight, Thomas Magnum - men with enough chest hair to line Bochum's main station with and enough testosterone to drive a medium-sized deer pack to insanity), for homework research we went to the public library, instead of Netflix we went to the video store on Friday nights, choosing movies purely by cover and description, the gender oddities were far away and climate change was still a theoretical side note of a few researchers.
In retrospect, a terribly rigid conservatism of values that put the brakes on many social and political developments, yet provided a supposed sense of stability and security at the time.

And this is where I find myself now with Giorgio. Sounds Italian, but smells American to me, as the addition of "Beverly Hills" might underscore. I associate Italy with a lightness of being, delicate citrus notes on a bed of mossy spice. Giorgio, on the other hand, pushes the full garden into your olfactory bulb, everything that grows there, roses, cloves, oranges, with stalk and stem, with leaf, flower and root, plus various woods, a beehive was also plundered.
Style-forming is for me here especially the triad of aldehydes in the head, patchouli in the heart and oak moss in the base. The is found in many fragrances of this genre.

A masculine fragrance through and through, tart, edgy, complex. Versatile, sometimes a little too loud. Nix with unisex, here is a man a man, no macho, but self-confident and down to earth.
This trinity with the diverse, aromatic, tart-green-spicy potpourri creeps into my nose, wraps itself around my brain and turns back time. I'm sitting next to B.A. Baracus in the GMC van, chasing the cat with ALF or discovering the world with Peter Lustig. Back when a lot of things were simpler, the good guys always won, and my biggest worry was that Mom wouldn't scold me too hard for the hole in my pants.

So fire up the DeLorean, grow some chest hair and maybe a moustache, put on this or a similar retro scent and let's hit the road. Back to the 80s, baby!

Back then, when the fragrance was still called "Mistral Patchouli", I tested it for the first time. But somehow it has not sparked - probably due to wrong or not yet mature patchouli ideas and little olfactory experience. Eight years later, the fragrance, now with a modified name, inspires me all the more.

I love yes patchouli, primarily in its dry, tart expression. Unfortunately, the fine substance is too often plastered with sweetish companions such as vanilla, tonka bean or gourmandigen notes. Accordingly, it is difficult to find a summery patchouli scent. "Bottega Veneta pour Homme Essence Aromatique | Bottega Veneta" has already managed this well. What both have in common is the subtle use of my favorite scent note, as well as their primarily green-herbaceous rather than dry-earthy hues.

"Patchouli Riviera" starts off very fruity-citrusy, with pepper and anise contributing a pleasant, exciting spiciness. The similarity to Ouzo or Pastis described in other comments I can understand. Over time, the scent becomes minimally powdery, a bit more tart, and turns grayish-green, herbaceous, with a pleasantly toned-down freshness. Not much happens now, the scent becomes minimally woodier over time and quieter and quieter until it fades away after about 5-6 hours.

Now what about the patchouli? I didn't warm up to "Mistral Patchouli" because I missed the scent. At the time. Today I know, there is not only earthy-peaty patchouli. It also comes in fresh-green-herbaceous coinage, like this one. I love both. Now. Just the strong floral direction I do not like. Still.

In general, "Patchouli Riviera" thrills me with its absence of overly bold citrus or excessive freshness (as offered by far too many summer perfumes), as well as its very exciting anise spice. This, together with its manageable development, secure it a place in the perfume selection for the summer and warm spring days.

...now first to the Greek, delicious gyro plate and a glass of ouzo. :D

I came to this wonderful fragrance completely unexpectedly via a generous exchange. Thank you, dear Kepla!
The first impression: irritation. Bensimon? Never heard of it. Is that a Pokemon? (Side note: When the pocket monsters appeared in Germany, I had already outgrown the subject matter, otherwise there could be a comment here linking scent impression and said phenomenon in a whimsical way...)

So without further ado the Internet thrown on. Bensimon is a French lifestyle brand, founded by Serge Bensimon. His grandfather had imported us-American second-hand clothing for the French market, his grandson makes since the 1980s in clothing, shoes, cosmetics and accessories. And stop perfumes, three in number. The fragrances are apparently not available for purchase anywhere online. (Further side note: The previous owner bought "Cologne 1993" while in Paris. So physically. With personal contact and so on. Currently unimaginable...) The owners are represented here on Parfumo accordingly rare.

Long speech, no sense, on to the fragrance.
The individual components read promising (which must first mean nothing, how often has the totality of the individual ingredients moved me to a test, only to be disappointed by the overall composition ...).
At the very beginning, it becomes citrusy-fruity, soon joined by herbaceous lavender and a delicate hint of patchouli. I smell parallels to Guerlain's "Héritage" in the phase. In the next half hour, the patchouli becomes stronger, wonderfully dry and unsweet, similar in impression to Ulrich Lang's "Nightscape". Patchouli now dominates the fragrance, delicately surrounded by powdery myrrh and slightly animalic sandalwood. Amber and musk complement these impressions, musk also complements the unsweet vanilla base reached after a few hours.
As an overall impression, a slightly powdery-animalic, dry-earthy patchouli fragrance with moderate radiation and durability.

Very nice, even if the wheel is not reinvented here. "Cologne 1993" may move in and will complement my patchouli portfolio until the last drop

There are fragrances that thrilled me right away. There are fragrances that bored me or repelled me, right from the start. And there are some fragrances that I had to work out. No easy getting to know, no first positive or negative impression that solidifies. Just irritation, testing again and again, until my opinion of the fragrance was fixed.

Such a fragrance is "Akowa". With no fragrance so far journey has taken so long. It took several fillings. Tasting again and again, on the wrist, in everyday life, with the help of strangers and known noses. I think now my opinion is solidified, despite remaining tiny little question marks. 100% tangible "Akowa" is not yet, but I know now, I like him very much, he may move in. Soon.

Especially the patchouli has made me curious about "Akowa". Based on the fragrance components rather dry, unsweet, so my hope. But it always comes differently. Patchouli enters the stage late. Before that, a panopticon of impressions unfolds. At the beginning, very briefly, citrusy, tangy notes. Shortly after, it becomes green, but with a tart dry orientation. At the same time earthy, smoky. Floral elements resonate. The tart, dry, smoky green gradually takes on a very interesting freshness. The impression, however, is not that of a typical bright, cheerful freshness, as is so often found. "Akowa" seems serious, distant, aloof with the toned down, "dark" freshness. Going by the fragrance components, I smell fig leaf, vetiver, musk, quite. And finally my favorite patchouli joins in, discreetly, in the background, not loud and boisterous. It frames the composition. But breaking it down into individual parts doesn't do "Akowa" justice. There is more, not tangible, not definable, merely resonating with the present notes. All this forms the overall impression of this fascinating, irritating fragrance. Irritating in the best sense, demanding and making curious.

It is rarely difficult for me to pour my impressions into linguistic forms. This fragrance is an olfactory experience the likes of which I have rarely had.
Akowa, who are you?