Going on Holiday

I'll be going away for a couple of weeks. Tomorrow I'm going to Iceland to visit my family (yes, I am Icelandic, not a fact that tends to make you very popular these days...). Then I'll be travelling in Sweden, seeing friends and hopefully relaxing a bit in between. I probably won't be updating my blog during this time, but don't forget about me, I'll be back!

To all of you that are reading this, I still can't get over the fact that you people are out there, reading what I write. Thanks to each and every one of you, from the bottom of my heart. And have a great summer, you too!

Iris Silver Mist by Serge Lutens

Scents inspire me like nothing else. When I try on a scent I get all full of ideas, I see pictures in my head, I think of music, sounds, food, stories, you name it. Iris Silver Mist is a Serge Lutens cult classic. It has been reviewed many times by people who know a lot more about perfume than I do. It's also the scent I get the strongest feelings/pictures about. I've been working this review for a while as wanted to find the right words. I'm realising I probably never will, so here goes my take on Iris Silver Mist.

Imagine you were alive some hundred years ago. Maybe you were a young man, forced to go out to fight in a war that's now long forgotten. Nobody bothered to give you any training and proper equipment. Before you knew it you were lying face down on the battlefield, bones broken, life bleeding out of you. Or maybe you were a young girl living at the same time, one day strange armed men showed up at your house, took you away into the forest, they mutilated and raped you just for the fun of it and left you do die alone in the woods.

After spending hours, maybe days, in utter agony there comes a time when the pain starts to fade. The soul is finally slipping away from the body. Death is reaching out her mighty hands towards you and you're only relieved to see her, happy to return her embrace.

That very moment, when still feeling Mother Earth against your body, breathing in the scent of her soil and roots, mud and grass, fertilized with your own blood. You can also smell what is about to come, there is airy incense with a hint of spices. At that very moment of transition, that is the smell of Iris Silver Mist.

This is a masterpiece of a perfume. It manages to be earthy and ethereal at the same time. It's very sad but also hopeful. It's the best scent I know of to wear when I'm feeling sad. It grounds me, comforts me and at the same time promises that things are going to be better. I love it and I'm rating this at least 5 out of 5.

Artwork by Robert M. Place

Le Maroc Pour Elle by Tauer Perfumes

Wearing "Le Maroc Pour Elle" has been a bit of a challenge for me. I'm sure that for at least 10 times or so, I've sniffed my wrist and thought, "Oh no, that's a note I don't like". Then, when leaning in to take a closer whiff, ready to condemn it forever, I realised "Hey, this is so not me, but I like it". The scent has been tip toe dancing on that thin line of wearability but every time so far it has landed on the ok side. 

In a way "Le Maroc Pour Elle" makes me think of Degas, a French painter that lived 1834 to 1917. He is famous for (among other things) his paintings and drawings of ballet dancers. When taking a first look at his drawings you sometimes think, "Oh, that can't be right, that girl is all wrong looking" and then you look closer and realise that he's been drawing his model correctly, all right, he just caught her in a very odd angle or in a middle of a movement, out of equilibrium. "Le Maroc Pour Elle" is just like that, I keep thinking "The guy who made this, what was he thinking?" and then then I sniff a bit more and go "Hmmmm, interesting...". And I'll choose interesting over perfect any day.

So, what does "Le Maroc Pour Elle" smell like? In the top note there is orange blossoms, sawdust, bad breath and tooth decay. To be honest, it's nasty. But fortunately this only lasts a couple of minutes. Things soon settle into a jammy rose, jasmine and cedar accord. I'm also getting vanilla. At this time "Le Maroc Pour Elle" reminds me a lot of SL "Cuir Mauresque" and I've been trying them wrist by wrist to compare. They both pack a similar rose and jasmine but "Le Maroc Pour Elle" is rougher and has a much more powdery vanilla feel to it. Cuir Mauresque is fruitier, tighter, and leaning more towards leather and cinnamon.

During drydown "Le Maroc Pour Elle" turns into a different beast altogether. The flowers go away and the wooden notes, cedar and sandalwood, get more prominent. At times I feel cedar with a hint of orange and rose jam. At times I'm getting rice pudding, spiked with vanilla, covered with dark chocolate shavings.

Another interesting thing about Degas is that he never really completed his paintings. When looking closely there tend to be some areas that are perfect and other areas that are just sort of smudged over as he didn't bother about them. I find this rather endearing, since I'm just the same, the fun stuff gets done and other things I tend to forget about. I feel that "Le Maroc Pour Elle" also is a little bit like this. The notes dance around, at times they come together perfectly, at times something is sticking out a little bit to far but mostly everything just comes across as charming and fun.

I'm rating it 4 out of 5. This has been a character building experience for me that has broaden my views on what I like to wear and I always take an extra liking to scents that broaden my horizons.

All pictures are made by Degas.

CB I Hate Perfume, 3 from 1

I've been going through my stash of CB I Hate Perfumes and here are reviews of 3 of the ones I like.

Winter 1972 is what I reckon CB:s masterpiece. There is a very skeletal version of the CBIHP signature soil accord, giving the impression of breathing crisp air outside on a chilly winters day. This scent supposed to be about snowy fields and hand knit woollen mittens. I'm not getting that. I'm getting being outside on one of the last days of winter. Most of the snow is gone, but the ground is still frozen. It's still cold but there is a, barely noticeable, hint that spring will be coming this year as well. The way CB captures the sleeping nature and the promise of what is to come never ceases to amaze me.

To see a flower is really rather similar to Winter 1972, when smelling them side by side. There is the soil accord again but with a generic floral element added to it. The fresh air that I'm getting from Winter 1972 is not as strong. There is no walking on an airy field, with this one you're crawling on all fours, marvelling at the wonders of nature, looking at insects buzzing around and finally burying your nose in a delicate little flower you've just found. This is a subtle and very realistic rendition of nature that I love. According to the CBIHP site, this scent was inspired by a poem by Georgia O'Keefe:

In a way,
nobody sees a flower really,
it is so small,
we haven't time and to see takes time like to have a friend takes time.

Beautiful, isn't it

Patchouli Empire starts out resinous, bordering on rubbery, but within 10 minutes it settles into unadorned patchouli. It's peppery with a tiny hint of mothballs. I find it a unique scent among the CBIHP:s. There is no signature soil accord, no nature, it does not feel like a time or a place or a situation, it's just patchouli. Maybe I'd say this one feels more like a conventional perfume in that aspect. It's light and wearable and great if you just want patchouli and nothing else.

For other, a bit meatier, reviews I've done on CB I Hate Perfume, take a look at:
Russian Caravan Tea
In the Summer Kitchen

Pic: Wikipedia

Summer Scent Safari

This weekend I spent with my in-laws that live in the Swedish coutryside. Since I've been a bit touchy lately about what fragrances I wear I bought with me a little collection of fragrances I know I like, just to be on the safe side. It turned out I really didn't had to worry. Outside my mother-in-laws kitchen window there is a huge jasmine bush and it was in full bloom, enveloping the whole house in a massive cloud of jasmine scent, in its crazy indolent glory. If that doesn't lift ones spirit, I don't know what does.

Here are some pics of the great smelling flowers I found strolling around in the garden.

Jasmine bush

Close up of jasmine flowers.

Yellow lillies

Bluebells, I think.

Daisies.

Wax plant, this one is potted indoors

Pouring my heart out (negativity warning)

I've had a lousy week here, lots of family issues; grandfather is very ill, I have plane tickets to go see him in a couple of weeks, but he might not hang on for that long. My parents are going through a divorce, which means lots of old dirt is coming up to the surface, so to say. All of this is affecting me a lot, bringing me down. And always, when I don't feel good, I tend to make the worst decisions in all aspects of my life, perfume included.

Two days ago I wanted something that would pick me up so I tried Acqua di Parma Blu Mediterraneos Bergamotto di Calabria. It's lemons and bergamot on a bed of ginger, vetivier and cedar. It did not work. Those lemony notes felt like they were just grating and grating and grating on my brain all day. Unfortunately the scent was pretty weak so I managed to wash it off.

Yesterday I tried Ormonde Jaynes Sampaquita. I thought it would be an undemanding generic floral bouquet type of thing. Maybe not that special, but if nothing else, a nice smelling little thing to wear throughout the day. I felt as wearing a hedgehog inside my clothes. An unlikely scenario, but uncomfortable nonetheless.

But one thing I managed to get right and that was randomly putting on a jacket that was smelling enough of Pradas Infusion d' Iris to block out most of the Sampaquita residues. I didn't know I was craving iris myself but it perfectly hit the spot. Iris is a note I find very difficult to describe. You either know what it smells like or you don't. There is no generic "rooty" term for notes coming from roots (or from synthetics pretending to be roots) like there is "floral" or "fruity".

Iris also happens to be my daughters middle name. I didn't name her primarily after a perfume note, it is a girls name in most of Europe (and in other English speaking countries), isn't it? We have a silly little tradition in my family, starting with me, that girls middle names are flowers. My middle name is Soley, which means buttercup in Icelandic, and my daugther got Iris.

Anyway, today, I'm not taking any chances with how I smell. Scent of the day is SL Iris Silver Mist and things are already feeling a little better.

Russian Caravan Tea by CB I Hate Perfume

It was CB I Hate Perfume that first took me from a person fleetingly interested in perfume to becoming a bit of an obsessive. I don't even remembered how I first heard about them, probably somewhere on the Internet. I read about Christopher Brosius and his approach to perfume making, about how he gets inspiration for his perfumes from incidents or places and before I knew it I had ordered something like 20 samples from the Perfumed Court and I've been an addict ever since then.

CB's scents are very much hit and miss, some are great, some are not for me but they are all interesting. The first one I fell in love with was "Russian Caravan Tea". The official description is "Smoked black Indian tea, bergamot and the hint of shelves full of old books".

On me it's not really like that. I get no trace of smoke and the bergamot is soft, not at all like the bergamot that flavours "Earl Grey" type of teas. It is lemony bordering on mandarin. The whole concoction smells like nice cup of English Breakfast Tea with some lemon in it to perk it up. It's a very comfy scent, wearing it is like first having a long shower, slipping into a bathrobe and then sitting down on the balcony in the sun, having brunch. It's also doesn't evolve very much. The citrus is a bit more pronounced in the beginning but apart from that everything stays pretty much the same.

The samples I've got are water based and I often read complaints bout that they are weak smelling and how they don't last for very long. It's true, they are weak and I think the longest time I've been able to feel a CB is for about 4 hours, they often disappear after 2. To me that is not such a big issue. I rather dab it on several times during a day than wearing myself out smelling to much from the start, but I suppose everybody feels a different way in this matter.

I'm rating it 4 out of 5. It's a comfy comfy comfy scent. When I think about it, it would probably be the perfect scent to wear when you know you're in for a terrible day at the office.

Orange Star by Tauer Perfumes

Orange Star starts with a bang, supernova style. There is orange peel, mandarins, aldehydes, honey and spices all over the place. I'm picking out cinnamon and cloves. It's sweet and syrupy and I keep thinking this should be pretty close to what you get if mixing Coca-Cola with one of those high quality Italians orange sodas in small bottles (San Pellegrino I think they are labelled), and then boiling everything down to a concentrate. 

Pretty fast the initial fruit frenzy of Orange Star calms down. What is left is warm and resinous. I'm getting a lot of resin actually, I'm a little curious about it as I haven't seen that in any other review. When I was a kid I used to play the violin and there is a note in Orange Star that reminds me a lot of the stuff you rub onto the bow, in order to get a sound. Also, there is still orange zest and some lemongrass that add a herbal bitter note. Half a day later there is resin and vanilla. I'm not catching any citrus or lemongrass right now.

This is my second Tauer, I've only tried Zeta before and I'm amazed about how much there is to discover in them. They both have such a distinguished style, it's difficult to explain, but these are big scents. Never a dull moment with a Tauer on your arm!

I'm rating it 3 out of 5. It's a big scent that everybody should try. I'm just finding that resinous note a little bit to much at the moment. Maybe it will work better in winter?



Pic: phenomenica.com

Jo Malones French Lime Blossom

Next in line for Citrus Week is Jo Malones French Lime Blossom. Undina pointed out to me that this one isn't really a citrus, but more of a green floral. You are right about that, but as I'm not a details person, anything with any far fetched citrus connection can be a Citrus Week candidate so here comes French Lime Blossom.

It starts with a crisp lime note and gradually fades to floral. I easily pick out roses and liles of the valley. I love the idea of how all Jo Malones fragrances are made to be layered  and I've really tried to like them. Unfortunately we have some sort of skin chemistry issue. I've tried 4 scents from them and it is always the same story. At first spray I'm thinking "wow, this one is lovely, why did I think I didn't like Jo Malone". After an hour or so I think, "hmmm, maybe this one was not so great on me". After 3 hours or so they have matured into full fleged distaster and I'm rushing to the toilet to wash them off. Sadly, French Lime Blossom was no exception. After a few hours it smelled like sharp detergent and I couldn't bare to walk around wearing it.

So I'm rating French Lime Blossom a 2 out of 5. Jo Malones do smell great on other people, so if you tend to like them you should probably just ignore my negative review here, but this one was not for me.

Acqua Di Parma Blu Mediterraneo Arancia Di Capri

Acqua Di Parma is one of those brands that have been around forever. I sniff them every now and then and keep thinking "Wow, this will be great for summer". Unfortunately summer is not a thing one can take for granted here. Some years it's cold and rain for 3 consecutive months and then it's autumn with just more cold and rain coming. But when genuine summer does show up the whole society gets transformed; everyone eats outdoors trying to soaking up as much sun as possible, nobody gets any work done, there is a smile on every face. Right now we do have summer here. The weather has been near perfect for the past few days, 27 degrees Celsius and sun all the time, so it's time for Acqua Di Parma.

Arancia Di Capri means Orange from Parma and it opens with the nicest, liveliest and most authentic orange note I might ever have encountered in a perfume. It's an orange that has had the benefit of ripening in the Mediterranean sun until it's perfect. There is sweetens, tartness, a hint of bitterness and, above all, juiciness that makes your mouth water.

After 10 minutes or so almost all scent disappears, very odd and a bit sad, but if you hang on for some 10 minutes more it's back again in a new guise. The initial power fruit is gone and what is left is a soft and (to me) very feminine citrus with floral qualities and a classical feeling. It reminds me of orange blossoms without that little funky dirty note they sometimes carry (non-indolic?), softened by caramel. The scent is not very strong but I find that the staying power is great, it lasted all day on me.

The Blu Mediterraneo series consists of 6 scents with aromatherapheutic values. When I think af aromatherapy I think of something sharp and herby that smells refreshing in a spa like setting but maybe not on myself. Aranca di Capri is nothing like that. According to the card that came with my sample it's supposed to be "cool and relaxing".

I'm rating it 5 out of 5. It's my new favourite orange scent for uncomplicated sunny summer days.

O de L`Orangerie by Lancome

When I'm waiting for people or just have some time to kill I tend to end up in a drug store, sniffing what is there to sniff. This morning I did exactely that as I was early for an appointement. I was greeted by a young and very sweet sales assistant, super enthusiastic about the new O de L`Orangerie by Lancome, a flanker to O de Lancome from 1969. The idea of "Citrus Week" was at the time brewing in my mind so I went for a little trial spray.

O de L`Orangerie starts out with a cheery note of lemon and orange blossoms. The lemons went away almost immediately, giving  the organge blossoms space to sweeten and mature on my skin. After two hours all citrus was gone and what was left was a very generic floral containing jasmine and muguet.

I liked the beginning, just the right amount of sweetness verses tartness. Very appropriate for summer. Thy drydown was one big snorefest.

I'm rating O de L`Orangerie 3 out of 3. Great if you're worried about offending people with your fragrance, there is no way to go wrong with this one. But for myself I like something with a bit more character.


Pic: Fragrantica.com

Announcing Citrus Week

It's finally summer and I've been finding during the last days that I'm carving citrus fragrances all around me. So, I figured I'd run a little citrus theme here on my blog.

Whenver I say "I'm going to do this or that for a week/month etc" it's a sure thing that it will not happen, I get tired of myself and start craving anything else. So my citrus week might not actually be a week. It might be just today or it might last for a very long time, but I'm aiming for about a week. And it will start today, on a Thursday. I'm not the kind of person that get nitty gritty details, like when a week is supposed to start get in my way. So, here is Citrus Week!

Pic: aftonbladet.se

Spring Scent Experiment, part 3

Anyone who's not familiar with my Spring scent experiment can read up in these blog posts: Spring Scent Experiment 1 and Spring scent experiment 2

I've now managed to create a alcohol based blend that's actually not that stinky. It took a while getting it right and I wouldn't say it's deep and mesmerizing in any way, but at least it's not painful to inhale.

I used the following:
5 ml strawberry greens extract
1 ml rowanblossom extract
5 drops of vanilla extract

The result is something that smells a bit like strawberry white chocolate. The strawberry greens smell of, well, strawberries, the vanilla is barely detectable and the rowanblossoms add weight and oiliness, thus creating a scent vision of strawberry white chocolate.

So now I am thinking, what should I use it for? A problem is that it's weak, it's difficult to feel a thing unless you're sniffing it directly from the cup. If I rub some in I don't feel much after the initial minutes. I thought about getting a soap making hobby kit and pour it into soaps, but when reading on the internet it seems like you're supposed to have an oil based blend to do that. So, now I'm a bit at loss with what I should do with my creation. Pour it into my perfume free deodorant, maybe? That one at least I'm pretty sure is alcohol based.

This was my first try, I just wish I had more stuff to blend from, with a proper library of scents, I would have so much fun! And I've ordered Mandy Aftels "Essence and Alchemy" so if anyone has felt alarmed by my approach to things, just breathe calmly and relax, everything will be just fine.

M/Mink by Byredo

Living in Stockholm it's difficult to avoid Byredo, Swedens only perfume "house". They have a prime selling spot manned with dedicated sales people at the only department store here in Stockholm that has a department dedicated to niche scents. In the blogosphere they get bashed around a lot, some claim that, scentwise, they don't have a clue what they're doing and that they exist only because insecure 30-somethings like to have a nicely designed and pricey looking bottle to show off. Myself, I like to believe that I'm keeping an open mind but I haven't found a fragrance from them that I'd like to wear. That does not mean that there isn't one that hasn't caught my attention.

Stigs harido

Yesterday I went perfume sniffing at NK (the department store mentioned above) and I sprayed a splash of M/Mink on a test strip. I got a very strong scent association right away. When I was in grade 1-3 in elementary school (6 to 8 years old) I lived pretty far away from my school. There was this guy named Stig that used to drive his green minivan and come every day to pick us up and take us to and from school. Stig was maybe in his 50-ies, had a few whisps of streaky grey hair in a comb over. He had this constant olfactory aura of camphorous cough tablets and very sharp old school hair pomada. This was backed by that sour kind of body odour that some guys have that heads towards urine whenever they break out in a sweat.

Now, Stig was not the type of guy who would waste a ride so occasionally he would do some private errands, leaving us kids in the car waiting while he did whatever he did. I especially remember one time, he was gone for pretty long, we were getting bored and while going through the car we found a porno mag under the front seat. At the time, I might have had some basic notions on how human reproduction happens, but learning there is such a thing as oral sex did come as a chock.

So now you have a basic picture of they guy. I think most of us know a Stig, for some personality types there are just more to go around than what meets the demand if you know what I'm saying. How anyone could leave Stig in care of their kids is a big mystery to me and it's an even greater mystery how Byredo have managed to create a scent that to me feels like having Stig standing right next to me.

When checking in on Byredos site, they say that M/Mink is all about ink. Now I never tried it on my skin, just on a strip if paper as the scent felt as it was as far away from my comfort zone as anything could ever be, so I've probably missed out some. But, to be honest, ink never crossed my mind.

The official notes of M/Mink are:
Top: Adoxal
Heart: Incense
Base: Patchouli leaf, clover-honey, amber

I'd never heard of Adoxal so I looked it up and this is how it is described, according to Givaudan:

Olfactive note:
Fresh, Aldehydic, Marine, Powerful, Floral
Description: Adoxal blends extremely well with floral notes such as muguet and cyclamen, as well as with fruity and woody compositions. It can also be seen as having a typical "fresh linen" odour which makes it very useful for detergent perfumes. Adoxal has a natural, ozonic aspect. Powerful, it must be used carefully.

I can tell you, M/Mink is NOT about fresh linen. It's a very unique scent that is interesting to perfume nerds as it is so different. I've been thinking about who could possibly want to wear it and the only one I can come up with is some kind of hipster guy making an ironic statement about something. Guys like Stig would be scared away both by the bottle design and the price. And why would they be interested in it, after all, if they go unwashed for a while and making sure they are dousing themself with pomada every day. they can sport it all for free.

Fourreau Noir by Serge Lutens

Another day, another Serge.

Fourreau Noir starts out masculine with notes of ashy lavender and dusty vanilla set against a backdrop of smoke that varying between the burning of fresh wood, charcuterie and incense. Vanilla and lavender are homely notes that I didn't have very high hopes about but putting them in a setting like this makes them interesting and very disturbing. I'm thinking about a post apocalypse movie photage. First you see a deserted city, houses in ruins, fires, rubble everywhere. You zoom in on the rubble and you see it consists of burned childrens toys and smashed up household items. If anyone remembers the intro of Terminator 2 you know what I mean. Then camrera zooms out and in the midsts of all destruction there is a single lunatic in a tattered robe, conducting a caricature of a Chatolic mass by himself. That's the start of Forreau Noir.

After an hour everything changes. The movie is over and it's time to go home and grab a snack. It also seems to be time for a gender change. The smoke has faded and what is now left (on me) is one of the nicest gourmand scents I've encountered. Imagine going to France and having the most exquisite lavender and tonka caramels ever. Or crumbly lavender butter cookies that melt in your mouth. That's what I've been smelling like in the past few days. And there is something more in there, something magically delicious I can't get a grip on that makes this scent come together perfectly on my skin. Something that feels a little bit salty and dirty. Something exciting.

I'm rating Fourreau Noir 5 out of 5. I've been bad mouthing vanillish scents on this blog before and like almost every time I bad mouth anything I'm living to regret it. So, vanilla or tonka bean or whatever guise you come in, I'm sorry for all I've said, you're really ok. As long as you're sticking with your new pals, lavender and smoke, I think I love you.

Spring scent experiment, part 2

My two little jars containing rowan blossoms, mentioned and depicted in the blog post Spring scent experiment, have been waiting in my liquor cabinet for a few days. Every now and than I've opened the jars and pondered on the smell inside. It's very hard to describe. The scent of rowan blossoms is pretty funky to start with and after maturation it is now sweeter, fruitier and somehow oilier and wider. If I'm going to try to explain, think about fermented honeysuckle that's on the verge of going bad and you'd be somewhere in the right neighbourhood.

A scent like this might need something fresher and lighter to go with it, so I've been thinking about using green or citrus notes to add a bit of freshness. I've also been thinking about the old chefs proverb: "Grows together, goes together". Great to keep in mind while composing a meal, it will be interesting to see how it works when composing a perfume.

Yesterday we were having strawberries with cream for dessert and I collected the green little cut-offs from the strawberries and put into alcohol. I was hoping to capture the "greenness" that should rightfully be in them. However, the result is more on the fruity side so far. An idea I have is to pair the strawberry booze and rowan blossom extract with nettles. Or maybe I might jump on the dessert bandwagon and go for vanilla instead? Hm, I'm waiting for my cold to pass before I decide... 

About the oil, I'm thinking of pairing the rowan with lemon and spices, heading towards lemon gingerbread. Might not be so "springy" but I've a feeling that the oil will carry the spices well and the lemon will mostly just be a contrast. I'm getting inspiration from South Indian food where it's common, when finishing a dish, to fry spices in a good helping of oil and then pouring the oil on top of your dish. Again, when my cold is getting better I'll be ready to start the real experimentation. God, I'm looking forward to that!

"Cuir Mauresque" by Serge Lutens

I've had a horrible cold for a few days, literally not being able to smell a thing, but today I finally felt better and decided it was time for a new Serge. I closed my eyes and drew a sample from my "untried" little bag - and got Cuir Mauresque.  I remembered it was supposed to be a leather scent and happily dabbed some on. What I got was dead on "geléläppar" (= jelly lips in Swedish, depicted above), a very artificial tasting type of candy that I have a hard time believing that anyone likes. The taste can be described as an unholy marriage between raspberry jam and artificial cherry flavouring.

After a while the scent deepened and I could make out Mexican canela chocolate (chocolate mixed with cinnamon) as well. Then, while sniffing my wrist, thinking about how I could not understand the supposed greatness of Cuir Mauresque, I had what can best be described as an olfactory epiphany. It felt like, right there under my nose, all of a sudden the scent just turned upside down, revealing something completely different. While still smelling exactly like a few seconds ago it was now dead on leather. It was like the picture on the right, both a young woman and an old woman, but you can not see the both of them at the same time.

The leather scent felt dark, sensual and somehow fun, I think the knowledge of the "geleläppar" being there made me not being able to take things very seriously. I kept thinking about being a teenager and sneaking into a British gentlemens club after hours and get secretly drunk on their booze. The feeling you can imagine having when you and your friends put your feet up on the tables, getting all comfortable in the luxurious leather chairs, giggling and giggling. One of the things I regretfully never have done.

It's interesting when you try several scents from the same manufacturer how some notes are repeated in different settings. I think I felt something similar to the "geléläppar" in Bois de Fruits as well. But set in a cedar surrounding it felt much more relaxed and at ease.

I'm rating this one 3 out of 5, I love leather and possibly, one day, I might getting used to and starting to like the "geléläppar" note as well but for now it's just to weird.