Il giardino segreto delle meraviglie di Abu Al-Hifs (Abu Al-Hifs' secret garden of wonders)

Che cosa succederebbe se un giorno, fulminato da un'idea stramba, decidessi di fare formulare un profumo per una persona?

Beh, succederebbe che in primo luogo dovrei cercare una persona che avesse le competenze tecniche e il “know how” per poterlo fare, poi dargli una lista di possibili ingredienti in mezzo ai quali scegliere, e infine dargli delle direttive sull'impressione generale che vorrei che il profumo evocasse, e possibilmente, in ultimo, anche qualche cenno sui tratti caratteriali della persona a cui il profumo è destinato.

Naturalmente, stiamo parlando di un profumo “bespoke” ossia personalizzato: non stiamo parlando di un prodotto industriale, stiamo parlando di un prodotto artigianale (in cui l'artigianato sconfina spesso e volentieri nell'arte).

Altrettanto naturalmente, stiamo parlando di competenze che poche persone hanno, e… la cosa si complica: perché queste persone sono poche, trovarle è difficile, e spesso tra l'idea iniziale e la realizzazione finale esiste un enorme “hiatus” dovuto ai più vari fattori: distanza geografica, difficoltà di comunicazione, differenze di idee riguardo al prodotto finito.

In questo caso, invece, tutte le fasi si sono meravigliosamente incastonate l'una nell'altra fino a produrre un piccolo gioiello di inestimabile valore: Un songe à Roberta, artigianalmente/artisticamente creato da Abu Al-Hifs.

Note di apertura fresche ma decise (agrumi, anice, coriandolo, garofano), note di cuore in cui la rosa è il principale protagonista, esaltata e addolcita da un tripudio di neroli, gelsomino e caramello, e infine un dry down dolce e legnoso, in cui cedro, ambra, muschio e sandalo si rincorrono: il risultato è un profumo “old school”, armonioso e vibrante, una gentile icona di femminilità senza età, che attende senza avvertire lo scorrere del tempo: il trasfigurare della primavera nell'estate.

And what if one day, zapped by a wicked idea, I decided to create a perfume for a person?

Well, I should look for a person that knows how to do it and has the technical knowledge on how to do it, giving him/her a list of acceptable substances to choose from, guidelines about the general feeling that I would like to evoke, and possibly, last but not least, hints about the personality of the person that the perfume is aimed to.

Obviously, we're talking about a “bespoke” perfume, a one-of-a-kind, tailored, customized piece of art designed to fit at once, like a glove.

Likewise, we're talking about competences that few persons have, and… things get really wicked, now, because between the initial idea and its final fulfillment a large gap frequently occurs. No matter what reason: distance, lost in translation, ideas may differ regarding the effect.

In this case however, everything aligned like a charm to produce a flawless priceless gem: Un songe à Roberta, artisanally/artistically crafted by Abu Al-Hifs.

Fresh and distinctive opening notes (citruses, aniseed, coriander, carnation), heart notes with roses playing major role, highlighted and sweetened by sparkling neroli, jasmine and caramel resting on a sweet and woody dry down of cedarwood, amber, musk and sandalwood playing hide-and-seek : the result is an “old school” pleasant and quivering perfume, a gentle icon of ageless womanliness, she who waits uncaringly about the flow of time: the transfiguring of the spring into the summer.

Different thinks, same frag: an Abu al Hifs' marvel. Un songe à Roberta.

Coming back from my afternoon walk, half hidden by plywood box of items, I found a simple and small yellow envelope, with postage of £ 2.75. It was a gift from the other author of this blog, Michele Simula, a sort of perfume-y detour through the border of day and night. He delicately directed the notes list in Un songe à Roberta. (Yes, it’s more than a customized frag: probably, the most touching homage to my personal perfume obsession I’ve received). 

This fragrance is undoubtedly one of the most labyrinthine, multi-layered, fragrances that I've ever worn. A true tortuous dream, with an unpredictable substratum of unspoken desires. 

Definitely, a fragrance with many different notes and an awesome blending.

Only at first, distracting impression resembles a venerable nineteenth-parfait amour: pink and golden in color, translucent and serene in its hexagonal glass cell.

But I just had to remove the plastic wand to make a magmatic African neroli tighten in the sweaty fist of sirocco. The elytron of a bee resonates in sheltering air and her turgid queen wrings pampered in her hex cell, no longer made of glass, but now waxy and opaque. Vespers candles, a camphorated wheeze ensnared by a black lace mantilla, shady chill of a remote, balsamic note, roses fainting in incense smoke. It is, finally, a clear sky brightly lit by sidereal tracks, the vertigo that precedes sleep in the lap of the night

At the beginning I can smell lots of notes. Honey, a toned down amber, citruses (bergamot, perhaps?), lots of neroli, some floral notes –an assertive rose that towers upon other floral hints, some woodsy notes – mainly guaiac, a thick veil of a numinous redolence, austere, dark spices... 

Good Lord, what is going on here?!

But, not surprisingly, all these notes interfused together masterfully without making the scent chaotic and obnoxious. This is what I'm calling it art in perfumery. In fact, it was created by Abu al Hifs, probably one of the most talented guys who handle notes, extracts, etc… I have been discovering and appreciating  his stunning creations since 2014. He considers himself, “just an amateur”. This simple statement implies that he is light years away from the arrogance of some horrendous self-styled perfume alchemist.

Un songe à Roberta opens with an honeyed bliss, not one of those inane or sugary ones. Honey is kind of mature glance, with a resinous, ambery  vibe, creamy sweetness and warm sensual feeling.

There is a sparkling whirligig of citruses in the background that gives the frag slightly fresh sent but just for a while. Then, the anise note takes the floor and begins to exale its brisk breath.

I clearly perceive a fiery coulee of neroli at the opening: a stiftling, old-fashioned and strange kind of aroma that somehow may remind me of strong “acqua di nanfa” note that mellows beautifully with an ancient rose in a Sicilian grocer’s shop. 

There is a mellow incense –a sort of flailing veil- that gives the scent slightly smoky and slightly powdery feel. Un songe discloses some ylang-ylang in the heart, that it amps up the powdery feeling of the scent a little bit more.

In the mid the rosy, neroli notes settle down dramatically and meanwhile exotic, earthy roots and woods overcome them.

While the scent is restless, just like flames of a bonfire, warm, creamy, incensy, powdery and dry flowery due to neroli, the woosdy note gives to this passionate potion a rooty and earthy feeling that gets a little stronger as time goes by, shaping a more mature and even a bit masculine scent. 

There are some woods in this part as well that they make the scent a little more mature and at the same time taintless.

While the opening was slightly smoky and mind-numbing because of incense, in the base notes is distinctly perceivable a more vaporous aura. I assume that depends on balsamic notes that keep merging through the scent. 

In the base I'm getting almost the same smell as mid, but now I can detect a spicy and kind of peppery aroma beside all these notes plus a faint and hard to perceive animalic note. 

Projection is close to skin and discreet, never shouted nor obtrusive, longevity is awesome. More than 12 hours plus a shower. 

The Color Purple

A guy distilled (edit 22/01/16): Profumeria Nadalini distilled a frag called “Alla Violetta di Parma”, avoiding legal consequences sued of trademark infringement. In fact, “On Wednesday, April 10, 1985, a U.S. federal trademark registration was filed for BORSARI 1870 by HUT INTERNATIONAL S.R.L., MONZA” (cit), and the mythical Violet based scent, some kind of a flag for my hometown, Parma, was eventually  delivered to the counterwords of History. Not a bad frag at all. But one of the must linear, straightforward and… hélas, synthetic violet I have ever smelled.  Neither dramatic nor mysterious. Frosted flowers of viola odorata behind a candy shop window. Alla Violetta di Parma unsettles me a lot instead. I sprayed it on my left wristle, and walked around wearing it... I felt like I had been planting hyacinth bulbs in a black, uberous soil. This perfume is quirky, it smells earthy and almost crud(e). I can’t detect any greeness, I get arable soil, roots, and a feeble hint of bluish red flowers close to my skin. When I attended a catholic elementary school I lived near a park (basically a Renaissance Fortress and then an underground stronghold during WW II, subsequently reconverted in a public park), and I used to pick all the wildflowers  I could find and make awkward little bouquets, which I happened to think were beautiful, and to my teacher's reproach (no surprise she was a puritanic nun), I'd leave them in glasses or even tins full of water in front of the shrine. Well, AVDP smells exactly like those bouquets. That’s a quite odd correlation, I presume, but this scent brings me back to childhood, hooking up earthy trail with wandering around open fields on the border guards of a dismissed fortress, contemplating wildflowers waving under a low, insinuating April wind. It's a peculiar, natural frag, not girly nor pretty at all, but definitely floral. Not a sultry, wicked floral, though. I would enjoy this on a high spirited kind of person, not necessarily a woman, one who spends life outside, in  altruistic occupations and loves nature. Someone whose aim is to show the humanity that exists in everyone through the simplicity of  a thoughtful gesture.

Eternal glow of a spotless sense

We DO believe that perfume research is childish, foolish and fuzzy, and that the act of peering into the dark living essences is part of our lives.

Fragrances are made in our opinion only with materials of the highest quality. Scents are evocative, alive, vibrant: the whine about their restless nature, misinterpreting the unstable features of chemicals compounds, is complaining about the liveliness of a child growing up and eager to play. 

We will continue tirelessly to evoke blissful feelings and unravel sensations, even in a dingy lab like the one where Frankenstein was born, for happiness consists of snatching moments to time going by. We'll take you through our reviews, our stories and our memories of perfumes, in a sort of Proustian trip around an infusion of lime. Forgive us for not being impartial. But the heart has more rooms than a brothel.