Bogue Profumo (english)

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"One day I was pruning a cypress and I didn’t want to lose its smell
one day I opened some tiny precious bottles in Istanbul
one day a friend gave me a distiller as a present
one day in Beijing the Taoist temple was a white cloud
one day the smell of the leaves fell off in the wood was the wood
one day in the countryside the lemon’s flowers stood in my hands
Today I decided to share with you the smells I love"

When I entered the Bogue Profumo site (here) and I read these lines, I was moved. Because it is not easy to talk about smells, to explain to others what odors mean for us. And when someone tries and succeeds, I recognize the power of that thing, that thing you feel inside and you can not oppose, driving you to run after a stranger to ask what perfume he's/she's wearing perfume, pushing you to go out in the rain just to smell the wet asphalt, making you seek hyacinths of all possible colors, because each color corresponds to a different smell, that thing that compels you think about scents all the time, and to write about them. Or, in his case, to compose them.

Antonio Gardoni is the author of those words, and when I met him a few months ago, I was pleasantly overwhelmed by his authenticity, a rare thing that I appreciate very much. So I approached the Bogue scents with a penchant for this brand. I could wear both Maai and O/E, both show a net detachment from all Italian contemporary production I know. I think of all the wearable and voluptuous, rich, engaging, open and communicative outputs have been released in recent years by Villoresi, MC Gentile, Alessandro Gualtieri, Nobile 1942, Xerjoff, Antonio Alessandria, Meo Fusciuni, Acampora, Uermì, Bois 1930, Olfattology Nu-Be and all those I'm forgetting, and how the Bogue fragrances "sound" different. They feature something shady, wild, not verifiable, almost as if they were made by someone who feels the fragrant harmony in a different way from us. In short, they are just different. Above all, they are romantic; and for romantic I do not mean "crinolines and fainting," I mean the Sturm und Drang of the soul, that wild and indomitable state that does not submit to social rules and forces you to desire what will kill you. These are the fragrances that Heathcliff would make for Catherine, if he had a perfumery training.
I appreciate them because they do not favor wearability, or formal perfection, but only the olfactory imaginary of Antonio, their author.
Obviously this feature has attracted a lot of attention, especially abroad; Antonio was asked to lend one of his creations for the screening of the film "Scent Of Mystery", which in 1960 proposed to the audience the Odorama experience, and now has been restored (follows)

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