When I found out that Andy Tauer was releasing his first new fragrance in a while, I decided to blind-buy it on the day it was released. My bad.

I don’t enjoy writing negative reviews, and I don’t usually do it. Mainly because I write as a hobby, and I prefer to spend my “hobby” time talking about things that bring me joy and happiness.

Plus, I think of myself as a nice person, so criticizing other people gives me a little bit of anxiety. But Tauer Perfumes is going to continue to be wildly successful, and Andy Tauer says he hates bloggers, so he’s probably not going to pay any attention to whatever I say, as he shouldn’t.

So… I might as well just put this out there and then let it go.

My ordinary “process” to write about this fragrance would have been to wear it five to ten times (minimum), while I look up obscure and interesting facts about the actual air of the Swiss Alps, trying to find subtle hints to the fragrance’s inspiration, and also choosing just the right mood-photos to feature.

I’m hoping I won’t own this long enough to do all that, and I’m not going to put that much energy into it, so I’m calling it a Quick Sniff. I will describe all phases of the fragrance, based on two back-to-back wearings, without any other accoutrements like mood lighting, ambient music, and wall decor.

In other words, this will be the kind of very cursory review that most people are accustomed to from watching fragrance videos (except I’m not going to tell you at the end whether you should buy it or not).

But I do like photos, and I’ve heard that visual aids are imperative, so please enjoy this lovely guy – the photo is labeled Bern, Switzerland.

FRAGRANCE REVIEW PLAY-BY-PLAY

First Spray: lemon balm and…. uh oh…. here comes some laundry detergent. The “plant-powered” sustainable kind.

Five minutes: I’m in the shower of a mid-tier hotel. This is their “signature” house brand body wash. I’m not mad at it. I’ll use it, but I’m not trying to take the rest of the bottle home. Google search “are fragrance reboxing videos a thing?”

Fifteen minutes: Still in the shower, but the shower is now like an elevator. The whole thing starts moving downward, with me still in it, floor by floor. All of a sudden it starts to plummet, and soon I’m still in a shower, but it’s not in a hotel anymore. It’s in an apartment shared by three college guys whose mothers live really far away. And — ewwww — OMG the shower curtain almost touched me! It’s covered with that pink-orange mold, Serratia marcescens. It smells musty, like an old pile of fish scales and potato peels. I look around and see it all over the tile, and even forming droplets on the ceiling, where the condensation hangs for hours after the shower is used.

Forty Minutes: Pink mold must is starting to fade. Non-descript orchid and tonka are coming on strong. There is a hint of nutmeg, but the overall vibe is very much “Orchid Melt & Pour Soap” like a base you’d get at Hobby Lobby. The kind that your awkward niece uses to “make” glycerin soaps by melting shit together on the stove.

One Hour: The orchid soap has melted down into a sad glob of tonka, floating in some sticky goo in the soap dish. It has a similar level of interest and projection. After two hours, it’s gone.

L’AIR DES ALPES SUISSES, FINAL THOUGHTS

This fragrance wasn’t the breath of fresh air I was hoping for, YMMV.

To be perfectly honest it reminds me of things like Twilly, or Aura, where it seems that the fragrance was built around an aroma molecule rather than an idea. Like when you find something at the flea market that catches your eye, so you take it home and then you have to figure out what to do with it. I have a lot of respect for Andy Tauer as an artist and perfumer, but in this particular fragrance I’m missing both the emotional and the intellectual connections that I usually find in his work.

As always, try it for yourself.

I purchased my bottle of L’Air du Alpes Suisses at full retail price from Luckyscent. This review is unsponsored and unsolicited.