Bibliotheque de Parfum Brutal Story

Brutal Story opens with juicy pineapple, bergamot & apple, layered over rich blackcurrant. A vibrant, masculine blend with sharp, unforgettable energy.

Key Notes:

Top Notes: Bergamot, Indian pineapple, apple, black currant.
Middle Notes: Birch, jasmine, patchouli leaves, rose.
Base: Amber, vanilla, oak moss, musk.

Fragrance Family: Woody & Chypre

Gender: Male

It's hard to imagine a more masculine fragrance. Brutal Story by Bibliotheque de Parfum is a true alpha male. Its sharp sound will grab you from the first second. It intrigues and provokes you to know it better. Undeniably masculine, this fragrance leaves no room for doubt. With just one trace in the air, it drives the beautiful half of humanity wild. There's something in its scent that women simply can’t resist..
The fragrance pyramid begins with exotic accents. A sharp, recognisable composition of Indian pineapple and bergamot. As these 'categorical' notes fade, patchouli and jasmine emerge in all their glory. The birch accent brings balance to the composition. It leads it into softness. The finale of Brutal Story contains all the beauty of amber and musk. There is also vanilla. The note is an aphrodisiac. The same one that is used for flirting.
Brutal Story by Bibliotheque de Parfum is a great perfume for every day. You can feel comfortable in the office or on a date with your significant other. Extremely long-lasting and very sillage. It contains more than 25% of essential oil. Amazing, intriguing – you will definitely like it.

DEDICATED TO HERMAN: Who kept the workshop running.

No one around him understood exactly what Herman was doing, but everyone knew the process. They kept an eye on him. They were watching. They ate up his body and movements with their eyes. In the morning (no one saw him leave, but they saw him return), he would haul freshly cut tree trunks on an armored truck. They were cleaned of branches, without leaves, barely damp. Then he would load them in the yard, tossing them like jasmine flowers. Next, and this was the process people loved the most, he peeled the bark off the trunks.

How did he do that? With his hands, with his own hands. Without tools, without electric saws, just like a cook peeling onions. One move, another, and the bark was gone. After that, he broke the wooden skin into pieces and threw it into the press. The citrus peels he received every week were put in the same place. The smell of the squeezed liquid spread throughout the neighborhood. The smell of damp wood, tar, freshness, musk. A little more time — finally his evening walk. People would come out of their homes to catch him carrying his bottled cargo to a distant market.