View attachment 70078
A conflation of my last three three shaves - I had been generously gifted a sample of TDS Semyonich by
@Paul L and wanted to get a decent idea of what it is like before venturing an opinion.
Razors - ATT Alu Caypso M (Wizamet Polsilver) or Karve Alu C plate (Feather)
Brushes - Simpson Trafalfar T2 or Semogue 2000 boar or Chubby 1 best
soap - TDS Semyonich
post - witch hazel
a/s - Nivea Sensitive alcohol free
balm - none needed or used.
All good - I enjoyed using the soap very much - top notch. I don't think anybody has questioned the quality of the base but - on the other hand - the scent seems to divide the body of the kirk. In my opinion, it is a bit odd at first but it really grew on me and I ended up enjoying it. Much time has been spent trying to describe, unpick the scent and below is my attempt at it.
Enjoy your shaves - one and all - cheers - I.
Chernobyl in the spring.....
Pripyat, to be precise. Wolf cubs roll and play in the over-grown remains of a children’s swing park – as human youngsters did thirty five years before. Vegetation is taking back over – soon metal and concrete will no longer be visible; nature is healing her wounds. A great irony resulting of this example of human hubris is that one of the biggest nature reserves in Europe has been created; a thousand square miles of woodland rapidly returning to a virgin state. One of the most bio-diverse places on the continent. Bison, elk, boar and bear wander without intervention. Let us go deeper into the woods....
The air is heavy with the smell of trees and soil - moist, damp and fecund. We are almost upon the structure before we recognise it as the work of human hands – logs set above a natural hollow, covered with mounds of fir branches – as camouflage and weatherproofing. There is a partially concealed opening at one end – more like the entrance to an animal’s den than a door. We enter.
It is almost impenetrably dark inside – our nose might be a better guide to the contents and its owner. The single shaft of light that penetrates, illuminates an army issue field jacket; battered and torn, covered in sulphurous smelling bloodstains. The patches are still visible – Soviet VDV – Alfa – 10th Group Kiev Oblast. Spetsnaz paratroopers.
The walls are rough-hewn pine, fragrant resin crystalising in droplets; gaps caulked with handfuls of oakmoss to stop the draught, a tar-paper roof makes it watertight. A powerful smell of kerosene – both from a lamp and also a burner underneath a homemade still – the produce no doubt a greater danger to him than anything the Mujaheddin or Chechens could have devised. A rag impregnated with gun oil hangs next to weapons suspended from the wall – many more than might be needed for solely hunting. A saucer of camphor oil; used as an insect repellant. Our eyes are a little better acclimatised now and it is noticeable that the mats of spruce branches that cover the floor are fresh, having been cut recently – very recently. It is time to go; to be found violating the sanctuary of someone that has taken this much trouble to avoid human contact will not end well.
That's what Semyonich smells like.
