Pining Dew 2

An old vase can unlock more memories than a love letter. TOSKOVAT' Pining Dew 2 smells like the memory of a first obsession after too many drinks: tropical fruit is already fermenting, and a salty cheek still stings.

Fermented pineapple is neither bright nor a cocktail garnish. It’s sweet, tart, and deliberately overripe, with black and pink pepper enhancing its nervous, almost effervescent sharpness.

David-Lev Jipa-Slivinschi starts with a parable about an alien who loves very specific pineapples, while his human partner cannot stand how they ferment, and the two don't speak the same language. The absurdity of the story well describes a love where reason is the first to disappear.

Lavender tries to bring sleep, but gin and salty tears pull the scent towards a cold, bitter hangover. Among the notes is "half a year of hangover" — a conceptual trace of exhaustion, not a literal raw material.

On the skin, the fruity clamor gradually dries down into Javanese vetiver and cedar, while tonka softens the edge without full forgiveness. If you're looking for a neat pineapple or an aromatic gin and tonic for summer, this emotional fermentation might be too personal for you.

The drydown leaves salty wood, faded lavender, and the last drop of pineapple at the bottom of the glass — the hangover has passed, but the vase still stands in the same place.