Why wear it? After a night of very little sleep which left me in a mood of very little patience, I prefer to keep my ill humor undercover. A spritz of this pale, clandestine fragrance (halfway between a grapefruit cologne and a licorice fougère) ought to keep everyone around me off my true scent.
What does it do? As I described in my original review, 1725: Casanova gets its dirty work done by pretending to be the paragon of virtue. Notes this fresh and a profile this clean can only mean one thing: this scent must be up to no good. Tell the truth-- when did you ever see genuine innocence wear so blatant a mask?
How do I feel? I wish I could say I felt serene, composed, at ease. Instead I feel like a choirboy of hell.