Derby (1985)
by Guerlain

Only a few masculine fragrances have been so praised to reach the hype status of Derby, but even a fewer really deserved their place in the Fragrance Olympus. Derby is surely among these. A leather chypre that strikes as extremely sophisticated, sort of restrained but never too mannered or polished. Multi facets, rich but not overpowering and incredibly harmonious in its complexity.

No need to go through notes explanation as Derby is one of those masterpieces that any perfumista should experience without esitation. Mandatory.

Among the top masculines of all times together with Knize Ten, Kouros, Yatagan and vintage Fahrenheit and surely among my favorite deliveries from Guerlain.

Barbare Et Tres Civilise.

Mesmerizing!

27th December, 2011.

I'm not a huge leather fan, with the exception of leather bound books. Knize Ten does not move me, except away from the bottle. I approached Derby with tenuous trepidation. So much has been said about Derby starting with the Turin "best of" lists. This review is of the reissued version. My first and last impression of Derby is leather, peppermint, and pepper. I also get a tobacco vibe, although it is not listed as a note. The mid notes soften the opening which is a bit too strong for my nose. Aromatics and florals push through in the mid notes, in conjunction with a distinct pepper note. Patchouli and oakmoss anchor the base. Aramis comes to mind when I wear Derby, not as a similar scent, but as a state of mind. Derby intrigues me with it's complexity and debonair demeanor. Derby is a gentleman's fragrance to be worn with confidence and distinction. Now, please excuse me while I Derby up and retire to my library where "Remembrance of Things Past" awaits me, in all its complex, leather bound glory.

21st December, 2011.

Guerlain Derby is often cited as being the benchmark leather chypre, and rightly so. Good reasons for genuflecting in its presence are the harmonious nature of the accords, the lack of dominance from any quarter, and the golden sheen that seems to adorn its entirety.

The top notes are lightly drizzled with some expensive booze, and garnished with a flourish of pure mint. It becomes more floral and even a little more old-fashioned in the heart, but it is all still composed and restrained. The base is not allowed to dribble away and diminish the overall effect; it seems to support that which has been so lovingly produced.

I do have a preference for slightly edgy and perhaps even flawed chypres like Equipage and the original Gucci Pour Homme, but Derby is almost impossible to fault.

16th April, 2011.

This one instantly reminds me of the botteled paracetamol marketed in Sweden as Alvedon. Lovely associations, since it was the only medicine that ever tasted good when I was a kid, with the exception of licorice cough syrup. The thing with Alvedon was that it was unflavored, openly reveling its chemical tastes instead of covering them with something “the kids would like”, which at its worst could be a combo of chocolate and banana.

An odd Guerlain, but still a Guerlain.

22nd March, 2011.

Derby gets a thumbs up rating from me, but I won't swoon over this one. It definitely smells like a different era. The opening is quite loud, and I find projection to be moderately high. Derby is too formal for me to enjoy; I just don't have the occasion to wear this stuff. The leather is very much under the radar, and really only modifies the patchouli base. I will use up the bottle I have, but I won't replace it once it's gone. I almost want to say "meh". It just doesn't capture my imagination.

5th March, 2011.

Review of the 2005 re-formulation:

The quandary here is in trying to dismantle the delicately orchestrated Derby without mangling or flattening it out. Simply put, it's an exemplary leather chypre with a bountiful citrus-floral-spicy-bitter progression that, in terms of predominant notes, would read bergamot-jasmine-pepper-oakmoss.

It starts out classically Guerlain and then gallops through its cast to arrive at a prolonged bitter leather drydown reminiscent both of Piguet's Bandit and Dior's Jules. In fact, despite the old-school courtliness of its opening, Derby lands with its feet firmly in the 80s, a decade of fougères opened by and (I think) most compellingly represented in, Jules.

The two features of Derby present throughout its development are its leather and mint accords. The leather is observable from the outset but intensifies considerably, commanding the drydown and in the process benefiting from nuances of the green (vetiver), the bitter (moss), and the dusty (patchouli). The mint note is pervasive but unusually drained of colour and it feels like someone blowing cool air over the composition through a handful of silver coins.

My best experiences with Derby consist of a two-stage application, the second spritz an hour after the first. In this way, its mesmerising opening is laid upon an already established darker leather ambience, thereby stacking up perfume time and offering a few minutes of omniscience that smell truly Divine.

18th February, 2011.