Dunhill for Men was launched in 1934, and to me it conjures up an elegant, swanky and sophisticated gentleman who doesn't take himself too seriously. Think William Powell as Nick Charles in the "Thin Man" movies. If it were music, it would be something by Cole Porter or perhaps Duke Ellington. Definitely the Art Deco era, and definitely more city than country.
They don't make 'em like this anymore, so its an olfactory trip back in time to a more genteel era - refined, rich, and classy.
Spice and leather, and pretty intense too! I get some barber shop vibes too.
If Polo Green was thinned out to a EdC strength then amplified and accentuated with more spices you'd get this.
Go easy on the trigger.
A nice enough fragrance. With 4-5 sprays you are left feeling fresh and floral for several hours. A nice, gentle scent cloud remains throughout my work day, which is a nice change to those fragrances that have a screaming opening but go close to the skin an hour later.
It begins to shreak if applied liberally, but I'm sure responsible basenoters will not take issue with this. In my cas, I had to learn the hard way.
The floral heart dominates, heavily influenced by the rose and carnation. The lavender thankfully keeps everything fresh and a touch soapy.
There is no leather in this, or at least not the type of leather we see in contemporary perfumery. The Vetiver is also far in the background.
The scent punches slightly above its weight but do not think this cheapy will be upstaging any classic masculines above its price.
Very poor presentation due to the cheap plastic cap and naked sprayer. The bottle itself is nice though.
This is my first go at writing a review on Basenotes, so here I go!
Dunhill for Men is in my opinion one of the finer fragrances out there--it is definitely the scent of a gentleman. I am actually very upset that this classic has been discontinued. I received confirmation of this directly from Dunhill. The only thing I can think of doing is to write them once a week, urging them to bring this iconic classic back! I suggest that any fan of this scent consider doing the same, whether or not it will compel Alfred Dunhill to revive Dunhill for Men remains to be seen, but it certainly will not hurt to ask.
As far as the notes are concerned, I am not yet qualified to write a detailed review. It is soapy (in a good way) and I do detect citrus notes, lavender, musk and leather. The longevity is very good, much better than most fragrances sold today. Get this while you still can!
14th February, 2015 (last edited: 03rd April, 2016)
The top notes are citrus, lavender, warm leather, and a shot of green floral notes that are quite daringly conspicuous in a scent for men. Dunhill's lavender is very soapy at first, so that the initial impression is of a sophisticated barbershop. This is the perfect scent for Alfred Dunhill: it's solid, impeccably crafted, and (after that initial floral burst,) conservative to the core.
As the citrus and lavender calm down the floral notes meld into a tightly blended accord of vetiver and dry woods. Dunhill's leather is neither the sweet, fruity leather of Royal English Leather, nor the birch tar soaked leather of Creed's Cuir de Russie. Instead it is a very dry, brisk, "sanitized" leather. It's only well into Dunhill's development that it reveals a sweeter, softer aspect. The composition slowly takes on a warmer, almost nutty, character, though plenty of the soapy notes remain in play. Traces of tonka bean and a very gentle almond (heliotrope?) note soften the scent further as it dries down.
Dunhill for Men shares with Blenheim Bouquet and Vintage Tabarome a remarkable ability to project arrogance. There is something in its detached, dry accords that says "You are of no consequence to me." Dunhill for Men is not all that potent, nor does it display any of the brashness common to the 1980s "power scents," but it nonetheless embodies power. Dunhill's power is the power of understatement, the power of the perfectly folded handkerchief, and the power of aristocratic disdain. It's masculine in that peculiarly sexless manner that's so perfectly depicted in the drawing rooms of 19th century English novels. And why not? It is Dunhill, after all!