Grey Flannel (1976)
by Geoffrey Beene

Man -- this has been around for years -- only ok for me -- smells a bit passe, especially towards the end with the oakmoss overdose. I know lots of people who still really rate this, including women (maybe that's why I'm not bowled over -- need to see a shrink).

Ditto what the earlier reviewers said about the notes; they are rather distinctive and decipherable, making Grey Flannel one of the easily recognisable scents. Nothing remotely dated about it either. If I didn't know the production history I would never, not in a million years, have guessed it to be a product of the '70s. This is truly an amazing, groundbreaking scent which will make a fine addition to any gentleman's wardrobe. I hope it will never be discontinued.

Dredged this up out of the distant past because I saw the review in Turin's book. It really is an extraordinary scent, and I remember that when it was introduced it was very controversial. (Am I revealing my age here?) It was a novel use of green notes in the top to overwhelm the citrus,
and the sweet floral notes and almondy, slightly powdery drydown seemed out of character with the rest of the scent. I guess we would now say that Grey Flannel's nose, André Fromentin, was a visionary. A leap of the olfactory imagination, for sure.

From the magnificent Estonian website parfyym.pri.ee:

Top Notes: Galbanum, Petitgrain, Neroli, Bergamot, Lemon
Middles Notes: Violet, Rose, Narcissus, Mimosa, Iris, Sage, Geranium
Base Notes: Cedarwood, Vetiver, Oakmoss, Tonka bean, Almond

This is technically a fougère, I guess, because of the oakmoss and tonka bean in the base (but without teh usual lavender), but it comes across as a wacky green floral, with the bitterness of petitgrain and galbanum playing against the sweeter middle and woody-oriental base notes. I rarely wear it, probably (to be honest) because even after all these years, it still shocks me a bit. But I've come to love the progression and the puzzling change to that soft drydown. Hooray for cognitive dissonance!

I've always wondered why it takes such a long time to fill a prescription. When you think about it, the process should take five, maybe ten minutes. However, drugstore chains are aware of the fact that - human nature being what it is - when one is confronted with a painfully long waiting period he will seek to alleviate the discomfort by engaging in that most Western of traditions: reckless impulse spending.

Grey Flannel is the apotheosis of an impulse consumer product. Considering the setting (here, a drugstore in rural South Carolina), its packaging is refined. The name itself reeks of sophistication and conjures memories - however faint - of childhood Christmases. And, it's one of the more luxuriously priced fragrance products currently sold at mainline druggists. Very classy stuff, indeed.

Such was my thought process one recent morning when, influenced by fuzzy memories and the glorious praise bestowed upon this product, I decided to gracefully pry open the grey flannel sack and spritz upon my unsullied skin one of the most obnoxious fragrances ever perpetrated on the people of Our World.

I can describe the intense initial blast thusly: cheap potpourri-inspired decorative bathroom soap left to dissolve and ferment in fruit juice. It smells like a shiftless, wild hobo drunk on Wild Irish Rose who sleeps nightly behind a DelMonte factory. His best friend is an incontinent bassett hound who likes to play in the sewer.

This is headache-inducing stuff. It is not pleasurable, and on my skin this stage was interminable. I've read about Grey Flannel's "payoff," the point at which it apparently eschews vulgarity and morphs into some kind of orgasmic mossy-woodsy nirvana. I'm sorry, but I felt that the price was too high to pay, and I washed it off (with moderate success - tenacious!), much to the delight of my companion that day.

Oh, no. People aren't meant to smell like this.

Geoffrey Beene Grey Flannel


Sometimes male wearers of perfume remind me of the Little Rascals and their “He-Man Woman Haters Club”. Except it should be more accurately phrased, for what I’m thinking, as the “He-Man Floral Haters Club”. Usually if you’re talking about floral scents most gentlemen tend to shy away from them unless we’re talking about rose or lavender. There have been a number of recent scents like Dior Homme and its iris core that have started to expand some men’s floral vocabulary. I think that the beginning of this might be traced all the way back to 1976 and Andre Fromentin’s creation of Geoffrey Beene Grey Flannel. The floral used here is violet and it is used in this scent in such a way as to give you a floral component that also has a green side to it that keeps it from being too floral. The note list for Grey Flannel is five notes simple; violet, lemon, orange, oakmaoss, sandalwood. This is one of those colognes in which every note listed is present and accounted for and to my nose I smell a few party crashers, as well. From the top, the violet is the first thing to hit my nose and the tight floral character of this which also holds a green leafy component is what makes this an ideal note to center a masculine cologne around. There is no mistaking this is a floral note but it is not flowery in character. The choice of pairing this up with tart lemon and sweeter orange makes the top of this very refreshing. As this transitions to the oakmoss heart I’d swear I get a hint of sage. That might come from the violet and the oakmoss together as perhaps the oakmoss brings out more of the green characteristics of the violet. The violet persists into the base and now the floral character is enhanced as the sweet woody sandalwood accentuates that aspect. I can see Grey Flannel being too strong for some as this is no shy flower on the skin it has a noticeable sillage and a persistent longevity. On the other hand if you like Grey Flannel it is a great office scent and it might lead you to give some other florals a try. Grey Flannel is one of those classics that has stood the test of time and at least for me caused me to change the sign on my perfume clubhouse to “He-Man Violet Lovers Club”

A recent obsession with violet, in combination with the sale rack at Ross, led me to a 4oz bottle of GF EdT.

I have to say, it is a beautiful interpretation of violet. The dry herbs in the front are so fleeting, and bear semblance to those in Weil's iconic Antilope-hot, dry, abrupt. Within moments, the violet charges in. It stays for a very, very, long time. Incredible depth and concentration. This surpasses even an EdP in strength. The sillage, as we all know, is outrageous. While the eventual polite mossy drydown is definitely Scottish Grandfather and a bit dreary, I don't care, because at $10/bottle, I'll just apply more liberally!

The fact that this was created in 1976 has absolutely no impact on its freshness in character. My new bottle has excellent ingredients, and smells just as I remember from back in the day. However, the simplicity of ingredients is very contemporary and "niche" in nature. If we took this juice, packed it in a smart minimalist bottle, and called it "Labdanum Violette", we could get $200 an ounce for it. People would note its nod to Grey Flannel, but say it was a "newer, fresher" take on Geoffrey Beene's old scent. Don't fool yourself, this is the real thing-then and now.

As a woman, this scent pulls the meek florals out very nicely, more in the style of JPG's Le Male than Dior's Farenheit, two other frags to which this scent has been compared here by others. Both those scents are in my closet, as well, to be sure.