Ungaro II (1992)
by Ungaro

The Baron de Charlus once told me: "My undisputed favourite from the House of Ungaro, Ungaro II never fails to conjure a painting by Watteau: an aristocratic whirl of dancers in a lush and leafy glade, more than a little decadent and effete. Having obviously learned some of its dance steps from Jicky and Mouchoir de Monsieur, the secret with Ungaro II, if one is not to be overwhelmed by civet, is to apply it very lightly, very slightly. Then it can be a thing of glory: sweet lavender and lemon melting into a warm and golden glow. But apply too much and it becomes oversweet and sickly. Less medieval and strange than Ungaro I, Ungaro II is also far superior to the rather ordinary fruits of Ungaro III."

5th July, 2011.

If you're going to smell this composition for the first time you have to be aware that to properly appreciate it, it's an essential condition that you like animalic notes, and expecially civet. In fact, Ungaro II opens with boatloads of civet, lavander and citrus. The overall effect is at the same time seriously challenging and of rare charm. The juxtaposition of animalic notes and citruses freshness is quite unique and gives to this composition a special character that is pretty hard to find in today's perfumes. Fresh and mysterious. During the drydown lavender and civet are joined by a considerable dose of sweet vanilla turning Ungaro II to a sort of dirty animalic version of Caron Pour Un Homme. Amazing and destabilizing yet very sensual.

10th May, 2011.

My first impression of Ungaro II was 'lemon rose.' I knew there must be more to it, so I sampled again the next day with a fresh start, as I had been trying several other fragrances at the time. Now, what I get is what I think Eau de Rochas would have been if its brief had been asking for an oriental. The opening is lemony and bright, and yes, the rose is apparent from the start. But notably present is a wonderfully strong civet note that anchors the otherwise lighthearted opening and lends a slightly dirty feel that makes the whole seem more real and sensual. It's got a little lavender/vanilla soapiness to it like an old cologne, but just a little, and the effect comes across like a more earthy version of Caron's Third Man, only much quieter. While not as impressive as I'd initially hoped, Ungaro II is a very good two-for-one oriental/citrus fougere hybrid and is one of the fragrances from the early 90's I see as the twilight (or perhaps dawn) where animalic powerhouses passed the baton to citric fresh scents, balancing neatly on the cusp of two prevailing and radically different styles.

19th January, 2011.

tvlampboy is correct with the fecal civet assessment - I find that if too much of Ungaro II is applied, people might think you're wearing a soiled diaper. If you have ever smelled Eau d'Hermes, the opening is very similar, only with a tamer civet and brighter, clearer citrus.

The bright citrus opening fades quickly, unfortunately. From the first few minutes, I can observe that Ungaro II is probably the lively "people person" of the three Ungaro brothers. The bright citrus opening is executed SO perfectly - one of the absolute best citrus openings I have ever smelled in a masculine fragrance. Like a good eau de cologne, though, I only wish that citrus could stick around some more. As Off-Scenter explained, this has quite a bit of musk and florals in it. The drydown gives way to the base layer of civet, florals, and spices, making this a powdery masculine oriental. This stage, to me, recalls Tiffany for Men. While nice, I wish more could have been done with the drydown or the opening as I'm not very much a fan of powdery floral/orientals. If you're interested in Ungaro II, get a sample or decant first, because this is one fragrance to try before you buy. Longevity and sillage are great, but be wary of how much you apply.

This was the first vintage Ungaro that I tried. I find it has the most character of the three Ungaro's, and certainly has the most promising opening, although it's just not my type of fragrance.

30th November, 2010. (Last Edited: 7th January, 2011.)

The first few seconds with UNGARO II somehow made me recall the groovy '70s; it has that same musty air, almost vintage vibe about it even though it was a child of the '90s. The citrus is not particularly tart and fails to mask the soapy tinge of lavender but I don't find this aspect objectionable at all.

As I delve further into the oriental heart of the scent, I get mostly a musky yet refined blend of rose-lavender-spices against a vanilla backdrop. Either the civet content is minimal or it is well-complimented. Certainly nothing fecal here folks, and I'm someone who is a little sensitive to civet. But the dirty-sexy element is there alright.

Towards the end the vanilla gains more prominence, the florals fading but as far as scent progression goes, the transition is seamless. Sillage is average and a light application lasts about 4-5 hours on my skin.

IMO the most interesting about Ungaro II is that it smells clean yet dirty at the same time. And any scent that manages such a tricky feat is one classy act in my books. I know I might regret not picking up a bottle as I don't find it quite FBW, but I have to admit it is worth a small decant at the very least.

28th January, 2010.

Ungaro II opens with an arresting citrus/civet accord, underpinned by a very smooth, rounded lavender note. As the heart develops, sweet jasmine and orange blossom notes emerge, melding so seamlessly with the citrus that it's difficult to tell where one ends and the other begins. During the second hour a powdery musk note joins in. The fully-developed musk/civet partnership lends remarkable depth and seductive animal mystery to what might otherwise have been a rather ordinary citrus and lavender men's scent.

The transition into drydown is fairly rapid, yet somehow so subtle as to be almost imperceptible. As I think about it, "transition" is not as accurate a term as "transformation." Without ever announcing itself, the drydown shifts Ungaro II from an unusually rich citrus scent to a sensual, but surprisingly light spicy oriental. The musk and civet stand their ground, forming a vital link in the development, while patchouli, something suggestive of cardamom, and a perfectly judged dose of vanilla move into the foreground. The ineffable transparency of this oriental drydown may owe in part to a light hand with the woods and amber both of which are so fully integrated that they act as a harmonic background, rather than as individual notes.

I think this fragrance is remarkable in its adept use of two of perfumery's trickiest notes: civet and vanilla. I can't imagine a better-integrated civet note than the one that grounds Ungaro II. Whether it's the proportions, the nature of the accompanying accords or (most likely) both, the result is absolutely wonderful. As for the vanilla, it's so subtle and well-blended that it effortlessly sidesteps the artificial, icky-sweet quagmire that has so cheapened this note over the years.

It's tempting to compare Ungaro II with Jicky, as they share civet, lavender, and vanilla as prominent components. But where Jicky is an extraordinarily busy, evanescent fragrance, which changes character from season to season, wearing to wearing, and even moment to moment, Ungaro II is far steadier. (Though not at all linear!) Ungaro II progresses through its life cycle with deliberate, dignified poise, without ever betraying its underlying animalism. As the bottle cap color might suggest, this scent is a feline predator: all tightly strung muscle, unseen, deathly still, and quiet, waiting...

6th January, 2010.