Fragrance Reviews

Boasting a sweet and powdery blend of flowers and a musky drydown, this scent would be right at home on top of an antique vanity, nestled amongst the missus' various lotions and potions. Charming in a vaguely clumsy fashion, yet radiantly pretty in a way that seems to be getting harder and harder to come by nowadays.

Very well done Fougere. I have the EDT and find it suitable for basically all weather and situations. L'Instant has a classic smell to it, opening with citric florals and star anise.

Immediately following these are patchouli, sandalwood, tea and cacao. Well blended, perfect strength and longevity with moderate sillage. This is a good-to-go frag that reeks quality ingredients, yet isn't screaming for attention.

Well done Guerlain.

To me, this a lot like ck One but with a more green, fruity bottom accord. It's fresh and clear, however, doesn't seem to last long on my skin. Good for a daily use cologne.

In Stalking the Perfect Peony I find this a winner. On me the peony has a comfortable "bottom" that's rounded and almost powdery, full bodied without the usual rose. I get a bit of a spark but I wouldn't call it peppery and the woodiness is warm too.

The marvels of body chemistry!

I can see why some people are underwhelmed, but I think this is very nice. It's taken me all these years to try Cashmere Mist - I have no idea why, just wasn't that interested and never got around to it. The bottle does not attract me. Now, after having sprayed a bit from a tester for the first time, I can't stop sniffing the back of my hand. It really does give you a fuzzy soft cashmere impression. And it smells like soap a bit, but it dries down a tad more interesting than that. It's certainly long lasting, and I like its airness and powderiness. Smells familiar, too, so there's a cozy nostalgia element involved.

EDP review:

Oh, how I've come a long way from owning a bottle of this...

For someone who's relatively new to fragrances, Pi may greatly appeal. However, the truth is that it's not really a vanilla scent in the slightest – it’s more a synthetic mess, containing a very large quantity of benzoin. It smells horribly waxy, with coconut and caramel accords struggling to cover-up the fact that the whole composition smells absolutely dreadful. Ultimately, Pi is a fake vanilla scent for the uninitiated, with reasonable sillage and longevity.

‘But, if Pi is really awful, what else is there available that I can investigate?’ I hear you ask. Well, the problem is, if you really want a decent vanilla fragrance you’ll have to pay a bit more extra for it. How much extra is entirely up to you. The following are vanilla dominant fragrances I feel everyone should test at least once – there are many other great alternatives available but these are the ones that immediately spring to mind:

Guerlain – Heritage EDP (vintage formulation)
Guerlain – Spiritueuse Double Vanille
Montale – Vanille Absolu
Montale – Boise Vanille
Profumum Roma – Vanitas
Serge Lutens – Un Bois Vanille

I can guarantee you that, once you’ve smelt these, your perception of Pi will never be the same again – the time to remove your blindfold has finally come.

Now, go forth and sniff…

An amazingly dull, inferior, overpriced and thus entirely superfluous citrus fragrance. While a fan of Sandalo e Thé, I've found the other BOIS 1920 scents to be well made but rather too conventional affairs, but this is simply bad. A grapefruit-centered top, that lacks the refreshing punch you expect from a fragrance called bitter citrus of Sicily. Neither petitgrain nor cumin help to give the lame pamplemousse a hard citric-orangy edge or some suggestive dirtyness. Instead, an irritating synthetic haze hovers above the fragrance, not too dissimilar from the little helpers that ruin the current incarnation of Farina Gegenüber. It would be nice to get some good jasmine and patchouli notes in the middle, but there is nothing of the sort in here, just the inchoate fruitiness of a thankfully brief drydown to cheap wood and musk notes that would make even Ulric de Varens cringe. It's embarassing to smell this besides Acqua di Parma or Eau de Patou or any quality Eau de Cologne. In fact, Monsieur Balmain, 100ml of which can be had for around 15 Euros online, is a vastly superior citrus fragrance. This BOIS 1920 rip-off ranges in quality with the recent abominations put out by 4711 as their new "Acqua Colonia" line. I didn't think one could be more audacious than to charge 35 Euros for 150ml of toilet-air-freshener-quality lavender, verveine and what have you scents, but Enzo Galardi takes the cake and truly, in the face of this achievement, he can stick his hand-turned precious-wood bottle cap where the Sicilian sun don't shine.

With the slightly kinky name and ELO's fearsome reputation, I was pleasantly surprised by this demure little thing. Starts off with bright, sparkly aldehydes and dries down to a nice little butter cookie scent. Peach? Maybe...smells more like a very, very light citrus to me. (Actually, I think this lemony-cookie smell is what I was hoping for from D&G Llight Blue, which sadly ended up smelling like Lemonheads and rubbing alcohol.) Keeps getting creamier and fluffier all the way into the dry-down, kicking in with an almond note at the end. I'm not usually a fan of creamy and fluffy, but this is adorable. Not sure I'd buy a full bottle, but I'd consider a decant. Wish it projected a little more.

A very elegant citrus, focused on lemon and aromatic notes. It reminds me of Eau Sauvage which I believe emerged in same time frame.

I am originally from Rochester, New York and I remember the Lilac Festival every year at Highland Park. Somehow I was oblvious of this fragrance until now (23 years after leaving Rochester). Highland Lilac is an exceptionally realistic lilac soliflore, very potent (so apply sparingly!) and quite long lasting. Excellent scent option for a lady seeking a lilac fragrance.

After trying the excellent Santal de Mysore, I was expecting great things from this one. However, the sandalwood note isn’t at all prominent in Santal Blanc. Instead, this is more of a floral scent with sandalwood deep in the background. The overall composition is okay but there is a strange chemical note in there that annoys me.

It's definitely one of the least interesting releases by Serge Lutens and its longevity is above average.

[Original submission date: 30 October 2006]

Very Irrésistible for Men is a coffee, citrus and mint concoction that smells absolutely terrible.

What the hell was Givenchy thinking?!

[Original submission date: 30 October 2006]

A pleasant vanilla and almond scent that comes across as more feminine than unisex. Its longevity is also quite poor.

[Original submission date: 14 October 2006]

One of the few Creeds that really stands out, as well as being the blueprint for Kouros...

Although I wouldn't consider it bottle worthy, Orange Spice is a classy, dense and spicy citrus that's great for the warmer months. Its longevity is pretty good and is much better than I originally expected.

[Original submission date: 14 October 2006]

Bigarade Concentrée is sweet but lacks the clarity, zest and freshness one would expect from this type of fragrance. Also, its longevity is abysmal.

There are much better niche alternatives available on the market.

[Original submission date: 14 October 2006]

The petroleum oil note in Fahrenheit makes it intolerable for me to wear. It’s a shame because it's, apparently, a compliment getter.

[Original submission date: 30 October 2006]

Every Joe Bloggs was wearing Jazz in the late ‘80s but I always thought it smelt like discarded fish and chip wrapping paper (with oil, salt and vinegar notes fighting amongst each other to get noticed). Although it smelt strangely intriguing, during my childhood years, it would probably irritate the hell out of me now.

[Original submission date: 30 October 2006]

Tendre Poison is a decent fresh green scent but its longevity is disappointingly poor – something you wouldn’t expect from the Poison line.

I seriously think an Elixir version is in order...

[Original submission date: 30 October 2006]

I’m not really a big fan of musk scents and By Man is no exception. Its longevity is okay but it tends to stay quite close to the skin. Also, the bottle is absolutely tacky – even if I loved this scent, there’s no way I would add a bottle like that to my fragrance collection.

[Original submission date: 30 October 2006]

Roma Uomo is nothing but a watered down, synthetic, citrus-oriental (even the bottle looks excruciatingly cheap). Also, its longevity is abysmal.

[Original submission date: 30 October 2006]

212 Men is a reasonable fresh scent but unbelievably synthetic and generic. I like my fragrances to be more distinctive and of a higher quality, thank you very much.

[Original submission date: 31 October 2006]

If you love iris scents, this is definitely worth a try. Alas, iris dominant scents are not really for me and this one failed to make me do a complete u-turn.

Orris is a decent fragrance but its sillage and longevity could have been a lot better.

[Original submission date: 21 December 2006]

I'm sorry but wearing Spezie makes me feel like I've been generously seasoned by a group of hungry cannibals.

As much as I like to smell irresistible, this is taking things a little too far...

[Original submission date: 23 December 2006]

Oh dear! Vetiver is just too raw and harsh for me.

If you're still unsure as to whether or not you like vetiver fragrances, please DO NOT consider testing this one first – it may put you off vetiver for life...

[Original submission date: 23 December 2006]

Not a promising start: Shaal Nur lands on the skin clothed in alcohol fumes and a harsh citrus accord. Luckily, this opening lasts only a minute or so before it’s engulfed in a cloud of incense smoke, resins, and sweet spices that firmly aligns Shaal Nur with dark oriental scents like L’Air du Desert Marocain, Fumerie Turque, and Jubilation XXV. Prominent vanilla and opopanax bring to mind Shalimar as well, but Shaal Nur is at once dryer and less animalic than Guerlain’s archetypical classic. Lack of civet and conspicuous doses of cedar and frankincense may account for the differences.

Shaal Nur projects well but never to the point of being distracting or oppressive. It grows more powdery as it develops, and eventually settles into a very soft-textured vanilla, opopanax, and cedar drydown. The composition and development are very conventional examples of the spicy oriental genre, but where Shaal Nur excels is in its delicately tuned balance and well-judged proportions. Nothing is out of place, nothing grates, and nothing is garish. (The latter a great danger in this sort of scent – think Opium.) My only criticism is that in a family of scents known for persistence, Shaal Nur is surprisingly fleet in fading. Perhaps a limited lifespan is the cost of avoiding gaudy excess in so rich an oriental.

Czech & Speake’s Dark Rose opens up all oudh and roses, rather like Montale’s Black Aoud diluted down to half the concentration. The oudh-rose accord tends toward the stark and monumental, and like many scents base on this combination Dark Rose remains in olfactory stasis for quite some time. The basic character is, well, dark rose, balanced by the slightly caustic, medicinal character of oudh and a generous helping of saffron. If you like the Montale oudh scents in principle, but find them overwhelming, Dark Rose will no doubt appeal.

The rose in Dark Rose sweetens over the course of hours, taking on a “jammy” or liqueur-like character, while the oudh mellows and eventually makes way for some dry sandalwood and vetiver. The Directory entry lists Dark Rose as “feminine,” but with all that wood and the bitter edge on the rose, I’d consider it comfortably gender neutral. It’s certainly no more “girly” than other recent roses for men, such as Amouage Lyric. I must admit though that I’m slightly puzzled by Dark Rose’s presence in the Czech & Speake lineup. The firm already offers No. 88, which while admittedly even darker and more complex, is awfully similar in style and composition.

I had the misfortune to sample Dark Rose just days after encountering Amouage’s brilliant Homage, where oudh and rose travel on an entirely different, and I must say, higher plane. Seen in light of Homage, the more daring Montale oudh scents, and Czech & Speake’s own No. 88, Dark Rose seems tame – even a bit bland – and possibly superfluous.

(This review refers to the 2009 reissue.)

Ubar is an animalic floral scent with incense, built on the same titanic scale and in the same ornate style as Amouage’s original Gold and Gold Men. In fact, it explores territory so similar to its older siblings that I at first wondered if it was really necessary. Ubar resembles Gold (either one) most in its opening, with indolic floral notes, frankincense, and civet all present and accounted for. A few minutes on, and Ubar begins along its own path however, with cooler, fresher jasmine and bergamot notes, a sandalwood so creamy it evokes coconut (you can find something like this in Frederic Malle’s Carnal Flower, too), and a deliciously smoky vanilla. It has less of Gold’s honey and spices, and the frankincense note remains farther in the background, ceding the stage more completely to the white flowers.

What I think distinguishes Ubar most though, is a powerful green muguet accord. This crisp, cheerful spring flower lends Ubar a certain buoyancy and brightness not found in Gold, Lyric, or indeed any other of the Amouage floral scents. While it may be named for a lost Arabian city, Ubar is, along with Ciel and the two Reflection scents, among the least desert-bound of the house’s offerings.

I have no problem detecting Ubar at a distance, and it seems to linger forever on the skin. I suppose it may be less potent than Gold, but given Gold’s atomic power, I find Ubar’s projection more than adequate. Considering Amouage’s big floral scents, I’d probably go with either Gold or Ubar, not both, especially given the cost. While the two are distinct scents, they could easily occupy a similar position in the wardrobe. And really, how often do you have occasion to wear something this big and opulent?

Another grand revival from Givenchy! Le De shares a superb green herbaceous accord with Givenchy III, but where Givenchy III is moist and loamy, Le De is elegantly floral. Jasmine and ylang-ylang are the star players at Le De’s floral heart. These notes can become garish or bombastic in the wrong hands, but here both are presented in such balance and moderation as to spare all concern. Le De is simply one of those scents where everything seems to fall perfectly in place. The floral notes are just indolic enough to tantalize, the incense is just dry enough to ground them, and the woody basenotes are just dense enough to lend the whole thing substance without weighing it down.

As a cool, indolic floral fragrance Le De has points in common with Dominique Ropion’s Une Fleur de Cassie for Frederic Malle, but where the Malle goes gloriously over the top with the fetid indoles, Le De maintains delicately classical proportions. If Une Fleur de Cassie is the breath of a seductively beautiful animal, Le De is the breeze off of a sunlit garden terrace. Like so much else about Le De, the power and sillage seem perfectly judged to please without intruding, and while at four to six hours endurance it’s not the longest-lasting fragrance of its type, its longevity is more than adequate. Lovely, really, just lovely.

Wishing that Mukhallat evoked the feelings & lovely memories expressed by jenson, I must (sadly) give this potent mixture a thumbs down... for my own associations, the strawberry/almond topnotes smell like a public restroom freshener commonly used in the midwest. Artificial smelling. I sprayed one very small squirt onto a tissue and left it on my kitchen countertop for about 6 hours. When I returned to re-sniff it, the sickly sweet berry smell had died down quite a bit and a more vanillic sweet almond was the dominant note. At this later stage Mukhallat seems tolerable, yet not what I want to wear. In the end, my thumb is neutral, as I seriously believe my cultural associations imparted a tainted viewpoint. If not for that, I would say others may enjoy this Montale...but not me, nope, not this one.

I just accepted a bottle of Eau Sauvage as a gift from a a house guest. Before now I had only tested it on paper at fragrance counters. What a big mistake that had been. It's was hot here in DC today and as I applied ot to my skin for the first time. The initial citrus-y blast eventually moved aside to reveal the surprise of a wonderful skanky note that never came out on paper..I'm surprised that none of the previous reviews have mentioned it...maybe it's my chemistry, but I'm happy about that since I can appreciate a hearty note of skank in my scents. I later I reapplied it and layerd it with Jicky EDT...sheer heaven. But just as wonderful alone. i'm glad I finally have this in my collection. More women need to try this as it's definitely unisex. A big thumbs UP!

If you’ve ever tasted Applejack or Calvados, you’ll know Nicole Miller’s topnotes: booze and spiced apples. The apples and alcohol are unfortunately a tad chemical in character, so the impression they leave is a bit more “scented candle” than “personal fragrance.” Of course apple on a spicy-woody fougère base is hardly original, having been essayed by roughly 49% of all masculine fragrances since Green Irish Tweed and Cool Water. (Another 49% are aquatics, leaving the remaining 2% for everything else.)

Some say this is a leather scent, and Michael Edwards classifies it as a woody-oriental, but I think Nicole Miller traces the by now conventional fruity fougère path quite faithfully, though distinguishing itself to a small degree by way of an odd, gamy, animalic note deep in its foundation. This bit of mammalian funk is a reminder of bolder animalic fougères like Lauder for Men, Kouros, and Jules, but Nicole Miller doesn’t quite have the guts to go all the way, and winds up seeming almost apologetic. Neither the godsend some claim, nor Satan’s spawn, but a pleasant fruity thing for men that’s probably outclassed by scents like New York, L’Anarchiste, or the now ironically no-more-expensive(!) Amouage Ciel.

Does anyone else feel like they're layering a weak No. 5 with Bel Respiro when wearing Eau Premiere? I think I prefer to have my Chanels served unscrambled, but I understand what others appreciate. I can comprehend what Lilybelle's saying about the easy-breezy category that No5EP shares with Cristalle, but I think Cristalle's character is more distinctive and desirable.

A very realistic rose scent that I am happy to recommend!

Begins with a delicious aroma of green mandarin and violet. This scent is immediately fruity and modern in its construction of the violet and mandarin top. The heart and top notes come on all at once, in my opinion, but these notes hang around for quite a while before drying down to a masculine combination of sandalwood, bourbon, amber, and musk. I definitely get the amber and sandalwood notes in the base, which are impressively accented by the bourbon. My overall impression is that PS London is a modern, semi-sweet oriental that will provide its wearer with a satisfactory aroma in which to entice passers-by who happen to come within its unsubstantial sillage. Unfortunately, I believe its longevity could have been a little better (lasted only 5-6 hrs on me). I recommend PS London for evening wear, as it won't last all day but the scent of bourbon would suit an evening meal quite romantically.

**This review is of the EDP***

Top: Orange, Bergamot
Middle: Rose, Jasmine
Base: Patchouli, Vetiver

Coco Mademoiselle (CM) is the flagship Chanel offering for young 'youthful' women, and is arguably Jacque Polge's most finely tuned contemporary composition for the mainstream market. Ignore the anemic, bony Keira Knightly as the face of CM; CM is a lush chypre-floral. It opens with the top and middle note phases revealing themselves as a unified block; a juicy orange note immediately linking with an expansive floral heart...rose and jasmine swirling with juicy oranges resulting in a dense fruity floral with gourmand highlights. Although indicated in the pyramid of the EDT, I also detect a minute lychee note in the EDP. The rose note seems embellished with lychee, the accord smelling like many Mistral soaps I have tried (albeit of a better quality) and could also be responsible for the gourmand-ness inherent within. Several hours later CM dries down to a light base of vetiver and patchouli...I would have liked a dose of tree-moss to provide a snappier feel to the base, but it does its job of anchoring the floral mid-half well.

A standard but accomplished fruity floral accord, good materials, and compliments galore....refined, approachable, trendy, instead of unique, ground breaking, avant-garde...quite a bit like Keira Knightly really.

Rating: 8.0/10.0

Fleurs de Nuit launches on an accord of crisp, green, and slightly fruity jasmine, neroli, and orange blossom. The white flowers are indolic, but not overly so, and the crisp aldehydes employed at the start are enough to generate a mild tingle, but not so much as to smell “perfumey.” Vanilla appears after just a few minutes and steadily intensifies, yet never overwhelms or over-sweetens the composition.

Fleurs de Nuit possesses a peculiar economy and precision of construction, so that what could have been a heavy, heady, and overbearing floral scent is not. I attribute this appealing sense of clarity to the piercing green neroli that persists into the heart of the fragrance. The scent projects well, persists more than adequately, and leaves a well-judged remnant of sillage behind itself. What puzzles me about this stuff is the name. Is it just ineptly christened, or is “Fleurs de Nuit” meant to be ironic? This is certainly nothing if not a bright, sunny meadow of a floral scent. No stars or moonlight here – just wildflowers and soft summer breezes. Still very nice, even if misleadingly labeled.

Greened out lavender followed by woody florals and a dash of civet.

Compare a few spritzes of Monsieur Carven to ANY well made and liked modern designer and you will be shaking your head at the dismal affairs present day masculines are in.

Not too strong, but very classy and refined scent. foetidus nailed it again and the reader would do well in sampling or flat out buying this juice. They don't make stuff like this anymore and they never never will due to regulations and cost effectiveness.

Minty-herbal, woodsy and natural. Very fleeting impression of smoked wood. I like this one. It’s like lying in the grass by a lake in summer. I find it calming and uplifting simultaneously. I love helichrysium, apparently. Big ole thumbs up. :)

Similar to Samurai in that it’s woodsy and has a sweetness. I get cedar, but every time I think I’m smelling cedar it’s vetiver. The sweet base, which is in a lot of these fragrances, is lovely. The leather is subtle, not overly strong.

Has that charred wood smell, as in Lake Flower, but stronger here. Also something rubbery (tuberose?). A bit of bitterness. Most of the profumo scents are sweet, but this one is astringent and rather strange smelling. I don’t mind it, but it isn’t what I’d reach for. It’s certainly interesting.

Civet, Tuberose, Mandarin
This is a lovely and pure, if short lived, fragrance experience. The tuberose is gorgeous – starts off rubbery, then I get some menthol. It almost smells edible. And there is something old fashioned about it (in a good way) that makes me think of a floral that my mother or grandmother would have worn, back in the day when it was a given that a fine fragrance was a quality fragrance. The civet doesn't smell hugely fecal to me in this. The mandarin gives it a juiciness. I actually like this better than Fracas.

It smells sweetish smoky-leathery, a bit barn animally, and slightly rubbery. It makes me think of a farm in autumn where piles of leaves are being burned. It’s a bit strong for me (especially in the morning before breakfast!) but I enjoy the autumnal wood fire associations. I wonder if a beaver den smells like this, if you could swim underwater and poke your head up inside one. I think Mr. and Mrs. Beaver’s home in C.S. Lewis’ The Lion, The Witch and the Wardobe smelled like this. Fun to experience this on its own.

Vetiver, Frankincense, Neroli
Wonderful! The combination of these ingredients is so wearable and refreshing. Frankincense in this combination is approachable and less formal/churchy, while adding mystery to the vetiver and neroli. I find this scent grounding and it seems to orient me internally (meditative). Vetiver gives a bit of looking backward, nostalgia; neroli is refreshing and stimulating; and frankincense adds depth and mystery. This is just my subjective reaction, of course. I get an impression of pine or fir branches, the green neroli, woodsy vetiver, and spicy frankincense combine to give this impression. Can't tell you how much I enjoyed this one.

Ambergris tincture is a little odd and strikes me as slightly fecal, but it’s pleasant, even addictive. I kept pressing my nose to my wrist to get the sweetness that’s buried inside, because it’s really not that strong of an odor. It has a fluid silkiness. Again, I may be (am) rather suggestible but I also got a salty briny sea vibe from it. Funny thing, but my dog, who HATES perfumes, intelligent creature that she is, kept sniffing me all over when I wore this. Big thumbs up from her because I *might* have smelled like some interesting thing washed up on the beach. And thumbs up from me just for the experience of trying this on its own. I really enjoyed it.

Big thumbs up! Gringo is one of my favorites of the ones I've tried in this line. Smells herbal/minty, somewhat citrussy, and woodsy, and lasts a fairly long time on me. I love it. I definitely get an island pirate bay-rum buccaneer vibe. There is a sweet impression of spices (clove? Cinnamon? Nutmeg?), a bit of citrus peel, and the camphoraceous quality of patchouli. I know I am easily suggestible, but these are the scents of the trading days on the high seas. I get a sense of free spiritedness when I wear it. I do seem to get the moods and soul in these fragrances that their creator suggests.

You may think of sandalwood as a serene, contemplative, even spiritual fragrance, but that's not the way Serena plays it in this perfume. Here it's animalic, lusty and luxurious. A powerful oriental, with all that implies (apply lightly at first, reserve for evening wear etc etc) this is a testament to the extraordinary talent of this young woman. Frankly, it's filthy; but in the most classical and refined way. Wear to the opera, not to church.

You usually get what you pay for and this is the case with Caesars Man.Nothing outstanding and a bit sharp on the first spray.On my skin it has a soapy dry down with some green notes.I hate to say this but a friend said it reminded them of fly killer! Needless to say I wont be wearing it for social occasions but will probably keep it in the car to freshen up with.I dont find it offensive and there is definateky no signs of any florals or sweetness in its make-up

First, may I say, the previous writers have executed their reviews beautifully. I will add that Cadjmere reminds me of a few other fragrances that radiate a sweet, smooth (see lizzie_j's aged liquor reference), mellow, I'd dare say dull aura: Rochas Tocade, Chopard Casmir, and the drydown of Boucheron Trouble or Liz Claiborne Spark. I can't decide my favorite from this camp. The vanilla dullness is at once very attractive/soothing and then wearying/boring. However, a cost comparison removes C18 from the running for me.

Be sure to check out the many positive reviews at Lucky Scent.

So, thumb neutral or thumb up? I think the interesting resins earn this fragrance a ...

Rich fruity topnotes of tangerine and yuzu quickly give way to a softly blended floral bouquet. The floral notes are muted, like a photograph taken with a soft-focus lense, fuzzy and gentle around the edges. A little bit powdery. Other D&G frags I've tried have a distinguishable musk in their base, and it is present here too. Completely pretty! Extremely wearable.

Libertine begins with a fresh and frosty lily floral, reminiscent of Estee Lauder's Pleasures or even Ralph Lauren's Pure Turquoise. As it warms on the skin, an amber accord appears, sort of fleshy, like Chantilly. Libertine sweetens and sparkles, remaining feminine and interesting throughout it's duration. For my own taste, it gets a little bit cloying, but don't let my quirky nose put you off this one, it's definitely worth trying!

A gourmand scent that I mostly like (and that's saying a lot). Almonds, cherries, vanilla. Starts off spicy and liquor-y, indeed like cherry cough syrup. This is not a bad thing to me-- I like this cherry cough syrup. A bit powdery, but not too much. The boozy spiciness fades in the drydown, leaving cherries and powder that is more comforting than cloying. I'd wear this at Christmas time.

This is a spicy, powdery, oakmossy treat. It is so harsh and abrasive at first that one wonders if you need to wash it off. During the day, it's oakmoss extraordinaire and two sprays really feels like too much. As it dries down, it softens up. After a long day, you get spices for the drydown. A very subtle spicy version of B*Men's drydown minus patchouli. It's one that needs to grow on you.

Heeley’s iris scent is a lovely one, as close in its dark rooty ambience as any I’ve smelled to Maurice Roucel’s iconic Iris Silver Mist for Serge Lutens. Iris de Nuit shares with Iris Silver Mist both a hint of anise and a certain doughy, almost foody character lacking in most other iris scents I know. It is, however, at once milder and more natural smelling than the Lutens, and so I find it easier to wear.

On the downside, sillage and projection are both moderate at best, and I have to apply a lot of Iris de Nuit before I start noticing it. Whether olfactory fatigue contributes here or not I cannot tell. The rooty, yet oddly translucent iris accord persists in a linear fashion, fading, rather than altering, into its soft, musky-woody drydown. Iris de Nuit is neither very powdery nor very floral, and I believe it could be worn with ease by either men or women. Though not among the strongest, I do think it one of the finest iris-centered scents available.

Instant adoration. Out of my prize range. I fear this is aimed at a target market that doesn't include me, but its charms may be lost on some people who may mostly be seduced by the very exclusivity that the price point creates (that, or the showy bottle).

Alas, this is a heartbreakingly beautiful floral with sweet fruity, citrus and chypre tones. Feels grown up, perfume-y (in a good way); little skanky. It seems to last well, even in hot weather.

Kabloom! First launches right in to a huge aldehydic white flower accord the second you spray it on, then proceeds to fill the room with an unseen cloud of jasmine, green muguet, hyacinth, and rose. It’s the same kind of gargantuan bouquet you get with Joy or even Amouage Gold, though it is crisper in texture and greener in hue than either. That this grand, old-fashioned, and unapologetically “perfumey” scent was composed by Jean-Claude Éllena confirms that he’s composing all those bony, gutless scents for Hermès not because he can’t do otherwise, but because he wants to, or because the Hermès art directors demand it of him. At any rate, First makes it clear that Éllena is no less capable of building bold, lush, and substantial accords than is Bertrand Duchaufour (who does so more often) or even Dominique Ropion, whose style First closely approaches. First could easily have been part of the Estée Lauder line, right next to Beautiful, Pleasures, and Private Collection.

First grows subtly sweeter as it develops, with soft vanilla and a generous sweet amber accord deep in its foundation. Potency and sillage remain impressive for hours before First drifts off into its warm ambery drydown. A grand scent if you like this sort of thing.

My mother's signature scent wasn't so much any one particular perfume (she worked her way through several) - but more of a theme "perfume and cigarettes". She smoked 40 a day. Probably why she got cancer in the end. To me, Jasmin & Cigarette is instantly evocative of "perfume and ashtray". It is a chilling reminder of the not-so-good memories. Another powerful example of the subjectivity of our perfume experiences.

Sanguine just isn't special enough, as compared with other similar fragrances I've enjoyed. You're better off with New Orleans Bourbon French Parfum's Eleftorea, which maintains a soft/fresh citrus/floral mood throughout its reasonably long life. My clear preference in this scent category is Malle's Bigarade Concentree with its 100-watt top notes.

I don't care for white musks because they all, with few exceptions, go weird on my skin, no matter their price or prestige. This one, however, really is fresh, sweet, airy and cool - very friendly on a hot, summer day (wait a minute for the alcohol to blow off). I just spritzed it over this morning's Shalimar edc, which is a nice combination. Surprisingly enjoyable fragrance inside the ugly plastic spray bottle, but what can you expect for the price. I bought mine in the drugstore dollar bin. I like it.

Aziyade starts out very reminiscent to the smell of Coca-Cola, with a hint of boozy fruit, and is anchored by sandalwood-musk base notes. It’s not as opulently rich as Serge Lutens’ Arabie (and it’s already been dubbed, by some, as ‘Arabie-lite’) nor, based on the comparison, ground-breaking. At the beginning, it did smell quite similar to this Lutens creation but, eventually, it ended up smelling very similar to Andy Tauer’s Incense Rose (too similar, in fact).

Personally, I’d much rather stick with my bottle of Arabie. Now, that’s the real thing…

I have to agree with Trebor and Foetidus on this one...Montale's Sweet Oriental Dream is much more richer and well rounded than this comparatively "thin" example of a Turkish Delight scent. Serge Luten's Rahat Loukhoum is also a much better choice if you want to try a scent that's inspired byTurkish Delight.

Amazingly rich warm scent.I agree not for hot weather but I have just picked up a half bottle off e bay for a song.
Remember this over 20yrs ago when I couldnt afford a bottle and I used to go in the department stores and have a test.
Lasts an incredibly long time without being sickly like Bijan or Jacomo de Jacomo.
I get the cinnamon but there is a gingerish vanilla like drydown on my skin.
Cant wait to wear this in publc to see what the reaction is...

Well at least the pepper covers the violet. Actually 'The Beat' isn't that bad a fragrance if you are looking for a fresh, woody and peppery vibe -- I like peppers in fragrances (you will have to to). Burberry are one of the best mainstream designer fragrance houses imo and produce much more interesting fragrances than all the others at the moment -- I mean you get what you pay for is the maxim with them. 'The Beat' isn't their best and I won't be purchasing as it is a bit too 'young' for me, but I've smelt a whole lot worse.

The violet note in the top is quite weak and overwhelmed by the citrus, otherwise I would have hated this, but in fact it's pretty good and the whole fragrance is blended tastefully. Touch isn't an epiphany or anything and I don't think I'll purchase, but it's kinda nice to know an inoffensive, well made, nice smelling mainstream male frag is out there anyway.

Heatwave in Britain ---- aaarrgghh over 30 degrees for 3 days - we are all doomed!. Tested some mainstream summer orientated frags and I liked this the best and may purchase. The grapefruit note is really nice in Sunshine Edition and mixes with the spices gloriously -- the mossy woody drydown is so-so, but hey I suspect this isn't very expensive and that grapefruit really kicks. Can't really remember the others too well as they were so underwhelming, Eternity Summer?( has a sour note), CK Summer (fresh but a bit bland) , Kenzo Summer? (not bad, but fleeting) Hugo Boss(don't ask -- will not review any of the range on principal) -- I was just grazing really while girly shopping was being done. To recap -- a lovely refreshing, uncomplicated and inexpensive summer fragrance from Paul Smith.

Amazingly subtle neroli opening is a far cry from what this astonishing eau de parfum progresses to be, a sexy beast -- with the animalicness creeping in like fog, quite unexpectedly. It stalks the unsuspecting wearer, taking him much the way the ferocious jungle-cat takes her prey...

Amazingly rich and full bodied orange, smells very "expensive" thanks to the superbly balmy and resinous woods that backs the composition. The opening is decidedly citrussy with gingery undertones that seem to fan the orange into a live and breathing accord that smells very "crushed and pulpy", simply put -- it's just perfect. The sweet Myrrh appears midway into application, warming up the entire palette of notes and accords until it dries down to a woody musky and the tiniest bit powdery, and in my opinion a rather quixotic whisper of a drydown.

Le Mâle was the first designer fragrance that I sensed a profound olfactory connection with and had been wearing it, almost exclusively, for approximately nine years. It was only when I acquired my third 125ml bottle that I started thinking about obtaining a second scent, merely as a complimentary alternative.

Then I discovered Basenotes…

For the past year, I had not really worn Le Mâle (and I hadn't even touched that newly purchased bottle) – I just felt the need to take a break from it, while exploring other fragrances. Several bottle purchases later, however, it reached a point where, every time I mused over which fragrance to wear for the day, my bottle of Le Mâle was constantly ignored. After several weeks of this happening, this newly-formed habit compelled me to wonder why I was always overlooking it. However, for some unknown reason, I could never reach a firm conclusion – I simply assumed that I was too busy enjoying and exploring new (and unfamiliar) fragrances.

Then, a few days ago, I decided to finally spray some Le Mâle on my arm (more for the sake of nostalgia than anything else). It then became very clear why I never reached for it...

Maybe it’s an age thing, maybe my tastes have drastically changed, or maybe my nose has become more sophisticated (thus prompting the inevitable prospect of fragrance snobbery). Whatever the reason, it suddenly dawned on me how uncomfortable and self-conscious I would feel if I was to ever wear it out in public again.

Like everyone else, I want to feel proud of whatever I’m wearing and, sadly, Le Mâle has now fallen heavily from grace – I had long moved on, without even knowing it. In addition, the notes smell more synthetic now than when I last remembered. I still admire it for its longevity and sillage but now find it to be too brash, unsophisticated, clichéd and somewhat embarrassing to even consider applying to my skin.

Although that third bottle is now with a new owner, catching whiffs of Le Mâle (from time to time) will always conjure up many happy memories. Well, as long as I’m not the one wearing it…

R.I.P. Le Mâle.

[Original submission date: 26 February 2007]

Tauer’s earlier L’Air du Desert Marocain was a masterful exercise on the theme of incense, and it raised high expectations for any new Tauer scent with “Incense” in the title. Incense Rosé smells primarily like dry frankincense and just a touch of myrrh, wed to peculiar and off-putting sour note. It lacks L’Air’s smoky depth and spice-fueled sense of mystery, and speaks instead in the kind of shrill, irritating tone that just makes you want to ignore it. I suspect that this was meant as a “luminous” or “transparent” incense composition, but it winds up brittle and impoverished. Stick with the Moroccan desert.

The name had me expecting a floral chypre with a rose heart, but that’s not exactly what I’m smelling here. Instead, Une Rose Chyprée is a dark, sweet, and spicy floral-oriental with an especially deep, jammy rose note at its core. It reminds me very much of Nahéma, of Amouage’s two rose-based Lyric scents, and by dint of conspicuous cinnamon (and clove?) notes, of Frederic Malle’s Noir Epices as well. I’ll take the perfumer’s word for it that the basenotes include the chypre staples oakmoss and labdanum, but what I smell in there is mostly smoky vanillic amber.

Whether you consider Une Rose Chyprée a chypre or an oriental is of little account. What matters is the scent’s smoldering, crepuscular beauty. The attempt to describe its qualities sends me scurrying after new words for “dark.” Yet for all its profundity, there is a paradoxical clarity to Une Rose Chyprée’s structure. (A quality it again shares with Noir Epices.) In olfactory character it brings to mind the tolling of a deep, deep bell, or the entrancing velvety blue glow of the evening sky just before it goes completely black. I wouldn’t wear it during the day, and certainly not in hot weather, but I think I’d have to pay attention to any woman wearing this scent in my presence. Une Rose Chyprée joins L’Air du Desert Marocain among my favorites from the Tauer line.

I read the above reviews and it shows how skin and chemistry mean EVERYTHING. This is one . Opens with a burst of honey fruit notes , giving way to osmanthus and a brilliant iris nuance. very nice on my skin.

A somewhat harsh smoky amber with a bit of vanilla but it still smells nice and has alot of character. Be very very careful with the sprays, 2 on the neck peroid, any more and it will be offensive. One of the best Serge Lutens IMO.

Aw crap! It really is that good. Now I may just have to spend a gazillion bucks to get myself some.

The formula as advertized for Homage sounds simple: rose, oudh, frankincense, and citrus. Yet two of those ingredients, rose and oudh, are at their best so intricately nuanced and profound that they defy anatomical description. That Pierre Montale has built an entire line of (mostly) distinct scents around these same two notes hints at the vast scope the rose-oudh pairing offers. Homage does indeed present rose and oudh at their complex and inscrutable best, and the addition of Amouage’s justly touted frankincense secrets them off into a realm of olfactory fantasy inhabited exclusively by djinns and ifrits.

Comparison with Montale’s oudh-and-rose scents is inevitable, but nothing that I’ve smelled from Montale comes close to Homage in style. The rose used in Homage is at once spicier and sweeter than Montale’s, with echoes of nutmeg, cardamom, and raspberry liqueur. Amouage’s oudh is more rounded and yielding, softer and less medicinal than Montale’s, yet still in possession of that deliciously bitter, saffron-like edge that makes the resin so irresistible to my nose. Homage is heady and enveloping and persistently claims your attention. You don’t just wear this fragrance – you wallow in it. Such an unapologetically dense, heavy fragrance is not for everyone, nor every occasion, yet there is a certain clarity in Homage’s structure that may actually render it more wearable for some than the more powdery and animalic Gold (both men’s and women’s). At $350 US or so for a 12ml bottle of perfume oil, this isn’t going to be a lemming, but I can understand the critical enthusiasm: Homage is worth smelling just for the experience.

This starts with a large whack of top quality frankincense; effervescent, menthol-like, penetrating, rich and sparkling. This is follwed by a very natural smelling cedarwood. The little iris then provides a link to blend seamlessly into the base of ambroxin which is a little sweet and a perfect balance to the fire-dry incense.

An exceptionally well made fragrance from very good ingredients, totally free from irritating synthy woody-amber accords. Simple and effective - just how I like them. Diffusiveness is perfect, longevity satisfactory with a good application. Highly recommended.

OMG! For the first few minutes, this stuff reeks to high heaven in an extremely bad way! However, it eventually develops into an impressive high-quality leather scent.

This is one of the few Montale aouds that I really admire but its moderate sillage and longevity (roughly 4 hours) has left me doubting if this stuff is bottle-worthy. Still, it’s definitely one of the best leather scents I’ve ever had the pleasure of wearing (well, after the top notes subside, that is).

However, I urge you to repeat this mantra:

Try before you buy,
try before you buy,
try before you buy…

******

If you’re interested in purchasing any Montale fragrances, please consider our highly-respected Basenotes member, maisonstinky, as your first point of contact. He offers an exceptional service, competitive prices and special offers to fellow Basenoters. For further details, please cut and paste the link below:

http://www.basenotes.net/specials/montale.html

[Original submission date: 10 April 2008]

LouLou is a sweet, powdery floral-oriental scent with the texture of a velvet cushion and the mass of an industrial drill press. It opens at full throttle, with indolic jasmine, tuberose, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, heliotrope, and plenty of aldehydes. All of these are soon joined by a very rich sandalwood and animalic musk and the foundation is a sweet, powdery vanillic amber. The composition is dense, viscous and determinedly “old school” in character. It’s also smooth, coherent, and well-blended, so while it represents a style that many would find matronly, LouLou exemplifies that style rather well.

This kind of big oriental scent is rarely ever quiet, and LouLou is true to type, with aggressive projection and thick clouds of sillage. It’s “in for a penny, in for a pound” with LouLou. To enjoy it you’ve got to love the kind of retro, “perfumey” scents that granny wore, and you must feel no shame flouting your love. Sweet. Powdery. If that’s your thing, LouLou just might be your girl!

I found an old bottle of this at the back of the closet and decided to give it another go. I first smelled it on a work friend some years ago. Every time I would walk past her I got such a lovely whiff of her fragrance - it was soft and a bit rosy and skin scenty. When she told me it was Tommy Girl I was surprised, because having sniffed the bottle in passing I thought it was boring. So I tried it, too, liked it for a short while, then grew bored with it. I'm trying it again today, and the drydown is quite lovely, kind of clean-laundry-detergenty underlying a green meadow, but very pleasant. But gosh what you have to go through to get there! It's so astringent on top it's almost like Windex. Not for me - life is too short to wear fragrances I don't totally LOVE - so back in the closet it goes until I get another urge to sniff it. I suppose I like it better on others than I do on myself. I love the bottle, though, and that's why I hang on to it. I can't imagine anybody else would want it anyway.

I’ve now tried both the EDT and perfume extrait concentrations, and I still can’t make my mind up about Habanita.

Granted, this is a very rich and opulent oriental (consisting of vanilla, amber, leather, tobacco, light florals, vetiver and oakmoss), with the EDT being as potent as any respectable EDP. Unfortunately, its leans too much towards smelling old-fashioned and tends to spoil my enjoyment of it. I really do think you have to be in the right frame of mind to appreciate its qualities but (for such situations) it’s usually difficult to determine this until it’s too late.

Unlike other reviewers, I don’t have an issue with its powdery nature or with the EDT’s harsh opening nature (which I think is due to the lavender top notes). However, while there are times when I can appreciate it for what it is, there are also moments when I simply can’t – it’s just one of those Jekyll and Hyde fragrances that demands an acquired taste.

Habanita is most certainly a sophisticated and sensual scent but it often fails to completely (and consistently) captivate me to an acceptable degree – so much that I’ve long lost count of the number of times I’ve considered purchasing a bottle, only to later change my mind. There are very few fragrances that have the ability to both allure and dissuade me, in equal measure, and I’m afraid this is one of them.

It’s definitely a classic creation but its age is far too evident and, as much as I have wrestled with unconditionally admiring it, I have finally conceded defeat. However, regardless of my disappointment, I think anyone with an interest in perfumery should give Habanita a try at least once.

I have to agree that there are similarities between this and Balle de Match. Personally, I feel that Balle de Match is the better of the two, with more depth and complexity. Besides this observation, Citrus Paradisi is still quite a nice offering. However, there is something in the composition that isn’t quite right, although it’s probably the civet in the base notes.

Not bad at all!

Well, well, well! What do we have here?

Personally, Ambre 114 is everything Ambre Sultan should have been. They are very much alike but there’s a richer amber presence that is both mouth-wateringly delicious and warm. Also, the herbal properties of Ambre Sultan are toned down in Ambre 114, making it much easier to enjoy when first encountered.

The top notes of thyme and nutmeg in no way challenge the nose – in fact, I found the presence of the thyme to be more harmonious with the rest of the composition than in Ambre Sultan. As others have mentioned, this is extremely well-blended and the sweetness of the amber recedes after a while. After this stage, it reveals more of its resinous nature but in a very polite way. Also, the base notes of ambergris, musk and a combination of vanilla, tonka bean and benzoin create a very soft, and yet satisfying, powdery drydown.

With very good longevity and moderate sillage, Ambre 114 is not the most tenacious or nuclear of amber fragrances available. However, it’s such a beautifully crafted scent that this more than compensates for its shortcomings. Although it’s not particularly challenging to the nose, it’s certainly not a boring scent either. Where this will appeal to those who don’t care for amber scents, it also offers a rich prospect of enjoyment for certified amber lovers.

I really wasn’t expecting to be bowled over by yet another amber fragrance but there’s no denying Ambre 114’s appeal – this is now one of my top five favourite ambers. Unfortunately, as I’ve already found my perfect amber scent, there’s very little point in owning a bottle of this. However, this hasn’t stopped me from trying to talk myself into buying a bottle just for the heck of…

The opening of Jean Marie Farina is an invitingly fresh citrus and floral eau de cologne. Unfortunately, the drydown is very musty and old-fashioned, and it ends up being quite unpleasant to wear. Maybe it's my skin chemistry, or possibly the clove and carnation in the mid notes, but this alone prevents it from getting a thumbs-up.

Escentric 02 is, simply, Molecule 02 (or ambroxan) with vetiver, muscone, orris and elderflower thrown into the mix.

It'd be much cheaper to purchase some ambroxan, from a perfume supplier, and then layer it with a vetiver fragrance of your choice.

All the offerings from this house are a joke...

Escentric 01 is, simply, Molecule 01 (or Iso E Super) with pink pepper, lime and incense thrown into the mix. The overall effect is a citrus and pepper opening (that smells like gin and tonic) with a cedar-incense drydown.

It'd be much cheaper to purchase some Iso E Super, from a perfume supplier, and then layer it with a woody fragrance of your choice.

The whole concept's a complete rip-off...

Surely purchasing 100ml of ambroxan, from a perfume supplier, would be a lot cheaper than obtaining a bottle of Molecule 02?

The price mark-up is scandalous...

Surely purchasing half-a-litre of ISO E Super, from a perfume supplier, would be a lot cheaper than obtaining a bottle of Molecule 01?

The price mark-up is simply ridiculous...

EDP review:

I've tried both the original and newer formulation of Samsara and, while I admire them, I couldn't really bring myself to owning a bottle.

The newer formulation is more synthetic to my nose, while the original formulation starts off with an unimpressive alcohol top note – it took much longer for the original formulation to really blossom, while the newer formulation immediately raced out of the gate. But it's the sandalwood drydown that's quite special. Personally, I found the sandalwood more prominent in the original formulation. Also, where the original formulation is quieter and performs closer to the skin, the newer formulation (initially) comes across as loud and quite brash.

Samsara does have an element of charm but there's also something hollow about it that fails to fully capture my imagination. It could be considered unisex but only just.

1) Initial impressions:

At first, my nose was met with a very sharp combo of oud and, what I can best describe as, a rich red plum note. Initially, I didn’t know what to make of it – it was so astringent that my nose desperately tried to make sense of it all. Once the opening blast calmed down, I could detect some faint floral notes. It was only when the vanilla later emerged that the composition came into its own.

It quickly developed into a gourmand scent, with vanilla, oud and the remnants of the plum note (now somewhat boozy) quite prominent. To my nose, there was a sexy gourmand vibe occurring – this stage persisted for almost an hour before the vanilla subsided and the oud took centre stage again. The other notes had now settled down at this point and all I was left with was this slightly fruity (not floral) oud drydown. I gently breathed onto my arm, to generate some heat, and noticed that the vanilla and boozy plum notes suddenly reappeared (but not as prominently as before).

Although it's still early days, Red Aoud impressed in spades. By incorporating notes that would normally be confined to their regular line, Montale has breathed new life into their aoud line.


2) Final conclusion:

After a few weeks wearing this, my opinion of Red Aoud has drastically changed for the worse. It seems my love affair with this is now well and truly over, for the following reasons:

a) The more I wear it, the more it comes across as muddy and unnecessarily cluttered – there's just too many incompatible notes fighting for attention and it begins to grate after a while. It's a composition that's in dire need of better construction and more opportunities for the notes to really breathe.

b) It now reminds me of the air freshener used in the toilets of a couple of restaurants I've been to. I made this unfortunate association within days of first testing it and have never been able to shake it off.

c) From the mid notes to the drydown, the iris becomes very prominent (and I'm not a big fan of this note). At times, it feels like I'm wearing a better blended version of Dior Homme Intense.

d) Due to its pungent nature, I really can't see myself reaching for it very often.

Based on all the above points, it's most certainly not for me. However, I'll give it a neutral rating for being so unique.

******

If you’re interested in purchasing any Montale fragrances, please consider our highly-respected Basenotes member, maisonstinky, as your first point of contact. He offers an exceptional service, competitive prices and special offers to fellow Basenoters. For further details, please cut and paste the link below:

http://www.basenotes.net/specials/montale.html

[Original submission date: 28 September 2008]

Customer: So, this is the ‘intense’ version of Tom Ford for Men?

SA: Oh, yes!

Customer: Is it EDP concentration? After all, this is the extreme version.

SA: Ermmm… no.

Customer: So, it’s still the same strength as Tom Ford for Men?!

SA: Ahem... yes, that's right...

Customer: Okay… but it does have better longevity and sillage, right?

SA: Well, the difference is quite marginal, to be honest – the emphasis here is actually in the composition of the notes and...

Customer: But isn’t it double the price?

SA: Ermmm, yes...

Customer: So, essentially, this fragrance is for mugs and people who have money to burn?

(The SA stares blankly at the customer, wishing to be somewhere else...)


[Original submission date: 25 May 2008]

For those expecting a highly potent incense scent in Norma Kamali Incense, let me warn you now that you’ll be sorely disappointed. If anything, this is more of an ambery-type scent with spices.

During the opening, the first thing I noticed was an almost menthol note, in the same vein as Montale’s Patchouli Leaves. Maybe it’s eucalyptus? At first, I wasn’t quite sure but trizydlux’s review has certainly hit the nail on the head – it’s labdanum that I was smelling (which is also listed as one of the official notes in Patchouli leaves).

Throughout its development, I am unable to detect much incense or copal, and there is definitely no burning accord (much to my disappointment) – it merely comes across as a distant relation to Patchouli Leaves, with spices and subtle incense notes playing supporting roles.

As for longevity, this seems to be another myth – I roughly get about six hours from this perfume extrait (albeit with reasonable sillage). In addition, it doesn’t smell old-fashioned, as originally feared, and comes across as quite contemporary. Based on this, one is left wondering if this was re-formulated at some point (and the chances of that are reasonably high).

Norma Kamali Incense is, ultimately, quite an exotic scent to wear but it miserably fails to deliver upon its promises (and what promises they are). However, if I had to rename it, I would simply call it Spicy Labdanum.

Well, I’m afraid there’s not much I can say about this one. Yes, it’s slightly masculine (in an Italian way) but one can’t deny how faint and generic this smells. I also get the tobacco and leather, in the composition, but it’s so underwhelming and uneventful that I’m at a loss as to what Gucci was thinking when they created this.

The downward spiral continues, while also insulting the intelligence of consumers in the process…

Although it's not an unadulterated patchouli scent, Patchouli Noir is not all that dark either...

Instead, this is a delicious and very wearable patchouli (pretty much in the same manner as it's amber counterpart, Ambre 114). It's quite a complex composition, with subtle floral accords, but my main reservation is its lack of presence. While its longevity and sillage are slightly above average, I was hoping for more aggression and drama (especially going by its name). Alas, as a result, its general performance was very polite and demure.

Still, this is a lovely patchouli fragrance that's worth investigating but, somehow, I didn't find it quite as compelling as Ambre 114.

Escada Homme is a boozy-woody fragrance that, at first, smells very boozy. There’s also a fruity accord in the composition, with something spicy (cinnamon?) lurking in the background. It’s an okay scent, albeit slightly dated, but too inoffensive and safe for my liking.

After trying all the perfume extrait samples by Farmacia SS. Annunziata, I was left quite bewildered rather than amazed (and it was the latter I was dearly hoping for). It’s not so much that only one out of the three releases has any noticeable longevity on my skin (i.e. this one) but more to do with an acute sense of been there done that – but solely with other Italian niche houses.

Maybe I’m getting a bit paranoid but, at this point in my exploration of Italian niche perfumery, I’m getting the distinct impression that most of these houses are… well, plagiarising each other. And even if this wasn’t completely the case, they definitely seem to be copying each other from a similar conceptual angle.

So, you still don’t believe me? Okay, well answer this question:

Name three notes (or note themes), which Italian niche perfumery seems currently obsessed with?

Okay, so are your answers similar to the dominant notes used in the Farmacia SS. Annunziata perfume extraits (i.e. amber, vanilla and patchouli)? I’m pretty sure you guessed at least two of them correctly…

As for Vaniglia del Madagascar, this smells at least 99% identical to Profumum Roma’s Vanitas. Now, I’m not accusing Farmacia SS. Annunziata of copying Profumum Roma, since I have no idea which one came out first, but you’d have to be either suffering from OCD or a complete vanilla freak to own both of these.

Looking at the note pyramids of both (which isn’t really saying much) the main difference between them is more in the drydown – Vaniglia del Madagascar employs amber (which I honestly couldn’t detect) while Vanitas utilises myrrh and sandalwood (noticeable but very subtle). The drydown of Vanitas also possesses a slightly dark and brooding undertone (possibly due to the myrrh) but, apart from that, they pretty much smell the same.

Overall, I could only detect two significant differences between them – price and sillage. Vaniglia del Madagascar does possess sufficient (albeit moderate) sillage but, while being a perfume extrait, it’s unable to match the nuclear EDP sillage of Vanitas. As for price, Vaniglia del Madagascar is, interestingly, much cheaper than Vanitas but that’s not to say the quality of the ingredients and blending are inferior – they’re pretty much of a similar high standard.

Personally, I much prefer the intense opulence of Vanitas (it’s definitely the more tenacious of the two). However, if you wish for a softer version of Vanitas or would simply like a cheaper alternative (once you’ve managed to accept the fact that sillage and longevity will be slightly less), Vaniglia del Madagascar would make an excellent choice.

I have to admit that when I first smelt Vaniglia del Madagascar my heart sank – the realisation that I could have acquired something very similar to Vanitas, for much less, was too much to bear thinking about (and £50 is a huge difference). However, after testing them side-by-side, I can confidently state that I’m still very happy with my Profumum Roma purchase.

Therefore, based on my personal tastes, Vaniglia del Madagascar is very good but Vanitas is much better. Still, Vaniglia del Madagascar is highly recommended and can easily be considered as one of the best vanilla scents currently available.

Ichnusa is a scent that would certainly give the highly revered Philosykos a run for its money, especially as it’s an EDP concentration. As lizzie_j already mentioned, this is a wonderfully green aromatic, with a juicy fig accord that's not as creamy as Diptyque’s offering (which, in some ways, is a good thing). Unfortunately, the base notes become sweeter with a dominant vanilla accord emerging – much to the point that I’m often reminded of Montale’s Red Vetyver by this stage.

However, I think I’ll need to test this one again, especially when summer arrives, in order to decide if it's truly bottle-worthy. But, for now, I’ll give it a thumbs-up for providing a high quality, and longer lasting, alternative to the very short-lived Philosykos.

[Original submission date: 01 March 2009]

Gift Femme is probably my favourite from this house but it’s still not full bottle-worthy by mile. It’s simply another fruity-floral with base notes of patchouli, sandalwood, amber and musk. Regardless of the luxurious image this house attempts to project, it still smells synthetic and verges dangerously close to developing into something very generic.

No gold flakes in this one, though…

[Original submission date: 25 December 2008]

After the deceptive disappointment of Isfarkand pour Homme (i.e. a great opening but a generic and weak cedar drydown), I wasn’t really expecting much from Zizan (and if the listed notes were anything to go by, it sounded more like a hybrid of Ormonde Man and Isfarkand pour Homme). However, trying to be as open-minded as possible, I decided to give Zizan a chance.

Upon the first application, I was met with the usual citrus, pepper and juniper top notes that I’ve come to expect from most Ormonde Jayne offerings for men. Yes, it certainly smelt sophisticated but there was also a noticeable degree of déjà vu about it. Undeterred, I remained patient for the next stage of violet and jasmine, which (to be honest) completely escaped me. Instead, Zizan quickly moved to the base notes with strong whiffs of an almost creamy vetiver greeting my nose.

Within less than a minute of applying Zizan, the fragrance had morphed from a typical Ormonde Jayne offering to something I had smelt before. The scent was unmistakeable but it took me several moments before reaching the conclusion that it smelt very similar to Montale’s Red Vetyver. Although its longevity and sillage were very admirable (easily six hours) the association with Red Vetyver was impossible to dispel (even after the clichéd cedar accord became more evident). After several hours, the vetiver and cedar were faintly present with traces of amber and musk, working hard to sustain the fragrance during its final moments on my skin.

Although it smelt of quality, Zizan still came across as unnecessarily synthetic and lacking the degree of originality I was hoping to discover. If I had to describe more accurately what Zizan smells like, I would say this: where Terre d'Hermes is transparent and Red Vetyver is opaque, Zizan is translucent.

Unfortunately, for me, Zizan has proven to be the final nail in the coffin, with regards to my interest in this house.

[Original submission date: 10 December 2008]

I’ve heard comparisons between this and Lutens’ Un Cèdre and I can understand where some Basenoters are coming from. Both have an emphasis on cedar but, while Un Cèdre incorporates tuberose and amber, Feminitè du Bois utilises plum and vanilla notes instead.

After a while, the plum accord surrenders its dominance to the cedar base notes with a hint of vanilla lurking in the background. It’s also at this point that I start losing interest in Feminitè du Bois, as it was the sultry and juicy plum note that held my attention in the first place.

Still it’s a smooth, sensual and subtle cedar scent that is worth investigating, although I felt its longevity could have been slightly better. I also think that it’s more unisex than Un Cèdre which, paradoxically, comes across as more feminine.

If you found Un Cèdre disappointing, give this a try.

[Original submission date: 13 April 2008]

What sounded like an interesting concept turned out to be somewhat of a disappointment. The opening showcases both the vanilla and chypre notes, working in perfect harmony – with a sharpness that’s at the same time very pleasant. However, the mid notes are a complete mess and the composition suddenly went crude on my skin. After at least an hour, of tolerating what can be best described as rotting vanilla, the vanilla note becomes more prominent and remains that way.

It's definitely not for me.

******

If you’re interested in purchasing any Montale fragrances, please consider our highly-respected Basenotes member, maisonstinky, as your first point of contact. He offers an exceptional service, competitive prices and special offers to fellow Basenoters. For further details, please cut and paste the link below:

http://www.basenotes.net/specials/montale.html

[Original submission date: 10 April 2008]

At first, I found 1740 to be a very promising composition. With its well-composed mixture of bergamot, leather, patchouli and vanilla, it convincingly masquerades itself as a Luten-esque woody leather scent. Unfortunately, as always with my skin chemistry, the immortelle eventually dominated and never backed down. In the end, the drydown was very similar to a more tolerable version of Annick Goutal’s Sables.

If you love immortelle / everlasting flower / fungeek, this would be a great fragrance to investigate. However, if like me, such notes tend to overwhelm and outstay their welcome (thus ensuring acute olfactory irritation) give this one a miss. It’s a real pity because, if the base notes were as appealing as the top and mid notes, I would probably have given this a thumbs-up.

The opening blast was just too harsh but, within a couple of hours, it did settle into something almost wearable. I easily noticed the tar notes throughout its development, while the drydown was slightly creamy.

Unfortunately, my overall impression (especially when compared to L’Air) was that it came across as somewhat unfinished. I also found the drydown in need of a slight kick (but not as over the top as the top notes).

It’s pretty good (after a little patience) but not really for me.

[Original submission date: 25 May 2008]

Hmmm… I was expecting great things from this one (even if the bottle looks like a suntan lotion product). At first, the top notes seem promising but it quickly descends into a synthetic mess that’s hard for me to appreciate. There are definitely associations with salty seas and coconuts, but that wasn’t enough to maintain my dwindling fascination with it. It’s just one of those scents that quickly irritates.

Strangely enough, this seems to be very popular among Eastern European men – it’s the only time I encounter this scent in London (it’s impossible to obtain in the UK but I’ve been informed that it’s quite easy to find in countries such as Poland). I’m very curious as to why this is the case…

[Original submission date: 25 May 2008]

The initial top notes smelt slightly medicinal with a sharp bitterness. Although I wasn't too sure if it was really to my tastes, I found it intriguing. I did get a fleeting impression that its uniqueness could eventually win me over (in the same way Chergui did) and, as it dried down, it developed into something more feminine than unisex. Once again, this wasn’t too much of a problem for me.

Unfortunately, I came to the realisation that the dry down (hours later) was very similar to Bois d’Argent. Personally, I prefer Bois d’Argent to the harsh aldehydic nature of La Myrrhe.

[Original submission date: 25 May 2008]

A very green scent with citrus top notes and lots of moss and pine. Personally, I can't stand pine notes – it just comes across as so dated (circa ‘70s and early-‘80s). Obviously, this one just isn’t for me.

[Original submission date: 15 January 2007]

I completely agree with zztopp’s wonderful assessment of Balle de Match and there’s not much more I can add.

Balle de Match is one of the best citrus scents I’ve come across so far. The aspect I love most about the composition is the way the juniper berry and peppery accords work so well with the zesty citrus top notes. The drydown is quite subtle but the clarity and richness of the lemon and grapefruit are still there for quite some time.

It’s a refined and classy scent with pretty good longevity, especially for something of this ilk. I’ve been holding back, for some time, from getting a bottle of this but I may soon cave in, with the summer heat rapidly approaching.

Although I quite enjoyed wearing this, one can’t help denying that most (if not all) of the Ormonde Jayne fragrances adhere too much to a particular olfactory style – the bright and bold citrus opening, the floral / spicy / floral-spicy mid notes (intermingling with remnants of the top notes) and the inevitable domineering amber or cedar drydown. This house verges considerably close to being a two-trick pony (one for the male offerings and the other for the female scents) and, sadly, Osmanthus doesn’t serve to discredit such an accusation.

Now, I have to be honest here and confess that I do not recall ever having smelt real osmanthus but, as Merbert pointed out, this is more of a fruit salad composition than a die-hard floral affair. That in itself shouldn’t be seen as a huge negative, especially when other houses are releasing fragrances with equally misleading names and descriptions (Montale and Martine Micallef, anyone?). However, when the floral notes are subdued by a dominant pomelo and peppery development, one does begin to wonder if Osmanthus really deserves the excuses such compassion demands.

It’s not a terrible scent but it’s nothing remarkable either and, for the price this house is charging, one would expect something much more satisfying.

Essentially, Le Mâle with dominant florals in the top notes.

The James Blunt of perfumery…

[Original submission date: 29 October 2007]

Although it’s not a completely generic fresh scent, Guerlain Homme still remains a complete and utter disappointment from this classic house. I’m so disappointed by this wishy-washy offering that I can’t even be bothered to write a proper review. So, below are some of my thoughts:

1) There's hardly a mojito accord to my nose – the mint and citrus are too subtle.
2) It smells more like an updated version of Vetiver, with a dominant 'clean' vetiver accord.
3) Its sillage is minimal with a longevity of about 3-5 hours.
4) It smells more synthetic than I would normally expect from a Guerlain.
5) After the top notes disappear (whatever you can detect of them) the drydown is generic and very faint.
6) It reminds me more of a Bulgari than an actual Guerlain in more ways than one.

Obviously, Guerlain Homme is an attempt to create a mainstream release for men and, to a certain degree, they have probably succeeded (because it's an extremely boring and cheap-smelling creation). Unfortunately, the consequence of such an achievement is that the reputation of Guerlain has been further stained by yet another below par release.

This is something Jean-Paul Guerlain could have quickly rustled up in his sleep.

[Original submission date: 10 December 2008]

I mistakenly obtained a sample of Lipstick Rose, thinking this house only had one rose scent, when what I really wanted was Une Rose! Ah, well…

The best part about Lipstick Rose is the sharp and sweet fruity opening – an almost sparkingly raspberry accord. The top notes, at first, smell very juicy and true to the real thing. However, within minutes, that sparkling sweetness grows rapidly dull as the violet note emerges. As the sweetness decreases a notch or two, it’s from this point onwards that Lipstick rose evolves into something very one-dimensional.

Although I have no idea what Lancôme lipstick smells like, I can also detect a subtle lipstick accord becoming ever present. What started off as bright and natural now smells mute and slightly synthetic. The main problem I have is how it promised so much at the beginning only to disappoint, literally, minutes later.

I completely agree with Nukapai about this being more playful than sensual but I can only relate to this point during the opening, as the drydown is simply cold and clinical. By the drydown stage, when the violets have surrendered to the amber and slightly metallic rose accords, I’ve completely lost interest in wearing this.

Although it’s a tad feminine, I think most men are able to pull off wearing this due to its more unisex drydown. It has good longevity and stays closer to the skin as it evolves. If Lipstick Rose had a few more tricks up its sleeve, I might have given it a few more wearings. But, alas, this is not the case and there are far more interesting fragrances (both designer and niche) that can be worn in place of this.

[Original submission date: 24 October 2008]

L'Ombre dans L'Eau is very different from most of Diptyques offerings, in that it isn’t strictly a linear scent – not that linearity is a bad thing but it was a very pleasant surprise:

Top notes: Starts off with a very sharp (and masculine) citrus-green opening – it’s one of the best and most unique openings I’ve experienced in quite a while. The presence of the blackcurrant leaves create a dark, pungent and slightly sour accord. This stage lingers for at least 10 minutes.

Mid notes: This is the most challenging stage. At first, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but (based on other reviews) realised a tomato leaf / plant accord shinning through [for those who loved this stage the best, and wished it lasted longer, the closest scent that comes to mind is Sisley’s Eau de Campagne]. The gradual emergence of the rose can be clearly detected half-way through.

Base notes: Although the green notes remain, albeit more subdued, the rose note becomes more prominent. Unfortunately, some disappointment sets in as I’m heavily reminded of both Lutens’ Sa Majesté la Rose and Montale’s Ta’if Rose. However, based on the sudden relisation that the other two were released at least 15 years later, all respect for this composition remains unscathed.

L'Ombre dans L'Eau still smells timeless and is a wonderful creation. Its lasting power is also one of the best I've experienced by Diptyque. Although I'm not sure if it's full bottle-worthy for me, it's most certainly an amazing creation that was ahead of its time.

[Original submission date: 24 October 2008]

Roadster is, indeed, not terribly original but it does smell great. It's just a pity that the drydown isn't as well-composed as the deliciously minty top notes – it just comes across as somewhat muddled.

As for the bottle, although I hate the design (I can't drive and have never been interested in cars), I do love the heavy glass used for the bottle. Also, the swivel cap is a wonderful touch.

[Original submission date: 27 September 2008]

This has similarities to CdG’s Avignon but smells 'cleaner' with an almost cold metallic accord running through it. There's also a very pleasant menthol note, in the top notes, which gradually fades in the drydown – I very much like this stage. Unfortunately, for a Tauer, its longevity and sillage are disappointingly below average.

Maybe this one needs the summer heat to really blossom (like Serge Lutens’ Gris Clair) but, if this is the case, I’m at a loss as to why it was released in January. Also, even though it uses a very high percentage of natural frankincense essential oil, the use of the word 'Extreme' is still somewhat misleading because this is not a loud fragrance in the slightest.

In a nutshell, I'm largely disappointed because I was expecting something stronger (and possibly more sensual) than anything from the CdG Incense line. Although the longevity of incense is not necessarily the most tenacious of fragrance notes, I was still expecting Andy to turn the concept on its head.

Incense Extrême is just too timid for my liking.

[Original submission date: 11 July 2008]

After all the hype, I was expecting something really special. Instead all I got was something along the lines of a smoky Tea for Two, with oily petrol top notes (and a dash of pineapple thrown in for good measure).

It was definitely not up my alley but I can see the appeal.

[Original submission date: 10 April 2008]

An amazing opening but the drydown was very generic and disappointing.

If you don’t agree with me about the drydown, but could do without the top notes, try Scent Intense or Nu instead. Your bank balance will certainly thank you for it.

[Original submission date: 10 April 2008]

Initially, this one bowled me over – citrusy top notes that took longer than usual to subside, with herbal undertones fleetingly introducing themselves before the emergence of the drydown.

And that’s where it all went wrong for me...

The herbal drydown is okay but, in comparison to the opening, disappointing and not as long-lasting as I was expecting.

This was one big anti-climax.

[Original submission date: 10 April 2008]

A pleasant and very light cologne that reminds me of Caron’s Le 3me Homme but with more of an emphasis on an ‘apple-pie' accord rather than florals.

Although not full bottle-worthy (poor longevity), it’s still a pleasure to smell the wonderful top notes.

[Original submission date: 25 May 2008]

Louban is definitely a case of Montale going through the motions. It’s sorely a case of been there, done that (even if some incense has been thrown into the, now tired, rose and oud combo).

It’s not as tenacious or potent as Montale’s earlier oud efforts but some may prefer it this way. As for me, I much prefer their classic releases such as Black Aoud and Aoud Lime. This may well be a case of Montale attempting to attract more sales but, based on their unique positioning within the Western fragrance market, it’s very disappointing to see Montale compromise their integrity for the sake of an increase in turnover (and it’s not as if they desperately need to achieve this).

One also has to remember that, due to their potency, their older releases are not perfumes most of us will finish as quickly as those from other fragrance houses. So, where does it leave the veteran / die-hard fans of this house, who already own multiple Montales and are still eagerly awaiting another amazing release (like myself)? Probably out in the cold, it seems…

Please make a swift comeback, the Montale of old.

******

If you’re interested in purchasing any Montale fragrances, please consider our highly-respected Basenotes member, maisonstinky, as your first point of contact. He offers an exceptional service, competitive prices and special offers to fellow Basenoters. For further details, please cut and paste the link below:

http://www.basenotes.net/specials/montale.html

I’m actually quite surprised that iris isn’t one of the notes listed in the pyramid, as it largely comes across as a better blended version of Dior Homme. I suppose it’s the lavender and star anise creating this illusion but it’s an intriguing (albeit brief) illusion nevertheless.

But I’m afraid that’s where my fascination with 1725 ends. Personally, I do not find it sexy in the ubiquitous sense and can only just about comprehend the use of the name ‘Casanova’ for this composition.

With medium longevity and very low sillage, I suppose I was expecting something with more richness and oomph. A stereotypical Casanova is renowned for having a highly noticeable presence and charisma, while overwhelming his ‘victims’ with irresistible and manipulative qualities (while making other men pale in comparison). Based on this, 1725 falls completely on its face because, unlike the Casanova it aspires to, it is too modest and unconvincing in its nature.

Overall, it’s desperately in need of more gumption and excitement.

Based on what the name implies, I found this to be almost devoid of these accords. It’s largely a fleeting soapy affair with only faint traces of incense and myrrh.

To be awfully frank, my dear boy, if you’re looking for something more substantial, it’d be a jolly good idea to look elsewhere…

For those who find the Montale rose aouds a bit too full on, Dark Rose would be the perfect alternative. There’s also an underlying fruitiness in the composition, which adds an extra dimension.

After the initial opening, it’s far too demure for my liking. However, this still deserves a thumbs-up.

This is a pleasing and old-fashioned rose scent, which would appeal to anyone after a more Victorian take on such an olfactory theme. Like other creations from this house, it has moderate longevity and sillage.

Mimosa stays true to Czech & Speake’s old-fashioned identity but smells soapy and musty in a very bad way. It’s probably my least favourite offering from this house but its longevity and sillage are above average.

Up until recently, most of the chocolate / anise scents tested so far had failed to fully satisfy in one way or another – too synthetic, disappointing longevity, an unpleasant accord, too sweet, etc. However, Guerlain's Gourmand Coquin is the closest one to being full-bottle worthy. It's not terribly ground-breaking, and the bottle design comes across as uninspired, but it seems to have almost touched all the bases that many have failed to.

The chocolate is slightly dark but, coupled with the vanilla, very creamy. I also detect a slight rum note but this is very subtle. It's not too feminine or cloying but rather well-balanced, while possessing a slight sophistication about it. Essentially, it takes certain key elements from both Rochas Man and Douce Amere, and revs up the volume to a more acceptable level.

Gourmand Coquin possesses a gentle and yet lovely sillage, with very good longevity. It also smells very natural and the interplay of vanilla and chocolate would make many vanilla lovers swoon. However, while this is a glorious scent, it’s not quite as amazing as Spiritueuse Double Vanille (in terms of its composition, distinctiveness and tenacity). This is not necessarily a bad thing but its over-inflated price tag only serves to magnify such shortcomings.

Maybe one day I’ll go crazy and buy myself a bottle but, until then, its qualities certainly deserve some praise.

Fresh, generic, watery, light blue... Not much more to say, I’m afraid.

Sorry but Allure Homme Sport smells like some cheap deodorant spray for men…

Dissapointing ,synthetic calone bomb. Estee Lauder has such good examples in Tom Fords fragrances and DK Fuel for men,which they even re-released. So why bother to come up with this boring crap? One Acqua Di Gio is enough, and that one was even better. Thumbs down.

Patchouli starts off with a lot of promise – it’s alluring, contemporary-smelling and very potent. However, like most of the fragrances I tested from this house, it turned on my skin within an hour, and smelt pretty rancid and unbecoming.

On this occasion, I’ll blame my skin chemistry but I still think this is one of the best offerings from Parfums M. Micallef.

Vanille Aoud is a creamy vanilla and oud composition that failed to capture my imagination. It’s a soft creation that also smells very thin. In addition, the oud lacks any presence throughout its development.

If you’ve been spoilt by any of the Montale aoud releases, you’ll be sorely disappointed with this one.

EDP review:

I’ve never been a great admirer of Chanel No.5 (regardless of the concentration) and this variation on such a theme will not change my opinion. Dia for Women is a heavy and powdery floral-aldehyde that just reeks of a decadent lifestyle I honestly have no interest in aspiring to.

I admire elegance but this is just too much.

Lyric Woman is a marvellous spicy floral-incense fragrance, with sweet fruity undertones cascading throughout. The overall sweetness of the composition is further enhanced by a rich oriental base of the vanilla, woods and incense. With such masterful blending, the overall result is simply divine.

This is a deep and opulent scent, which I much prefer over the anaemic Lyric Man – there’s more oomph and complexity, and (as a result) is more satisfying to wear. Its longevity is above average but, for the price Amouage is charging, it could have been somewhat better. Lyric Woman also has decent sillage and, although it’s not necessarily a sillage monster, will certainly please more than it will disappoint.

Overall, I think Amouage have really outdone themselves on this one and see it as a superior compositon to the recently re-released Ubar. For me, there was a certain ‘hollowness’ to Ubar that prevented me from enjoying it as much as I would have liked. No matter, as they are both worthy creations.

This is most certainly Amouage’s best creation to date.

Although it’s the most adventurous of the three eau de colognes, it’s also my least favourite. The citrus notes (bergamot, mandarin, grapefruit and lemon) dissipate within a matter of seconds and, although the red ginger makes a cameo appearance from time to time, it’s really the osmanthus (at this point) that’s the star of the show.

Towards the drydown, the red ginger re-emerges to overwhelm (and eventually dominate) the osmanthus note. The transition from the red ginger to the patchouli, vetiver and vanilla drydown is well executed but one gets the impression that the grand finale is one big anti-climax. After a while, only whispers of vanilla, patchouli and musk remain.

Personally, I didn’t really enjoy the coupling of the red ginger and osmanthus, and felt that it was more floral than spicy at times. Also, I really wouldn’t know when to wear this (let alone reach for it). It’s an admirable effort, though.

Yes, the fruity-mint opening is briefly promising but (as others have mentioned) it’s completely generic and synthetic. There’s hardly anything redeeming about it and the name is just a pathetic example of desperation by the marketing department.

Nuit de Cellophane is a generic fruity-floral offering, which smells like many feminine designer scents based on the same theme. Oh dear…

As I stated over a year ago, this house has long run out of ideas (or enthusiasm) and is simply rehashing former glories.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen…

The cold, metallic and vegetal nature of Hiris just reminds me why I have such a difficult time appreciating iris dominant fragrances in general…

Now, I’m really getting sick and tired of these designer flankers, branding the word ‘intense’ or ‘extreme’ (let alone ‘sport’ – don’t get me started on that one) when the concentration is pretty much the same as the original (i.e. another weak EDT instead of a decent EDP). Okay, so some of the notes are revved up a few notches but, come on, such marketing strategies are nothing more than another exercise in pulling the wool over the consumer’s eyes. And what’s most concerning is that the masses will largely lap it up...

Punti zero.

Bulgari Aqua pour Homme is, admittedly, a surprisingly good aquatic. Although I’ve long moved on from such fragrances, one can’t help acknowledge how better composed (and less synthetic) it is to the myriad of aquatic scents currently available.

Yes, it may have been a somewhat lazy option for Bulgari (as most of their male and unisex fragrances tend to be geared towards smelling fresh) but it deserves a thumbs-up for showing that, with some tender loving care, decent aquatic scents are actually possible.

Crisp, clean and sophisticated it most certainly is but, with regards to longevity, even a dying mayfly can outlive a generous application of this…

Crisp, clean and sophisticated it most definitely is (and with much better longevity than the original) but, to be honest, it’s not that extreme – it still lacks sufficient substance.

For optimal results, apply your shirt / top with Bulgari pour Homme Extreme (in addition to your skin).

I’m afraid that Asha’s disappointment with Frapin 1270 is just as grave as mine. This had massive potential to be full-bottle worthy but didn’t really perform as well as expected. The notes are all there, sure, but its development is muddled and confusing, and the tart candy note never completely goes away – the whole gourmand theme overwhelms when, instead, it should have been just a facet.

Originally, I could sense great potential in this (particularly as a boozy version of Arabie with different twists and turns) but its execution and moderate longevity prevents it from scaling such heights.

I will certainly give Frapin 1270 another try in a few months but, while not wanting to completely dispute those who have posted positive reviews, I feel its fate may have simply fallen victim to that dirty word or taboo: ‘reformulation’.

Sandalo smells more like a synthetic aquatic than a sandalwood fragrance. Where’s the sandalwood?

This is a somewhat muddled and powdery rendition of vetiver that I didn’t really find appealing. I sensed more neroli than vetiver, thus giving it more of a floral presence as opposed to something earthy or woody. Sillage and longevity are below average.