Fragrance Reviews by Galamb_Borong

This fragrance is almost two fragrances in one. The first isn't terribly remarkable - a pleasant, lemon-centered eau de cologne with a slight musky tinge. The second is far more interesting - a cumin-heavy animalic fragrance with a leathery side.

Sadly neither of these two last at all long at all on me, and once the citrus has vanished, the sillage is poor. The top notes last ten, fifteen minutes at most, and the fragrance is gone in an hour or two on me.

I can imagine this fragrance being wonderful in hot weather, where the frequent re-applications to keep it going would be welcome and refreshing, but for most of the year, I don't have much of a use for this.

Thumbs up for a refreshing cologne with a funky animalic side, but be advised it has the faults and virtues inherent in the Eau de Cologne genre.

Bold and brash and a little tacky, Jasmin Et Cigarette is the only ELDO fragrance I've tried where these apparently endemic ELDO qualities seem appropriate.

There's not a lot I can say about this fragrance. It's granddaughter's fruity jasmine fragrance spilled into grandpa's tin of tobacco. It's a fairly linear progression from "mostly jasmine" to "mostly tobacco". It's rich, fruity, dirty, smoky, and all in all, a unique creation in the world of florals.

Like most ELDOs, it lasts till you're dead and has nuclear-fallout sillage. Apply cautiously.

An offensive pepto-bismol and bubblegum blast... no wangs or other bodily secretions present, but a wrist-scrubber none the less.

I've had a mixed relationship with #88. I've always recognized its quality, but found it a little odd and heavy for my tastes. It reminded me of grape crush or cough syrup mixed with Nag Champa, albeit a well done rendition of that accord.

This evening I decided to give it a thorough wearing, and applied it more heavily than I'd done before. The result changed my mind.

This is a heavy, deep and rich fragrance centered on rose and sandalwood. There is a fruity tang particularly prominent in the top notes - I assume it comes from the bergamont, though both frangipani and mimosa are naturally fruity florals and are listed in the blend.* The top notes soon modulate into a fuller and more distinct rose with sandalwood smoke billowing through its heart.

It is very hard to describe the nature of this fragrance, because while it is rose and sandalwood, it's so much more than that implies. Sweet, rich, thick, voluptuous, smooth, heavy - these are some of the attributes that come to mind. It's the olfactory equivalent of wading through a knee-deep pool of red velvet, and subtle is certainly one adjective that doesn't seem apt.

This is a big fragrance with a big and somewhat disconcerting personality. It's definitely a "character" scent; the perfect scent for the extrovert eccentric of either sex, or just someone who feels like attracting attention or showing off.

The sillage is good; the longevity is moderate.

#88 now takes its place among my other two favorite roses, being totally aesthetically removed from both the dry refinement of Paestum Rose and the limpid naturalness of Sa Majeste La Rose.

*The cynical side of me says "Really? Frangipani in an ELIZABETHAN recipe!?" But I'll forgive a good fragrance highly dubious ad copy.

It's not terribly offensive, but I really didn't like this. I got a blunt, synthetic, powdery, one-note rose that screamed ROSE, AND NOTHING BUT ROSE at maximum volume.

Great sillage and I'm sure it has the longevity endemic to the ELDO line, but I couldn't be bothered to wait long enough to find out. A wrist-scrubber for me, I'm sorry to say...

This is a strange, spicy fragrance, not at all what I was expecting yet at the same time, something more.

Its own ad copy states "Works like a medicine and behaves like a drug", and that may well be the case, but unlike some other reviewers I haven't found this to be a strongly medicinal fragrance. Perhaps it's because I associate "medicinal" with herbal, camphorous smells, and this is more of a spice-cupboard to my nose.

The top notes come on strong and almost a little fierce, clove, cinnamon, cardamom and nutmeg leading the charge. They're somewhat moderated by a honey note, and accompanied by a very peculiar note I can only describe as being the olfactory equivalent of Thrills chewing gum.

Thrills are supposed to be rosewater, but taste nothing of the sort. This note likewise smells nothing like rose, but a great deal like Thrills. Perhaps this is the rose listed in the official notes...?

The heart of this fragrance takes one of the most dramatic left-turns I've seen in a fragrance. The spices fade, and in their place is a sandalwood note that manages to be both smoky AND soapy.

The base is the least dramatic part of this fragrance. It's a fairly pleasant sandalwood and honey combination, the honey taking on a peculiar salival quality.

The sillage and longevity are both moderate on my skin.

If you like spicy fragrances or just odd fragrances in general, try this. Even if you don't like it, it's definitely a conversation piece, and you'll smell nothing remotely similar on the market.

Personally, it's become an instant favorite of mine, and has been added to the ever-growing category of "must-have" bottles.

I find this fragrance charming, luxuriant and unusually well priced for a niche fragrance.

I think the title may have mislead people looking for something in the vein of Ambre Sultan or Ambre Russe. This is nothing like those rich orientals.

Sure, I can picture an Anbar where the carnation was amped up to clove territory, more spices were added, a stronger amber note present in the base... but then it wouldn't be the refreshing citrus cologne it is.

Anbar starts out all sweet orange, mandarin and neroli, the carnation adding spice to the blend. Gradually the amber begins to take over, and after two to three hours this is a quiet ambery skin scent.

For a cologne, it has excellent longevity.

This is a warm fragrance rather than a cool aquatic, and I find it to be every bit as good in winter as in summer.

Searching for a myrrh fragrance, I was recommended Dyptique's L'Eau Trois.

It's really unfortunate that Dyptique has discontinued some of its best fragrances recently. I've only tried two of them - Opone, a great rose-saffron fragrance, and now L'Eau Trois, my holy grail myrrh fragrance. If they're any indication of the quality of this line, the fragrance world has indeed lost something special.

It would be wrong to classify L'Eau Trois as purely an incense fragrance. Myrrh is always the starring note, but this is a fragrance that is atypical of incense fragrance accords. Dyptique mentions Northern Greece is its description of this fragrance, and sure enough, it reminds me more of garrigue fragrances such as Fleurs de Sel and Eau d'Empire more than the likes of Avignon or most orientals.

The top notes arrive dry, woody, and almost medicinal; myrrh, as ever, to the fore. Thyme and rosemary are prominent, among the notes I can identify, and there is a salty tang in the top that L'Eau Trois shares with Fleurs de Sel.

I'm beginning to suspect thyme is the note that partially creates or at least modifies the "salty" quality I detect in both fragrances.

Through the heart oregano makes itself known, adding a slightly culinary twist, modified by what my nose perceives as pine, lavender and something civet-like ( which I don't see listed in either the official notes or any reviews, but I definitely smell something animalic here ).

Slowly the vegetal elements fade out one by one, leaving a warm, smoky ghost of myrrh on my skin.

Though this is EdT strength, it has EdC sillage. This is a quiet skin scent if ever there was one, and six sprays gives me decent but quite subtle sillage. Conversely, longevity is excellent, lasting well over twenty-four hours on me.

It would be interesting to see what a parfum extrait version of this would be like, though I'd be happy just to see the EdT back on the shelves again. I recently received a bottle of this from a fellow Basenoter, and I'm already eyeing the few sites that still sell it for back-up bottles.

To fans of myrrh and fans of garrigue-style fragrances, as well as fans of unusual fragrances in general, I highly recommend this.

I thought I was in love with the top notes... but after a minute it calmed down to a pleasant but somewhat flat oud and rose combo.

I'm underwhelmed, but this fragrance does have excellent longevity and sillage.

After several wearings I was impressed with Paestum Rose. It passed my tests of being neither too sweet, too soapy nor too powdery, and gave a fresh interpretation to an archetypal note.

PR is a dry, woody, interpretation of rose; a gradual transition from a pepper and oud top through a geranium and cedar heart to a vetiver and patchouli base. Rose is primary without ever dominating the blend. This is a soliflore in name only.

Unlike most others, I do not get the resinous medicinal note of myrrh that I know and love. Never mind; PR is none the poorer for its absence or my anosmia on that account, and the dry, smoky touch engendered by cedar is enough to balance the sweetness of the rose.

Though truly unisex, it strikes me as quite reserved and masculine - a business-man's rose. It's the polar opposite of lush, voluptuary interpretations of the flower like Lutens' Sa Majeste.

Excellent longevity; moderate sillage.

Highly recommended, especially for men seeking wearable rose fragrances.

Carnal Flower is a stunning fragrance, a picture of the living flower in olfactory form. Anyone who's smelled tuberose flowers in real life will recognize the scent immediately.

Fairly linear, I find this fragrance consists mostly of tuberose, jasmine, coconut and rich green notes.

The latter, often identified as wintergreen or eucalyptus, are what really make this fragrance special to me. They add green depth of realism, and a freshness that reminds me of taste of snow peas.

Carnal Flower has good sillage and moderate longevity, but honestly, it's totally out of my price range.

There's been a bit of debate among perfumistas as to how "unisex" this fragrance is.

It smells like a flower. If that's okay for you, then you should feel comfortable wearing it whatever your gender is, as it's not perfumey in a traditionally feminine way.

Cedre Sandaraque is a charming fragrance, the brother though not the twin to Bois Blond.

The cedar in the title is somewhat misleading. While there is an Atlas Cedar note in the base, I mostly pick up on the grassy and "pralined amber" notes.

I find Cedre Sandaraque's "pralined amber" note almost identical to Dzing!'s "cotton candy" note, though the two fragrances are quite different otherwise.

I mostly steer clear of gourmands, but Cedre Sandaraque is sweet and mellow without ever crossing the line into cloying.

Fairly low sillage, but decent longevity.

When I see all the excellent noses that have reviewed this positively, I have to wonder what I'm missing.

I smell a mild, pleasant musk surrounded by cheap synthetic florals. Neither bad nor good, inoffensive but totally uninspiring, it reminds me of a soap I used to use.

Blandness is hardly a crime, but I can't see myself buying this despite its good price.

I tried the EdT - perhaps the oil is better.

Smooth, urbane and pleasant, the only anarchist I find in L'Anarchiste is the name.

L'Anarchiste is a cool blend of mandarin and cedar, fading to a light musk. Though I'm sure others are present, the trio of mandarin, cedar and musk are only notes my nose notices.

This fades quite quickly only me, lasting three to five hours; I tend to use it mostly as a light cologne on warm days in summer.

The blast of the top notes in this fragrance is incredible - a rich and spicy hit of cinnamon, incense, tobacco, and most of all, CLOVE.

There is also a faint touch of something tart and fruity in the top notes, though this fragrance really isn't a gourmand aside from the spices.

After the first hour or so the spices fade and a rich tobacco fragrance takes hold, the incense and tobacco maintaining a duet through the drydown.

The base is ambery and faintly musky.

While this is a charming fragrance, it's somewhat "top-heavy" and the base bears little resemblance to revelatory top notes. After the first two hours I already found myself missing the cloves.

Intense clove fragrances are rare, but pleasant ambers are all too common. After five or six hours all of the uniqueness of Kretek is gone, though what remains is nice enough.

Kretek has moderate sillage, and like all the Ava Luxe's I've tried, good longevity.

Last winter I went through an iris jag and tried a couple dozen iris fragrances, so it takes something special to impress me in this category. Iris Taizo has done just that.

There are a variety of ways to interpret iris. I've seen it done wet, earthy, and rooty in [i]Iris Silver Mist[/i], soapy in [i]Iris Bleu Gris[/i], softly green in [i]Bois d'Iris[/i], tangy in [i]Iris 39[/i], and dry and powdery in [i]Boid d'Argent[/i]. Iris Taizo belongs to the last category - and is, as a matter of fact, strikingly similar to [i]Bois d'Argent[/i].

This is an interpretation that isn't powdery in the baby powder sense, but rather dry, and almost dusty. Anyone who's smelled orris powder knows the scent I'm speaking of.

Around this core is built a subtly nuanced blend of cedar, cardamon, honey and vanilla, the last two sweetening and otherwise woody blend.

This is labeled feminine here, but is totally unisex to my nose.

Excellent sillage, great longevity, and a fragrance that has taken its place - jointly, with Iris Silver Mist - as my favorite iris fragrance.

L'Ombre Fauve is a lush but light amber fragrance; a pleasing mixture of amber, sandalwood, vanilla, patchouli and musk.

While I appreciate the demure charm of the juice, I cannot say anything particularly grabs my attention or sets L'Ombre Fauve apart. Especially when compared to the more unique offerings from this house, I find this comparatively underwhelming.

For dry amber with sandalwood I'd recommend L'Air Du Desert Marocain; for a richer, sweeter amber Ambre Sultan. L'Ombre Fauve trails behind both in sillage and longevity.

Still, this is not a negative review. L'Ombre Fauve is a small fragrance with gentle charms, and does well within those parameters.

Razala is an intriguing multi-faceted fragrance. Though I seldom feel moved to wear it, it remains my favorite of the fragrances I've tried from this line, and is one of the most interesting niche orientals available.

Myrrh is the dominant note in the composition, but is modified by other ingredients at every stage. This isn't a myrrh "soliflore", to misuse a phrase.

The top notes burst out rich and spicy, with pepper, myrrh, oud sweetened by white florals - Ayala mentions magnolia and tuberose, I get mostly the latter - and neroli.

Something about this combination reminds me of a mulled wine I had years ago, made with port, spices, orange zest and raisins. Perhaps it's the oud, a note I often associate with fortified wine for some reason.

As the top notes fade, Razala becomes richer and the myrrh and oud stand out more as it moves from mulled wine to a mosque, and becomes predominantly an incense fragrance.

This is the first and only fragrance I've tried that contains real ambergris - I'm afraid most synthetic ambergris notes smell like soap on me - so I'm not sure of my nose's ability to detect it. There is a buttery warmth to the base.

Whether it's due to the ambergris or this being a base-heavy blend, Razala is a long-lasting fragrance, something unusual in all-natural blends. It has medium sillage but its longevity surpasses most fragrances, including the others in this line.

If you like myrrh and rich orientals, try this. You won't regret it.

Aquatics, on the whole, are a genre I avoid. My reaction to Oltre was all the more surprising given that fact.

I've lived by or near the sea for more of my life than not, on both of Canada's coasts and in the UK.

Oltre, to my nose, isn't the sea itself, but rather a cold, stormy day beside it. The aquatic note is rain-soaked rather than pure salt spray, and the botanical notes place its olfactory world firmly on terra firma.

It's a fairly linear fragrance, based on a quartet of the aquatic notes, pine, seaweed and muguet. It goes on cold and a fresh with the pine prominent and gradually softens and fades to allow the muguet to shyly peak through. This is never a floral fragrance though, and seaweed is always the biggest green note in the composition.

The sillage is good and the longevity is excellent. This lasts well over twenty-four hours on me.

Like some of the reviewers before me, I find the variety of interpretations as to just what this fragrance smells like are quite surprising.
Bearing in mind that I'm relatively new to the fragrance world and this is my first test of this fragrance, here is what my nose tells me.
Cuir Ottoman opens with a sweet, powdery, almost tangy violet note. This is probably caused by the orris, but the orris here is so strongly modified by the other florals as to send it directly into violet territory. The scent almost reminded me of Parma Violet candies, which were favorites of mine as a kid.
The leather entered fairly soon after the brightness of the top notes faded, but it's very soft. While related to the leather note in Tabac Blond - the closest as far as my nose has experienced - it's far, far more mellow than that leather or for that matter, any of the other leathers I've tried. If this was translated into leather, it would be sueded cotton. It is, however, a realistic leather note, especially as its presence becomes more noticeable in the dry down.
I didn't sense the other florals too strongly. I think I might have smelled a touch of rose, but no jasmine, despite it being listed.
The base notes came as a surprise to me.
I noticed two distinct base note sections. The first happened about five hours after I put it on, when the leather faded and the violet morphed into a recognizable orris note, that scent dominating for some time. After about two hours of this, the orris mellowed out, bringing forward the benzoin and balsam, a gentle vanillic quality initiating the second base section.
The smell at this point is almost gourmand; it reminded me of fresh-baked sugar cookies. There's a slight impression of almond, too; those who've experienced Farnesiana will find it in miniature here, hidden in the last phase of this fragrance.
The sillage and longevity are both great on my skin.
All in all, a lovely leather fragrance, though I hesitate to call it unisex and I'm pretty sure it's not for me.