Fragrance Reviews by rodent

Don't be fooled by the name -- this isn't a particularly aquatic scent. Instead, as several other reviewers have pointed out, it is quite green, synthetically spicy, and far too thin and sharp for its own good. And like far too many of Mr. Morillas' creations, it contains an annoying musk attack that whacks you over the head right from the initial blast and refuses to let go. Not only is this unpleasant, but it also screams cheap and comes across as something from a decade ago. The only thing it has going in its favor is that it's the only pseudo-aquatic scent that has (fairly successfully) managed to replicate the weird, astringent note of l'Eau d'Issey that is Issey's hallmark. You could do worse -- but when one has so many options, why settle for this?

Horrid sharp, thin, artificial juice that doesn't deserve the Fahrenheit brand (and in any case, could anyone come up with a smell that has *less* in common with Fahrenheit than this?) Awful nose-hair-singeing drugstore vanilla, mint and orange blossom blend that may be acceptable on dryer sheets, but nothing more. Certainly different... but once you've moved on from the intellectual appreciation that this is unique and that it performs superbly, you're hit by the inescapable reality of how truly vile this is.

This is the Francois Demachy who created Ungaro II? Did something kill his sense of smell along the way?

Quite unique modern fresh scent. Certainly retains elements of the original Kouros, but is a much closer cousin of the more dilute, contemporary Kouros Tattoo (i.e., a minty, citrus-y, ozonic and slightly ambery take on Kouros). While this still has the faintest whisper of nasty, it's fundamentally very clean-smelling and contemporary -- the civet is totally gone, the opening weirdness its of its granddaddy is gone, and the heavier heart and base notes (honey, clove, oakmoss, etc) are seriously toned down. However, the disappearance of the civet does make the musk attack a lot more apparent; this is one seriously musky scent, with a sharp edge that its close cousin Kouros Tattoo doesn't have. Theoretically an EDC, but powerful sillage and good longevity thanks to the musk. Very clever update of the original that sneakily abandons the macho late-70s baggage of its progenitor, while retaining its spirit. A slight dial-down of the musk would have made this one perfect. Nonetheless still very good and a wonderful and very distinctive summer juice.

Hmm - quite nice but not as good as Pure Coffee. Pure Malt, by comparison, is both lighter and heavier. In theory it's lighter in both its (boozy) opening, which is certainly thinner than the somewhat opaque wall of P.C. -- as well as in its closing, which hews closer to the original A*Men (sugary) rather than the bitter, creamy, patchouli-heavy and complicated close of PC.

But I define "light" and "heavy" based not only on technical attributes but also on the situations in which I can wear the scent. And it's here that PM ends up being heavier than PC because it's sweeter. For me, this really is a cool-weather scent. And, unlike PC, the boozy opening hangs around for a long time (compared to the somewhat volatile coffee notes of PC). The booze is also almost more cognac than whiskey; it's a rich, thick, woody, caramelly cognac note with maybe a hint of rhum. This is, by a considerable degree, the booziest scent I have ever worn -- others like Burberry London pale in comparison (and if you thought Escada PH had a cognac note, wait till you smell this one). It's the only one where I'd be afraid of someone thinking I'd been going heavy on the bottle, as the other notes are relatively sheer and play a definite second fiddle to the cognac.

The warning on the box not to drink the brew within proves to be quite prophetic - this one's almost too gourmand for its own good. Still, gets a thumbs up for originality and for being a sweet scent without resorting to vanilla and amber cliches. Keep at it, Mr. Huclier.

As others have noted, this fragrance from 1992 with its soul in 1985 really is astonishingly close (practically a copy) of Van Cleef's Tsar -- perhaps a tad mintier and a tad less smoky. The similarities in the branding (Arabian royalty vs Russian royalty) make the closeness even eerier. This is as close to Tsar as the Concorde is to the Tupolev TU-144 - the same basic ingredients and design, configured ever so slightly differently. And, again, the Soviets got there first.

Clayton nailed it; this really is a pile of fruity-ambery nonsense - the kind of stuff that is not in itself objectionable, but that is -- as a design statement -- lamentable once you appreciate how mechanical, cynical and uninspired this school of perfumery of the last decade is. Like its other synthetic robot-clone fruity-ambery brethren (Boss Selection, I'm looking at you), its nuclear-powered fruity-ambery heart beats insistently on for hours and hours, slowly deadening your sense of smell (and possibly your brain) with waves of harsh, thin, saccharine-sweet unpleasantness. Please don't compare this chemical munitions dump to a masterpiece like Brit, which actually shows bags of thoughtfulness and character. Ugh!

I'm getting really tired of these 200% synthetic olfactory-terrorism concoctions powered by the same sweet obnoxious wood-amber V8 engine that's found in almost every cheap EDT since the late nineties. Here is a prime example - and a positively nose-hair-singeing rendition at that. Superficially acceptable in the same way that bad pizza's superficially acceptable (after all, how bad can pizza possibly get) -- but please do everyone a favor and avoid this. There's a reason it's priced at less than $20 for 3oz, you know.

A very cheery, bright and pleasant take on the fougere genre. If you take out the strong powdery effect, you'll find that BBJ's lovely and quite heavy lavender accord isn't completely dissimilar from ancient classics like Jicky. With a touch of civet and a tad more aromatics, this could, frankly, have been released in the early part of the last century. Very nice but simply too powdery for a grown man to wear, IMO.

Versus -- in spite of having been released in 1991 - is a close cousin of other early 80s / late 70s "green", sharp coniferous brews with complicated floral hearts like Van Cleef and Oscar de la Renta PH. In other words, it espouses an aesthetic a decade earlier than its release date. Given this, is it hard to understand why it tanked? Death to synthpop - in with grunge, raves... and aquatics!

love at first sniff for me. this baby is actually quite original - anyone who says it smells like "any other fresh scent" is not paying close enough attention. the use of raspberry gives it a fruity touch that is quite unique (in the same way that pear in Dior's "Higher" was quite original), and the anise offers a very different cooling effect to the usual mint that one finds more commonly. the combination is clean, yet rich and quirky.

the light touch with the fruit notes makes this much more subtle than past Diesel male fragrances, which have either been cloyingly sweet (e.g. Green) or over-the-top gourmandy (zero plus, zero plus plus.)

so - i like it. give it a shot if you're willing to judge it on its own merits. if you're going to leap to judgements anyway because it's Diesel and therefore must be only for shallow skinny twenty-somethings, or if you thought that Dior's "higher" was a fresh scent like any other and didn't appreciate the pear - pass this one by.

Update 07/09: Hmm, my fondness for this frag has petered out after the first few months. It's still quite inventive, but I find it a bit overwhelmingly synthetic and harsh. And the sweetness -- while not excessive -- has the same dry high-pitched aggressiveness as other "young" sweet scents like Black XS or Zero Plus Plus. On balance, I'd say this is more of a cold-weather scent -- and you'd better like it, because it's so powerful that it'll be radiating its sweet fruity waves at you for hours.

Very nicely done - smells classy and distinctive. However, it's essentially Gucci's Rush (trust me on this one - the dry cedar dominant note is identical) with a touch of Varvatos-style gourmand sweetness. I actually prefer this to Rush, to be honest. As others have noted, however, longevity could be better. Still very good.

Offensively sharp, dry and strong mutant mix of radioactive strawberries, spices and amber. Acceptable in tiny doses and that's all that's needed -- a 1.7 oz will likely last you through your last dying days, and very possibly a nuclear winter as well. Pretty unmistakeable for anything else (sort of like an Ed Wood movie's unmistakeable for anything else.) Absolutely monster sillage (and in this case, it's a liability). The crystallized antithesis of good taste. Once smelled, never forgotten. Yikes!

Another relatively simple and classic aromatic citrus in the tradition of Monsieur de G; basically, lemon and vetiver, with a slight herbal twist. But the difference lies in the fairly strong dose of civet, which I'm surprised no one has commented on -- that salty, dirty note isn't so much the vetiver and herbs, it's our favorite butt-juice note! However, unlike Monsier de G, where it's very well-blended, here it's a bit on the strong side. And when YSL relaxes into its vetiver-heavy drydown, it combines with the civet to give it an old-person-body-odor, musty smell that isn't sexy -- it's just old and musty, similar to the effect created by Mouchoir de Monsieur. I've come to the conclusion that civet needs to be offset by punchy notes with bags of personality -- e.g., Kouros, Ungaro II -- to work. Otherwise, what you're left with is that musty, unappealing, stale smell. Better to go with something like Monsieur de Balmain, which has a richer, more sandlewood-heavy smell and no civet-induced mustiness. Oh, and like all of its cousins, YSL PH's sillage and longevity are poor... that is, unlike you like that musty old-man halo around you.

A very nice and classic chypre -- stylistically, very much in keeping with Chanel Pour Monsieur. As you'd expect with old-school frags that aren't stuffed to the gills with modern, synthetic molecules, longevity and sillage are both poor by modern standards. There's a tiny touch of civet that blooms fairly early and remains discreet.

Lemon, vetiver, and gauzy sandlewood. That about sums up MB. Although this is supposedly a reformulation, it still smells very retro to me -- the citrus burst is classic citrus from the 60s / 70s, i.e. in-your-face lemon rather than muted, blended bergamot (think YSL pour homme). Additionally, the vetiver heart gives this a grassy, woody, somewhat musty drydown that makes it flirt dangerously with "old man smell". If my brain cells and olfactory memory aren't failing me, I'm willing to bet MB was the inspiration behind the smell of Air France fresheners twenty years ago!

I find MB very natural-smelling and consequently very enjoyable, but it's definitely an acquired taste due to its simple structure and unabashedly retro bent (absolutely no fruity, gourmand-y, oriental, synthetic, or overly woody notes). And it doesn't last. So I tend to use this more as a post-shower summer "tonique" and when I just want to smell fresh in a natural way for a short period of time. Romantic this ain't. But if you're the type of guy who can still watch an old Hitchcock film without pining for fast-paced plots or special effects, there's a good chance you'll find something to like in MB since it's the perfume analog. Sometimes, the simple stuff's the best. A big thumbs up!

Simply put -- one of the ten best masculines I've smelled over the last five years. Power adroitly walks the masculine-floral tightrope with astounding subtlety and sureness of touch. It opens up with a gently spicy, rich, yet gently citrusy blast, but very quickly morphs to its floral heart. And while I can see why many people would see this as a feminine, here's the amazing thing: when you smell Power on a guy, you accept it. It seems right. There's just enough spice, edge, and darkly aquatic undertone to allow this to pass quite easily as a masculine. I'm surprised by those that find this sweet -- to my nose, this is a dry floral. Yes, it's rich, and it's floral, but it's not sweet, and it's very far away from Oriental territory. Another remarkable thing about Power: it has no sharp edges whatsoever. It's a rounded, cool, velvety blend that you could spend forever trying to pick apart. It's both strikingly original -- you will always recognize this scent; but it doesn't resort to heavy-handed, misguided one-upmanship to be original or innovative (l'Eau Bleue, Fahrenheit 32, anyone?) And while it doesn't really smell like Dior Homme, I, like others, immediately thought of DH when I smelt this -- their velvety, salty creaminess is strikingly similar, even if the details of the execution differ. The third remarkable thing about Power: it smells perpetually cool and moist, almost evoking fragrant rain. It is a wonderfully soothing and beautiful scent. And yet, in spite of being so rounded and gentle, sillage is excellent.

I find Power rich enough to work as a cold-weather scent, and fresh enough to work in warm weather, but I find that it's at its best in cool, moist weather. A slightly overcast sky... the air pregnant with cool moisture... a walk down mossy cobblestoned paths, and the wind rustling in the trees... and Power.

This is something special. Approach with an open mind and give it a chance.

Wow! Finally, a Mugler scent I can really love (still hate A*Men after having given it multiple chances, and B*Men is a tad too sharp, caramelly and spicy for me.) Ice*Men clearly preserves the soul of A*Men, but ratchets back the complexity / chaos, adds a wonderful, glacially cool front-end, and lets A*Men's unabashedly patchouli soul take center stage here. The result is a truly catchy, all-weather scent modern, that's modern, unique and very versatile - this could be both an office scent (but one that'll probably catch some attention) and a party / evening one -- and it plays well year-round. And, unlike so many "summer" remixes, it lasts! As for those that think that this is Angel with its soul sucked out -- yes, that's partially true, but many (including me) would applaud that. And finally, who'd have thunk that a juice that bears down so heavily on the patchouli could still be so contemporary? Well done, M. Huclier!

A fruity, admittedly well-blended juice that I find a lot less remarkable than everyone else seems to. Pleasant enough and OK, very impressive packaging, but a bit too fruity to be as formal a scent as everyone makes out. Mediocre longevity doesn't help its case. Overall, I'm not terribly impressed.

L'Instant is a triumph and an absolute classic. It is a real chameleon -- its opening is fairly crisp and classic, but it progressively mutates into a soft, moist gourmand within a couple of hours. And yet, unlike so many gourmands, it isn't gimmicky. It's able to pull this off by hedging its bets across a gigantic array of beautifully-blended ingredients without over-committing to any in particular. As others have pointed out, it could easily have been marketed as a unisex -- yet it easily wears a discreet masculinity thanks to the vetiver, patchouli, and astonishingly inventive anise, all of which give it a bitter chill. I think of this as a modern Habit Rouge: different from everything else, yet timeless. At a more mundane level, it's a gourmand for people who hate the brash, somewhat vulgar examples of the genre. Everything about this juice reeks of quality -- including the stately, heavy bottle. Superb!

A pleasant, rich, fresh oriental very reminiscent of Gucci's Envy and Kenzo's Jungle, with a dash of YSL's Opium PH thrown in. Nothing revolutionary and certainly not as confused as Luca Turin's over-the-top review puts it. Very polished without being amazing.

Nothing much to add; smells good (not as rich as Jicky, to my nose), the civet smells less powerful than, say, that in Kouros (which for me is the benchmark), but longevity is really dreadful -- I don't even get the two hours that other reviewers seem to. Not sure if this is due to the concentration of the perfume or because it's light on synthetics? At any rate, worth a try, but don't feel devastated if you can't track this down.

Wonderful-smelling but pointless flanker. Wonderful because, well, it's Rive Gauche. Pointless because it's just a slightly more dilute and less smoky version of the original -- but the differences are so slight as to be irrelevant for the most part. Still, a thumbs-up as it's RG, but there is very little reason to own this if you have access to the original.

Insanely rich, dense and complicated... a baroque juice out of place and out of time. Much has been made of JC Ellena's "First" for VC&A, and how he transitioned from a "maximalist" perfumer in the classic style (throw dozens of ingredients into a pot and make a rich stew) to a minimalist one. While this isn't a creation of JCE, it's basically the male analog - sharp, virulently powerful, and loaded to the gills with ingredients. Unlike other complicated brews like Kouros, which maintains a certain timeless freshness, this one reeks of the 70s with its insistent, pungent tendrils of sandalwood and patchouli, all held together by an evil, viscous castoreum. If there ever was a juice that was NOT made for direct spraying onto the body, this is it -- even the mist will stay with you for hours. Admirable complexity, shrieking sillage, but really so completely out of time that it's probably only appropriate for aging Greek millionaires and Arab sheikhs stuck in a time capsule.

Intensely sharp, minty, woody and very modern scent that is both different from anything else out there -- yet not so strikingly different that it really sticks in your memory. In spite of having just a touch of sweetness to it, Sander for Man is anything but creamy and cloying -- it is aggressively dry and has a sharpness to it that can stun your olfactory senses for a good fifteen minutes if you overspray and aren't careful. Sillage is outrageous - you can almost see the molecules radiating out and infiltrating your victims' lungs. I find it hard to place this one. Thanks to the mint it's a bit too cold for a snuggly scent (no warm, gourmand-y, or animalic vibes here) - yet a touch too spicy and powerful for office wear, although when I've used it it's mostly been for the latter purpose. Incredible value for money given the size of the bottle and the power of the juice -- but probably still a "try before you buy" scent. And don't get too trigger-happy with the spray button -- your friends will be in pain.

A really remarkable scent which -- like Acqua di Gio, another of Monsieur Cavallier's creations -- thoroughly deserves its success based purely on its own merits (OK, you can shoot me now). Consider the following:

- It is a citrus, yet it lasts forever (much like Boucheron PH). And this isn't a case of being able to last by standing on a non-citrusy drydown -- the drydown holds down its lemony anchor until its last dying breath. In warm / moderate weather it lasts upwards of 8 hours on me with a few very abbreviated sprays, and in cold weather, well north of 12 hours.

- It's a citrus that's different from all other citrii due to very distinct floral elements that make themselves known fairly quickly. So don't pay any attention to people that say that this is a citrus like any other -- it isn't. You will not confuse l'eau d'Issey for anything else. It's quirky, distinctive and imaginative. As a result, 15 years after its launch, it still smells thoroughly contemporary and sophisticated.

- The citrus smells rich and intensely natural... again, like Boucheron PH's. This is not the liquid carbon dioxide mojito that far too many modern aquatics smell like.

Smells great, smells fundamentally unlike anything else, and lasts forever. What more could one possibly want of a great scent? And why would one deprive oneself of the opportunity to wear it because "it's too popular"? Life's too short, my friends. An enduring classic -- and a classic for a reason.

Fantastically-blended, very subtle frag with slight oriental and ozonic leanings but never ends up firmly in any one camp. Fresh enough to be a warm-weather scent, and spicy enough to be a cold-weather scent -- yet adroitly avoids being a total spice bomb. As for the purported tea note -- I find it difficult to determine whether what we're smelling is truly tea, or a combination of spices that evokes tea through clever olfactory manipulation. Despite going fairly heavy on the cinammon -- an ingredient that is quite difficult to weave in without going overboard -- it never completely becomes an oriental because whatever vanilla that there is just whispers at you, and there's an interesting saltiness (probably caused by the pimento) to the mix that offsets the sweetness nicely. In fact, the entire experience is a chorus of whispers, and that's what makes it so different.

I don't get how people can dismiss this as just another mainstream frag - I can't think of anything that smells quite like this. And for the record, it is TOTALLY different from GPH 1 -- which is an admirable scent in its own right, but a bit of a one-trick pencil-shavings pony and in no way comparable to its little brother.

Having said all this, the opening is a tad bright, dry and strident -- much like Sander Man, which has a different makeup but a similar dry brightness, this juice can sizzle your nose-hairs and fry some nerve cells if you inhale too deeply. The upside is that sillage is outrageous, if that's what you are after.

BTW, you know what would make this one absolutely perfect -- a tiny dollop of meow-mix (civet). Rrrrrrrr.

What HDS1963 said. CPH is a depressingly two-dimensional frag -- it's all about lavender and vanilla. Unlike every other lavender frag I've tried, though, this isn't a blended lavender -- it's a "jus de lavande" concentrate that comes out of the bottle with a roar, completely and unapologetically unadulterated. The lavender smells startlingly natural - if you've ever broken lavender buds fresh off the bush, this is exactly what it smells like. Sadly, this natural purity is also its downfall -- it doesn't feel like a polished EDT, like Jicky, but some kind of simplistic brew that your great-great-grandma would store in a little clear unlabelled bottle with a stopper in her Victorian boudoir. The nauseatingly heavy vanilla soon takes over, leaving you with a crude, somewhat confused juice that can't decide if it wants to be a bracing, heavy floral or a baking additive. Wear this if you're a little old lady living in a time capsule in the Provence, or spray on your clothes (again, only if you're female) -- but hard to see any man in the 21st century really wearing this. Bizarre that this is still in production, but can't argue with the facts.

This is one ingredient list that actually looks accurate; the opening notes are almost all citrus, pear and basil. The combination of the latter two is astonishingly inventive -- it's very slightly sweet without being sweet in a gourmand sense, and pungent without being spicy in the conventional sense -- and really works. The scent goes through a fairly synthetic-smelling fresh phase before it winds down into its somewhat musky drydown -- which, incidentally, isn't terribly complex or exciting. But having said all this -- Higher really works. It comes across as a modern, fresh scent that fits squarely into the aquatic / fresh paradigm of the late 90s -- yet manages to smell quite different from anything else out there due to the pear and basil combo. Sillage is really excellent as it's quite a sharp juice. Great one for a 35 and under crowd -- a bit frisky for everyone else, but wearable.

More annoying artificial-smelling crispness overloaded with sharp musk from Alberto Morillas (see Oxygene from the same house and creator.) Terribly ho-hum and dull, with a mishmash of notes that have been processed into oblivion into a vaguely pleasant, inoffensive, but ultimately dull mixture. Buy it if you want a functional, crisp, musky scent, but not if you want to inspire or be inspired. I really struggle to find a reason to wear this when there are so many other pleasant, office-ready scents with a bit more individuality and inventiveness (e.g., Paul Smith Story, Bulgari PH.)

Ungaro I is undoubtedly a fine fragrance, but I have no difficulty seeing why it failed; it is simply too severe and foreboding a scent to have enjoyed anything remotely resembling commercial success. The wormwood's dark, dry and bitter severity recalls Caron's Yatagan -- hardly another juice for the masses -- while the potent combination of patchouli and sandlewood -- perhaps the friendlier part of the juice -- recalls Boss No. 1 (probably to a greater degree than most would admit). Personally, I find this simply too bone-dry and uncompromisingly dark a fragrance to be really enjoyable -- give me the rounded, velvety and civety lavender exuberance of Ungaro II any day. Further, it was completely out of time when it was launched -- and arguably would have been out of time even in the 80s. Only Tom Ford in a really bad mood might have come up with this and found a way to make it work. Nonetheless -- respect.

This is Boss's only really great scent, in my view. There was a time in the late 80s when this was _the_ defining scent in airport duty-free stores -- it is extremely powerful, and there is absolutely no mistaking it for anything else. Yes, it smells ever so slightly urinous, but I put that down to the warm honey note more than anything else; as lagloriacubana so aptly points out, it's the sandlewood and patchouli that really dominates, and it's the latter that makes this so potently "masculine". But unlike something like, say, Givenchy Gentleman, where the patchouli just grabs you by the balls and breathes down your back, here it is wonderfully woven into a cooling, slightly incensy, and ultimately quite unique texture. This won't win any prizes for subtlety, but it has bags of personality, is utterly unmistakeable for anything else, and actually smells really good if you're willing to keep an open mind (i.e., do a brain-wipe of 1) the aquatic olfactory conditioning we've all received over the past decade and 2) the notion that all Boss product sucks). Others must think so as well since it's been continuously in production since its launch.

For what it's worth, I actually think of this as being more 70s than 80s in spirit.

Smells startlingly like a lighter, slightly fresher version of Body Kouros -- and nothing like the regular Reaction. In itself a pleasant scent, but why not buy the original, which is already available at deeply discounted prices, and just spray a bit less?

GPH Blue Label is essentially a less charismatic, more mainstream and more synthetic-smelling take on Issey's marvellous Eau Bleue Fraiche, with mildly annoying fruity notes lurking in the background. But as always, the devil's in the details, and the startling crystalline clarity and quality of the Issey juice's notes that make it so distinctive is missing here, making this essentially another fairly uninspired modern aquatic. To be enthusiastically avoided if you own the Issey, and to be approached with caution if you own any decent aquatic and aren't a rabid fan of the genre.

Very strong and sharp 80s powerhouse. The opening is interesting and shares a certain Kouros vibe, as well as a sulphurous sharpness that seems to plague many other American budget juices -- it's a note I can easily recognize, but I don't know what it is. Because -- like Kouros -- the opening is so rich, it's fairly timeless. Unfortunately, the drydown is very 80s -- the stale cigarettes smell almost evokes images of a cheap, seedy bar with a stripper past her prime pulling down her red thong in front of me and a bunch of 40-something grizzly dudes in smelly leather jackets -- and is pretty much attributable to the combination of very powerful oakmoss and tobacco notes. The oakmoss alone ends up dating the juice. I like it, apart from the opening sharp "burnt" note, but it's too dated for regular wear. Nice for the occasional rainy day.

A fascinating, multi-faceted masterwork, Boucheron PH is a puzzling beast, and watching the reactions it elicits and trying to deconstruct them is fascinating. Is it really a "formal" scent for "over-40" people? Why?

Like many great scents, BPH is timeless. Its concentrated citrus blast is heavily reminiscent of other 60s and 70s citrus screamers like Monsieur Balmain and YSL Pour Home -- both in its philosophy and its execution, although the Boucheron's soapy verbana-laced tones distinguish it from its citrusy brethren. Its aromatic and woody progression is simply wonderful - a cool, velvety journey that just smells great. And it is VERY powerful. The EDP that I own requires only a couple of split-second sprays to make a difference -- and one that lasts the whole day. In spirit (and uncompromising quality level), BPH is almost more Chanel than recent Chanel scents.

I strongly suspect that it is BPH's classic construction, and its elegant, stodgy and almost architectural packaging, that cause most people to think of this as an older person's scent for formal occasions. But you'd be doing yourself a disservice if you pass this one by for those reasons. That said -- if you do like relentlessly modern fruity and gourmandy scents, move along, as this one is the antithesis of that category.

Another brilliant outing by Antoine Maisondieu for Burberry. Crisp, classic and timeless, yet with enough of an edge (the sweets and spices) to make it different. Like its twin brother London, doesn't really smell like anything else. Definitely warmer and sweeter than London though -- and while London sings to you in the velvety tones of a cello, Brit announces itself with the bright, upper-register voice of a violin. I could wear both forever. Absolutely love the bottle, too.

Somewhat faceless, fresh fruity-tobacco-y thing. I don't see any similarities to D&G PH other than the tobacco note lurking in the background. This one is far less citrusy, much sweeter, and there are many more notes fighting for attention.The bargain-basement prices for which this goes probably also reflects the budget that poor Antoine Maisondieu was likely given to compose this disappointing outing. If you're already a frag collector, you will smell the ghosts of many scents past in this -- yet no clear identity of its own. Pass.

Wow! Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. London is technically an oriental flirting with gourmand, but unlike most orientals, it can work in just about any kind of weather -- it's a "cool" oriental rather than a warm one, as it avoids the cinammon and vanilla overdose that renders most orientals cold-weather-scents only. I can't think of a single other thing that smells quite like this -- it's crisp, cool, woody, and rich all at once, and both modern and timeless. This one will not date with the passage of time. Simply brilliant and one of my top 10. Antoine Maisondieu -- I salute you.

This is a really nice modern EDT that avoids the synthetic, metallic head-hurting freshness of the last decade. Sadly, it isn't terribly original -- its bergamot-heavy crispness is heavily reminiscent of Aqua di Gio, which came out a decade earlier. Its slightly heavier on the floral and fruity elements though -- ever so slightly. The bottom line, though, is that in spite of the dreaded PH brand and an equally dreadful sprayer (that requires you to practically whack it with a hammer -- whereupon it sprays the juice all over like a garden hose), this smells really, really good. There's simply no arguing with that.

this is a really nice EDT that I suspect gets unfairly bashed just because it's an Armani (i.e., negative halo effect of the Aqua di Gio syndrome). First, the various comments about its similarities to B*Men are quite true - this is a cousin of B*Men. But like (almost) every instance when people say "if you have one don't bother owning the other", there are enough dissimilarities that this doesn't hold true. First off, I find Attitude to be so marvellously blended that unlike B*Men, this is not very obviously a gourmand. There is a hint of coffee, a bit of citrus, and a nice lavender (that B*Men doesn't have) that gives this a fantastically velvety, well-rounded, and sophisticated presence, while B*Men hits you like a hot pumpkin pie with an overdose of molasses and spice. This definitely lasts less long than B*Men, but in my view it's a far more sophisticated and balanced fragrance.

this understated but unforgettable creation from Paul Smith is a winner. it's a bit of a bitter bergamot bomb in the beginning -- i almost imagine i smell like an earl grey teabag -- but it gets progressively softer and even vaguely sweet as it progresses. it's fresh, but quite different from the metallic citrus snoozers that mostly make up this category. like the clothes of its designer, it occupies the space where good taste meets edgy. while it is not a sillage monster, staying power is very good - people could smell it on me six or so hours after application. original, yet discreet -- as well as modern and versatile, eminently suitable both for the office and evenings out. works well in both warm and cold weather. highly recommended!

The most interesting thing about Happy is its branding -- it's remarkable how many people have been convinced into actually feeling happy simply from spraying on what is essentially a remarkably simple sweet citrus juice. Maybe its the fundamentally unchallenging nature of Happy that makes people happy? Or is it the fact that it basically smells like frothy orange-flavored soda? Whatever - at a minimum, Happy is a milestone in perfume branding! The unfortunate thing about the juice itself is that its user-friendly, sweet citrusiness puts it dangerously close to being a cheap drugstore perfume worn by excited teenage girls. I am flabbergasted that someone like Chandler Burr ranks this as one of his favorites.

a truly extraordinary gourmand perfume - and this is coming from someone who generally does not like gourmands. the opening is citrusy (strongly so for a gourmand), floral, tropically fruity and quite sharp -- and as it dries down it gets progressively more gourdmandy and vanillac. the fragrance is extraordinarily complex, yet never overloaded or confused since it is so beautifully blended, and so it isn't as brash as, say, A*Men or Pi. it is subtle, yet makes a strong statement due to its uniqueness, fundamentally gourmand character, and almost feminine presence. the EDT lasts very long and sillage is outrageous. i only wish i had more occasions to wear this -- it is so rich and heady a concoction that wearing it to, say, the office would just be out of place -- and making it an everyday perfume would trivialize it and eventually numb your nostrils to its special power and grace. i wonder who was the perfumer? truly a virtuoso performance. wow.

ah, the mythical beast - kouros the korruptor.

this is a superb and unique fragrance that has taken a lot more flak than it deserves.

yes, it is strong.
yes, it is unique. and like all of the "80s powerhouse" scents it has a distinct identity. it is utterly different from other 80s powerhouse scents like Boss, Antaeus, Quorum, Obsession, etc.
yes, it has a distinct "animalic" and somewhat erotic character. this is entirely to the strong dose of civet - aka cat gonad extract (although produced synthetically these days)
and yes, in spite of this it does actually smell fresh in a very unique way all its own. no aquatic or ozonic cliches here.
and yes... i am afraid there are distinct similarities to the dreaded urinal cake smell. but you really need to get to a particular stage in the drydown to get this smell. the initial blast is strong, spicy and fresh; it is once this subsides and the civet note comes to the fore that the ammoniacal / fecal note gives it a touch of the "UC smell". for those of you who continue to resist this theory, sniff the sprayer of your Kouros bottle. the nozzle will have accumulated a lot of the oils resident in the solution - including the civet, which lingers long after the other ingredients have faded. now tell me this doesn't have an element of the UC smell. but it is not the _same_ as the UC smell.

however:
no, it does not smell like _piss_ and certainly not like semen(guilt by association? perhaps someone will suggest next that it smells like pubic hair?) but it does have a warm, sensual, vaguely fecal / body odor quality that is more erotic than disgusting.
no, it is not an "old man" scent. i am 36 and wear it fairly often without a twinge of self-consciousness. it has aged far better than many of its contemporaries. and as with so many scents that people love to pigeonhole -- if you wear anything with confidence and bend it to your persona, it will take on YOUR character rather than the other way round.

to those of you who are petrified of walking around smelling like a piss stall or a cat in heat - chill out. this is a unique, marvellous scent, and its outrageousness is wildly exaggerated. if you don't give this one a shot and take it for what it is, without preconceptions, you're denying yourself a wonderful olfactory pleasure.

i find that kouros wears equally well in both hot and cold weather.

congrats YSL on a daring and unique scent that is thoroughly deserving of its success.

this is by far the closest to the original Kouros of all the Kouros variants. so if you want to "work your way up" to the grandmaster, this is your ticket. however, what is missing -- either totally (my guess) or very substantially -- is the infamous civet note that gives the original Kouros its wonderfully vile fecal / body odor stink. for those of you who like Kouros primarily for this quality, you can pass this one on by. but since i like the actual fragrance of Kouros anyway and don't always want to progress into a body-odor bonanza, i like and wear this one.

Utterly pointless, sharp, sweet and nasty fougere-y synthetic swill. avoid.

i don't understand how people can compare this to Issey or ADG. Z is dry, a bit spicy and peppery, a bit on the synthetic side and not terribly aquatic -- certainly nothing like the elegant ambiguity of ADG or the intense, very organic citrus-floral blast of Issey. i find it - like Zegna's clothing - well put together, a bit formal, and in very good taste, but ultimately a bit uninspired; definitely appropriate for the office. i bought a bottle and am using it as my daily EDT while on business trips, but i certainly won't miss it when it's gone. staying power is so-so - slightly less than ADG and a LOT less than Issey.