Fragrance Reviews by foetidus

NOTES: Notes: Red pepper, Rose, Patchouli, Ciste Labdanum, Myrrh, Incense, Vanilla, Moss.

I don’t care for the opening – it’s too sweet and aimlessly abstract for me. Its lack of substance is my fault because I am anosmatic to red pepper, and the red pepper is probably cutting through and balancing the opening accord, but I’m missing it entirely. Within five minutes, though, I feel neutral about the fragrance: Enough of the sweet has gone away but what is left – a subdued rose, a non-descriptly mild patchouli, and some miscellaneous mild spice – is not yet exciting.

Then, somewhere between the beginning of the dull middle and the return of my attention to the fragrance, the resinous notes of the base begin to form and Eau d’Iparie has become much more interesting. The labdanum, myrrh, and incense are the true message of this fragrance, and the message is spoken sotto voce. I have always loved the resinousness of labdamun, incense, and myrrh and I own several fragrances where these earthy notes contribute their much of their full power. Even though Eau d'Iparie is very sheer, I truly enjoy the drydown. It is mildly resinous... discreet. It whispers deep tones, a slight moss, and a balanced sweetness. Eau d’Iparis has turned into a softly resinous skin scent that I very much enjoy.

Well described by Somerville MM and Asha. Fiore d'Ambra is a beautiful, soft vanillic / amber delicately combined with a gentle spice / incense. Doesn’t have much sillage, but does have good longevity. Translucent and not too sweet. A skin scent.

Nanette Lapore smells to me like lychee, which I’ve always thought smells like cheap perfume.

There you have it…

Eau Suave is not the type of fragrance that I appreciate, but, all things considered, it is impressive. It’s fresh, well balanced, has excellent longevity. It’s made of excellent quality materials, and is a bit edgy… a bit unusual with its touch of menthol… It’s a fruity / floral for a real grown-up. Its opening is cleanly aromatic with just a bit of spice – I even enjoy the saffron. I have to admit that I don’t smell the roses – there’s no rose note for me, but I do get the fruit, and I admire how pleasant the fruit notes are even though I don’t ordinarily care for fruit notes. The main aspect of the fragrance, though, is the aromatics: There’s a menthol-like note that is present from beginning to end. This aromatic note provides the clean, fresh feeling and tones done the sweetness of the fruit and, eventually, the vanilla. This is a refreshing, enjoyable feminine fragrance and the mythically connecting of this to Josephine is cute and charming.

I don’t get the usual explosion of olfactory dissonance that I get in many others of Villoresi’s fragrances. Alamut comes on quite normally to my nose. The opening is made to order for me because it is well done and contains many of my favorite notes: osmanthus, jasmine, and rosewood. It is not exciting, but it is rich and comforting. The middle is well done, too. Flowers (again, those I enjoy the most) and amber… these heart notes are also not exciting but offer another rich, long-lasting accord. Same story with the base, which has many of the traditional base notes… rich, but in no way exciting. This time there are a couple of notes I could do without: leather and powder, but their presence is not so much that I find them bothersome.

I would call this a comfort fragrance. It is traditional (or maybe even retro); it moves through the pyramid with finesse; it has moderate sillage and good longevity. It even has a refined touch of animalism with its indoles, musk, and leather. I like Alamut, but… it’s one of many among niches and designers, and there are several other Villoresi fragrances that I prefer. Nice one, though.

The opening bodes well for the fragrance… it is a smooth, sweet, and discreet wood / smoke / slightly spicy accord that presents a soft, resinous, masculine richness: Quite unique and highly attractive. The middle accord is loses the sweet and spice and stays as a dull, warm woodnote to my nose. I like this accord even though it is rather characterless, but there is not really a lot to say about it. The base becomes sweet ambery – almost gourmand, and I experience it as a significant change in the movement of the fragrance. I don’t mind this change, but I don’t applaud it, either… OK, I’ll admit that the sweetness was foreshadowed by the opening, but it was dropped in the heart notes and coming back makes it a little out of place. I feel that the scent, which was very good in the opening and heart, has lost direction and has taken an irksome detour: This is a bit sad because its initial direction had been so right! I’ll keep trying this scent – maybe I can get used to the base… the first movements are excellent.

A fruity white floral… Fortunately for my preferences, the fruity part takes a back seat in Rumeur – the fruit present themselves lightly and make way for the dominant white florals. But I’m not quite sure that understand the florals: Magnolia, rose, jasmine are all present to my nose, but I can’t tell how I am really responding to them: It’s a competent floral accord, but it seems characterless except for a touch of too much heaviness. It’s unquestionably pleasant accord in a generic sort of way, it’s just directionless, but that would be OK if there was more happening anyplace else in the fragrance… There isn’t… The drydown is just there filling a void with generic odor. This fragrance is not as bad as I’m making it sound, but I don’t know how to to make it sound any better.

There are two movements going on concurrently in the opening that make the opening quite an elegant and complex presentation: first the lavender / citrus combination which has been fairly typical of many fragrances; second, the nutmeg / sage combination whose juxtaposition with the lavender / citrus accord deeply enriches the total impact of the opening – it’s remarkably rich… and long lasting. The flow to the middle accord is so smooth that it’s hard pinpointing the transition. I know that I reach the middle accord when I realize I’m smelling florals – soft florals where the usual flowery emanations have been refined to a masculine floral texture. It’s sensual and elegant at the same time, and it, too, lasts. The base is a multi-noted accord typical of the times, but done even better than most. It is a well-refined amber, wood, musk and styrax accord… balanced, masculine, and as rich as the accords in the previous levels of the fragrance.

Sagamore is beautiful. It is one of the most tasteful and elegant of the deep, rich, woody masculine amber Orientals of its time. It is soft enough for it to be easily be worn today if applied lightly: A great one from the past that works in the present.

I wonder if Demeter is going to make an Osmanthus fragrance: I’m wanting to smell osmanthus again but I’m not having much luck with these fragrances named “Osmanthus.” In the osmanthus sense, Keiko Mecheri’s version is just so not right. The list of notes includes “datura” and “tuberose” but I don’t get any more of those than I get osmanthus. I get a fruity top that is somewhat tropical. I get a big stab of violet leaf green in the heart. There’s a drydown…?

I really, really would like to smell the tuberose… or the datura,,, or especially the osmanthus.

Chocolate, florals, a touch of spice, followed up by a woody drydown: I’ve been here before several times. The chocolate is well done, and the fragrance is put together very nicely, but I don’t find this particular chocolate fragrance very special. It is linear on my skin, and it has everything that the many other chocolate fragrances I’ve tested have… Rich chocolate, florals, spice, wood… but it’s missing a special point of interest, a unique take… The raw materials in Chocolat Amère are excellent: The balance, movement, sillage, and longevity are done very well. It wears well, too. But it really needs to be more than competent.

Not a bad scent, in fact I think it’s better than the non-suede version, which I did not like at all. It opens with a watered-down spicy accord that has some artificial ambiance, but it is refreshing even though it has neither citrus nor an abundance of aquatics. I don’t think that there is anything special about the accord – it grows more synthetic as it goes along, but it’s wearable and it has some longevity. Actually I feel that the opening and middle accords are one and the same and that could account for the longevity. With the base, the synthetics have come to dominate, but still, I don’t actively dislike it, but it isn’t at all interesting. The base is supposed to be quite woody but I don’t get much wood – or suede for that matter, just a rather boring neutrality.

The opening is a little bit unusual – especially for a Guerlain. It’s limy and smells somewhat tropical. I don’t get the rum that is supposed to be in the mix, but there is something in the lime-dominated opening that smells synthetic… even so, I rather enjoy it. As the lime dissipates, the bergamot and tea comes in and I pick up a faint reminder of Twinnings… but not for long. There quickly comes a neutral accord that smells abstract and synthetic and boring because there is nothing to reflect or support its neutrality. Nice base… cedar and vetiver; I don’t get the rhubarb. The base is alright except for its longevity, which is poor. My main criticism of the fragrance is that it is too all-around weak, but this is not an unusual circumstance for modern fragrances.

I don’t understand the number of negative votes on this fragrance. I, myself, think it’s pleasant and performs nicely except for its lack of longevity. It is a fragrance that handles hot, humid weather beautifully. I enjoy the lime note even though it’s not perfect. And it has a nice drydown. I’ve smelled a lot worse than this.

This is bright and shiny… morning sun rays bouncing off crystallized snow. The coniferous notes: fir, and pine are cool and invitingly clean and the whole opening sparkles with the light aromatics of cone trees. The tenor of the fragrance is light from top to bottom – even the incense is such a light, translucent note that it does not weigh Aqua Allegoria down one bit. The base’s soft wood and gingerbread note fit in very appropriately with the conifers and incense to form a delightfully smelling winter fragrance that removes itself completely from being the cliché it could easily have been.

Oh, yes… This one’s NICE! It immediately reminds me of Equipage, but this one has leather and a richer, fuller depth to its accords. The opening is a quiet lavender combined bergamot. But it has more of an almost leather depth to it – leather from the base, perhaps. I could sniff it for hours and the opening actually tries to oblige me with its longevity. I get mainly wood in the middle – cedar and sandalwood, judging from the era it was created, but the middle accord is too well blended to pick out very many individual notes – with the wood I detect a tiny bit of powder, and I’m sure the accord has jasmine in it, even though I can’t separate it out from the rest. The Base? Well, it’s the typical multi-noted base of the ‘70s, only done with more subtlety and refinement than most: Moss, leather, and a little bit of soft resin I can’t identify are what I can identify from the published pyramid basenotes. Gucci Pour Homme is the original Equipage (not the screechier current one) plus leather. Gucci’s accords are smoother and more sonorous – but similar. The added presence of leather and other smooth, deep richnesses provide a truly masculine, incredibly beautiful fragrance. Definitely one of the great ones…

Amber: Yes. Ylang Ylang: Barely.
On first spraying the notes come on strong. Then, quickly tempered, they enter a sort of abstractness of neutrality. If this was the intent of the perfumer, no wonder the ylang ylang flower was neutered: Ylang ylang makes a statement… this is no fragrance of or for statements. After the first three minutes, nothing in this fragrance is allowed to speak of itself: no individual voice… only a quietly mingled chorus of muted vibrations… very pretty, very nice, but still muted. Its lack of voice might be taken for subtlety, but I don't think so because it isn’t a subtle fragrance. Though the ylang ylang flower is not a wallflower, that’s its assigned position here in Amber Ylang Ylang. I would like to see some of the notes given their freedom here.

With a name like “The One,” I expect this to be the fragrance equivalent of Jet Li. It isn’t – it opens without inspiration… the citrus / herbal opening is a bit ordinary, slightly plastic, and quite discreet… but I sort of like it. The middle, too, is rather pleasant, perhaps because of its discretion, lightness, and balance. It, too, is slightly spicy but it adds a floral that the pyramid says is orange blossom… hard for me to tell. The base is a soft presentation of amber, tobacco, and musk – nicely done…

The One is an okay scent. Its attractiveness is in its soft, balanced sillage, its well-thought-out construction, and almost adequate longevity. It’s too young for me but I would imagine that it’s a nice fragrance for a young man.

Not your usual opening: pepper and a green nutmeg given a weird sort of buzz by hediones pretending to be jasmine… and yet it’s an enjoyable accord. Coming off the top notes to the heart notes, the lavender rather than the artemisia dominates the middle of the fragrance, which I find unfortunate. I was looking forward to the aromatic woodiness of artemisia and hoping it would overwhelm the lavender there… it didn’t. No wormwood, just lavender. I am forced to dismiss the middle accord. The base comes across weakly to me. I pick up leather and amber, and I might like it if I could smell it better… I can’t tell if the weakness is my problem or the fragance’s. I don’t get enough wood in the base to be sure that it’s there. In spite of my description, I think I will give this fragrance a bit of a break… It’s a skin scent that doesn’t happen to do anything for me, but I can recognize that it performs its skin-scent attributes quite well.

Not at all complicated, and charmingly unaffected… Czech and Speake’s Rose is a lovely feminine fragrance… as others have said, old-fashioned… simple… warm…

Smelling it brings to mind the appearance of those flowery greeting cards from the Victorian times: Idyllic and pretty.

I’m voting thumbs up because of the visual image of those greeting cards and the comforting innocence and loveliness of the fragrance.

I guess I’m joining the fan club here: This is a quiet and lovely lily of the valley scent… remarkable for it’s simplicity. It opens green – too green, but it doesn’t stay in greenness very long. It softly takes on the lily of the valley note, supported by an unaccustomedly quiet freesia in the background giving just the perfect complementary vibrations. From there Lily simply lets its beauty slowly wane and dissolve.

…A graceful feminine beauty with good sillage and longevity..

Rose, rose, rose, and rose: If you don’t love rose, don’t bother… If you love rose, Annick Goutal Rose Absolue presents the rose in the most elegant simplicity possible. It is totally beautiful and I love smelling this on women.

Quite delicate sillage but presents itself firmly when smelled close to the skin. Lasts forever…

The angelica rises off the skin immediately…

I have a love / dislike relationship with angelica, and here, it would be love, but this lovely version of it just doesn’t last long enough for me. The angelica disappears and the accord is immediately taken over by the musks, the rose, and the woods of the middle. I find the middle accord “pretty” at first but very quickly it becomes uninspired. It is also short lived and moves to the base too quickly. To my nose the tonka bean dominates the drydown and it is too sweet for my tastes. I get the white musks that are there, but I don’t get the labdanum, so, again, I am not impressed. On my skin Musc Nomade neither projects nor lasts.

Confession: Musks are not my favorites. Of the Les Orientalistes line I thoroughly enjoyed Encens Flamboyant and I purchased Myrrhe Ardente. To my tastes they are excellent scents that are true to their mission. Musc Nomade may very well be true to its mission, but I don’t find it very special, and its longevity is not at all good on my skin.

I’m afraid the too-fruity aspect of Ybris smells to me like canned fruit cocktail but without the metallic note. It’s that same sweet blahness that speaks of “all-fruit” in general, but none in particular. If I were to guess at one, I’d say “peach” but it’s only half-peach. It’s not a bad accord but it’s an uninspired one, and those who love fruity notes might validly enjoy it… but not I… it’s too fruity. There is supposed to be an amaretto note in the construction but I don’t really get it. I get a bit of alcohol in the fruit mix but not much. If I sniff deeply, I can smell a shadowy tea note and some oakmoss, but those notes (which I enjoy more than the fruit notes) never seem to pierce through the dominant fruit cocktail. I find no iris in the mix, which is too bad because a little iris sharpness and earthiness would make for a more interesting accord.

As it comes across to me, Ybris is not a very complex scent. I have no complaints about the quality of the materials, nor do I find the scent in any way bothersome. It’s a nice, well-made scent that has a modest sillage and good longevity, but it’s too fruity and characterless for me to enjoy.

While I don’t find the leather in Maxims pour Homme dislikeable (in fact, I enjoy it… just as I often enjoy mild leather notes in the older fragrances), the leather dominates my sense of smell over many of the other notes and accords of the fragrance. I can tell four minutes into the opening that this is about all this I am going to get from this fragrance: leather and the indoles from the heart jasmine. To me this is an extremely animalic fragrance. I don’t at all get any fruit note of any sort in the opening: I get a smooth, deep leather and a rather strong indole note from the jasmine… And “sweet”?… in no way does anything smell sweet. The leather and indoles override everything to my nose. No other florals than jasmine from the heart either. Occasionally throughout the long run of Maxims, I think that I can smell a bit of patchouli, then cedar, then amber… but they are gone so fast, I’m not sure I smelled them. I get no moss or musk. This is a linear leather fragrance with a strong jasmine indole note. I like it and I don’t say that often about a leather fragrance. Although I do enjoy it, eventually its linearity becomes more uninteresting than anything else. The age of my sample might also have something to do with the reduction of top and middle notes… Hard to tell…

A very light citrus opening – it’s lightness doesn’t hide the fact that the citrus has an artificial tinge to them… Not the best citrus opening I’ve experienced, by any means. Shortly – much too shortly – there is a movement to the middle level and the artificiality becomes stronger. The middle notes are supposed to be juniper and cinnamon, and I happy that they told me because I would not have been able to identify what I’m smelling without the hint: Neither one comes across clearly. For a base I get a weak cedar note, no sandalwood nor white musk, and what little sillage is there does not last very long, but it does hang on as a fresh and clean skin scent that holds to the skin for several hours. I don't find much to enjoy in Cedro...

Grès Pour Homme is an enjoyable citrus fragrance well presented in a ‘60s style. It is a complex citrus scent… the kind that we don’t see too often lately. Its complexity reminds me somewhat of the three Signoriccis by Nina Ricci because of the petitgrain in the opening. The petitgrain is unmistakable. The lavender in the opening also adds a feeling that makes the citrus accord broader than the typical citrus accord. The middle level is complex and primarily woody to my nose with its cedar, patchouli and with its touch of rosewood: This accord is very smoothly blended. Finally, the ‘60s are also represented in the base accord, with its long list of base elements. This blending, too, is smooth and seamless and keeps me from identifying most of the individual notes, although it seems more musky to me than anything else.

I’m not sure I would wear a scent like this anymore, but I do admire its character and I have enjoyed the trip down memory lane.

Hmmm… It’s not as bad as I thought it would be judging from the reviews, in fact it opens kind of interestingly – not pleasantly, but interestingly. I’m not even sure if I should call it synthetic… I think “abstract fruity” would be a better description. I do get the opening and the rest of the scent as sort of a melony aquatic, and I can see it as another Millesime Imperial copy, but at least this one has a tiny bit of originality. I can’t determine much of the base: mainly musk and suede… no wood. The base is too weak and short lasting, but that's pretty much the story for this kind of modern scent. I agree with Mario in that this doesn’t deserve a thumb’s down. I am neutral about it.

Uh-oh, fruity! The opening is quite fruity, but, surprisingly, I’m not as indifferent to it as as with other fruity opening accords. I guess, like most Patou fragrances I’ve tried, this one is done with discretion and elegance. No kidding… I actually sort of LIKE this fruity – floral opening. I did smell the banana at first, and the pear, but they were somehow muted… perhaps the cardamom. I didn’t smell the berries, and I usually love berry notes, so maybe they contributed a lot to my appreciation of the accord. More subtlety and sophistication in the heart: I can’t really identify much in the smooth floral heart accord except the jasmine (I never miss jasmine… my favorite) and milk note. I enjoy how jasmine and milk complement each other: they are both so richly middle tone in vibrational intensity. The middle is floral, I guess… it’s not flowery, and I have difficulty separating out the individual floral notes: It would be a good background for something more interesting taking place in the foreground, but I don’t think it holds up on its own. There is no bass or high vibrational level to balance the neutral middle. The scent has become a little too dull. The base doesn’t change the drabness. It’s a well-made base of good notes and it smells quite natural, but it needs a little more going on in the foreground.

I started out enjoying in spite of the fact that it’s another fruity – floral. The structure of the fragrance is impeccable, but it needs more drama, more counterpoint, more anything. I suppose it is a discreet, well-made, non-offending fragrance for the office, but I don’t see it very much more than that.

This review is of the original MEM Timberline:
I was quite surprised by the restrained, balanced, fresh feel of Timber Line when I first applied it: I was expecting something a little more blunt and odious and less refined. Timber Line is clean and refreshing – it opens with an herbal / lavender / citrus accord in which the only giveaway of its age is perhaps a little too much basil in the mixture. The middle level is signified by the disappearance of the basil and the soft rendition of a slightly floral, slightly spicy, geranium / coniferous accord. The middle level is proportioned and discreet. I don’t get much of a base at all – mostly musk and moss with a little sweetness: It’s a little too weak and short lasting for me, but it retains its pleasantness and discretion. Thumbs up for a decent ’68 fragrance and I just wasn’t expecting something as good as this.

I didn’t realize when I ordered the sample that this had a dominant violet in its structure. Had I known, I would have avoided reviewing this and saved my $3. The violet note fooled me for a while… I didn‘t quite recognize it as violet, but I did recognize that I didn’t like it. At least I hadn’t the urge to wash it off immediately – that urge came after fifteen minutes. I get a smokiness to the opening along with its violet, but I’m not sure if it’s my dislike of the violet or my distaste for the combination leaves me cold. The heart notes are floral with jasmine predominating – it’s also an adequate accord but nothing special. I find the drydown rather unique at first with its smoky cedar /amber ambiance, but even that doesn’t hold my interest for very long. In all, I just can’t find anything to enjoy in Gucci by Gucci, which is unusual for me because I tend to enjoy most of Gucci’s fragrances, shallow though they may be.

Quite a unique green note forms the opening: the mint and geranium give some extra punch to the green tea leaves, and it forms an accord that smells not only more than a little exotic, but also quite a bit synthetic… but it’s interesting and potentially enjoyable… This accord stays on for pretty much the run of the fragrance, and there doesn’t seem to be separate heart notes. The base is signified by the periodical wafts of the smoky woodnotes that finally add a certain depth and breadth to the unusual greenness of Nomad Tea. Nomad Tea is a tea scent but I don’t get enough “sweet” out of it to understand why it is in the “sweet” series. The sweet I do get seems combined with the smoke to give me a burnt sugar or caramel note. In all, it’s unusual but not impressive.

Uninspired, generic, synthetic… Fahrenheit 32 is a flanker that seems to have nothing in common with its namesake, except, I assume, that the “32” in the name is supposed to represent a cooled-down, fresher version of the original. In a sense 32 is fresh, but the opening freshness is backgrounded by an annoying vanilla note that removes any real sense of freshness from the olfactory picture. The “fresh” and artificial top notes meld into the generic mid notes – I do get a kind of orange-lifesaver type citrus from the heart notes, but I don’t get a recognizable vetiver because the vanilla gremlin is too active for me to smell through it. The dry down is a flat, characterless vanilla that, I’ll have to admit, is a little less annoying than the vanilla notes in the beginning.

I’ve nothing new to report. I’m in agreement with the majority of the reviews: Davidoff Adventure is generic, but pleasant; it is much too weak; it boasts poor sillage and incredibly poor longevity. I agree with Rcav that it is similar to the older Burberry London, but this one doesn’t bother me at all and the original BL does. Mate, pepper, a somewhat metallic vetiver, and white musk all watered down – that’s about it…

Not much of an adventure, is it?

Very nice… The strong bergamot opening already has elements of coriander and vetiver in the background… together they come across as a somewhat unique aromatic introduction. I’m more ambivalent than anyway else about it. I think its oft-mentioned licorice tinge rather reduces my pleasure in this version of vetiver. Yet, in spite of my minor annoyance with the opening, I find it impossible to dislike the accord. Givenchy Vetiver is well put together and presents such a skilled professional performance, I find myself respecting it even though I don’t thoroughly enjoy it, so I'm voting a non-enthusiastic thumbs up... Low key, unexciting, and completely respectable... it’s an excellent scent for someone who is not me.

The osmanthus is a remarkable flower. It is about a one-centimeter wide trumpet shaped white flower that grows on the dark green (usually trimmed) bushes -- often trimmed to become hedges. These hedges are planted abundantly in the parks, around the temples, and other planted areas in East Asian cities and countryside. The flowers are tiny but their scent output is huge. It’s near unbelievable how these tiny flowers can produce such massive scent. When the hedges are in full bloom, the wonderful odors permeate entire neighborhoods of the cities.

I was so looking forward to smelling osmanthus again since it’s been months since I was there walking among the hedges. I guess I have to keep waiting, because there’s not very much osmanthus in this Osmanthus; in fact, if I hadn’t seen the name, I never would have suspected it being here. This Osmanthus is a very nice, very safe woody / floral with some nice safe fruity notes to support the florals. The quality of materials used is excellent. The fragrance is nicely composed, but it lacks identity. It provides ambiance without direction. Its background aura reminds me more of other Ormande Jayne fragrances than it does of the wonderful aromas of osmanthus.

The first notes that I smell from Le Temps D’Une Fête are a strongly animalic green, and those notes hold for quite a long time – they are rich, unique, and viscerally rewarding. When the animalic notes finally subside, the heart notes provide a luscious green note – galbanum – coupled with the light, delicate notes of the spring flowers. It is such a creatively unusual progression and destination, and it is a typical genius performance of a Patricia de Nicolaï fragrance… The gentle lightness of the spring bulbs is a brilliant counterpoint to the rich, full, and earthy green accord, and both stand in comparative balance following the dense animalic overtones of the opening. Le Temps D’Une Fête has good sillage in the beginning that softens to a skin scent by the time the base is accomplished. It manages finesse and sensuality at once and has good longevity… a totally excellent fragrance.

The florals themselves do not come through very clearly for me; so, instead of a dominant flowery tuberose and jasmine, I am left with a rather strong indole note. It smells dirty – it even crosses over the thin line between floral and fecal. Usually the presence of a fecal note is not a negative with me, but the problem here is that it doesn’t come and go as a fecal note usually does in a fragrance… it stays as a continuing note and it gets overmuch. Judging from the other reviews, I’m not the only one who reacts negatively to Mimosa, but I’m not quite as turned off by it as some of the others seem to be. My greater criticism of with Mimosa is that I find it quite characterless. It is well made; it performs competently and lasts long enough, but its only real uniqueness or point of interest is a droning, shallow, near off-putting fecal note.

This responds on my skin as a lighter Black Aoud, and that is a very good thing to my way of thinking. I like Black Aoud, but it is too strong for my taste. The aromatic / aoud / saffron / rose opening in Dark Rose is has a definite edge to it but it is tolerable and highly wearable. It is a refined and elegant opening with enough aoud to provide a strong interest, but not enough to overwhelm. I have gotten habituated to aoud enough to enjoy this aoud level very much, and I especially enjoy the rather reduced strength of the rose – a note I am not in love with as a fragrance for me With most aoud scents, 85% of what I smell is aoud, but I find this lighter version of aoud (plus some other wood notes) at a perfect intensity and yet it interesting enough that I am completely satisfied with the note… I experience it as a comfortable and enjoyable wear.

Dark Rose is linear which is a very good thing in this case. It is long lasting, and it presents a moderate, engaging sillage. I could and probably will learn to love this scent because of its touch of the exotic, its somewhat subtle nature, and its excellent performance.

Bergamot, tangerine, coriander, cardamom, nutmeg, apple, pineapple, melon, violet, jasmine, lily of the valley, orange blossom, neroli, teak wood, cedar, vetiver, sandalwood, peach, tonka bean and musk: Almost every note known to man in the opening to provide an opening accord that smells pretty much like almost everything else from the ‘90s...

Whoops! Cross that out… it’s not from the ‘90s, it’s from 2007!

Well, anyway, it is synthetic, citrusy, spicy, fruity, flowery, musky and woody – and that about covers all the options, doesn’t it? And I thought these conglomerate formulas went out in the ‘90s…

But it’s ok… I see no reason to dislike it.

Green, woody, and sappy… Quite a natural opening that is not at all feminine. It is more like the cut stems of fresh greens: It’s clean and refreshing, but certainly not light. Too much violet for me in the middle notes, but these violet notes don’t disgust me as violet notes usually do, so that’s sort of a plus for me. Of course, when there are violets present, I can’t smell the other notes – in this case heliotrope and musk – in the heart. Nice base: coniferous and woody with a touch of sweet amber, but the over-lasting of the violet note reduces the experience.

I’m not too sure that this is a very original fragrance. It seems to me that I have experienced somewhat the same scent in several unisex fragrances – it just doesn’t seem very original to me. I think it’s an acceptable quality fragrance, well made with good ingredients. I love the sappy ambiance of the opening… the rest of She Wood is not very interesting to me, but I think those who like violet notes could possibly enjoy this one.

It’s an unusual accord that opens this fragrance. I think the combination of lime, conifer, and nutmeg is responsible for the disagreements about the similarities to other fragrances. This lime / conifer / and nutmeg accord doesn’t remind me of anything in particular, but there are several miscellaneous forgettable fragrances I’ve tested and immediately disliked. GIT… maybe… Aramis New West… a bit more than GIT. It certainly doesn’t remind me of Cool Water because I actually like Cool Water and I do not like this one. I just don’t care for the lime, nutmeg, and conifer combination in Stardust… It doesn’t sit right with me. I like Stardust a tiny bit better when it moves well into the heart notes where the jasmine and patchouli come together for a smooth, light woody accord – unfortunately I still smell the echoes of the aggressive, almost annoying opening accord from the beginning through the base.

A classic spicy floral that comes across to me as generic. L’Air du Temps one is centered on the “spiciness” of the carnation note. I don’t get the wood or fruit that are supposed to be involved in the opening; I get “carnation” and an ordinary jasmine. The middle goes more floral and begins to take on a rather powdery feel, the uninteresting jasmine remains strong to my nose, and there is a clove note in the background of the florals. The moss, wood, and amber come through for me in the base, and the base seems to me to be unclassically generic. I don’t think that the recent version of L’Air du Temps that I’m smelling now is the wonderful classic of all the positive reviews (Some of the appreciation of this scent seems more nostalgia than love for the fragrance.) Luca Turin gives the explanation of why this version isn’t as good as the vintage fragrance: restriction of an important ingredient. Unfortunately, this downward direction has likely hit more fragrances than this. It’s too bad that these reductions in quality happen, because I can see a very real potential in this fragrance… potential but not actual excellence with this present version.

Opens very differently from the other Bulgari tea scents: This one comes on strongly (for Bulgari) with a blatantly rustic black tea note – it has such a satisfyingly clean, near-visceral fermented tea character. As far as the pink pepper, Seville orange, or bergamot is concerned, they are either hidden in the black tea accord or they aren’t there… at any rate, I don’t get any citrus or pepper. The heart note tea is more settled… smoother… and I lose a little interest because it is turning out to be too much like other tea scents that I already own. Also there is a semi-fig character to the heart tea, and I don’t understand why, because I would prefer a tea note to the scent of fig. I don’t get a much of a drydown except for a nutty background note and a little musk that doesn’t seem to last very long. The drydown shows up very scant on my skin. Except for the tea note, I don't find much to love in this fragrance.

This is not a very complex scent. I get a rustic herbal accord in the opening – rough, soapy, probably a little arrogant… I get no citrus. The herbs quickly move into an herbal / almond accord that is pleasant. As the herbal notes disappear, the almond note becomes stronger and sweeter. I find Antico Caruso turns out to be almost a simple solo note fragrance: Almond, simple but quite enjoyable. I suppose that if the quality of the note is good, it doesn’t matter that the composition is uncomplicated. The lack of complexity works for me. The drydown is a plain, somewhat sweet almond note with a background of subtle but rich sandalwood. Both the almond note and the sandalwood note are of high quality, and I’m struck and surprised by the elegance of everything happening in Antico Caruso. It reeks of class and good breeding. …very good sillage and longevity.

It took a while to let the beauty of this fragrance enter into my way of thinking… The myrrh in Myrrhe Ardente’s opening is smooth and refined – it’s not a raw, visceral myrrh smelled directly, it’s a atmospheric myrrh – one that suggests the miscellaneous use of myrrh in the environment, not the close-up personal, intentional use of the “bitter perfume.” Although thoroughly a myrrh fragrance, the gaïac wood and beeswax of the heart notes come through well… I don’t get any vetiver. The myrrh of the base gets more resinous and stays resinous because the benzoin and tonka present their sweetness lightly and discreetly. But still even this “resinous” version of myrrh remains tame. This is an absolutely beautiful fragrance and a must buy for me. It is discreet and mysterious and elemental. I love what is not there… its lack of florals and its lack of sweetness and even its lack of the more visceral (I usually love visceral) aspects of this ancient perfume of mankind. This is a “background” scent that gives me a perfect level of performance just as it is.

I love the aggression of the opening – it smells of burning charcoal and the resinousness of the tree gum. To my nose the incense does not come across as an incense made for fragrances, but as more as an environmental incense. I get a definite burning note along with incense, which reminds me of the way incense is burned in the Middle East where the frankincense powder is sprinkled on glowing, smoldering charcoal. I don’t get any spices that are supposed to be in it – the resinous incense dominates too strongly to my nose. The dry down is superb: woody and churchy resinous. Encens Flamboyant is quite linear which makes it a winner from start to finish… I love it.

Ferré for Men seems to me to be a cheaper, more synthetic version of Dior Homme. The lipstick is prominent in the opening and it is immediately shadowed by an iris note in the background. There is a pineapple note in the mix, too, which is a small departure from DH. These notes do not come up to the quality of DH either in quality or the lasting ability of the notes. It gets a little floral in the heart notes – a mixed bouquet of smooth floral notes, and I think these florals are done quite nicely. The pyramid lists a lot of different notes for the drydown but I chiefly get a vetiver / oakmoss accord supported somewhat by tonka. Ferré for Men has a light sillage, a synthetic feel, and a nice development. It’s not greatly impressive, but it’s still a nice fragrance.

Another fresh, clear, somewhat synthetic fragrance… It is extremely light but, even so, it exhibits warmth and character. I find it enjoyable until the leathery drydown, but even the “leather” is not offensive enough for me to condemn the fragrance. I smell very little of the pepper note, but I do get the warmth of it. F by Ferragamo is okay – its combined freshness and warmth is enjoyable and its synthetics are highly wearable. It doesn’t have much of a sillage but, surprisingly, its longevity is good… Nice movement from the opening through the leather-like basenotes. On a better day I might say a thumb’s up.

I originally liked Kiton so well that I bought a bottle of it. After wearing it a while, it had grown to bother me so much that I finally had to wash it off immediately after applying. I later figured out that it was the violet note in the heart of Kiton that I could not tolerate – I had grown sensitive to chemical violets, and this dislike of violet extends to most fragrances with violet in it. Kiton, Green Irish Tweed, and Narciso Rodriguez for Him have so strong of violet notes that I dislike them strongly. Kiton was a good scent for awhile but now I have to vote it thumb's down... but only because of the violet. (Edit of 15 October 2006 review. Changed from a thumbs up.)

L’Eau par Kenzo comes on with a gentle sweet / sharp citric opening featuring a beautifully refined and clear yuzu and a soft slightly minty green note. It is delicate but quite sweet—a sweetness that fooled me because of the fragrance’s lack of strong notes. The lightness of the fragrance can be misleading. Over spraying can lead to becoming Mr. Cologne Guy just as much as over spraying more notorious fragrances. The fragrance is well constructed: The water pepper provides a water note and there are ozonic notes—more ozonics than watery notes, I would say, and those ozonics are kept from the all-too-common synthetic ambiance. The green notes are too sweet and unsharp for my taste, I would rather have some of that inherent bitterness that comes from leaves and stems. Until a half hour after application, the notes project a slight feminine feel because of the extra sweetness IMO. The dry down is green / aquatic combined with white musk. The dry down, too, continues the soft ambiance and lasts longer on my skin than many white musk accords that I’ve worn. The longevity is good for a citrus fragrance. L’Eau par Kenzo is a tiny bit Zen; it is genteel and calming. It works for hot summer days, but don’t let its seeming mildness fool you: it can cloy if too much is sprayed. (Edit of 28 October 2005 review. Changed from a thumb's up.)

This is a very sheer fragrance. The musk and the berries form one of those endearingly charming feminine diaphanousnesses that are delicacy personified. I almost didn’t test this because of the violent leaf note listed in the pyramid, but in Musc de Jave the violet note doesn’t cause me any negative reaction. The hay / honey accord is lovely and forms a fine refined texture that platforms the sweet berries and echoes the musk. The dry down is almost nonexistent. As usual, with a scent this delicate, the longevity is short enough to be a problem.

The aura, and even the notes to some extent, of this scent remind me of Hanae by Kieko Mecheri and Fraicheur Muskissime by Maitre Parfuneur et Gantier, both of which have much better longevity: They might be better alternatives for one who enjoys the transparent beauty of Musc de Java. Because of its beauty and delicacy I think “thumb’s up.” Because of its poor lasting power I think “neutral.” It’s a flip of the coin… (Edit of 23 May 2008 review.)

Garrigue is a very good scent and a refreshing change from the usual run of light summer fragrances. It opens with a bright sharp citrus accord—not exactly clean because the notes from the middle seem to rise up and dull the clarity of the citrus with a bit of herbal aromatics. This makes a more complex opening than a plain citrus would have and extends the opening into the herbaceous-wood base. Actually I think that there are only two stages to this fragrance—the citrus / herbal opening and the herbal / woody drydown: Both are very well done and each accord performs beautifully on the skin with its sillage and longevity. In spite of its performance on the skin and the attractive accords, it lacks that special something that separates it from being just another pleasant, well-made fragrance. I must repeat, though, that its performance on the skin throughout the day is admirable — I just wish the accords were more fetching to me. (Edit of 18 January 2007 review.)

I keep going back and forth about Platinum Egoïste. Some times I think it’s great, other times I don’t feel like having anything to do because it seems rather plastically gaudy. It IS fresh, lively, and unique. It opens with a whole load of aromatics: lavender, rosemary, spearmint, coriander, and sage. Doubling the effectiveness of the aromatics, and giving them a metallic edge, are loads of aldehydes. This accord is quite attention getting—it could be called sharp and boisterous, but it somehow manages to keep a tenuous grasp on Chanel elegance. The fragrance smoothes out with the floral middle notes by losing much of the aromatic sharpness. I find the middle notes rather… I might say “synthetic,” but “abstract” would be a much better word. At any rate it is a very nice accord—bright, energetic, and quasi-elegant. The dry down is a wood / oakmoss / vetiver—dominated by a cedar that continues it in the sharp motif of the top and mid notes, but increases the warmth of the fragrance a bit. Platinum Egoïste has a cedar-smoky background aura to it and the fragrance lasts hours and hours on my skin. I do see a sort of relationship between the original Egoïste and Platinum Egoïste in their structures: they both are extremely tightly constructed with creative, and progressively related movements between instinctively appropriate accords. However, to me, Platinum Egoïste is not worthy enough to be a flanker of Egoïste, but it is masculine, dynamically constructed, arguably elegant, and creatively unique. (Rewrite of 29 August 2006 review. Changed from thumb’s up.)

Notes: pepper, cedar, sandalwood, juniper, amber, musk

A startling opening of cedar and pepper—very aromatic, very dramatic, and quite dry… The aromatic accords of the opening are unique; they are exotic and warm and yet, very quickly they all come well within the parameters of wearablity. They are coniferous-woody and pepper-spicy and they are presented with flair and passion. The fragrance, though, doesn’t have very much sillage—it stays close to the skin providing an exotic cedary / juniper ambiance but for too short of time. Even though the fragrance appears to be constantly morphing into woody variations, it never seems to reach much of a sandalwood presence, and its amber also holds back, leaving it quite dry even in the dry down. Its main characteristic is that of a beautiful, resinous cedar that reminds me a bit of Sequoia by CdG, but Padparadscha is more challenging and, after the initial burst, less aggressive. Padparadscha is a unique unisex woody / spicy fragrance that is refreshingly exotic, surprisingly wearable, but could use much more longevity. (Rewrite of 24 April 2007 review.)

This one is really different—dry, resinous, and semi-sweet—an intriguing beginning. Then the beautiful spices and the delicate florals begin rising up into the accord while the resinous aromatics waft in and out. These second movements happen quite quickly and what remains is, not concreteness, but a string of wispy memory impressions. What is left is the smell of hay freshly cut in the field—drying but not lifeless... still warm with the waning life-force, decaying and sweetening in the Saharan sun...

Chergui attacks from all directions—it happens all at once, everywhere. It is a dance of a thousand wind devils—dust and odors and passing beauty twirl in the sun. Chergui has such a radiantly sunlit transparency. Most scents of mystery are dark — Chergui's mystery is eye-blinding. Here the enigma doesn’t lie in the shadows and closed air of a crypt; Here the mystery dances in the desiccating winds and the brilliant sunlight. (Edit of 12 May 2006 review.)

Musk and incense: Quite light and very simple, unvaried, and direct. Yawn. I’m thinking and thinking, but I’m not coming up with more to say about this. It’s musky with a bit of powder, and its incense is rather diminutive. It’s impossible to dislike this scent, but then, it seems like only a base or a background but it doesn’t have quite enough character to say that that drydown or background is catching or interesting. The name suggests that it is supposed to be mysterious, but "boring" does not conjure up mystery to me. Oh well, at least it's difficult to hate this one. (Edit of 31 August 2008 review.)

Eau de Patou (for Women) is an incredible fragrance. It opens with a light and delicate citrus with the elegant addition of petitgrain. It has a wonderfully refined and restrained floral middle—sophisticated and transparent. Add to this the classic, discreet base of moss and amber, which exhibits its close relationship to the two classic masculine Patou’s, and what it results in is one of the best designer fragrances I have ever encountered. I certainly can’t improve on calchic’s description of the scent and I agree with Griff that this wonderfully elegant fragrance is wearable by men: There are a few minutes when the middle notes seem to move a bit to the distaff side, but that is no threat against masculinity. The top and the dry down are wonderfully unisex. Excellent sillage and longevity. Eau de Patou is a peerless classic creation. (Edit of 09 December 2006 review.)

Borsari Acqua Classica de Parma is very much like a classic citrus splash in eau de parfum strength. It opening is composed of the typical citrus (lemon and orange) and herb (sage and thyme). The herbs are a bit earthier and less refreshing than the rosemary, basil, or mint versions that are a little more prevalent. The middle turns quite spicy with pepper predominating the accord; it has a weak geranium note in the background, and though it tends to get a bit spice – cabinet – spicy, it is rather pleasant although it isn’t anywhere near as interesting as the top or the base notes. The base has one of the few leathers I can enjoy, and it is beautifully accorded with the oakmoss and vetiver. In spite of Acqua Classica being a EDP, it is a pleasantly soft and light fragrance perfect for warm weather. I enjoy this version immensely, and it has the added value of possessing much more longevity than normal for cologne splashes because it is an EDP. It is an impressive, distinguished, and elegant fragrance and it has the added and always appreciated benefit of being affordable. (Edit of 28 August 2008 review.)

Top notes: Sambac Jasmine
Heart note: Cashmeran, Solar Note
Base note: White Amber

Lots of new words to learn from in this fragrance. As mentioned by other reviewers, Alien opens with a synthetic explosion of … synthetics: I’m sorry, I can’t identify any notes through the chemicals. The chemicals don’t last long and are quickly replaced by a sambac Jasmine and cashmeran accord. A “sambac jasmine” can be either an Arabian Jasmine or a Hawaiian Pikaki or any of a at least ten other varieties of jasmine: Madhan Mogran, Rose, Motiyu, Bela, Mallipoo, Lei pikaki, Tea, Gundi Mullige, Sampaguito, Mysore Mulli, or Mali Chat… I don’t know which particular jasmine is used in Alien, but, in general, the sambac jasmines have a greener element to their aroma. The Cashmeran, on the other hand is easier to describe: it’s the woody, musky, spicy 1,2,3,5,6,7-hexahydro-1,2,3,3-pentamethyl-4h-inden-4-one… The combination of the sambac jasmine and cashmeran accord is unique: It’s a woody, musky, spicy jasmine… quite attractive, too, IMHO. The center accord also presents Solar Note, which I Googled but couldn’t find any definitions, so I will assume that it is something that smells like the sun. Finally we have a drydown of white amber… now I’m familiar with white musk but I had to Google “White Amber” which turned out to be “a soft and subtle woody scent, and works primarily on the subconscious to elevate ones awareness and state of consciousness...” according to Google.

Apparently the scent is presented as having some sort of sub-conscious or mystical agenda, and the marketing includes some kind of wordplay on the word “alien.” I don’t know about that but I do like the fragrance. It’s attractive and it truly qualifies as an Oriental, I feel, and it does present the uniqueness for which it seems to be striving so hard. It smells quite feminine on paper or cloth, but on my skin it can easily pass as a masculine fragrance – in a sort of alien / masculine way, I find it mysteriously enjoyable.

Larger than life and grander than most of the rest… First is one of the best of those huge older fragrances that I love to find. I can believe that this is a Jean-Claude Elléna fragrance because of the super-clean, super-clear presentation of the individual notes – I’m guessing that in those days he kept his minimalism centered on the purity of the individual notes. The clarity of the notes and the purity of the combinations are quite remarkable in a scent with this much complexity and grandeur going for it… First opens with aldehydes, bergamot, blackcurrant, and jasmine, with an occasional soft, silky civet note. I’m so impressed by its balance – it’s hard taking my nose from it. The middle is a floral medley… jasmine, again, lily of the valley, a soft rose, and orris show themselves to my nose: the accord is lovely and soft and clear in spite of its abundance. The drydown is to die for: I get mainly sandalwood, vetiver and amber with a touch of honey and a bit of some kind of roughness that makes it perfect. It doesn’t seem too sweet; it doesn’t seem woody; it simply seems ethereal – if something with this potency can be ethereal.

What a refreshingly light version of cedar. The opening combination of cedar, grapefruit, and mint provides an effervescent citrus / cedar accord that smells almost sweet. Unfortunately, this enjoyable accord doesn’t last nearly as long as I would like. The middle of basil and cardamom slow down the effervescence but not the lightness – the scent remains subtle and clear. The base, too, is clean and discreet with the same soft cedar of the opening in a mix of white amber. I’m getting used to expecting these delightful and refreshing fragrances from this company, when I find another like Cédrat, I am not surprised at all… Excellent and uplifting. Short lived, but for a R & G cologne, that should be expected.

Another fruity - floral: not my favorite category so that should be taken into consideration. Enjoy opens more fruity than floral and there’s a somewhat synthetic feel to the pear and citrus that take prominence for a short time. But a few minutes into the opening, the accord becomes more true… more natural: The accord evens out with the florals establishing more of a presence than they had in the very beginning. The movement into the heart level is smooth and seamless. The middle is a beautifully mixed floral with rose and jasmine presented in a soft but solid accord: By now the fruity elements of the opening are gone and I can enjoy Enjoy. It takes a long time to get to the base – this is a substantial fragrance and it claims its own with no problem. The base is beautiful, too: patchouli for wood combined with musk, vanilla, and amber for sweet and breadth of olfactory emanation.

I like the floral heart the best, but even that seems to be missing the special greatness of the usual run of Patou fragrances. Enjoy is a beautifully competent fragrance, but it doesn’t rise above competence. I expect more from Patou, but, compared to most fragrances of this sort, and considering my usual standards, I have to admit it probably deserves a thumbs up. Strong fragrance… strong sillage… lasts forever.

Review of the reformulated “Pink Stuff”: The sage, basil, and laurel of the opening come across with enough aromatic panache to make it interesting – it is bright and lively and I appreciate the fact that the basil is pretty much held in check by the sage. But the accord turns a little off as it moves toward the middle notes where it takes on a heavier green persona – it gets weighed down. The galbanum gets to be dominant and stays that way. Except for the growing strength of the galbanum and the loss of the aromatics of the opening, I don’t find much change in the development. The dry down is a dry vetiver / patchouli, and it has a bit of an synthetic tinge to it… I don’t get cinnamon and I don’t get very much “sweet” so the whole drydown is pretty ho hum. The fragrance has light sillage and very good longevity.

Monsieur Rochas is not as bad as I was expecting (…pink and reformulated): The pink color had reduced my expectations a considerable degree. I don’t dislike Monsieur, but I think that after the interesting opening, there should have been a little more going on with the fragrance.

Yes, definitely a civilized vetiver – greenish lavender and a lightwood vetiver with the additional gentle green of cypress – all these green notes are presented with tasteful sillage and adequate longevity. The oak moss is smooth and retiring and I can’t smell the gaïac wood.

A gentleman’s fragrance: there’s nothing raw, nothing annoying, nothing visceral: It’s masculine and precise.

Good show, old man…

It’s hard for me to expect anything less than explosive olfactory aggression for something labeled “Joop!” But Joop! Rococo doesn’t take after its elders and it doesn’t explode. It is a relatively staid wood / pepper fragrance that delivers an enjoyable opening of balanced spices, a heart of quiet florals, and a base that's green and not-too-sweet, masculine woody base. The levels and the movement have presence and depth, but they are not overblown or overdone. Besides being agreeable, the notes strike me as being quite natural, they offer good sillage, and they present a very good longevity. Rococo is not exciting… its strength is its pleasing competence and wearability.

Citrus and green opening – quite sharp and not clear enough to be interesting. So I decide to wait… to pay attention to catch what it does as it develops. But it doesn’t really travel very far. The sharpness is reduced somewhat except for the violet note in the bouquet, but the fragrance retains its aggressive, sharp, unrefined character through its whole movement on my skin. The florals of the heart take over after the opening backs off a bit, but the fragrance hasn’t softened enough IMO. It never does soften to the point where I can respect it.

This doesn’t strike me as a very discriminating fragrance: it’s rather rough. The accords are sharply characterless.

Yes, I experience the similarity to Arabie, too… Aziyadé quite reminds me of the Lutens’ creation with its dried fruit / fruity ambiance. This, at first, is a softer, gentler version of Arabie (or if you prefer: a weakened, watered-down version.) I like this one very much… especially because of its richer resinous background that is not overwhelmed by the dried fruits as happens in Arabie. Although not quite Lutenesque, I see Aziyadé as real competition to my favorite Lutens creation. I get a souk-like spiciness in the heart level with the cinnamon and cumin taking the prominent position in the accord. The heart accord of Aziyadé is still backgrounded by the date note and I love that effect in both fragrances. For the drydown, Aziyadé then turns musky and patchouli / incensy, and this adds more breadth to the fragrance and is a departure from Arabie. I don’t find the incense very strong, but it is present just enough to move the fragrance into a different direction from where it started. Except for the toned-down fruit and dried fruit notes, I don’t get much sweet or vanilla out of it… I appreciate that. The one problem I find with Aziyadé is it’s longevity as a sillage producer. Although it lasts quite well as a beautiful skin scent, it seems to lose its sillage too soon. It’s a beautiful fragrance -- well-made, enjoyable, and an easier wear than Arabie. This just might be my chosen replacement when my Arabie runs out.

A lily fragrance that doesn’t respond well to my skin. The Casablanca lily, which smells enchanting on paper and on cloth, goes dusty, musty when it hits my skin – perhaps because of the spices. This staleness is not the normal experience I had with this flower. Because the lily is so prominent, there is no saving the fragrance for me – not even the jasmine or the “gold” build accords that can make up for the unattractive musty note that comes with the lily. The lily stays with the fragrance through the drydown, which doesn’t last long because I wash it off…

I was expecting to love this one because of the many approving reviews and the several references to Black Cashmere, which is one of three fragrances of which I own more than one bottle (just in case…). But… love for Chaos didn’t happen… neither did “like.” On my skin Chaos is radically different from BC, it is also radically different from its performance on paper or cloth, and the differences do not extend in a good direction for me.

With the reissued Chaos on my skin, the opening reminds me of the spicy, resinous Black Cashmere for all of three seconds, but then, where BC stays incency, woody, spicy, and resinous, Chaos loses the resinousness and goes dry-fruity with a dull spice in the mixture. I’m not particularly impressed by this version of dry fruits – it’s almost a heretical parody of the dried fruit accord that I find so appealing in Arabie. I find this accord a turn-off, and it seems to stay on with the fragrance for way too long of time. The soft, dry, and indistinct musky / woody drydown comes off as unimpressive as the opening and heart of Chaos. Unlike BC, Chaos doesn’t have strong sillage off my skin and it has poor longevity.

On paper I get a completely different fragrance. The opening is effervescent with more than a hint of a pleasant boozy rum note: That didn’t happen on my skin, and it’s actually quite a delightful accord. The paper Chaos settles down to a soft, translucent abstract and sophisticated fruity middle which holds for a longer time than I was expecting… finally to finish off on a very nice and very light dry musk / sandalwood accord. There is an extremely soft resinous background to the entire run of the fragrance. Neither on the paper nor on my skin does Chaos remind me of Black Cashmere.

I am continually impressed by the differences in performance of fragrances on paper and on the skin: Chaos is an excellent fragrance that just doesn’t like my skin chemistry.

I hesitated to get this one for testing because I do not like leather fragrances, but the other reviewers spoke more about woods than leather, so I guessed that this might be safe… It is.

It took me a while to smell the notes and accords in Cordovan. It’s not a strong fragrance, and what little I get from it smells more synthetic than anything else; however, it’s not an annoying synthetic note – it’s typical of the notes of several of the popular modern fragrances and I find it quite agreeable. The green of the opening and middle is seriously understated. I don’t actually smell the nutmeg that is supposed to be in the heart notes, but I do detect a warmth in the background that could very well be a soft nutmeg note. No discernible leather to me from the base, and the woods are very quiet. Like most skin scents, it has poor longevity. This is a pleasant skin scent and I like it enough to give it a hesitant thumbs up… Banana Republic does good stuff.

I enjoy this fragrance. It has a mild metallic tinge that seems as much herbal as it does metallic: I enjoy this metal ambiance better than I enjoy the metallic aura of Chrome. The sage provides that cool, rustic modern note that I like, but I don’t interpret it as “fresh”: It just seems to be a pleasantly mineral aroma. The ginger note does freshen the fragrance a bit., but it doesn’t seem like a generic fresh scent… Slate seems to have more going for it than the usual run of the mill. I don’t get much sweet in Slate; it simply stays herbal / metallic / mineral.

It is a well-made fragrance that offers something a little different, and I appreciate the difference. On my skin Slate is quite linear and its longevity could be improved somewhat, but I find it a discreet, enjoyable, and highly wearable fragrance – and, most importantly, something a little different from most of the current designer offerings.

When I first tested this on paper and on my skin, my reactions were very much in the positive sphere. I had written phrases like: “Delicate,” “…restrained spiciness and sweetness,” “…soft incense,” and “…transparent but rich notes.” Then came the wearing. About two hours into my first wearing I began to be annoyed by what I was smelling. The annoyance quickly changed into genuine dislike and I had experienced this dislike before from notes I recognized in YSL’s Nu, Tom Ford’s Black Orchid. It was that floral / vegetal note that, with continued exposure, tended to make me disgusted, and, as in the case of the two mentioned, I had to wash off Bois d’Argent immediately. I very seldom feel the need to remove a fragrance from my skin, but this was one of those few cases.

I get a highly aromatic, smoky opening — quite spicy — a clove / pine resin kind of spicy that probably comes from the pimiento berry or possibly the cascarilla bark. I really don’t get much of the peppery note that other reviewers mention. The opening is very warm — almost hot, which is something I didn’t expect from a tobacco fragrance. I can’t help but be impressed by this unexpected and dramatic opening. The clove / pimiento berry note gradually diminishes but that is one of the few changes I can find in the fragrance’s development. Then I get a vague, quiet moist tobacco note, but it’s not strong enough to really change the linear smoky direction of the fragrance. This progression is long lasting but eventually it settles down to a mellow wood accord that contains a moist tobacco background — reticent but enjoyable. I like this fragrance. I believe it is creatively designed and constructed with quality. Feuilles de Tabac is, though, an arguable fragrance — the kind of fragrance that the potential buyer should test quite thoroughly to be sure of a proper fit. (Edit of 03 April 2008 review.)

In all these years I never felt an impulse to test Chaps: My heroes have never been cowboys and I guess I thought this had nothing to offer for me… I finally took the plunge and I don’t mind saying that I was amazed at the first sniff. Granted, it’s old-fashioned, uber-masculine, cowboy iconic, and potent; but in my mind, there’s no doubt that it is a very good fragrance – smooth, balanced, rich, and comfortingly endearing. It isn’t complex: It doesn’t seem to have movements among levels of the scent pyramid. Its intricately massed combination stays solidly what it is, and that is an invitingly enjoyable masculine scent. I can’t really separate out the individual notes in the fragrance: It’s not constructed for that and its ingredients are likely not expensive enough to stand close analysis – but that doesn’t stop Chaps from being a satisfying scent. I don’t get sweet, and yet I don’t get dry. I don’t get more than a modicum of powder, and I don’t get “leather,” but it does seem leather-like so I can understand why other reviewers claim leather, but what I get is a well integrated floral / patchouli / mossy / ambery combination with just a touch of sweet – probably a honey-like note. I don’t apply it on cloth or any exposed skin… it’s too strong with that kind of application. I apply it on my chest and that method also increases its rather poor longevity. Chaps is a very good scent for the money… It’s just so danged masculinely fulfilling. (Edit of 06 August 2009 review.)

I get cumin in the opening in a balanced citrus-like / cumin accord that is different from anything else I’ve smelled before in fragrances: Strong cumin, no doubt, powerful and ingenious and more than a bit Gothic. I enjoy it now, but at first I did not really like the opening (or the fragrance, for that matter). Even when I thought that the accord was disgusting, I understood that, existentially speaking, my opinion of it was irrelevant. I don’t see Kingdom as a like - dislike fragrance; I see it as a statement, as a concept - idea fragrance. I very soon came to the realization that what I had just smelled was simply prelude to an olfactory creation whose primary purpose is to revolt, to disrupt complacency, and to flaunt a central digit into the face of the universe. The intent of the opening is ambush. This is certainly not an accident — it’s a challenge…a declaration — a rebellion.

The cumin provides heat: Not a thin, biting capsicum heat, but the lower keyed, full-bodied, stewing, festering heat of obsession and licentious passion: a subterranean, simmering, rapacious sultriness. This is no raging flame that destroys itself with its own exuberance; this is a street corner transactional heat that addresses the stewing of one’s own visceral juices and the gnawing of one’s own id. It stews, and gnaws, it languishes, and then it mutates. In the myths, the mutation is where the ugly duckling turns into the swan; where the Golden Fleece is gathered from the thorns, and where the rainbow glimmers and the birds sing. In Kingdom’s case, the dissipation, the lessening of the festering undercurrents — the mutation leads to…what?…a soft, underplayed rose / jasmine accord — anemic and totally out of predictable mythic character. If the scent were meant to be mythic, it would have blossomed into a full luxurious, pristine beauty — the myth fulfilled, again. That doesn’t happen. The myth turns into…Rosewater! Passion expended results in…err… very little: Why? Because it is the expending of the passion that is the meaning of the passion. Kingdom is not here to restate the old: It’s here to rebel, to overturn, and it is too soon to care about building new stories and expectations. Kingdom is hopelessly pessi-mythic. It languishes. It lethargizes in its floral and citrus ambivalence, always retaining the background heat as its real true eternal character: a steaming, unsatiated sensuality; and, as that, Kingdom continues on through its excellent but earthy…and its real…but fated… drydown — beautiful in its own way, but with no attempt at any sort of classic universal concept of beauty or sensuality or elegance... It is what it is, and the rebellion is enough...it has proven once again, its own existence… Kingdom is a truly revolutionary fragrance — one that flies in the face of tradition, prior knowledge, and comprehension. Long live the revolution! (Edit of 03 June 2006 review.)

Liaisons Dangereuses opens with an amiable fruit accord – a little exotic… somewhat fresh… a bit tropical… extremely smooth. The accord is beautifully balanced and refined, so much so that I can’t separate out the individual notes in the silkily smooth accord. I don’t get much of the cinnamon or the ambrette seeds that are listed: I mainly get peaches and cream with a touch of coconut for a slightly exotic touch in the fruity silkiness. I can't find the geranium, but it could easily be there doing its thing in the smooth matrix. The Damascus rose stays somewhat in the background, so the heart notes come off as a pleasant fruity / slightly rosy accord that has become a little strained… a little stretched because of lack of augmentation... but it remains an excellent accord that would be improved simply with a stronger rose note: I don’t often ask for a stronger rose note in a fragrance, but for this particular rose note I’m making an exception. The drydown essentially escapes me except for remaining as a soft skin scent that retains the creaminess of the opening, some of the rosiness of the heart notes, and adding the base’s offering of some moss, some vanilla, and more than some white musk. I don’t care for the drydown primarily because I am always unimpressed by white musk accords. The opening and heart of this fragrance are accords that I admire and would soon learn to love, but the white musk drydown is anti-climactic and comes near to negating the entire experience of the superb opening and heart. Reluctant thumbs up. (Edit of 30 April 2009 review)

Odd man out here, I guess. I like it but I can't make it all the way to love. In an olfactory lineup, I would identify it as Havana, Jr., judging from the top and middle. Quite an excellent opening with the bergamot, mandarin, lemon and lavender: it is complex, balanced, refined. The citrus is quickly lost and the middle becomes quite spicy with tarragon, cinnamon and carnation. This middle accord provides even more of the Havana connection, and while I prefer the better balance and refinement of Havana, I think Montana is just as complex and deserves all the praise it gets. My admiration deserts me when the base starts: There’s too much leather in Montana Parfum d’Homme for my tastes. In Havana, the leather is a cleaner version, but to my nose, in Montana the base gets thick, heavy, oily, and irritating. Reduce the leather and I would certainly own this one... It’s a respected fragrance here on Basenotes, but I just cannot find the love. (Edit of 18 March 2008 review.)

First a synthetic blast, then a sharp piney, spicy, minty, rum opening that could be considered quite pleasant except that it develops an off-putting synthetic tang. This is one of those massed accords where the components can’t be separated out but are blended into a dominant theme that is well described as “pleasant artificiality.” The middle is another conglomeration of green / spicy / floral—somewhat chaotic and not entirely unpleasant. The base is subdued and nondescript. Unfortunately, this is a headache producing synthetic exercise in “near enjoyability.” It is a scent that seems okay the first few times it is worn, but quickly becomes off-putting. It is not the worst fragrance around nor even the worst by Hugo Boss, but I can’t see it as anything but a thumbs down. (Edit of 10 October 2005 review.)

Another classic that deserves the label because of its groundbreaking status when it was introduced… White Linen is, in a way, remarkably modern considering its date of introduction. It’s labeled an aldehydic floral but I’m not sure that the name applies. While it does have aldehydes in abundance, it doesn’t smell flowery. Primarily what I get is that piercing soapy “texture” that is the hallmark of the fragrance’s reputation: something I would call “laundry redolence.” It’s a disguised white floral / amber / cedar texture that is attractive in the sense that it’s hard to get tired of it, and, while the fragrance is not actually “clean” in itself, it does remind me of an atmosphere of cleanliness. Later in the development I get a pleasant light rose note that is not at all obtrusive, although its softness does properly place the fragrance in the feminine ranks IMO. That rose note is the only floral note that I can pick out individually.

White Linen is one classic that really hasn’t traveled the path to obsolescence… that is… unless it is applied too liberally. It is entirely too strong if used with a heavy hand, but used lightly, it is fresh and charming. (Edit of 17 October 2008 review.)

Scotch and vetiver – these notes I love. Birch bark – this I don’t. I think it’s a shame that birch bark was included in this scent because I think the other notes in Fumidus are so outstanding: The Scotch and vetiver are strong enough to survive through the birch bark miasma… they exhibit the potential of forming an intriguing accord, but, alas, in the end they are undone by the presence of lesser than they. I love the smokiness and the intriguing combination of scotch and vetiver of the fragrance, and this would be a great fragrance if it weren’t for the birch. (Edit of 12 November 2008 review.)

An unusual one… so much in S-ex seems neutral to me: Neutrally sweet, neutrally aquatic, neutrally green, neutrally floral, neutrally musk, neutrally sensual, and neutral in its movement and progression. It has average sillage and longevity. Besides all that, it’s unisex. To give an idea of how neutral this scent seems to me, I usually dislike leather notes in fragrances but these leathers are neutral to me. I am unable to slap a descriptive label on to that neutrality except that it doen’t seem to be the well-known cardboard accord, nor is it a hairspray accord or a metallic accord. “Salty” is about as close as I can get, and yet it isn’t exactly salty. It does has a certain suggestive S-ex-ual innuendo that I find engaging but not vulgar or even obvious.

It’s interesting... but for me it doesn’t reach “intriguing.” I wouldn’t call it unpleasant. It is certainly unique. It’s not high on my list of future purchases, but I can understand why others enjoy it. ( Edit of the 12 November 2008 review.)

Imperial Bouquet presents a bright citrus opening that has a recognizable light fruity tinge to it. It’s a fairly unique and completely enjoyable experience to find an accord like this in a light summer cologne. It’s quite a bit different from the heavy fruitiness of the typical fruity EDT. The fruitiness doesn’t last long for me and I very soon pick up a green accord that is quite dry, which surprised me because I wasn’t expecting such a change, and I feel neutral about the accord. But it changes with the base: I enjoy the dry down very much; It’s a skin scent from which I can identify cedar, musk, and oakmoss… a classic accord done superbly well and with pretty good longevity for a cologne.

The first several times I tested Bouquet Imperial I disliked it immensely. I put my bottle away for a year and when I tested it again, I found this delightfully different cologne that performed so nicely. Go figure…

Love the opening… herbally aromatic with its lavender, rosemary, and peppermint. As the green herbs mellow, the lavenders grow stronger, but the accord remains variably balanced between the aromatic green herbs and the aromatic lavender herb. With its opening, Oxford and Cambridge has joined Royal Scottish Lavender and Gris Clair as only the third lavender fragrance that it is possible for me too love. This is the herbal, not the floral lavender version… it is aromatic, not creamy, and the use of the herbs – peppermint and rosemary – echo the lavender’s aromatic qualities. For a short time I’m in lavender heaven, but this particular heaven doesn’t last long enough. The aromatic herbalness lasts about an hour on my skin and I get very little more… The oakmoss appears intermittently in the top or the middle, but I don’t smell it in the base, nor do I smell the sandalwood of the base. Consequently the fragrance is finished in an hour and during that time it grew disappointingly weaker. This is a linear fragrance, which is a very good thing in this case, but its longevity is very poor.

I realize that this kind of traditional lavender fragrance is a fleeting experience, but I did expect more sillage and longevity for a fragrance of this price.

Cefiro has citrus predominant and it has a lot in common with many citrus predominant fragrances. The opening citrus is quite a clear and clean version; it has the characteristics of the better citrus openings except that it has managed to be precise and crystalline without being at all captivating. The same goes for the middle and the base notes – they are adequate and pleasant and they have nothing in them to make me want to continue sniffing. The middle simply becomes a duller version of top, and the base gets a bit confused: In the base I get a strong tea note with the remnants of the previous citruses, no musk and a very few slivers of woodnotes. The notes respond strongly when they eminate off paper or cloth, but they are rather weak coming off my skin. Even though it is an EDP, its longevity is not as good as I was expecting.

I wonder what the point of Cefiro is… It seems to me this fragrance would have been designed to achieve something a little more than competence. It is a very nice fragrance but it needs to be more special than it is… especially considering its price.

A classic… Chloe is quite floral. It opens with honeysuckle and lily of the valley most prominent in the floral accord. I get a little fruit a somewhat exotic coconut I think – but those two florals are very strong and dominant, and the fruit do not overwhelm the florals. Then it becomes a tuberose fragrance – strongly tuberose with some powder or amber at its edges. The tuberose is long, long lasting: It continues through the base, which adds some musk and some sandalwood to the still dominant tuberose accord. I was expecting another one of the overwhelming, take-no-prisoners classics, but Chloe is a lighter, more subtle fragrance than I thought it would be… Very nice.

It is so difficult for me to review these superb classic Chanel women’s fragrances – the No. 5’s, No. 19, Cristalle, Bois des Iles, Coco, and more. Although they are all different, I tend to take one sniff of any one of them and the only thing that pops into my mind is: “Perfect!” There’s not much more that I can say about it. Coco Mademoiselle is softer than Coco, and, like Coco… it’s perfect…

With the first spray I thought: ”Nice… a sheer and delicate green.” In about five minutes, though, the sheerness and subtlety had morphed into an aggressive full-blown neon-GREEN! of a scent that, while not disagreeable, was almost overpowering – those “wet greens” and geraniums were really doing their thing. It was a pleasant uber electric green but it seemed more of a caricature than a serious portrayal of the concept. I couldn’t identify the chocolate, but it could have been the chocolate that was forming some kind of alien bonding with the green to give birth to that accord. The green began losing its drama and tamed down to a dull but pleasant green – probably because of the influence of the lavender, and there it stayed until the middle florals began to exert themselves. The middle is a texturized floral with the lily of the valley tinged with green. Nice, not exciting, and a little too soft, but a very comfortable femine wear for the remainder of the heart notes. The dry down – a let down… Musk and amber in an uninspired but long-lasting accord.

I tend to like Covet. It does some interesting things and has nice a charming characteristic or two, but in the final consideration, it doesn’t do enough for a thumb’s up.

A lighter version of Samourai – quite true to the original. I like this one better because it is an easier wear. Samourai had a habit of getting cloying on me, and Samourai 47 doesn’t seem to have that problem. The notes here are quite subtle, but they are clear and non-synthetic. The opening is a well made citrus and fruit accord, the middle accord comes off as a very light cinnamon and jasmine to my nose; and for the base I get a short lived vanilla and cedar. Samourai 47 has longevity problems, and, when all is said and done, it is nicely made but quite ordinary.

I not sure about the sample I have… It doesn’t seem quite right and it’s even an official carded sample. The sample reminds me a lot of Yatagan, which I strongly dislike. It doesn’t remind me of 3rd Man or Santos, which are two of my favorites. Actually, my sample seems to be a sample gone horribly bad, but then, I think of my bottle of Yatagan as something gone horribly bad. I guess I need to find another source for a sample of this just to make sure… in the mean time I have to vote thumb’s down... That something in the top notes is just too annoying to me. It has a very good long, long lasting mossy / cedar drydown, though.

Speaking of barbershops, my particular olfactory memories of barbershops have to do with 3-in-1 Oil and electric-hairclipper-generated ozone and cheap talcum powder, so the supposed barbershop image of Canoe doesn’t mean a thing to me. Canoe reminds me only of Canoe… I began wearing it in 1968 and it, along with Eau Sauvage, a couple of Avons I purchased from my sister-in-law, a now and then splash of Old Spice after shave, were my fragrances for a decade. Canoe always predominated because I often couldn’t afford Eau Sauvage. Canoe begins with that opening blast that so many fragrances had back then, and many still have. Then the note that stands out the most to me is a soft, light lavender. The opening is a pleasant combination of lavender, lemon and sage – which, along with the geranium and carnation of the middle, are probably the accords that create the impression of barbershops. Today when I smell it, I don’t go all nostalgic, I simply wonder why I don’t wear it more often than I do. Canoe is nothing fantastic, but it has enjoyable, comfortable accords that move nicely from top to bottom of the pyramid, and that are fresh, clear, and natural smelling. Sprayed lightly, I don’t think it smells old fashioned even though it is often seen as a metaphor for past masculine grooming regimes. The geranium and carnation of the middle both smooth out the cedar and patchouli and lend more of a spicy than floral ambiance. The drydown is light, slightly sweet, and powdery with the powder and the oakmoss being the main cause of the accusation of old fashionedness. Canoe is a nice, inexpensive fragrance that delivers good value for those who enjoy the barbershop concept or just a plain, decent, excellently performing, inexpensive fragrance. I still keep a bottle around – not for nostalgia, but for wearing on those occasions when the mood strikes. (Edit of 20 December 2005 review.)

Amor Pour Homme strikes me as urban in nature and delivery. The pyramid says citrus and tea, and I get those but the accord has a slight metallic tinge to it. I rather like it — it’s a bit sharp and it has and attractiveness about it. I don’t get much spice, just tea, citrus, and a bit of metal in a nonaggressive accord. The mid notes don’t offer me any spice either, and no rose—I get green in the middle level but nothing floral. Up to this point, the scent is pretty linear: tea, fern, and metal… It’s enjoyable in an abstract urban way. The base brings on a refined vetiver note along with some sweeteners—probably tonka; I don’t get a rosewood note and I find the whole base accord mostly generic anonymity and quite light. There’s not a lot to intrigue me about this fragrance: It’s not very interesting, but it’s an acceptably good scent. It’s nicely assembled, and it doesn’t strike me as particularly synthetic until the end of the drydown when the metallic note becomes too pronounced; but even this is not unpleasant. Amor Pour Homme is substantially linear and it doesn’t last very long. I don’t understand the name, because it doesn’t seem sensual or romantic. I think that it would work best as a day scent. (Edit of 16 October 2007 review.)

The citrus opening is quite good but extremely short lasting. It disappears quickly because the allspice rising from the heart notes comes on strong very quickly into the opening. This allspice note is balanced with a nutmeg note in an accord that dominates most of the fragrance. It is an engaging accord — it could be looked at as either an extra aromatic nutmeg or a partially grounded cloves; whatever... the combination is addictive. The pepper also contributes to the aromatic abundance of the middle but in a more subtle way than the allspice of the top. The clary sage cools down the excess warmth of the allspice, nutmeg, and pepper, while at the same time, it builds further on to the enchanting spicy accord. The dry down could be stronger, I believe; it gets very close to the skin, and it is quite a smooth, woody accord — warm and a bit exotic. I’ve tested several of Comptoir Sud Pacifique fragrances, and this is by far my favorite: It is daring; it is refined; it is masculine; it is wearable. It could last longer but it is still a very good fragrance. (Edit of 23 October 2007 review.)

At first I experienced this as a fresh, enjoyable, well-balanced, classy fragrance. I was suspicious of my reaction because I recognized the strong oakmoss character of the fragrance and I usually don’t respond well to a dominant oakmoss. My suspicions came true with the third wearing: The oakmoss had grown so prominent in the drydown that it became annoying to me – and it has stayed that way. For me Duc de Vervins depends too much on oakmoss and it is not one I can enjoy personally; however, I do recognize it as a quality fragrance. For those who enjoy an excellent oakmoss fragrance, this is fresh, well-balanced, excellently put together, and it performs with sophistication.

Citrus, a bit of apple, a bit of carnation for spice, jasmine and lily of the valley background… nice opening but I smelled it before: Light Blue. I agree with takemyhusbandplz on this. The two fragrances are quite the identical especially in the top notes. Shanghai Butterfly moves toward lily of the valley and misses the green bamboo note that is in the heart of Light Blue, so there’s a variation there. The drydown has the biggest change: Shanghai Butterfly doesn’t last anywhere near as long. I voted Light Blue a thumb’s up but certainly not this one.

It could be that I have a bad sample, but this is not a very good scent that I am smelling. It smells highly synthetic for one thing: The citrus notes have thin, metallic nature that may or may not be intentional. The opening is already broadcasting the tonka from the base, and this vanillayzing of the fragrance dominates the beginning, continues into the middle floral accord, and stays through the drydown: This is not an enjoyable vanilla-sweet note to me and I don’t appreciate the linearity. The middle florals seem unbalanced by too much metallic sweetness – it’s not an accord that I appreciate. Sculpture is too synthetic and sweet and yet it comes across as being thin and insubstantial. It has good lasting power.

Hugo XY is one of the better Hugo Boss releases. It is light, mostly nonsynthetic, and pleasant. The fruit notes in the top are light and clean, and the herb notes in the middle level follow suit with a soft, fresh conciseness. The base has a clear cedar and patchouli that is comfortable and lasts well. I don’t smell any musk. XY is not a sensual or dramatic fragrance, but it is an enjoyable casual fragrance that is (to me) surprisingly well done: a very nice option for a young person.

I think the mint in combination with bergamot in the opening works much better than the more usual lavender to provide an interesting and enjoyable introduction to Roadster. And I enjoy this particular mint note: It is not the usual “minty fresh” concept… this mint is darker and going on bitter and sets a mature stabilizing tone to the fragrance. The light shadowing of labdanum and patchouli from the base also contributes to that mood. The middle accord continues the deeper, darker mint motif and adds an ozone note that is at first seems out of place but soon morphs into an interesting accord. The dry down is a rich wood / labdanum accord with a touch of vanilla. The wood is an almost aromatic cashmere wood enhanced and supported by patchouli, labdanum, and cistus... it moves the fragrance into the "elegant" territory..

I enjoy most of Cartier’s fragrances and this one is no exception. Except for Declaration, this is possibly the edgiest of their offerings. My initial opinion of Roadster had me thinking that it was too thin and sparse for my tastes. With each new test, I’ve learned more about it, and I’ve further improved my opinion of it. It wears subtly and competently on my skin and presents a light overall smokiness that I find inviting. This is a possible purchase for me – I will keep testing it and it just may end up as the fourth Cartier in my collection.

Pepper and star fruit – love that light, fruity, watery star fruit note – but to my nose the pepper dominates the opening accord. It’s a uniquely fresh accord and its enjoyable having a summery fragrance without the ubiquitous citrus notes... I love citrus accords, but at times I think they are overdone. I’ve often wondered why the fresh, light-fruity smell of the star fruit wasn’t used in fragrances. For the middle notes they are playing games with the names: “acetyver”… okay… what does that mean? …Acetone vetiver? I smell very little vetiver but I’m happy I don’t get any acetone. In spite of the name game, the middle is very pleasant with the aquatic and green notes. It’s refreshing in a bit different way from the opening refreshment. The base is rather ordinary, but still attractive. The cedar (they are using cedar in so many fragrances, now) dominates and the base is at first rather sweet and then turns into a cedar / woody accord that develops almost an incense or smoke persona. I hadn’t heard much about this on the boards, but I think it should get more discussion… I am personally pleased that they seriously lowered the nutmeg volume in this one. Bright Visit a pretty darn good fresh summer scent.

No, not even a contender. Bogart, who makes several excellent, lower-priced fragrances, didn’t continue the winning streak with this one. The top and mid notes of Bogart pour Homme are generic and boring. Its base depends too much on an inferior vanilla note that is present from opening to closing – the same inferior vanilla note that is present in all too many of the cheaper ’90s fragrances. Since this is a 2004 product, it was already out of date before it was placed on the market. It’s a linear fragrance; it has a strong sillage; and it has good longevity. It is too bad that it boasts such poor aromas…

It opens with a somewhat fresh citrus and anise (mercifully light on the synthetic anise) accord. The opening presents something interesting at first… it’s a little different and quite pleasant… until it begins to get a rather strong synthetic feel to it. Then I think that it becomes another one of the dozens of tedious synthetic openings. As usual, the lavender in the citrus / sweet spicy accord interferes with my appreciation of it – It’s ok, but I just don’t care very much for the combination and would like it better sans lavender. The mid accord is mainly a sweet floral extension of the opening... Again, I feel neutral about it. The ambry base improves the movement of the fragrance somewhat, but doesn’t offer much longevity on my skin. The base is the element of the fragrance that I prefer the most… it has a little more substance to it via the wood, even though it is similar to the accords that preceded it.

Diesel Fuel for Life comes across to me as pretty much a repeat of several other sweet, fruity fragrances out there. It is not unique, but it has some good points to it and should be tested out by a person who likes fruity-sweet fragrances.

The opening presents a straightforward jasmine note with a strong green element in the mix. As the green element softens, the jasmine note, though not light and delicate, comes across as curiously devoid of its indolic potential. Jasmine is my favorite floral note, and I love those strong, indolic versions, but here I’m hard pressed to understand the reason floral note has been neutered without having been made sheer and subtle. It’s as if the jasmine has been robbed of both her sensuality and her soul. However, the question concerning the eunuch jasmine’s soullessness doesn’t last long because the jasmine note disappears quickly. What remains is an unexciting white musk to finish the endnotes.

The sillage produced by Night Scented Jasmine does present the more sheer version of the flower. This wispiness is attractive but I’m not sure that it is enough to save the fragrance from such a serious case of lack of inspiration. There are better jasmine fragrances available.

Mandarina Duck’s Rouge Intense opens woodsy with lots of pepper – seems more masculine or unisex because none of the florals come through for me, and when the florals do enter a bit later in the heart notes, they stay far in the background to the woods and the plethoric pepper. There seems to be no change through the entire run of the fragrance. It’s obviously linear and long lasting and comprehensively, everlastingly peppery! Errrr… if you love pepper, this one’s for you.

Lancetti Madame is a quite simple rose, iris, and patchouli fragrance. It strikes me as being too direct and straightforward. Both the rose and patchouli are dulled down to the point where I find them not only flat, but a bit off – the rose note especially seems off. It’s quite linear, and I believe that it has good longevity – I’m not sure because I was so bored with it that I kept forgetting to pay attention to its progression. The ending sharpens the rose note a little.

I don’t care for this one at all.

The litany applies: Synthetic, generic, unoffending, unexciting, copycat, too weak, too short-lived, too expensive, bland…

What DIAMONDS is, is a sweet, youthful, generic, expensive, synthetic, unoffending fragrance… just like scores of others, and quite a bit like most of the other Armani fragrances. Nothing unique. Nothing to get excited about…

I probably am being too hard on this particular fragrance, but the marketing division asked for my disdain… They are the ones that named it “DIAMONDS”…

…ALL CAPS, no less. That’s just going too far.

There is more than pine going on here… it’s so aromatic that it seems like unrefined eucalyptus and raw menthol with a little pine branch thrown in. It’s a heavy, heady version of the pine accord, and it doesn’t work for me at all… They say, “pine,” I say, “super-concentrated Pinesol.” Untenable…

The description on the Madini website is “notes resinous and sweet…” and that is a good description. There’s a playfully sweet resinousness to the fragrance: It presents a sweet, almost gourmand amber in an effervescent, near root beer accord. It’s quite delightful and, on my skin, quite feminine, and it has strong sillage and excellent longevity… It ends with a nice, soft musk note, but I think that it should have been named “Amber Pierre”… or, better yet, “Amber Charlotte.”

The first time I tested this, only the resins – none of the sweet or softness – came through for me. I got “deep,” “resinous,” and “musky.” With subsequent testings, the resinousness has diminished a bit and some of the softness has come to the fore, but I still get very little “sweet.” The florals are serious – almost Gothic – to my nose and have difficulty escaping from my skin, but they do contribute smoothness to the resinous incense and the lusty musk. This is one serious collection of dark florals, resins, and musks, that ends up a rich and full musk: “Smooth” I would go along with, but I still wouldn’t call it “soft.” Musk Gazelle is genuinely unisex (at least on my skin) with strong sillage and great longevity. I love it.

Incense? I’ve never thought of incense as smelling like this… It opens with a blast of strong, sort of plastically iodine note– it’s not at all attractive, and (unfortunately in this instance) like many Madini fragrances, it seems to be very strong, linear, and long lasting. It does soften a bit, but it never loses its annoying plastic tinge. After my first trial of this, I have never been able to keep it on my skin more that fifteen minutes. I do not like this one.

Beautiful musky scent… soft and feminine. Musk with a touch of citrus and vanilla. The drydown has a prominent woodnote – patchouli, I think. Very pretty fragrance with light sillage and excellent longevity…

The naming of perfumes (or anything else) is interesting but tricky when the passage of time is considered: I remember my twenty-year-old sister wearing Youth Dew in the early ‘50s. Then “Youth Dew” was an appropriate name for the fragrance worn by my beautiful sister. The name doesn’t fit now days because changing fashion is the one constant in fashion. I don’t want to call this “dated” although I don’t have a problem with that particular vocabulary word, but I do get ‘50s images in my mind in conjunction with the aroma of Youth Dew. It opens citrus and then very quickly moves to a spicy floral – cinnamon, clove, and ylang-ylang prominent with strong indolic colorings. But as soon as the heart notes show up, they are shadowed by the ‘50s vibrations from the base – the ‘50s version of patchouli and balsam, I believe. The heart and base fix the fragrance at a point in time, and I can do little more with this fragrance because it is has become more of a memory rather than a present reality. In trying to be objective, I would say that I like Youth Dew, but there are several others of its era and type that I prefer, because Youth Dew doesn’t seem to have very much uniqueness in its composition or delivery. Thumb’s up for the memory, but neutral for the actual fragrance.

A very nice citrus / green fragrance. I agree with those who say Aqua is not very aquatic. It doesn’t have very much of that ozone or marine aspect that most of the other aquatics exhibit. It’s a clean, pleasant, light fragrance with stronger sillage and longevity than most of its genre. The fragrance is sweet, balanced, and nicely put together, but it doesn’t have much drama or passion. It’s an easy wear.

Strong and gaudy. Giorgio makes the most of the potency of the fruity / white floral category. It’s a massive grouping of peachy / apricot sweet fruit notes with the usual white florals: orange blossom, ylang-ylang, tuberose, gardenia, and jasmine. It is flamboyant, indole laden and non-synthetic. Except for its potency, it is predictable in its construction, it sends out massive amounts of sillage, and lasts forever. The drydown still retains much of the peachy / white floral from the top and heart, so Giorgio is also linear… Oh, and it has given me a headache once when I purposely over sprayed it. It can be a fairly nice fragrance, but only if it is applied with extreme discretion. It is lethal unless an absolute minimum is applied.

Extremely sweet but a nice fragrance: The anise is dominant to my nose, but it is tempered by the cloves and mint so that it doesn’t deliver that piercing anise note that is so prevalent in several recent fragrances – I rather like this version of anise. Tvlampboy is right about the tenacity of the anise note… it hangs on seemingly forever, so permanently present that I determine only minimal differences between the opening, middle, and base of the fragrance. On my skin the fragrance is linear, but it is a nice linearity.

I agree that Ghost Man is a better version of Le Male. Though sweeter than Le Male, the powder is gone, making this less dated and more wearable. Neither one is my kind of fragrance, but Ghost is well made and performs nicely on the skin. If you like sweet, try it.

Purplebird7 is spot on about Ed Hardy Woman (and about Mexican prayer candles). This is a sweet creamy strawberry accord top to bottom and beginning to end: that’s it… creamy strawberry (fields) forever.

Ed Hardy Man opens with an interesting accord that is made up of citrus, mace and mint. This citrus, mace, mint combination is unique, interesting, and very enjoyable: The accord contains all the characteristics of its ingredients… it is warm, cool, textured, edgy, safe, fresh, and softly masculine. The musk and wood from the base, first tweak the basic opening accord with a bit of drama, but after a while the base becomes very traditionally woody. I find this an interesting and admirable fragrance. The vicious tiger on the packaging doesn’t quite fit the character of the fragrance because Ed Hardy Man is a rather discreet, comfortable, agreeable experience.

This review is of the Carroll & Company’s version of the original Atkinson’s Royal Briar. I have never tried the original, but I am assuming that this is an adequate representation of it.

Royal Briar is unusual to me: there are similarities to other men’s colognes of the past, but there is something in it that separates it from anything else I’ve experienced. I can’t say it reminds me of any particular men’s cologne, but it is without a doubt, recognizably masculine. It starts out alcoholy, but that is just temporary. It quickly becomes quite woody, and I can’t tell if there are any of the usual opening citrus notes because the woodnotes dominate so strongly. There are some notes that smooth out the woods but never seem to show their own smell – probably flora, orl possibly a smooth low-key spice like mace – the woodnotes are at the fore, and there is a half resinous / half aromatic wood-like note in the background. The fragrance ends on a soft, pleasant, masculine, somewhat powdery opoponax and amber base.

I enjoy this scent very much. It is well balanced, masculine and discreet. It seems to have a bit of a problem lasting on my skin, but it is an excellent fragrance and its $25. 00 price can’t be beat.

My first couple of testings of this gave me a gaudy, over-the-top sweet and floral opening accord. I couldn’t believe the reviews of it because none of them mentioned the fragrance’s excessiveness. So I kept putting the sample back in the file until I could begin to smell something somewhat similar to the other reviews. Mission accomplished! Now when I apply Ardenbeauty I get bergamot and green notes – either the green notes or the bergamot seem a trifle synthetic, but otherwise, there’s nothing special in the accord. I don’t know what a living rice flower smells like so I can’t judge if it is there or not. The blue lotus flower note and the lilies and orchids I came out after about five minutes, and they are pleasant notes – quite low key, and the orchid note doesn’t even annoy me. The base is a generic musk / wood / amber that lasts.

I’m not very excited about this fragrance. I would call it pleasant, rather generic, a bit synthetic… and that about says it.

Lots of citrus and citrus-like notes in this one, and the accords are quite spectacular. The herbals used in conjunction with the citrus augment the citruses almost silently, leaving the impression that it’s all about citrus… but it isn’t all about citrus, it’s about richness and delicate variance in the citrus accords: It is as beautiful use of citrus as I’ve seen… Unfortunately, the beauty lasts all of ten minutes, and the fragrance becomes an uninteresting, extremely soft skin scent that lasts another half hour on my skin. I understand the concept of sandcastles, but I’m not into sandcastles built on the shore as the tide is coming in… This fragrance needs to last longer…

A poorly conceived and hastily developed flanker. They took the metallic component of Chrome and added many of the minor “fashionable” notes that have appeared recently in other empty fragrance introductions of the past few years: It has apple, “aquatic note,” tea, maté, and Embruns (whatever that is). Then they called it “Legend.” “Legend” as if there is some sort of history and future to it: there isn’t... not in the real world. What does it smell like? I would label it “Chrome Defiled.” The metallic note of Chrome has lost its special appeal because it is bastardized by being combined with the other notes, rather than standing on its own. The apple note is just as synthetic as you would imagine the combination of “apple” and metallic would be. “Maté”? I don’t smell it. Embruns sea spray?… well, Legend DOES smell saltier than Chrome… big deal. The result is a mish-mash of a fragrance with no direction or purpose except as a desperate and inferior product extension to a successful product. I would say that these product extensions do not often work, and Chrome Legend supports my view.

I barely smell the ginger in this one – I get a big floral accord that is dominated by wisteria and carries a powdery background. It reminds me of Bulgari Blu for men without the ginger, and in that sense, I much prefer this except that this one is very feminine with its powdery florals. Besides boasting florals, the fragrance’s powder is white musky and vanilla, and it smells to me like a feminine talcum powder. It’s a linear fragrance with little variations except that it gets more powdery as it progresses.

If it weren’t for the fact that I am used to Bulgari Blu for Men, I think I would be impressed by this fragrance and call it a wonderful feminine floral / spice offering. But I do own the men’s version and I am aware of how deceivingly strong that similar scent is to this and how it is so easy to grow to dislike it. I guess my prejudice makes my vote on Bulgari Blu EDP a neutral.

I think it’s a shape shifter — and it is obviously a fragrance that performs differently on different skins. It is a shape shifter because I get somewhat different reactions every time I test it. It begins with an accord that I have difficulty categorizing. I get a soft creamy lavender / bergamot accord and definitely some mint, but I don’t get an herbal effect from the mint or the thyme that is supposed to be there. At first I didn’t smell any fruit in the mix, but each time I tested it, the fruit note became more apparent. But even after several testings, the opening accord has not become excessively sweet. It’s an excellent opening that I’ve come to appreciate. It gives a neutral warm feeling without emphasizing any particular note. I find it abstract, quite modern, and casual. The heart of the fragrance IS identifiable — it is woody and creamy. To my nose, the cedar and sandalwood stand out with the strong assistance of the geranium and the jasmine. I love this middle accord — the cedar is beautifully presented because it is used with such discretion. It has a warmth to it that I usually don’t get from cedar, and the middle accords are long lasting and entirely sniffable. The dry down turns somewhat recessive, though. The amber simply doesn’t come through for me, although the sweetness of the tonka and vanilla does. Without the amber, the dry down strikes me as rather thin. In spite of the dry down, Burberry London is a good fragrance: It’s probably not going to be a classic, but it’s a pretty fragrance that will hold its own as a trustworthy casual that’s a touch adventurous. The top levels are enjoyable and competently done. The drydown could be fuller and broader, but all things considered, it’s a thumbs up.

Terra le Parfum opens with a strong aromatic lavender note with a bit of pepper and a quiet but sharp green. At first sniff I thought I was going to like it because I usually much prefer this aromatic type lavender to the creamy type lavender. But the straight lavender opening doesn’t last long before the vanilla and pine enter in… They don’t work together… What a strange… errr… unique combination – lavender, pine, and vanilla. I’m with Marlen: I can’t help but think of Christmas every time I smell it. Terra is not overly sweet, which is good because that would have made it completely trashy. As it is, it’s a strange one. It will take time for me to learn to appreciate this one. (Edit of 16 December 2008 review.)

Mint… nice, pleasant, aromatic… then licorice… a LOT of licorice. Maybe it’s in the character of licorice, but that note comes on too strongly for me especially because it’s helped by the fragrance’s own rather resinous aromatics. I personally don’t find the aroma of licorice at all compelling, but that is pretty much all this fragrance has to offer. I would like to have gotten the absinthe note but it makes itself unavailable to my nose. Absinthe settles down after its licorice assault, but it just doesn’t seem to develop very much after the attack. Linear and short on longevity. Not a very impressive performance. (Edit of 10 October 2008 review.)

One can immediately tell that this is not a modern scent because the opening is rather uninspired. It is obviously intended for purchasers with a longer than nine second attention span. With many of the “classics” the opening is simply a holding pattern — sometimes attractive, sometimes not — while the newly liberated scent molecules marshal their forces to present their real job and purpose; and that purpose is the presentation of the middle and basenotes, which contain ninety-nine percent of the existence of the fragrance. Drakkar’s opening is a soapy and spongy aromatic / citrus. The citrus plays a very small role in the action, while the aromatics — albeit insecure, unorganized, and a bit unrefined — provide the main force of the initial volley. It’s a tolerable opening but it is far from stellar, and if it had to depend on the typical modern mass- market purchaser, it might be immediately eliminated from his list. The richer, fuller, refined heart is a balanced green / spice accord with emphasis on the coniferous notes of pine and juniper. This is a distinctly wearable accord. The heart notes are not really fresh as “fresh” is presented nowdays, but they are clean, full, and natural. With sensible application, they provide a restrained, dignified sillage that is legendarily attractive to the fairer gender. The base notes add leather, sandalwood, and oakmoss to the note lineup in a skillfully balanced and refined accord — I don’t get the patchouli that is supposed to be there because the leather overrides it to my nose. I often dislike leather in fragrances and the leather in Drakkar Noir is what has kept me from purchasing it in the past. I keep decant of Drakkar Noir and I sniff it once in a while in spite of my dislike of the leather note. I have found it an interesting fragrance in the past, but never intriguing. It is very strong and has to be applied with a good dose of restraint. Too strong and it is a turn-off. Excellent longevity. (Edit of 15 October 2005 review. Changed from a neutral.)

I’ve got to do a complete turn around on this one—the more I wore it, the more it turned on me: pure Headachesville. Man.Aubusson begins in a warm and smooth opening—lavender, citrus, and wood—smooth, but rather artificial in timbre, and the kind of accord, I soon discovered, that very easily gets cloying—and it does…big time. It moves to a bourbon geranium middle that is not too much different from the opening. Its long lasting base is a classic sandalwood, vanilla, and amber—too vanilla sweet for me. In fact, I think that the vanilla is the major culprit in both the linearity and the cloyingness of the fragrance. Man.Aubusson is a very strong Oriental, capable of providing a major disruption in the vicinity of the wearer. (Edit of 10 October 2005 review. Changed from a thumb’s up.)

The opening is a citrus, fruit, touch-of-cinnamon accord combined with “Indian Davana Essence,” whatever that is. This opening accord is extremely sweet, and it seems even sweeter than it actually is. There is a little of the rosewood from the middle and incense from the base reaching up to add a bit of a smoky dimension to the sweetness and I think that is a very good touch: I believe this combination of notes would have worked, had the opening not been so overly sweet. The spicy / rosewood heart is quite successful, although it still suffers from a sugary afterburn: I enjoy the middle notes because they include a rosewood note and I’m always a sucker for rosewood in a fragrance. The heart ie quite 90’s, but somehow it doesn’t annoy me as much as most of those 90’s sweet fruit-bombs — I’m still impressed by the judicious use of the rosewood and incense. Some of the sweetness is carried into the drydown and the drydown is quite subtle and definitely close to the skin, but it lasts for an acceptable period of time. I’m ambivalent about Jako — it’s too sweet for me, but I do think it has more complexity than others of its era. It’s the abundant sweetness with a cloying attitude that keeps me from enjoying this fragrance. This could have been much more interesting and even bottle worthy had they been more stingy with the sweetness. (Edit of 09 October 2005 review.)

I’ve been defeated, but I am still proud of my efforts… After years of trying to wear Yatagan, hoping to some day tolerate its aggressiveness, I’ve given up… I couldn’t do it: The wormwood, artemisia, leather, and castoreum form a combination that is lethal to my nose. I sure would love to smell what other reviewers smell in this, but to me, this is is close to fragrance hell. (Edit of 02 October 2005 review.)

Hei is based on an excellent idea as far as I’m concerned—a masculine minimalistic green fragrance with a Fung Shui vibe. I think it is partially successful. The bamboo and mint notes are done sort of okay, but the notes are a bit muddled and massed in the 90’s tradition – these potentially clean and clear notes come through a bit creamy and/or soapy. There should be distinct identification of each of the notes and more separation between them. The mint should be a clear ethereal mint ringing its vibration through the rest of the green as the mint in Derby is presented. Natural bamboo has a delicate clear green aroma that would work much better than a creamy version of it. I believe Hei portends to be minimalistic, but its creamy massed accords seem to be simply trying to complete with all the other massed notes fragrances from all the other ‘90s releases. I don’t think Hei can compete with other scents on their terms. It should have gone another route—clear, precise, delicate bamboo, mint, and wood notes with a subtle background of lavender, jasmine, and amber / musk. It would have been smashing. (Edit of 09 October 2005 review.)

Coriolan was one of those love-it-or-hate-it scents when it first appeared. To me that says that this must be an excellent fragrance: Polarization is for the great ones, indifference is for the mediocre. Coriolan is anything but mediocre. The fresh citrus opening is tempered and enriched by aromatic greens—sage and juniper—to create a refined accord that I would call not green nor aromatic nor citrus; it’s a combination accord but without the synthetic implications I find in so many of the massively noted openings of the 90’s fragrances. I view this scent as Guerlain’s attempt to meld the synthetic trends of the ‘90s with their tradition of excellent fragrances. (No, it does not contain the Guerlainade… the fact of which makes me grateful.) As the citrus abates, the juniper becomes more dominant and is joined by the spices and an obscure floral element. This heart accord is smooth and creamy to the point where the individual notes are unlikely to be identified. I usually prefer accords with individually identifiable notes but this smooth heart accord is particularly satisfying to me. The juniper combines with the patchouli, musk, amber, and, of course, oakmoss, to make a smooth, musky, mossy base where every once in a while an incense note wafts through the mossy musk: ethereal… but, alas, the beautiful Coriolan has only marginal longevity on my skin.

I am in a state of ambivalence about the gender distinction of Coriolan. I don’t think it is masculine, but it certainly isn’t feminine, either. Even more to my stupefaction, it doesn’t seem to be a typical unisex scent, either. As far as I’m concerned, this is an absolutely genderless fragrance, and in spite of that or because of that I find it quite sensual. (Edit of 08 October 2005 review.)

Francesco Smalto Pour Homme opens on a fresh note — slightly green, somewhat citric, more aromatic than green-herbal: It’s a nice opening but I personally don’t care for the anise note that, to me, muddies up the freshness of the opening a bit. The opening is an interesting accord, though — it is rustic, masculine, and discreet – actually quite unique. In the heart notes, the aromatics grow somewhat stronger, moving into a true herbal / green — richer than the opening, but retaining discretion and centered in a soft smoky ambiance. The dry down is an example of a genuine rustic fougere: moss, hay and leather. I love the hay note, and although I usually don’t like leather in a fragrance, the leather here seems to work okay for me. This was once my favorite fragrance, and after all these years, I still find it interesting and I wear it once in a while. It is ultra-masculine, and it performs well on the skin with very good longevity. (Edit of 04 October 2005 review. Changed from a thumb’s up.)

Sniffing this one again brings back memories. There is something so real, so “there” about Quorum—it doesn’t have not much sophistication, it has absolutely no finesse, but it boasts loads of character. It is a straightforward, masculine-of-the-days-gone-by fragrance that brooks nothing less than extreme dryness and starkness. The light citrus notes of the opening are overwhelmed by the deeper darker aromatics of artemisia, cumin, pine. and patchouli—apparently the citruses are not masculine enough. The florals of the middle don’t even dare to rear their beautiful heads. The ultra macho leather and tobacco control the base with the help of the moss and incense. Quorum is about as rawly masculine as a fragrance can get.

I don’t wear Quorum very much anymore. The world has changed and I’ve changed, too. But taking a sniff of Quorum reminds me of where I’ve come from and I miss that at times. Quorum’s not a beautiful or smooth or balanced or creative scent. It’s extremely masculine and it achieves its masculinity with its darkness and potency. It has grit and character, and I’ll always keep a bottle of it around. (Edit of 02 October 2005 review. My first review – now edited.)

This is basically a fragrance that doesn’t have too much going for it except that it isn’t annoying or pushy. I don’t find anything wrong with this fragrance and it is pleasant in an unexciting sort of way. This is probably one of the better ones of the most recent Calvin Klein fragrances, but that isn’t saying much. Calvin Klein Man is light, it’s not highly synthetic, and it’s rather subtle. I, for one, don’t get a lot of “sweet” out of it. It is nicely fresh and comfortably wearable and has pretty good longevity. It’s inoffensive except for those who don’t care for violet leaf, but even the violet leaf isn’t excessive: An ok fragrance, just not all that interesting.

Quite subtle and complex… the petitgrain comes on dominantly in the opening providing its citrus / herbal accord with a soft aromatic personality. To my nose the petitgrain and sage dominate with a diminutive lavender and anise shadowing it – it’s a rather sheer and dry herbal accord that I find very enjoyable in its uniqueness and discreetness. The heart notes continue the gentle aromatics with a soft cedar and geranium accord. Still very enjoyable and not very much different from the opening accord. For the skin scent-like base I get primarily moss and very little sweet. Varon Dandy remains dry, herbal, and subtle throughout its run resulting in a light and gentle masculine fragrance that is a very easy wear. Weak sillage and very good longevity.

The opening is interesting – I enjoy the combination of orange and fig leaf… a very nice combination nicely done. But then the middle notes get too floral for me. Since I don’t get any mitigating pepper, the lily and the orange blossom get too heady for me, too strong, and it’s just too much for a while. The top and middle accords simply do not last very long; Then, after, say…a half hour, absolu is already into its rather weak drydown, from which I don’t get labdanum or cistus, but rather an potentially cloying sweet vanilla / amberish accord. The entire fragrance is gone from my skin within an hour even after a heavy application.

I’m not used to florals raging so strongly on my skin – usually they don’t perform very well, but with this fragrance the universe is turned upside down… the florals dominate on my skin and I can barely smell them on the paper card. On the card the pepper is very strong in the opening, and then I get a lovely orange, fig leaf, reduced lily, accord that seems to serve as both the later opening and the heart. It’s not long before the labdanum moves in to provide a beautiful, somewhat resinous depth to a fragrance I had thought was totally uncomplicated. On paper the drydown is a soft, textured, balsamic elegance. Rochas Absolu performs much better on paper than on my skin. It’s a so-so, feminine ultrafloral with poor lasting power on my skin, and an elegant unisex soft-spicy floral with poor lasting power on paper.

Very nice… impressive, even. Ferrari Racing is lighter, subtler than the other Ferrari fragrances I’ve tested, and yet it has some interesting things going on. The pyramid cites several citrus notes in the opening but the opening doesn’t actually seem citrus to me. The basil and black pepper apparently dominate to the point where the citrus recede to the background. The middle is quite lively and spicy and the notes are clearly presented. I can identify sage, vetiver, cinnamon, and nutmeg in an excellently presented, if a bit raw, accord. Racing ends an a strong note… The drydown is woody with cashmeran wood, sandalwood, and patchouli. The wood is shadowed by some labdanum and musk. I’m missing the incense in the base. All the notes form a subtle fragrance that is clearly defined, masculine, and rather long lasting. Ferrari Racing is a winner.

Zirh Ikon is a not very complicated, but pleasant wood / incense fragrance. It opens with a gentle, balanced citrus / spicy accord where, at least on my skin, the spices and citrus are very soon overbalanced by wood and incense. The wood / incense then continue dominating through the end of the drydown. The incense, while pleasant at first, is probably not of the best quality because it has a poor longevity within the fragrance, and when the incense eventually morphs into something just a little more than a skin scent, and there is an oily, slightly synthetic off-note.

In spite of the description I just gave, I truly enjoy this fragrance because it is resinous, a little spicy, it’s masculine, and it smells darn good if I don’t pay too much attention to the quality of the ingredients and if I don’t smell it too close to the skin. I also like its softness and discreetness: I find it admirable that Ikon presents incense / wood / spice notes with character and yet the fragrance itself is quiet, sheer, and discreet – quite an accomplishment as far as I’m concerned, especially in an inexpensive fragrance. I love the magnetic cap, too… Ikon doesn’t have very good longevity on my skin.

The synthetic combination of bergamot and cedarwood is pernicious. I have known very few fragrances that I found as annoying as Hoggar is when it hits my skin. I bought a bottle blind and it’s another one of my regrets of blind-buying decisions. Regardless of when it was developed, I find Hoggar one of those ‘90s offerings that have that synthetic, conglomerate miasma thing going – only this one is worst than most. In four attempts I have never been able to keep it on my skin for more than fifteen minutes – in the past that has only happened with leather, violet leaf, or orchid prominent fragrances. There is no note listed in Hoggar that I dislike, so I’m guessing my problem with it is the quality of the ingredients or the proportions of the assembly, or maybe it’s the skin reaction thing. In any case, this is an emphatic thumb’s down.

One of the great masculine classics: I would place Lauder for Men in the company of the originals of Antaeus, Van Cleef & Arpels, Bois du Portugal, and Tiffany for Men: truly distinguished. After a piercing but short-lived opening citrus note, Lauder for Men quickly progresses to a smooth spice / wood / green accord that can be described as a lot noble and a little dirty. Its top presents all the needed characteristics: full, rich, masculine, smoothly blended, and a more than a bit intriguing with its massed and complex accords. Its movement to the floral middle is smooth, and so is the floral middle itself, which doesn’t smell very floral: it’s a rippleless presentation of the wood / green from the top, floral bouquet from the middle, with the beginnings of the wood, amber, moss and musk of the base. The drydown follows the sophisticated patterns already established: ultra smooth, note filled, massed ‘80s accords, well balanced.

Though not as aggressive and domineering as those I’ve mentioned, at all times there is an authoritative exclusiveness about Lauder for Men that holds strongly through the run of the fragrance. It’s one of the few great classic masculine archetypes, and probably the most versatile of the group.

X-Centric: synthetic to the max but not necessarily unpleasant: Annoying opening - generic middle - nice base.

An unabashedly prejudiced review: The superb quality of the individual notes and the complexity of construction separate this fragrance from most of its competition – including most of the Creeds. Feuille Verte is an incredible offering. The clarity, purity, and artistry of the notes and accords have little competition. In the opening I especially appreciate the lime note that is as pristine as the lime notes of the best colognes: quite an achievement in a fragrance as complex as this. The rose combined with oakmoss in the middle notes is a unique and interesting combination to my nose, even though those two notes are not particular favorites of mine. The base is what I admire most.: I’m a sucker for jasmine and this is another jasmine version that I love unconditionally. I found the presentation of the jasmine a surprise when the movement of the fragrance led me there. It’s perfection. Let me echo the sentiment that the only thing wrong with this fragrance is that it is not part of Creed’s permanent line.

There is a sparkly and bubbly feeling to the opening, reminiscent of champagne. The opening is very peachy and I can smell the cumin along with the peach / apricot: The cumin improves the accord because I usually don’t care much for peach notes. It doesn’t get floral enough for me in the middle – it keeps its peachy / fruity character pretty much all the way through. I do smell a nice layer of jasmine in the background. All the way through the opening and mid notes I get a disagreeable green-like note in the far background that seems an awful lot like violet to me, although violet is not listed in the pyramids. In the drydown the cedar and a lesser vanilla and patchouli takes prominence with a background that has an element of castoreum: Very nice but not thrilling.

Yvresse is a softer fragrance than many YSL’s, and, although it has an enjoyable – fun even – character, it also shows distinct aspects of sophistication. Its bubbly character in the opening is excellent enough to make me enjoy it even though it features peach, but to me the rest of the fragrance is not very interesting. Very good longevity earns it a somewhat tenuous thumb's up.

A simpler, modernized, but still viable version of the famed Polo Green… The resinousness of the original is reduced and so is the leather and heavier herbs like thyme, which makes for a much cleaner, less ponderous presence. It is still green but I think it is less coniferous and more airy. That strong presence of the original that wafted through the halls of the school thirty years ago hasn’t disappeared… it’s just been beautifully reinterpreted and it is unquestionably worthy to reside in the bottle of the original Polo. The green of Modern Reserve is an herbal green – primarily basil tempered by a sharpness-reducing cardamom. There is still a tiny bit too much leather for me, but not enough to keep me from buying a bottle. The softening floral element has been reduced to just a rather abstract jasmine note, and since jasmine is my favorite floral note, you won’t hear me complaining at the simplification. The (possibly dated) quality of the geranium has been removed and the base is a simplified, clear, and long lasting cedar and patchouli with a minimum of soft suede leather. I like this better the original. I had an at-a-distince admiration for the original although I never purchased it because the leather note was a bit too much for me. One sniff of Polo Modern Reserve and I laid down the cash and fulfilled a three-decade desire. I’ve worn Modern Reserve many times and I’m still as pleased as I can be – after all these years I can now wear a version of Polo Green.

Similar to Polo Green, but different enough to claim its own character and feeling. It mostly retains Polo Green’s rawness and masculinity, but it is toned down and smoothed out some. It opens with an herbal / spicy green note with a sharp, light aromatic tinge that I like very much. I especially enjoy the caraway element in opening – it adds an additional spicy / aromatic element to a basic Polo Green opening broadening the opening to a cooler aromatic accord. The opening doesn’t seem as aggressive as Polo Green’s – it’s more herbal and less resinous. I prefer Polo Crest’s way of introduction – less explosive, broader, and more refined. The difference between the middle notes of the two Polo’s is subtle but important. I think that the florals take over a bit more in Crest than in Green. I wouldn’t call Crest’s middle strongly floral but it is smoother and less herbal. The base is where the real difference lies. In Crest, the leather is greatly reduced, and the incense and woods come through more strongly. Like the original Polo Green, Polo Crest’s accords are masculine, distinctive, and long lasting. The “sweet” in both fragrances lies in a continuum somewhere between minimal and nonexistent. Because of having similar coniferous notes – juniper, pine, and cedar – in each level of the pyramid, I find both fragrances somewhat linear, but still, I see Polo Crest as having less intense coniferous notes than Polo Green. I do prefer the drydown of Crest. Of course, the sillage and longevity of both are excellent, and both are thumb’s up fragrances.

The previous reviewers said it all so I can only reiterate: Tea Rose is exactly what its name says: “tea rose,” the delicately sweet and redolent smaller rose. It is plain and potent in its direct simplicity, and it is an excellent, straightforward tea rose scent. It is full, rich, dynamic, and even a tad exotic. It’s lovely if you love the power of the rose, and if you don’t care too much for the scent of a rose, it’s not for you. I’m impressed, and its low price is hard to believe.

Sandflowers is a very light aquatic / supposedly woody fragrance that opens with quite a pleasant aquatic note and then dissolves into nearly nothing. I was expecting the calone and I was expecting the sandalwood: The aquatic calone came through quite well, and a very nice note it is. I didn’t get any sandalwood, although there was a pleasant oakmoss background to the miscellaneous texture of the fragrance. Like so many of the Montale non-aouds, Sandflowers comes across as vague but pleasant. It is too nebulous, indistinct, and recessive for me. I guess this, as many of the other non-aouds, was not designed for me…

This is the caramelized version of vanilla. This is the version I like. The vanilla in Mont Blanc’s Femme Individuelle shows itself immediately with it rich, sweet tones. To my nose the vanilla dominates but the current and rose notes show themselves quite clearly in the background. There’s a soft, musky, vanilla drydown. Femme Individuelle seems to be linear, it has very good lasting power, decent sillage, and is beautifully feminine.

I don’t remember the last time I smelled a starched shirt… but I’m pretty sure that’s not what I’m getting here. I mainly get an unusual cedar that seems quite peppery. Lagerfeld Man opens with a bit of citrus and a tiny bit of lavender, but mostly what I smell is that peppery cedar note that begins as quite a pleasant sensation, but all too quickly mutates to a synthetic skin scent as it ages. As a linear cedar / pepper scent, Lagerfeld Man is quite likeable, and I enjoy it’s masculinity because I find it refreshingly different from the typical designer production of synthetic, generic, unisex fragrances of the past fifteen / twenty years. But there are a few quite recent masculine offerings that are better, more interesting and more complex than this one. The most unfortunate element of this fragrance, though, is its longevity – it doesn’t last near long enough.

The number one Boss fragrance not only in name: I was expecting something completely different. I wasn’t expecting anything of substance and sensuality. This is not one of those later characterless and artificial Hugo Boss fragrances. This fragrance exhibits genuine ‘80s characteristics – probably diluted through reformulations – but still retaining definite aspects of powerhouse potency and sensuality. Boss Number One opens alcoholy, and immediately moves into a rich juniper and artemisia –and it has a slightly dirty nature, but where the dirty comes from is not hinted at in the pyramid, unless its related to the patchouli of the base. I get very little citrus or herbal in the opening – just those lush, masculine notes. The middle notes get a little more arid in spite of the honey that’s listed for the middle. The drydown is quietly reserved with deep wood, tobacco, and patchouli notes.

The unfortunate aspect of the fragrance is its lack of longevity. Usually scents like this last much longer than Boss Number One.

I don’t find much similarity between this one and the other two Un Jardin scents – en Mediterranee and Sur Le Nil. This one is fresh and light where the others were sweeter, fruitier, and denser. My first testing of Un jardin après la mousson gave me a synthetic aquatic accord but the syntheticness has diminished each time I tested it. Now I get a cucumber / melon hybrid opening that gradually morphs to pretty much a salty / vegetal honeydew note. The scent basically continues as a melony / salty / aquatic that is light and clear, has good sillage, and lasts. I’m not one who gets a lot of “sweet” from this scent but the drydown seems to be quite vegetal gourmandish with its cucumbery-melon accord and just that hint of salt in the background. I interpret it as aquatic because of the salt and because I have come to think of a prominent cucumber note as representative of an aquatic aroma.

I’m not crazy about this fragrance – it comes across to me as pleasant but not very original. I do like it the best of the Un Jardin series, but then I strongly dislike Un Jardin Sur Le Nil and I am totally bored by Un Jardin Mediterranee. This is not a garden to me (considering my reaction to the other two… probably a good thing) but even though it’s not a bad scent, I’m not interested… Potent sillage and tenacious longevity.

I think something has been changed in this scent. A girlfriend in the seventies wore this and it was wonderful… so totally chypre and sexy. Now I get that chypre feeling only for the first few minutes after application. Then it switches to a floral that I would swear has violet dominating, even though violet is not listed in the official pyramid. That ?violet? ruins it for me: I lose contact with the other florals, the woods, and the entire chypre feeling to the fragrance. I don’t remember the Halston of the ‘70s being like this one.

I do see a distant relationship to Organza – they have somewhat the same background texture, but there is a big difference in strength. This one is very subtle: It takes a lot of concentration to even smell it. It opens with a light floral / citrus. I can’t place the particular floral… the honeysuckle / lily of the valley mentioned in the pyramid sounds about correct. Then in the middle it switches to an extremely light white floral – I get primarily jasmine with a shadowing of vanilla. The drydown is mostly vanilla. I don’t get any of the wood mentioned in the pyramid.

First Light is soft and light to the point of disappearing. I do (barely) smell the entire fragrance and its movement and it is a pleasant sheer floral but I really don’t determine any sillage, just a skin scent, and not a very remarkable one at that. Weak, nice but bland, short-lived: that about sums it up.

I dislike criticizing fragrances too much or too often – I don’t like to think of myself as a complainer – I’d rather exert my ability to tolerate things. I also dislike the lack of creativity in me where I end up saying the same thing over and over again, but here it goes again: Givenchy Pour Homme Blue Label is vacuous, synthetic, uninspired, and copied from something better. I wonder why Givenchy felt that the world needed yet another lower-end, pretend-high-fashion, market-inspired, too expensive, imitatively conceived, cheaply made, ugly bottled rip-off of something better. Acqua di Gio, Bulgari Acqua, the Issey Miyaki and Kenzo offerings are much better than this one. In its defense I will say that this is much better than the red Givenchy Pour Homme.

I can see only a dubious relationship between ∏ Neo and the original ∏: the relationship is quite tenuous… there is a vague vanilla note in Neo’s background, but the main delivery of this flanker is a completely different story from its progenitor. Neo is a fresh, light, synthetic, sweet, (but not as sweet as the original) offering that is pretty much like 80% of the recent men’s fragrances, except that I find this one a even more synthetic than most… I find that hard to believe and completely unforgivable. About the only identifiable note that I can determine among the sweet genericness of ∏ Neo is a light anise. The word “generic” has rightly been used in many of the reviews, and that is the exact word that pops into my mind when I smell this. Light sillage and inadequate longevity.

A very good little scent here. It starts out with a citrus / lavender / mint accord that is light, refreshing, and clean; the opening lasts a decent amount of time before it moves into the spicy middle notes of cypress, cinnamon, and nutmeg. For some reason it doesn’t come across as strong on my skin, but I enjoy the fact that I don’t have to be careful in applying it. The middle, though spicy, is rather soft and reserved. The base continues the reticence of the fragrance with a somewhat dry leather, patchouli, and musk accord. All of the levels show a definite presence and substance even though the fragrance is light and rather discreet.

Everlast Original 1910 is an enjoyable, relaxed, if not hugely original scent. It is nicely put together and it has very competent moves, ok sillage, excellent longevity… it’s modern, well made, and it smells good.

English Leather Black does smell cheap at the first sniff, but it quickly starts developing into something better: the bergamot of the top and middle’s coriander combine to form a unique accord: It’s a rich-ish texture accord incorporating some of the warmer notes – lavender and possibly cardamom (I would say). The opening quickly moves to the middle accord which reminds me a bit of fragrances like DK Leaded and Unleaded or Cacharel’s Nemo. I find the middle level very enjoyable but it doesn’t have a very solid sillage, nor does it last anywhere near long enough. The base is satisfactorily woody – I don’t get any sweet from the fragrance and the musk of the base doesn’t come across very clearly, but I enjoy the drydown except that it just doesn’t last long enough.

English Leather Black is an interesting and somewhat successful attempt at a black version of the drugstore classic. It would have been successful had it any real longevity.

This is a nice, pleasant Floral - Fruity. Fruity / floral is usually the last thing I would call “nice or pleasant” ...I don’t like the genre, but this one is okay because it is relatively subtle and because the florals take precedence – as a matter of fact, I’m not sure that I smell any fruit notes in the mix – they are only sort of hinted at. What I do smell is the bergamot and, I think, honeysuckle in the opening. I later get a definite lily of the valley and heliotrope: All very nice, all somewhat subtle, all having a decent sillage and good longevity. The drydown is a typical white musk and amber, and that, too, is relatively subtle. Cynthia Rowley is a very nice fragrance and I don’t determine anything special.

Jasmine and green, subtly presented in a texture olfaction… the kind of texture some people refer to a cardboard, or hairspray, or (my favorite) Snuggles: This is the entire basis and the content of Crown’s Matsukita. It’s a clean, subtle, non-flowery floral fragrance. Most of the time I smell it as a clean, jasmine / floral. A few times, I have gotten Snuggles. When it’s the floral, it’s elegant and feminine. When it’s Snuggles, its very forgettable and unisex. A chancy fragrance IMO…

My first few sniffs of this had me saying “Oh, yawn, another fruity – floral – the last thing in the world I need to be smelling now…” So I lost interest until about ten minutes later when I realized that the textured, generic, slightly synthetic fruity – floral opening I had just experienced had turned into an aroma of delicacy and freshness. It’s not even fair to call the opening “fruity – floral” because the floral part of it is minimal. The fruit, however, are etherealized translucence. The peach, pear, and melon (I don’t get apricot or apple) are pristinely vaporous, and, while fruity fragrances are usually an annoyance to me, I can’t help but admire the clarity and quality of these accords. The heart notes pick up some floral elements – lily of the valley and water lily each with an edge of lemon blossom. It’s a very good floral accord – bright and clean… feminine but not girly. For the base I get cedar, vanilla, and powder.

Spring Flower performs beautifully on the skin… Its sillage occurs in wisps – I would say that this is a scent that should be smelled as sillage rather than close to the skin. Close to the skin Spring Flower smells more creamy. The wispy nature of its sillage is its true accomplishment and persona, IMHO.

Worn to be wild! – That’s what the box says, and who can argue with that? Wild spice for Men is an uncomplicated and pleasant spicy fragrance. The box says it’s a “…mixture of bold clove, nutmeg, and thyme,” and I can agree with that. This fragrance is quite spicy and if you like spice, you will probably like this. It’s a well-balanced accord that contrary to its name, the rampant spice lover would not find “wild.” It isn’t overpowering and I don’t discern anything either edgy or disagreeable in it. It is a genuine cologne so it has a somewhat limited longevity, which can be a good thing because it offers something different from the usual citrus colognes for the person who wants a short lived fragrance for whatever reason. I like it, but I can see why it was quickly discontinued: The modern buyer would probably be expecting something modernly generic and synthetic and this doesn’t fit that model. Thumbs up!

Worn to be wild! – That’s what the box says… Wild Woods for Men is an uncomplicated and unassuming wood fragrance is not very exciting but is definitely competent for what it purports to be. The box says that it is a “…mixture of exotic cedar, sandalwood, and musk,” which, except for the word “exotic,” is an adequate description. Its woods are pleasant, aromatic and, if they are synthetic, it’s a pleasant syntheticness. Because of its strong aromatic-like ambiance, I can’t decide if it’s synthetic, but there seems to be a bit of unnaturalness in its construction. I don’t really smell the musk that is supposed to in it, but that is not unusual for me when I meet strong woodnotes. It’s a genuine cologne so it doesn’t last very long… its lack of longevity is even shorter than its sibling, Wild Spice, but I don’t see that as a problem, sometimes I want a nice scent that doesn’t last more than a couple of hours. I don’t love it, but I like it and its price makes it a thumbs up.

I enjoy the classic Stetson, so I was looking forward to this one. Stetson Black is disappointing. It opens with an overused, basil heavy accord. I can’t understand why the makers would use such an uninspired opening accord. The middle is not much of an improvement because it uses a rather inferior version of cedar and vetiver. The middle’s “liquid suede”?… I don’t know what the liquid aspect is… I don’t think I smell it unless it is that slightly annoying note in the background that I’ve smelled since the opening. Stetson Black never gets any better for me… Its drydown comes across as mediocre at best. Okay, it’s not a terrible fragrance and my objections are the same personal prejudices that I have against most leather scents, so, trying to be fair, I’m going with a neutral. Solid sillage, poor longevity…

When I think of grass I think of the smell that comes from mowing the lawn with a non-gas-powered lawn mower. Demeter’s Grass doesn’t smell like fresh cut grass with or without the gas smells. This is meant to smell like “the freshness and sweetness of a lush green grass pasture, much like the pasture…” As such, it has a strong element of wild flowers and odoriferous weeds, which basically challenges my remembrance of mowing Mrs. Molly Mortisen’s half-acre lawn with a push lawn mower and getting a whole eighty-five cents for it. This is an “ehhh…” scent that should have been named “Meadow.”

Not only chocolate but also coffee in this fragrance: It’s a complete olfactory snack. The chocolate is a fairly good one – it’s very sweet, and the first aspect of chocolate enters as a sharp dark chocolate but very soon becomes more of a sweet powdered cocoa scent. The coffee is present all through the short life of the fragrance. Devil’s Food is pleasant fragrance. If you think you'ld like chocolate and coffee, try it.

A nice fragrance: It smells pretty much salty, and I get a short-lived ocean experience from it, but mainly I get salt. I really enjoy it as a room spray, but it makes a very nice personal fragrance for the times I don't want anything obtrusive.

Most of my impressions of Bulgari’s Aqua Pour Homme Marine have been said already by other reviewers. Marine is pretty much a generic scent, somewhat similar to a lot of aquatics out there, therefore not having very much in it to make it unique. It’s uh… pleasant and ehhh … boring; I would probably think much better of it if I didn’t own the original Bulgari Aqua Pour Homme, which I love. In comparison, Aqua PH Marine is simply not a worthy sibling to the original. I enjoy the opening of Marine with the obvious grapefruit note, but when it develops its aquatic signature, it loses all that could be interesting to me. Its aquatic note and its whole ambiance is clear and precise but it is so ho-hum. Its somewhat woody drydown makes it long lasting for an aquatic, but with the base I lose almost all sense of the marine environment that should serve as a motif; instead I get just a diluted wood base. Its sillage is weak and it has quite good longevity. My mini will be the last of my purchases of this.

Saks Fifth Avenue is a white floral composed primarily of jasmine, tuberose, and gardenia… It’s THE traditional, THE classic white floral structure. It’s not quite as heady as Fracas and on my skin it seems comparatively restrained. Although this is not really a tuberose bomb, it does manage a lot of sillage and longevity. It is a bit tropical, very well constructed, and beautifully refined. As forceful as it is, I believe it’s very wearable... actually more wearable than the other white floral icons. In my opinion it doesn’t have the panache of Fracas or Carnal Flowers, but it’s a beautiful and elegant white floral.

Banana Republic’s Classic: Light, citrus, somewhat green and somewhat floral. Clean, restrained citrus accords with green accents form the opening, followed by a very discreet floral texture. The drydown is more musky than woody and gets close to being powdery, which, I think, gives it a bit more of a feminine than masculine feeling, but actually Classic is quite unisex. It’s true that it’s very much in the vein of Happy and Happy for Men, but it’s softer and more transparent than the Happy’s… also less sweet and remarkably absent of synthetic effects. I enjoy this: it isn’t fussy in use and it’s uncommonly easy to wear: almost impossible to make a mistake in application. Very good value… Quite youthful… This is a beauty.

The opening is very pretty and pleasantly unique. It is a smooth, cinnamon-spicy accord that is a bit resinous, and a bit floral. The pyramid says myrrh and I think I can feel it in the background, and, as so often happens, I don’t smell very much of the pepper that is supposed to be in the accord. The heart notes continue the quiet myrrh note and introduce the immortal flower and a grounding woodnote that stays quite reticent. If there’s any tuberose, it is either too well blended into the matrix or I’m not getting it at all. The middle is soft, neutral, and somewhat synthetic... but it is pleasant in an understated way. I can’t really grasp the middle accord as anything more than a smooth texture because nothing in it seems to stand out to me, except maybe its lack of longevity. The base offers very little more than the top two levels: soft woodnotes with a light, caramel / gourmand sweetness... again, a nice accord but too understated. To me the base comes across as excessively weak and if I sniff close to the skin, it seems to have a noticeable synthetic tinge to it. The movement and the direction of the fragrance’s performance on my skin seem goalless and vague.

When I first tried Ambre Gris, about all I could get was a very sweet / cinnamon spicy fragrance in the opening. Besides “sweet” it was generically synthetic. The opening has since stabilized to my nose to an excellently smooth cinnamon / myrrh accord that doesn’t last nearly long enough. The rest of the fragrance still lets me down: On my skin it comes across as pleasantly gourmand but much too weak. I’m pretty sure that I am unintentionally over-reading the synthetic tones, and missing several other notes that are meant to be. On paper or on clothing Ambre Gris performs much better than it performs on my skin: I get a broader spectrum of notes with a stronger presence of the accords, the movement of the fragrance seems more directed, and it lasts much longer. I guess this is another one of those skin variance things. At any rate, I’m voting a neutral, and I’ll be using it as a clothing fragrance.

This is my favorite of the Anthony Logistics body sprays: It’s bright, lively, and even a little exotic. It opens citrus – orange – with a spiced background of cardamom and cinnamon leaf. It has a lavender shade to it and it is quite floral…floral but not flowery. The floral elements serve as a smooth, neutral texture to the citrus and spices. The dry down is a simple patchouli / musk with a sweet note. Anthony Logistics Energy is not the typical body spray in the sense of reduced sillage and impact. It is more a body spray in the sense of AXE in its strong delivery. Of course, it is a much better scent than most of the AXEs I’ve encountered

Courage is a bright and lively citrus / herbal / coniferous body spray. “Refreshing” is the word that popped into my mind when I first sprayed it. It’s light and casual and has an acceptable lasting power for a body spray: a nice little fragrance.

Odysseusm is spot on about this fragrance. Very green, fresh and not too sharp or perfumy as is sometimes the tendency of inexpensive green fragrances: The use of basil and geranium is well controlled and pleasantly accomplished. Spirit is definitely a solid fragrance that belies its “body spray” designation. Don’t expect this to be subtle… I see it more as a cologne than as a body spray. Think "AXE" ...but a good one that lasts...

That’s right… Lots of sharp alcohol smell comes from the opening. Then there’s a lavender note plus a light conifer and sage smell and this accord has an oily feel to it as well as a genuine synthetic undertone. After the lavender lessens, the conifers rise to prominence and strongly stay in control until the light, short lasting, patchouli / amber basenotes. The oily feeling lasts for only the opening accord, but the alcohol continues as a background note through the entire fragrance. This is not a very interesting or unique fragrance – pretty ordinary, and it is stronger than I expected for a “body spray”: Antony’s Logistics’ Strength seems to have the longevity than some EDTs. I was surprised by its strength, and disappointed by its heaviness – doesn’t seem very body sprayish. About all I can say about this one is:”What’s the point?”

“The scent of the wild, hauntingly beautiful Pine Barrens of New Jersey! Pitch pine with blackberry leaf, cranberry, cedar wood and tomato leaf.”

I’m not an East Coast kind of guy so I don’t know much about the Pine Barrens, although I have been to pine barrens in other states. The Jersey Devil is essentially a cranberry fragrance. The cranberry stays, in mutating form, through the whole, long run of the fragrance. The opening is cranberry and tomato leaf with the pine in the background. The cranberry note is sweet and wet – quite berryish. The tomato leaf is that sharp, almost bitter green that is typical of, well… tomato leaf. The effect is herbal berries. The pine rather stays in the background while the tomato leaf gradually dwindles and the cranberry loses a bit of the wet feel as well as some of the sweetness. By the middle accord the berry is dry, the tomato leaf is present but recessive, the pine is almost gone and a cedar note is strongly rising to prominence. The cedar becomes very strong on my skin and holds through the long drydown, while the berry note fades away.

I like this fragrance – it tells a real story and a story always provides more meaning… I don’t think I’d wear it much, although I do like the berry and the cedar drydown. I could have done without the tomato leaf. Tomato leaf works for me but only as a background note: If it is too dominant, too long as in The Jersey devil, the experience is lessened.

The same nanosecond that the cap came off the sample, I could smell perfume. Quel Amour! presents itself powerfully at first – that’s probably why its name ends with an exclamation point!!!! For what it is – a fruity-floral – it is very good. It has that “fruity-floral” down quite nicely, except that it’s more “FRUITY-FLORAL!!!” than “fruity-floral.” The opening is strongly fruity with peach predominating, but the potency does not last for very long before it settles down to tolerable peach / cherry duet. Those fruit notes hold for an extraordinarily long time for an Annick Goutal fragrance, eventualy to be replaced by the lavishness of peony coupled to the sharpness of rose hip and geranium – I don’t get a floral rose note at all except for a bit of that from the geranium. No drydown but the peony lingers.

Quel Amour! has more longevity than most Annick Goutal fragrances. It’s a pleasant, well-done floral that lacks, I think, the sophistication I expect from AG fragrances. It comes across as very girly and frilly.

This is one of those scents: the kind that I often get stuck with because it seems so impressive at first sniff. It is so impressive – unique, rich, refined – resinous woods and incenses that cause pain because they were so beautiful – I lusted for it, and I almost dumped $290 at that first sniff. Fully ensconced in that mindset, I decide to write a review describing its greatness instead of buying immediately. I wished to show the world how excellent Amouage Jubilation XXV is. And that desire was its undoing… you see, to write a review I have to put aside my mindset and begin using my actual brain. At my second wearing I noticed the fruit / signature note and felt the first tinge of disappointment – I react to it the same way I react to the house note of Ormande Jayne: I don’t dislike it but it just doesn’t push any buttons for me. My third wearing I noticed the signature fruit note and noticed the signature fruit note, and continued and continued to notice the signature fruit note. Why, I wondered, am I noticing this signature note when what I really want is to notice the frankincense, labdanum, and gaicwood notes all those resinous treasures supposedly inhabiting the fragrance? The answer, of course, is – those luxurious, resinous diamonds and sapphires fade quickly while the signature fruit notes rise to prominence, and the fruitiness is hell bent to dominate the total olfactory real estate regardless for my desire for those richer, rarer, soul fulfilling resinous jewels.,, I tried Vibert’s suggestion of applying a heavy dose of liquid, but it had the opposite effect on my skin. The fragrance became softer and lost sillage, while creating an oil slick on my skin. …I’ve never noticed the drydown (if there is one) because after six or seven testings of two or three hours of smelling a not very interesting dried fruit note, I’ve completely lost interest, and I mean that I feel indifferent to anything connected to this fragrance. Thank you, Amouage, for making yet another one-third of a thousand dollar fragrance that I have little interest in buying…

All that being said, Jubilation XXV is a very good fragrance – the only Amouage that I might consider buying besides the discontinued Silver Crystal. JXXV is of undoubtedly high quality ingredients. The artistry of the blendings is superior. It is highly wearable and it is much more adaptable than previous Amouages: Jubilation XXV will work with jeans or tuxedos or anything in between. The quality is there... the passion isn't.

I don’t care for the opening accord – it seems cheap and synthetic to me. This bergamot and basil kind of opening has to be made with halfway decent quality ingredients and it has to be better balanced if it is to succeed. This one doesn’t work. The lavender that shows its synthetic self in the opening is the version of lavender that is found in several of the cheaper fragrances - but I have seen it work well with the proper care. I don’t get any pear or cinnamon, probably because those notes are overwhelmed by the poor bergamot, basil, and lavender accord. The base is totally uninspired: It’s an inferior cedar note mixed disproportionately with some uninspiring musk and vanilla notes. The total fragrance has a synthetic tang to it and, though very inexpensive, is not worth the price. I enjoy many of the multitude of Adidas fragrances: But not Victory League 2006. Good sillage and longevity, unfortunately.

Destiny EDP: Hmmmm… Subtle… musty… musky… Destiny is a unique and intriguing take on the white floral fragrance. It is light – it is essentially presented more as a gossamer-like texture than as a redolent bouquet. Its creator has avoided the usual, indole-laden choices that often inhabit the “white floral” territory. No tuberose, or gardenia, or even jasmine leaving their dirty eminences here and there throughout the fragrance; and the lily is kept under strict control. The resulting accord that I perceive is a clear and light narcissus backed up by a very soft, sheer (white) rose note. This is lightness, delicacy, femininity and translucence. The florals are united into a texture… smooth and rich… a bit powdery… and they stay that way in a state of blissful and graceful linearity. In testing this I realized that this is not a fragrance to be smelled close to the skin. It’s nice enough that way, but its real olfactory gift is the gentle sillage off the skin. Lovely…

I really don’t know what to make of this one. I’ve been experiencing it in a couple of different ways: In a certain sense I rather like it and enjoy its uniqueness and consider it abstractly creative to an extent. In the other sense, it is just too chaotic and I really have difficulty wrapping my mind about it. It’s takes the extroverted tuberose and distills it down to a mere blip on the radar. It plays with a couple versions of a woody ambiance and after experimenting, does nothing – it goes nowhere and I don’t think it ever intended to go anyplace else. It shifts between feminine and masculine and it shifts between darkly serious and insipid. It inhabits the edge of acceptance, but it is unfussily wearable. One sure thing I can say about it is that it is unique.

An unusual néroli because of its lightness and fragile clarity: It is not a pure néroli but a refined, complex bouquet that includes several flowers and a soft but definite green note. The néroli dominates, of course, and is presented more transparently than I have experienced in other neroli fragrances. Since it’s a Annick Goutal fragrance, its lack of longevity is a given, but this one carries that concept to an extreme: very, very short lasting. Néroli is a lovely feminine fragrance.

I think that I derive my appreciation for Bijan from the surprise it causes that it isn’t an over the top, obnoxiously loud super-‘80s bomb as its male counterpart might be labeled. It is a pleasant, rather soft, amber Oriental that is probably too powdery for today’s tastes. More than a few times I have complimented a woman on her fragrance only to be told that it was Bijan. I think it is the kind of fragrance that is appreciated more from the sillage it produces than from direct smelling of the accords on paper or on the skin. This is the type of fragrance that must be applied discreetly – too much is definitely too much, so apply with a subtle hand,

Secret Obsession is a fruity floral flanker that unfortunately has very little in common with its namesake… Judging from the advertising campaign, this one is supposed to be a very sexy and sensual Oriental. I find it more floral than Oriental and the dominant floral element I get is tuberose that is shadowed by orange blossom and a poorly done orchid. Recessive as it is, I don’t like the orchid note at all. While the tuberose note itself is rather okay, the background – the matrix – to the tuberose is quite generically floral hairspray. The drydown seems an after thought, but actually is quite nice – at least it keeps a damper on excessive sweetness. While I don’t get a lot of actual spice, I get many vibrant vibrations from Secret Obsession, which makes me question the “secret” aspect of the name: It’s a little too strong to keep its secret for very long.

Except for the disliked orchid note, this is an okay fragrance that I ordinarily would not be so dismissive of… but, because of my admiration for the original Obsession, I see the marketing of this flanker as a violation…

Venezia is a pretty scent – basically floral with a significant green element and a fairly somewhat important representation of fruity notes. It’s main attraction, I think, is that it is refreshing. It opens with a citrus / fruit accord that is well-done but fairly generic… the red current is a restraining element that tempers the freshness of the citrus and the strong floral texture. In spite of the violet leaf (an annoying note to me) I appreciate the green aspects of the scent a bit more than the floral, because some of the choices of florals are synthetically disagreeable to me. The “waterlily” is an offender – I usually don't like the note wherever it was presented, and this one is about as attractive to me as the water lily notes in several other fragrances. The fruity note in the middle level is pleasant, and the sandalwood supposed to be in the base is almost non-existent. I don’t determine much of a base at all. Venzia is fresh; it has an acceptable sillage, and it is not a long lasting fragrance.

It certainly is a copy of Le Male and an excellent one. 360˚ White is a little less sweet and a little smoother… subtler in presentation of its drama. The notes and accords are similar, with Le Male’s being a trifle more intense. I think Le Male has more complexity to it and, in the end, is a more interesting scent because of its movement and range. But since the category of they both inhabit doesn’t really interest me very much, I'm not really concerned about the intricacies of the fragrance so I think the price difference makes 360˚ White a much better option. It has good sillage and very good longevity.

Tekno reminds me a little of Ultraviolet Man. They don’t smell alike, but I think they are the product of the same kind of idea: They both attempt to represent elements of the modern industrialized world. Tekno accomplishes this with less subtlety, and less refinement than Ultraviolet Man has. Tekno is also clunkier, and much, much shorter lasting. I assume it was created with the same idea as Ultraviolet Man’s – modern, abstract, synthetic, light. It’s not a real EDC or EDT like Ultraviolet, it is a short lived body spray and it is sharp, purposely synthetic, metallic and fresh. It is quite youthful and not altogether unpleasant: It has a certain obscure panache about it that I can’t explain and that I feel I must give a grudging, respect… but in the slightly longer run… it doesn’t matter what it performs like because it has such a short life span. It not a good scent, just a unique one and I feel like I should be ashamed of myself, but I’m voting this barely neutral because it’s unique and it’s better than its price would indicate. (Edit of 22 August 2008 review. Changed from a thumb’s down.)

My first bottle was a college graduation gift from an aunt who had just returned from Paris. Until Eau Sauvage, my idea of a fragrance was Old Spice After Shave. A whole new world opened up to me when I first smelled this one. When it was gone and I sought to replace it with another product, I soon came to realize that there was, at that time (and still today), very little that could challenge this ultra classic.

It opens with one of the best citrus openings in masculine fragrancy. No kidding, this accord is pure beauty with an elegant and refined citrus, herb and petit grain combination. It doesn’t last long, but it lasts long enough to have had me coming back to it for forty years. The opening citrus is replaced by an excellent floral — the first modern masculine fragrance to have such a formula, Dior claims. These florals, too, are exquisite and with the woodnotes form a rich full accord that has excellent lasting power. The drydown provides a very soft, close to the skin musk and moss refinement. Considering that it is a citrus scent, I get quite good longevity from Eau Sauvage. I think when someone complains about the lack of longevity of this fragrance, they might be thinking primarily of the opening. It is true that the opening citrus isn’t long lasting, but that’s the nature citrus accords. I think that the floral / patchouli heart notes and the musky / mossy basenotes are often not given enough credit for being as beautiful as they are. This is a complete scent from its citrus beginning to its mossy conclusion — about four to six hours on my skin. What can I say? Eau Sauvage is superb — it is as desirable, elegant, and as current today as it was when I first wore it forty years ago. One of the really GREAT ones. (Edit of 06 January 2006 review.)

The Calvin I’m testing – the early 2000’s reissue – is different from what I remember of ck’s Calvin in the ‘80s. What I remember seemed to be better than the one I have now – it had about the same accords, but it more defined notes, smoother transitions, and the sillage was less chaotic. What I am testing now is probably a reissue; it’s not quite the fragrance I knew in the past. Calvin opens with a powerful citrus / aromatic accord that is as masculine as it is strong. The citrus note extends itself into the floral / slightly spicy middle notes where the verbena and orange blossom form a foundation with a soft cinnamon leaf / geranium. At the same time, the base extends its sandalwood and maybe even the musk into the middle, creating a complex and nice accord that has quite good longevity. The middle notes are less potent than the opening, but no less masculine. The drydown is the weakest level IMHO. It is almost ‘normal’ in vigor, but it can become very cloying with heat or exertion, or if too much is applied. The fragrance has strong sillage and very good longevity.

It’s Calvin’s propensity to heat up and broadcast too powerfully that causes me to hesitate about it. I don’t remember it doing that in the ‘80s… It’s still a nice fragrance, but it is not the excellent fragrance it used to be – too many corners have been cut. I say, “Bring back the original… It was better.”

It DOES have everything but the kitchen sink. How could I not love this one, with all those great strong notes, it is exuberant and it’s hard not to admire. Of course tobacco is what hits me first—spicy tobacco—bay rum spicy tobacco lolling in a green / herbal accord with aldehydes, conifer, citrus, and wood to fill it out even though it doesn’t need to be filled out. This is a very abundant fragrance.

Abundance continues through the heart notes when a whole new lineup of spices and florals join the crowd: cumin, pimento, pepper, cinnamon, for spices; carnation, lily of the valley, hyacinth, and jasmine for florals. Of course, with all the spices, the florals could not be prominent, but they do serve to provide the heart of the fragrance with a very harmonious platform for the spices to perform on.

The base is my favorite part. It is superb: tobacco, of course, and amber, oak moss, patchouli, cedar wood, sandal wood, tonka, vanilla, myrrh, labdanum, and, my favorite, Oilbanum. Fourteen hours after applying I have a wonderful incense / wood accord still gently emanating from my skin.

I’ve mentioned abundance a couple of times, but that was only in the spirit of exaggeration. Havana is a very potent spicy-tobacco-woody-green chypre, but the strength can be controlled through application, and, besides, the ‘abundance’ lasts for only about a half hour. After all the spice and tobacco fireworks, Havana turns out to be a rich, lusty, but controllable fragrance that lasts and lasts. This is a superb fragrance. (Edit of 17 September 2006 review.)

With Reserva I get a more concentrated version of Havana. The notes that end up being most dominant in the opening to me are the spice notes—they come on very strong. This stronger blast of spices pushes the opening a bit over the line for me. Where I found Havana wonderfully aggressive and edgy, Havana Reserva has gone too far. It takes over a half hour for the spices to settle down to an enjoyable level for me, and when it does, what I get is pretty much the same great accords that I got from Havana, except that spices predominate a bit more to my nose. With the spices dominating, I lose some of the woods and animal notes that I enjoyed so much in Havana. No, Havana Reserva is a very good scent and certainly deserves a thumbs up, but I prefer the original Havana. (Edit of 17 September 2006 review.)

Somehow this one had gone under my radar, and when, a few years ago, I saw it at Marshall’s for a reasonable price, I had no idea what I was buying, but I bought it for the name ‘Gucci.’ It opens up ‘perfumy,’ which is exactly what to expect from a 1988 fragrance. The opening is clean—clean and green—it is a remarkably pure accord for as complex as it is: sharply citrus and lavender with herbal accents, but the herbals aren’t the usual aromatic version; they are solid and centered. As it moves to the mid notes, it picks up a little more green and some florals to fill out the accord with a fuller note. The middle level also begins to add in the coniferous notes, which continues the clean green character. The base is the typical base of the 80’s—complex, deep and rich, with cedar, sandalwood, and moss predominating. Nobile is quite linear and that linearity offers those wonderful clean green vibrations in rich full deep green accords. There is a caveat with Nobile: It is very strong—there is real danger of becoming Mr. Cologne—misting is appropriate. I am very prejudiced about Gucci Nobile—to put it plainly, I think Gucci Nobile is one of the best designer fragrances around! (Edit of 18 January 2007 review.)

Versace L’Homme is a wonderful '80s fragrance that has weathered old age quite well. Genuinely Italian, it opens with an superb basil / citrus opening—the basil is so strong that the citrus merely plays a supporting role. I love the opening—so fresh and aromatic—absolutely addictive: it is a bit 80’s, but it’s top of the class 80s. With the heart notes, the fragrance takes on more of a darkness. I imagine that it’s the patchouli, rose, and sandalwood that move it in that direction, and they do a good job of it. Here is also where it becomes obvious how complex this fragrance is. Poised against the dark patchouli / rose accord is the greenness of cedar and fern spiced up with cinnamon and carnation. The lonely jasmine provides what elements of smoothness there is in the middle. This is a serious turn the fragrance has taken. And the seriousness continues through the base. I don’t get much leather; thankfully. I get moss, musk, and incense; the amber, tonka, and vanilla provide only enough sweetness to make the darkness tolerable. In fact, on my skin, the incense dominates throughout the dry down. This is an impressive fragrance and I wonder why it doesn’t get the respect it deserves on the boards. This deserves its place right up there with Polo Green, Aramis, and Drakkar as a bellwether of the 80s. A masterpiece! (Edit of 25 February 2006 review.)

I bought a bottle of this recently not for nostalgic purposes but to find out why the reviews of it lacked the playful sarcasm that I thought English Leather deserved. What I discovered is that the English Leather being sold today is NOT the English Leather that I used for a while back in the sixties. This is softer, lighter, and more refined. It is not that in-your-face, leather accord that was so vibrantly 1960s: this one is has toned down that “leather” ambiance considerably. I had overdosed on the ‘60s version of English Leather and I still have a strong memory of how cloying it could be… But the cloying element seems to have been eliminated for the most part… Gone is the stupendous sillage that announced “English Leather” to the people three apartments down the hall (I remember this happening)… Gone is the epic longevity that made applying it more than once every three days totally redundant...

The current English Leather is less potent. In the most recent version I can smell the citrus top that I never smelled in the ‘60s version. The leather? I get an echo of the leather accord only occasionally, mostly I get an undetermined wood dominance. I get an unidentifiable but amiable citrus in the opening, which gradually changes to a discreet and civilized mossy / wood / maybe leather accord for the rest of the fragrance. The citrus is non-spectacular, the moss is competent, the woods are somewhat generic / somewhat synthetic, and the leather only occasionally raises its head. The leather Superbomb of the ‘60s has become a mild mannered Clark Kent of a fragrance – competent, unassuming, a bit shy, and sometimes quirky. For the price, this one is a deal to be considered: sometimes those reformulations are for the better. (Edit of 01 December 2005 review. Changed from thumbs down.)

A rustic fragrance. The opening has a substantially dry edge to it dominated by clary sage and absinthe. Along with the dryness is an aromatic aspect with a lavender tinge… I like this opening; it is quietly bleak and masculine. The wood middle is somewhat reminiscent of Safari for Men because of the definite cedar / herbal accord in both fragrances, but, unlike Safari, the dryness gradually lessens with the shadowy addition of the honey / balsam notes: The sweetness never does grow very strong – my skin swallows it as so often happens with sweet notes in wood fragrances. The cedar heart of Smalto is quite soft and weak. There are supposedly floral elements in the mid accord, but I don’t really get any… I suppose the florals are also swallowed up by the black hole of my skin. The drydown moves toward another wood interpretation – this time with a moderately sweet, slightly mossy hay note – it’s quite nice in a rustic sort of way. The base retains the aromatic background that has been with Smalto from the start, but it tends to get rather loose and indistinct at its end.

Smalto is certainly not a strong scent, nor does it hold to a good longevity, but I think it is an interestingly unique scent that accomplishes its purpose . I enjoy Smalto’s dryness and its naturalness, but I would like it better if it had a little less lavender in it. My initial dislike of this fragrance has changed, and I often find myself choosing Smalto when I want a short-lived, arid, soft masculine fragrance. This is definitely a test-before-you-buy fragrance, but anyone who likes a stark, unsweet, masculine wear should give this a try. (Edit of 17 September 2006 review. Changed from a thumb’s down.)

This must be the forth or fifth linden fragrance I’ve reviewed, and I believe that it’s the most unusual one because of its simplicity and direct, delicate floral ambiance. L’Occitane’s Tilleul is the lightest, freshest tilleul / linden / lime fragrance I’ve experienced: It’s presented almost as solo fleur version of linden that seems to reduce the natural density of the flower… The flower is stripped and even a bit thin, and I think the result is quite effective and pleasant. It’s an entirely different face on this fragrant flower. The base of the fragrance shows up quite soon after spraying, and is primarily woody / green. This is a lovely fragrance… another fragrance option for summer. It does not have the complexity or depth of most of the other Tilleul options, but it certainly has its place. Light sillage and less than average longevity.

The initial burst of citrus is well rounded-out by warm and mellow spices – quite a catching opening accord. There is a slight sharpness but the very real and comfortable warmth of the scent holds true with the combination of tepid spice, sharp flowers, and pepper. The pepper accord is very strong and takes a dominant place in the opening and into the middle levels, and adds that elegance that pepper accords usually provide. The middle also exhibits the appearance of a strong, rich wood accord… extremely nice, but, unfortunately, this center doesn’t hold long enough. The drydown of sandalwood, musk and amber is rich but extremely subtle and appears to be more of a skin scent than a sillage maker.

Joseph Abboud moves very quickly from opening to drydown. The scent is somewhat exotic and there is very little sweetness or floral so it presents a formidable masculinity that I find very attractive. Joseph Abboud comes across as a dignified and serious scent, even though it is subtle and muted after the opening. In spite of its short lifespan I enjoy this fragrance enough to vote a thumb’s up. (Edit of 22 February 2006 review. Changed from a neutral to a thumb’s up.)

Ordinarily I would not have purchased it, but I had a $50 gift certificate so I decided that I would take a little risk and buy something I would ordinarily pass by. The necessary department store had no niches and most of the designers did not have fragrances, so basically I was limited to Chanel, Dior, and Gucci. Nothing interested me at Dior. At Gucci I asked to test the Gucci Pour Homme by Gucci. Although there was a tester prominently displayed, both SAs told me that I couldn’t try it because they have no bottles to sell… It’s one of those things that happen here that I don’t try to figure out. So Chanel and Allure Homme Édition Blanche became my option. When I tested AHEB it seemed very light and pleasant but there was something in it that set a tiny bell ringing in the back of my head, by my head was really too busy with the thought of the Chanel SA who was assisting me, so I quickly disregarded the bell and doubled my attention on the her. On paper Allure HEB opened with a citrus accord that I would describe as “Chanel”: It’s a bit fresh but reluctantly so… and it certainly isn’t Lemon Pledge or anything coarse; it’s a stylized and sophisticated citrus with a firm element of stylized and sophisticated spice notes. The spice stays in the background at first and the scent stays soft and pleasant into its spicy / woody heart with a quiet accord of pepper, ginger, cedar, and a slight touch of sandalwood. The heart holds for over an hour and the light base of tonka, vanilla, and white musk takes over and completes the movement with excellent longevity. There is nothing spectacular going on but the performance of AHEB is quietly understated and it is certainly an attractive fragrance to wear here in East Asia where fragrances are very rare and almost always understated. I bought the fragrance and the SA aforementioned received her commission, so everything turned out as it should be. Unfortunately, by the third time I wore AHEB on my skin, my reaction to it had changed. My skin had come to magnify the creamy ginger note that moves to prominence in the opening and then it stays there until the fragrance is exhausted. Soon, the ginger is about all I can smell; it broadcasts itself with a too strong sillage for my appreciation, and it hangs on forever. I know now what that bell in my head was trying to warn me had I been paying attention: “Beware: shades of Bulgari Blu Pour Homme.” Of course AHEB is much more soft and refined than BBPH, and the creamy ginger isn’t the juggernaut that the BBPH ginger is, but… still, I could do without it in either case. If it’s not on my skin, Allure Homme Édition Blanche is an original, well-made fragrance with a pleasantly soft, creamy citrus / spicy feel and with excellent longevity. But it kind of loses control when it comes in contact with my epidermis.

I’ve found Giorgio for men to be a genuine shape-shifter. At times it responds as a beautifully balanced, rich, full masculine woody Oriental with a strongly patchouli-plus-citrus opening. It is a dry fruity / citrus and it’s wonderfully and masculinely rich and full. At other times I get a strong, boring herbal note… but herbals aren’t listed and I have no idea where that note is coming from; I don’t enjoy it. At the times I get the good vibrations in the opening, the middle notes are also excellent: Patchouli dominated, of course, with cinnamon, and a touch of rose – quite a rich, masculine scent. But on those times when the opening fails me, the middle fails me, too… it is flat and unresponsive, and I don’t understand why I’m not picking up any of the florals or the cinnamon. Under either result, the drydown is not the kind that usually captivates me because it is missing heavy woodnotes. It has, however, patchouli and moss, and I enjoy this version more than I usually enjoy the combination – it is very well done with its touch of benzoin sweetener. Whether it’s a good day or bad day, I never smell the honey. Upon experimentation I have found that the differences in the scent’s reaction seems to come from two variables: first, the skin must be freshly cleaned. Now I have long known this about patchouli fragrances, but the corruption of the patchouli doesn’t happen with every patchouli fragrance, so I often forget the sparkling clean-skin dictum. The second cause appears to be temperature. I no longer even attempt to wear Giorgio in warm or humid weather – it’s finicky and just doesn’t respond the way I want it to under stressful conditions: Cool / dry is best. If I follow the rules it’s a great fragrance. (Edit of August 28, 2008 review.)

Polo Explorer has a strongly aromatic opening, and the aromatic impact continues for the relatively speedy run of the fragrance. The cistus from the middle is likely responsible for this dominant force. It adds an aura to Polo Explorer that probably accounts for the feeling of strength and potency as well as for the implication of wood. To be honest, I really don’t think the fragrance (except for the aromatics) projects very well, and I really don’t smell the wood listed in the base of the pyramid. The sandalwood and mahogany (there’s mahogany there?) are quite recessive and the least potent elements in the entire fragrance. But the amber and patchouli come through beautifully to augment what is essentially a cistus / semi-leather fragrance with a consistent bergamot background and bit of a coriander freshness. What wood impact is there is attributable to the patchouli, and since patchouli qualifies as wood, I guess Explorer deserves the label “woody aromatic”: But it would be a clearer distinction to call it an aromatic patchouli fragrance … or, better yet, a lightweight aromatic. All that said, I must say I enjoy Explorer: This is a chancy departure for Ralph Lauren… Explorer and Polo Double Black seem to begin to show that maybe RL is again getting serious about creating decent masculine fragrances. I welcome that… it’s been a long dry spell and it would be excellent to find a deserving heir to Polo Green, Polo Crest, and Safari. (Edit of 13 September 2008 review.)

A particularly pleasing lavender fragrance—the lavender carries a strong presence… at least for the time that it lasts. And it is quite a beautiful lavender note — soaring, vibrant, clear: This is the aromatic version that I prefer over the more ubiquitous creamy lavender: I love the clear, pristine sophistication of lavender as an herb more than lavender as a floral. There are a little lemon and florals added to the lavender to round it out, but the fragrance thoroughly retains its lavender essence. The accords are beautifully balanced and proportioned. It is the longevity of Lavanda Tonica that leaves a lot to be desired—forty-five minutes at the most on my skin. It is near too expensive to have that short of duration. But it is a excruciatingly lovely, unique, and elegant lavender. (Edit of 15 October 2006 review. Changed from a neutral.)

Vetiver de Puig is a good all-around vetiver value. It’s a clear, rather simple vetiver without the citrus, the tobacco, or the price of Guerlain’s. More subtle than many others and not dependent on other notes to fulfill its vetiverian mission, Vetiver de Puig meets my requirements for a decent daytime wear. And the fact that it is not expensive contributes to the cause. I used to wear it often, because its performance was quite good, except for the occasional alcohol after-tang that sometimes occurs with its use. The vetiver accord itself is a compromise between the raw version (which I love) and the refined version (which I also love) of vetiver. Its application is not fussy. For light vetivers I have since come to prefer the vetivers presented in the traditional cologne format. I now prefer Roger and Gallet Vetyver for the casual purposes where I used to wear Puig Vetiver. R&G’s doesn’t last as long as the Puig, but it’s a better smelling, more refined, and even more wearable fragrance. (Edit of 22 August 2008 review.)

Somewhat reminiscent of J'Adore, Vera Wang for Men is more subtle than not in its green and citrus opening, and in its spicy nutmeg and leather heart. I really don’t get the anise except in a secondary sort of way, but the nutmeg and leather are present in a smooth but otherwise pedestrian accord. Whether the top or the middle, the scent is demure, sweet, pleasant, and conventional. The dry down is a wood and tobacco accord that is nice but it could use more strength and substance. Longevity is not the best — three or four hours at the most on my skin. Vera Wang for Men underperforms as far as I’m concerned, but there is nothing that I really dislike about it. It is missing that special something that makes for a thumbs up fragrance… it misses uniqueness, but it is nicely assembled, and it is quite good at suggesting that something of substance is hiding somewhere in its shallowness. (Edit of January 11, 2006 review)

Because of its touted pheromones, I expected Realm to be a joke, but there is a quality and an attractiveness about it that requires me to give it a more serious consideration. The top notes of Realm are pleasant — a rather restrained patchouli / ginger dominant accord accented by lavender and orange: It has a more fresh feeling than its notes would indicate, and it presents a more complex and interesting accord than is usual among drug store fragrances. Moving on, berry notes are added to the lavender that is growing in proportion to the rest of the notes. It’s a creamy lavender / sweet / juniper berry – a combination that I find a little less attractive than the top primarily because I’m not a fan of creamy lavender; but that is simply a matter of taste and, removing prejudice, I’d have to say that the heart accord is very well done. Realm seems to lose some vitality and variety after the heart notes. Even though it picks up some muskiness, it becomes more recessive and ambiguous in its basenotes, but that’s OK because it has reached the point where it would likely be to too gaudy if it were stronger. At any rate, regardless of its claimed pheromones, this Oriental is an attractively fresh, spicy, and light-woody fragrance. It’s a better product than most of the generic drugstore offerings. Its longevity could be better. Nice fragrance. (Edit of 07 October 2006 review)

I searched the pyramid for what might account for this harsh, chemical that I was smelling in the opening… The pyramid was no help – there was nothing in it that could account for the sharp edge. Then I read Vibert’s review and he pretty much nailed it… turpentine and camphor. There it was… turpentine… and it took fifteen minutes for it to develop into something else – into something tolerable: a rich and fully dramatic rose accord that is lightly sweet and totally engaging. The heart of the fragrance is hugely rose. A Georgia O'Keefe rose augmented by jasmine and fig leaf that fill out and provide a white border and a green frame to the exuberant rose. I’m not a huge fan of rose, but I enjoy this rose / jasmine / green combination, and it holds on to my skin providing good sillage for a more than adequate length of time. The semi-sweet base – sandalwood and white musk – moves in to center the entire fragrance. Rosa Flemenca is a dramatic fragrance whose edginess could easily have gone over the top… but it doesn’t: It is successfully filled with drama, passion, and movement. It’s ingeniously assembled and well named. (Edit of 22 November 2008 review.)

Kenzo Pour Homme is unique. I don’t know of another scent that captures the character of the sea in as remorselessly honest a way that this one does – It’s unique and odd and I’m not always sure I like it. Erolfa I thoroughly enjoy, but Erolfa is much more genteel, much less daring. Kenzo PH is sea freshness and saltiness with some of the grosser olfactory elements of the seaside allowed in. There are also some florals joining with the ozone, salt, and ambient sea odors. Kenzo also included a bit of synthetics into the mix. I love the idea of Kenzo PH’s edginess and some of the time I like its accords, but other times its almost surrealistic marine interpretation is too much for me. The comments about headaches are not really exaggerations: This scent has the ability to come on very strong and it lasts very long, so keep that in mind when applying. Erolfa and Bulgari Acqua pour Homme are much more pleasant and easier to wear, and yet there are rare times when I demand just Kenzo PH. I have had the same rather large decant for two years and it’s just more than one-half gone. I love the bottle so I will buy a bottle of KPH when my decant is gone, even though it will take years and years to finish it. (Edit of 12 November 2008 review.)

A mossy synthetic mess without one discernible saving virtue.

Snake Oil, which BPAL states is their best selling fragrance, is a very interesting scent. It opens with a dramatic spicy / resinous / smoky accord that I find enjoyable in its exotic uniqueness. I can clearly identify cloves and myrrh but there are many other notes in the mix and the whole accord is underlined by a darker, almost woody, but rather sweet vanilla. It doesn’t seem to last as long as it should before the notes begin to change places: The spices and myrrh grow weaker while the vanilla comes on more strongly. All this morphing within the accords makes for an interesting wear. The drydown is almost pure sweet-but-not-too-sweet vanilla with only a touch of rather medicinal spices in the background. Spicy resinous scents are my thing so I enjoy the opening, and I am a bit surprised at my acceptance of the loss of the spice resins and the growing dominance of the vanilla. My tolerance might be explained by the type of vanilla that is presented: I find it somewhat woody and its sweetness is a thicker, more burnt or caramel sweetness than in most fragrance vanillas, and it is nicely augmented by amber. Snake Oil has abundant sillage and decent longevity. I think it is a genuine unisex scent and it’s the third BPAL fragrance I’ve tried that I’m actually thinking of purchasing.

Oh yes, this is chypre. It opens green with a tiny support by the citrus. I think I’m getting a solid dose of galbanum, but it’s a slightly different galbanum than I am used to. There’s a touch of indole in there, too, so the jasmine is doing its proper thing. From the base I’m picking up the patchouli. The opening citrus is mild and it quickly gets even milder until it disappears... but the green holds on to its strength. In the middle, the fragrance seems to fall apart: There’s not many things happening. I get almost nothing of the florals that are supposed to be in the heart, I’ve gone through two sample tubes and I have never been able to smell the roses – or the Osmanthus or the iris. I am totally unimpressed by the base… I get not sweetness of musk or amber nor do I smell the patchouli. All I get is moss, and that is not enough to qualify as a base as far as I’m concerned. Aedes de Venustas’ Histoire de Chypre has poor projection and longevity. (Edit of 20 December 2008 review. Changed from a neutral to a thumbs down.)

I enjoy the opening of Sandalo e The: It is somewhat accurate in its name… it is wood and tea but with added citrus, herbs, and florals. The rather characterless tea / sandalwood is provided a minimum of sparkle by an orange note, a bare touch of cumin, and some rosemary and lavender. The tea is dull, and the “sandalwood” is wearing some sort of disguise. The lavender, as it so often does with me, rises to a prominence. While being quite complex, it’s an unusually bright opening for a sandalwood fragrance, and the lightness stays throughout the run of the fragrance. With the heart, the top notes are all but lost and, to me, the fragrance turns primarily floral – I get rose and geranium along with cedar wood – the florals do not last for very long at all. Except for the citrus in the opening, I don’t get any fruit notes or anything else sweet – to my nose it’s basically a wood fragrance with accouchements of temporary lavender and florals. The sillage is not strong at start and it gets softer as it goes along, so by the time the base comes around, I am having difficulty determining more than a skin scent. For what I can determine from the base, I get mainly a soft cedar, patchouli, and tobacco, with the wettish tobacco being the most dominant, but the base is so soft that the word “dominant’ hardly seems appropriate. I get no myrrh, but eventually the base fades away into a subtle sweet and wet tobacco note.

Bois 1920’s Sandalo e The doesn’t do anything for me because it comes across so weakly on my skin. The opening is enjoyable but then comes the lavender to dilute the experience, and the remainder of the fragrance comes across as weak and uninterestingly subtle.

Bright opening—strong in pepper and citrus with just enough nectarine to round out and give fullness to the accord: It’s sweet – needlessly so, I think. As the pepper and the nectarine disappear, the powdery, nutmeg spicy, floral mid notes begin to take over – it’s quite warm in tone and quite lasting, but I am disturbed by an off smell in the background. It seems like violet but no violet is listed, so it’s probably the hay note from the maté that turns me off. That note lasts about twenty minutes before the scent reorganizes itself into its renewed pleasantness. The dry down, too, is rich and long lasting dominated by patchouli, various woods and tonka. The drydown is very nice, but I don’t find anything especially unique in it: It alone is not enough to make up for that off note that I experience in the heart notes. Arpège is warm, masculine, and versatile fragrance, but for me it lacks interest and even without that off-note that is probably my aberration, I would vote it a neutral. I really don’t think it is worthy of the great Arpège name. (Edit of May 12, 2006 review.)

It is certainly difficult to expand on calchic’s review: all I can do is rigorously agree with her views. Eau de Gantier is a very soft, clean, and honest fragrance—beginning with the clear and clean citrus top, continuing through the soft and delectable blackberry / verbena heart, and further on through the smooth fruit / sandalwood base. Eau de Gantier doesn’t project very much nor does it last very long, but it’s so charming as it does what it does. This is an enticing and quality fragrance—it radiates subtle elegance and translucent panache. I think of it as a unisex fragrance—and it’s an excellent one. (Edit of 06 April 2007 review.)

Eau de Gantier is a very soft, clean, and honest fragrance—beginning with the clear and clean citrus top, continuing through the soft and delectable blackberry / verbena heart, and further on through the smooth fruit / sandalwood base. Eau de Gantier doesn’t project very much nor does it last very long, but it’s so charming as it does what it does. This is an enticing and quality fragrance—it radiates subtle elegance and translucent panache. I think of it as a unisex fragrance—and it’s an excellent one.

I owned this one in the ‘80s and loved it. It was a powerfully strong fragrance – impressive, and masculine. It came across almost too aggressively even for me, but, hey, it was the ‘80s and I received so many compliments on it. It was dry, but not stark because of the vibrant patchouli and the balanced nuance of the floral / herb mid notes. Its animalism of castoreum and leather was presented with an uncharacteristic (for the 80s) subtly. It was deep and rich with its complexity of labdanum, oak moss, and beeswax absolute. And every accord it presented whispered “Chanel.” I’ve considered repurchasing it in the past two or three years, but every time I’ve tested it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t the fragrance I had known and loved. It’s a weakened, softened version of it the original – which I could accept and even appreciate. But, in addition of the softer presence, the reformulated version seems to be missing that special Channel sophistication that I valued so much. Antaeus is still an excellent fragrance and I will grudgingly admit that it’s a much easier wear than it was before, and it’s still one of the best and most masculine designer fragrances out there, but, alas, it’s just doesn't seem to have the sophistication that it used to possess. (Edit of 14 January 2006 review.)

Orange creamsicle is right! The fragrance centers on a mouth-watering creamy vanilla and mandarin orange. It’s certainly a gourmand, but it manages a bit of control on sweet. It’s not TOO sweet, but very close to it. The orange aspect of it even seems to have an energy to it – a sparkle or effervescence that gives it extra dimension and more than a touch of uniqueness: It’s delectable. Vanilla, Bourbon & Mandarin is a charming fragrance – a bit more feminine than not in its top notes, but substantially unisex through most of its run. It has good sillage and excellent longevity. It’s fun and delightful. (Edit of December 20, 2008 review.)

Familiarity breeds contempt sometimes. I liked this at first, but luckily, I purchased only a mini of it. After three years, the mini is three-quarters full. I never realized how quickly that synthetic anise note would wear me out – faster even than the synthetic ginger note in Bulgari Blu for Men. Lolita Lempicka Au Masculin opens with a genuine gourmand accord — I can smell the violet, the praline, the anise and licorice. Sweet, sweet, sweet: It’s very sweet, and the sweetness is simplistic… except for the anise tang, it has no depth to it. The middle notes, too, are gourmand-like notes of anise and praline with an echo of the opening violet and a rum note that doesn’t really fit in except that it does encourage a masculine interpretation. The vanilla moves in with the base, and an acceptable vanilla it is; it melds with the green notes in the base to form a long-lasting green (vetiver?) / anise accord. The base is supposed to have cedar, and barley water in it, but all I get is the anise-contaminated green non-conifer accord. The synthetics of the fragrance are not at all annoying to me, and the sweet doesn’t bother me too much – I could live with it. It’s that anise note that has made me yell, “Surrender!” I can no longer handle it, but I remember enjoying it very much. It’s a very nice fragrance for someone who can enjoy several hours of anise. (Edit of May 3, 2006 review. Changed from thumbs up)

Nice opening: Well-balanced, clean, masculine, slightly aromatic… I like it in spite of the violet leaf. And the opening seems to last impressively, which is a tribute to the blending where the opening notes slowly dissolve out while the middle tea and spices dissolve in. Without realizing the movement, I’m suddenly aware that I’m smelling pimiento and cinnamon (floating) is a sea of tea… The middle level is modern, nicely performing, and, again, lasts longer than I expected. The fragrance has a solid drydown that is smooth and richer than the typical modern designer releases. It feels both warm and edgy with its primarily woody ambiance supported by a slight resinousness of myrrh and a bit of tobacco. I enjoy the drydown very much and it, too, has good longevity. Nthny is correct in that this is a lighter version of Lalique Equus. I prefer this one to Equus because of the Gucci’s de-emphasis on violet leaf and at the same time, the Gucci presents cleaner, less aromatic woods. Gucci PH II is one of the better recent releases… I admire Gucci for their ability to continually produce these great smelling and sometimes edgy fragrances that show variety, value, and taste without getting trashy cheap, generic, or “me, too.” And Gucci doesn’t resort to two dozen summer variations of the same old same old… (Edit of September 17, 2008 review.)

What a magnificent scent this is. Elegant and exotic woods, incense, and spices create a rich, sensual drama of depth and esoterica. To my nose this is primarily an incense fragrance. The other elements of the fragrance — the spices, the woods, and the florals — seem to support the incense as their main purpose, and a beautiful job they do of it, too. The incense dominates the top notes with a distinguishable saffron smoothing out the accord. The top notes last a long time with the movement going from incense and spice of the opening to the incense and woods of the middle. When the transfer is complete, the woods have replaced the spices as the dominant partner of the incense. I am intrigued by the progression of the woods in Black Cashmere — they take a rich, important, and exotic role in the fragrance, although they are rather easy to overlook with all of the more dramatic things going on. The incense note is rather linear to my nose — all the movement of this fragrance seems to be accomplished by the spices and woods. This is an utterly beautiful fragrance: It is at once powerful and subtle. Intelligent and mystic, it is an experience and a meditation. At first I thought that this was a short lasting fragrance, but my situation was temporary anosmia: I couldn’t smell it after continual sniffing. But when I actually began to wear it, things have changed. The fragrance lasts for over eight hours, so I have to apologize for the remarks about its lack of longevity. Black Cashmere is strong and woody and incensy and long lasting. If you like that sort of thing, this could be the one. It is for me … (Edit of 09 April 2006 review.)

A light, rounded mandarin citrus, which opens up moderately spicy with ginger and cardamom. And yes, I think there is some pepper in there even though it isn’t listed. Then the spices from the middle enter in and I get a definite clove and cinnamon along with a rather basic tea note and a floral. I can’t really tell, but I will take their word that the floral is lotus flower – I believe the floral isn’t meant as an individual floral note, but simply to round out and provide a platform for the tea and spices. The drydown is a light, mellow sandalwood. I guess I join a long list of reviewers who don’t smell the chocolate – I don’t even get a hint of it. When Omnia is smelled close to the skin, most of these notes are quite clear, pure, and strong, and I admire that. They don’t, however, give off a lot of sillage, and they create a somewhat translucent fragrance that is a genuine delight. (Edit of September 29, 2008 review.)

Un Parfum de Charmes et Feuilles, meaning “charms and leaves,” I believe. It is one of those fragrances that has grown in my estimation as I have been testing it. My first test brought shock at its strength. I thought it was heady and super-flowery and that it smelled old fashioned. Second time it was much better – quite strong but with pleasant, refined floral accord: Jasmine I think, but I couldn’t be sure because it’s in a well-integrated accord that makes it smoothly, richly textured. After several tests, Un Parfum de Charmes et Fueilles still begins strong, but the intensity of the sillage immediately drops to an acceptable level – and soon after that, becomes positively balanced. The fact that I still can’t identify any of the floral notes except for the jasmine continues to bother me: I have the feeling that I should be able to identify those excellent wisps of floral essence that come across intermittently… orange blossom is highly possible... The opening accord has grown to be a serious challenge for me, and I think that maybe it’s the marjoram that is responsible for that unique treatment of citrus and floral that I am experiencing. The leafy herbs - peppermint, thyme, and sage - provide not an herbal ambiance, but that rustic green and patchouli platform that comes to dominate the fragrance. Those herbs add an attractively palpable earthy dimension to the elegantly direct floral accords: This uncomplicated fragrance provides minimalism with a winsome bucolic shadow done with deft artistry. Charming. (Edit of 07 September 2008 review.)

Not a very complex or trend-setting fragrance—citrus, then spice, then strong on amber. It has a very simple and generic construction, quite synthetic but not disgustingly so. There is little refinement and even less innovation in the opening, and it presents a third rate anise / citrus accord. In the middle accord, the individual spice notes are neither clearly delineated nor refined. With the base, all that really comes through is a weak, common, amber note shadowed by…something else. The scent doesn’t last long. Boss Soul is rather typical Boss fragrance, but, instead of the usual thumbs down, I’m voting it neutral simply because it is better than many of the other Hugo Boss miscreants. (Edit of August 28, 2008 review)

Lots of black pepper in the opening—it’s very prominent and the rest of the notes seem to just provide background. Personally, I like it the way the pepper is used — it adds a somewhat near elegance to the fragrance and it reminds me a little of the opening of Heritage. The pepper is just one of the spices that join with the bergamot to create the spicy / citrus opening: cardamom and ginger are identifiable, too. The heart notes are spice, florals, and conifers. The vanilla from the base is present even in the opening, but it never seems to become an overly sweet fragrance. Diesel is a very nice scent. It doesn’t smell like a mid ‘90s creation: It seems to have some characteristics of the ‘80s. It has a decent dry down—musk, thyme, tonka and vanilla: a bit more presence in the drydown than was typical for the ‘90s lower end designer fragrances. It has the conglomerate accords of the 90’s, but the notes themselves are comparatively non-synthetic and more classic than the popular 90’s frags. Good longevity. Diesel is a very nice fragrance, and I place it somewhere between a neutral and a thumbs up. (Edit of March 10, 2008 review.)

My sister-in-law sold Avon products back in the day, so of course, for good will in the family I purchased stuff from her. I bought Tribute as a “collector bottle.” It is in the shape of the head of a helmeted Roman centurion (actually, to me it looks more pseudo-Etruscan than pseudo-Roman): dark blue bottle with a chrome helmet. The after-shave opens cologny but quickly settles down to a rather quiet sweet wood accord with a green and floral background in a well-balanced composite accord. It is really quite pleasant in a very ‘60s sort of way – which I can get away with because it smells so good on me – lots of compliments on this one. Of course, as an after-shave it lasts for all of fifty minutes, and it doesn’t have a drydown, but it’s really a pleasant, masculine, ‘60s scent. I still have it after forty plus years (including thirty years in storage). Maybe it’s the nostalgia, but I often find it pleasant to wear and the bottle is so camp. For the memories, for the kitsch bottle, for the compliments, I think Tribute deserves a thumb’s up. (Edit of May 9, 2008 review.)

Ma Griffe is an excellent green chypre that I have been familiar with for years – I had a couple of aunts who wore this. I don't believe that the modern version smells as good as the one I remember – those reformulation issues, you know. This latest PDT version of Ma Griffe is still very nice, though. It opens with a strong aldehydic green – I get no florals in the opening, and I find the accord very refreshing and bright. It immediately settles down and soon the gardenia and jasmine emerge carrying with them their strong indole notes, and the indoles are definitely welcome in the mixture. The heart notes are quite floral but they manage to present themselves without becoming at all flowery. Of the florals, it is strongest with gardenia and ylang-ylang, and here, especially, is where the modern version of Ma Griffe isn’t as good as the original. Except for the assertive indoles, Ma Griffe is a rather delicate fragrance. It still has superior longevity, and remains charming and unique. (Edit of March 10, 2008 review.)

I find this a beautiful, if generically traditional, fragrance. It opens aldehydic with a green and a bitter-orange leaf accord – much more green than citrus: Quite impressive and very sniffable in a classic way. The middle is classically predictable, too. It’s an iris, conifer, and floral accord, with jasmine and rose comprising the florals… nothing edgy in it, but very well done and quite sniffable. The base? No surprise here either: patchouli, sandalwood, and musk. Traditionally sophisticated ingredients, classic proportions… L’Eau du Tailleur is an excellently tailored fragrance from top to bottom and it has good sillage, good longevity, and strong masculinity in a superiorly generic package. Worthy fragrance... don’t expect uniqueness... don’t expect to be wowed… you have to content yourself with a well-made, nicely performing, attractive fragrance. (Edit of 17 September 2008 review.)

Not bad at first. The celery note doesn’t bother me, and there’s some warmth—some pleasantness in the opening accord. But when the second volley comes in, so do the synthetics. 360 Degrees Blue has that cheap drugstore vibration—especially in its use of lavender. The accords are artificial and gaudy. In the drydown, I don’t get much wood and none of the incense that is supposedly in it, which is too bad because I could have used a relief from the unattractive lavender accords. 360 Degrees Blue is poorly done. The original men’s 360 Degrees is an acceptable fragrance—this one isn’t. And, as far as Drakkar Noir is concerned, this is even more annoying than Drakkar. (Edit of 04 March 2007 review)

Fleurs de Chocolat Mikado begins fresh — I guess the mint makes it so, but the mint and vanilla are so temporary … I have to say that at least the mint and vanilla last long enough to show a cursory respect to the company’s name. The chocolate moves in on the fresh bergamot, vanilla, and mint immediately, and it isn’t long before the chocolate is dominant. And what a chocolate this is! This is the chocolate of my dreams — dark chocolate, deliciously bitter chocolate, not the waxy, wimpy, sweet, milk chocolate. Instead of being cloying, the chocolate in Mikado is absolutely tempting, utterly luscious. I don’t get any tea, but tea never did go with chocolate, anyway. Assisted a bit by the pomegranate and amber, the chocolate still is in almost complete charge of the accord … Chocolate in its primal glory.

And that’s pretty much it … it lasts and lasts, giving a linear identity and an acceptable longevity to this fabulous chocolate note. Just as I always choose the rich dark chocolate over the milk chocolate variety in my deserts, I would choose this one over the over other chocolate fragrances I’ve encountered, if I were a person who enjoys smelling like chocolate, which I could very well become because of this scent. (Edit of 20 November 2007 review)

Obsession is sensual, quirky, and perfectly named—the fragrance carries, deep in its smoldering heart, the story of consuming passion. It tells of the chaos of the onslaught of desire, then the beloved obsession. But the obsession is not really ‘beloved,’ it exists in the state of stressful insecurity—always being stalked by an existential frigidity that surrounds and gnaws: Amelioration and dissatisfaction bound together in a Yin-Yang existence. The conflict between the floral warmth and the pine indifference is palpably stressful, but it is also promising and tempting (and truthful). The final movement of the fragrance is one of wistfulness, poignancy, and ennui, when, at the very peak of fulfillment, the renewal of vague hungerings is already reoccuring.

Whether it’s the one for men or the one for women, Obsession looms large: Obsession for Men is a classic of almost mythic standing from it chaotic opening to its to-die-for drydown. Like many of the greater works of art, it has an element of duality — a study in the condition of opposites. The coexistence of its warmth and chilliness has been mentioned several times, rightly so. The conflict of the citrus, lavender, and green notes in the opening immediately forces the observant wearer to wonder what is going on. It opens with confusion and the confusion in the top is not at all contradictory to a fragrance named “Obsession”: It is fitting and poignant. In the transition from the top notes to the mid notes, I can smell some possible gourmand notes. Almost every time I wear it, I get definite hints of chocolate in the middle, and if that’s true, then this was a fragrance way ahead of its time. The middle is spicy and warm and somewhat sweet, with an icicle of pine stabbing through it in continuance of its duality; this beautiful and unique accord lasts for ages. The dry down of sandalwood / amber / vanilla / and wood is rich, balanced and refined. Its richness is opposed and balanced by the exactly right touch of sweetness, and it always is properly proportioned. It is one of the best dry downs I’ve experienced, and it lasts of hours. I personally don’t find it outdated, but I can understand that some might. (Edit 20 December 2005 review)

The ORIGINAL 1981 "Oscar de la Renta Pour Lui" has been relabeled “Pour Lui” and with that relabling there apparently has been a reformulation. The Pour Lui – the one being sold recently – according to others is significantly different (weaker) from the original ‘80’s powerhouse. This review is of the ORIGINAL 1981 Oscar de la Renta Pour Lui:

I think this is one of the most powerful fragrances I own — it boasts sillage that has the potential to fill a room if I’m not careful in application. It has twenty-hour longevity. Its accords are old school, harmonious, and bold. It opens with less intensity than the later stages — aldehydic, green, spicy, and citric notes in an excellent combination that doesn’t really psychologically prepare me for what follows. The potency increases drastically in the mid notes, which are floral, green, and coniferous with green and coniferous dominating over the florals — this stage is sharp and abundantly full of aromas. The sharpness of the middle notes is softened and made darker by the incense and moss from the base, which is a combination accord with no note dominating to my nose — well, possibly the incense… The base is the richest and most sensual level of the fragrance; it is addictive and it holds on for hours. I think Oscar de la Renta Pour Lui is a excellent fragrance... it's a powerhouse if ever there was one. It's a fragrance that has stopped in time and reminds us of the abundance, organicness, and drama of our past. I don’t wear it as often as I’d like because I usually find it just too much for me for most occasions, but I treasure it - especially as a symbol. (Edit of 03 February 2007 review.)

I don’t get “sweet” from this: “Sweet” often has a difficult time escaping from my ravenous skin. I also don’t smell the citrus notes or the mint that are supposed to be in the opening according to the pyramid. I get fir and spices. The cloves, cumin and fir from the heart notes come through immediately upon spraying; they become an almost incense accord that is lighter, gentler, and longer lasting than the usual incense in a fragrance. This spicy incense / fir continues for a very decent length of time right into the drydown which is fir-y / woody with a strong sweet tobacco note added. I thoroughly enjoy the fir-y, tobacco-y natural smelling drydown. Since Baldessarini is a cologne, it doesn’t last as long as a typical EDT, but its longevity is good for an EDC. Except for the addition of tobacco in the drydown, Baldessarini is rather linear to my nose – but it’s an excellent linear. It doesn’t seem Oriental to me because the sweet notes – amber and musk – don’t come through strongly in the drydown, I see this as an excellent woody-tobacco scent. I was originally hesitant to buy it because it seemed over-priced to me, but now that the cost has come down, I see it as a very good investment and a welcome addition to my wardrobe. (Edit of the February 21, 2007 review.)

Very sharp and quite synthetic pine and rosemary notes predominate in the opening with an aromatic presence. It’s not very enjoyable. It’s very hard to differentiate the levels of the pyramid with this fragrance because it claims so many coniferous notes: pine, sequoia, and cedar. Beverly Hill’s Man is extremely linear, which works with some scents that have interesting accords—but Man doesn’t have such accords. Man (the fragrance not the masculine gender) lacks depth and character. If you can get past the synthetic ambiance, it might be a good scent for anyone wishing to smell sort of like a pine - cedar forest without spending major dineros. (Edit of 29 August 2006 review.)

Molinard de Molinard is a fine floral / green fragrance. I don’t really get much in the nature of the listed top notes: I get floral and green right from the beginning. To my nose the florals dominate over a fairly strong clean, green element in the background. It’s a well-blended fragrance: I can clearly identify neither the florals (I think I can find the rose and jasmine; the pyramid adds narcissus, and ylang-ylang) nor the green (the pyramid says galbanum). The mix is given character by a black current note that does an excellent job of toning down and rounding off the florals and the green. The whole of the top (?) and middle forms one accord that is soft, warm and long lasting. The drydown is a sweet, light wood — amber and patchouli and vetiver; again, I can’t really separate out the vetiver and patchouli, except that I get in the drydown a strong sensual element that might be coming from the patchouli. These accords are gorgeously feminine but they are not exactly wispy and translucent — they hold a definite presence so care in application is advised. Molinard de Molinard is an extrovertedly beautiful and sensual feminine fragrance. (Edit of October 15, 2006 review.) 183

The first time I wore this fragrance I loved it. Since then I have developed a strong reaction against many leather notes, and KL Homme was the first one whose leather note turned on me and became destructively repugnant. I still remember how rich and vibrant it was when I first tried it. I should have paid more attention to the interference with my breathing that I had experienced - it was sending me a message. (Edit of May 6, 2006 review. Changed from a thumb’s up.)

ORIGINAL REVIEW: An unmitigated rosewood in the top notes accounts for most of the massiveness. It is rather easy to determine the heavier individual notes in this—rosewood, definitely; cedar wood, most assuredly; sandalwood, uh-huh; civet, loeather, oh yes—for sure; rose, probably. All these dense notes are so apparent. As to the lighter notes, there’s probably some citrus in the beginning (rosewood always overpowers citrus to my nose), some aldehydes show up after fifteen minutes or so. And after that a few florals begin to fade in—not to forget some patchouli and musk. This is the heaviest designer fragrance I’ve encountered. The first ten minutes are so oppressive I almost have trouble breathing, and I really love this juice. 06 May 2006

The surprising opening smells pink / purple to me: It’s syrupy sweet and surrealistically rosy. I’m more shocked than impressed because I really don’t know what to make of it. Then there’s an acidic sharpness that comes immediately after spraying. It’s green and quite a bit harsh, but I’m not complaining, because I like it better than I like the uberpinkpurple rose note. I get rose, but to my nose it’s quite a cheap, fake rose note – pink… errr… purple – actually one of the most undesirable rose notes I’ve smelled in fragrances – bubble-gummy sweet. This rose note is tenacious and domineering and selfish – it won’t allow me to smell the other notes in the accord. I even lose that sharp green of the opening. My nose is not interpreting the notes of this fragrance very well, I’m afraid. I usually get along with Diptyque fragrances excellently, but this one I have to vote a thumb’s down. (Edit of 09 December 2006 review.)

Sergio Tacchini is a light citrus / green / wood fragrance. It opens citrusy and minty with a bit of Lemon Pledge. The synthetic tinge to the citrus isn’t disagreeable, but I’ve smelled better attempts at this kind of opening – but the better ones were always in much more expensive fragrances. The citrus / minty accord lasts for quite a while before it switches to a soft and mellow sandalwood base. The base is not earth shattering, but it is competent. Sergio Tacchini is a well-made and well-balanced fragrance with excellent longevity. It performs dependably and it is quite inexpensive. There is nothing in the fragrance that is extra special except for its quality to price ratio. It is a pleasant, soft, reliable fragrance at a very reasonable price. (Edit of 07 October 2006 review. Changed from thumbs up.)

Ahhh, Fahrenheit! Famous and infamous. That strange motor oil overlay to the topnotes? Intriguing! Citrus and motor oil: who would have thought that citrus and motor oil would work? The top notes are almost surreal. In fact, the first time I smelled it, years ago, I though it was completely synthetic. Little did I know then that the next decade would bring scores and scores of REAL synthetic fragrances. Comparatively, smelling Fahrenheit now, I find it so natural—so real, motor oil and all. I think the violet leaves are the key to this fragrance—they form that potent note that is carried all the way through to the end. They unify and center the fragrance—pull all the edgy notes together into a coherent whole. (The violet leaf, unfortunately, is what keeps me from buying and wearing the fragrance anymore – just don’t like violet leaf.) The base is excellent: It is subtle and sensual with musk, leather and a minimum of sweetness from amber and tonka. Fahrenheit is a excellent fragrance. Its unusual motor oil accords project beautifully and have incredible staying power. Like Kouros and Polo and Azzaro, Fahrenheit has managed to stay on the best selling lists for two decades. I can understand why. (Edit of 08 April 2006 review.)

I like the basil-lemon-petitgrain opening—it’s quite agreeable even though it has some of that Lemon Pledge thing going for it. With Eau Pour Homme I seem to suffer olfactory fatigue very quickly, and have to avoid sniffing it for a fifteen minutes time-out before I am able to smell it again. I can’t determine much difference between the top and mid notes. I don’t seem to pick up on the lavender or spices in the middle, but the accords are pleasant, if not memorable. The dry down, though, is a gentle and decorous wood / moss accord that is attractive, endearing, but doesn't last as long as it should.

I remember trying this out in the early 90’s and liking it… but I didn’t like it enough to replace Eau Sauvage - which I had been wearing for twenty-five years. I still would like to love at least one Armani fragrance, and this is one of the few possible candidate. In many ways it’s a pleasing fragrance and I find very little to dislike in it, but for whatever reason, I don’t like it enough to purchase a bottle. There are better fragrances of its type out there. (Rewrite of 28 May 2006 review.)

Well, there wouldn’t be so many negative comments if it weren’t so popular. Personally, I think it’s a nice fragrance with plenty enough good qualities: It’s well made, competently structured… has the right amount of sillage and has good longevity. Its aquatics are fresh, light, clean and they don’t demand a lot of care in application. Acqua di Gio is easy to wear, and it’s non-irritating to others except to those who can’t understand how this “mediocrity” achieved so much success. Oh, it has flaws, too: It’s not very dramatic, it’s ubiquitous, and as with many things Armani, it’s too expensive for what it delivers. Its popularity has made it a classic and thirty years from now people will probably be saying, “Now THERE was a fragrance! They just don’t make them like Acqua di Gio anymore.” (Edit of 12 January 2006 review.)

There’s little doubt that this is one of the most important men’s fragrances of recent times. The chocolate note in A*men brought sweet gourmand into the masculine mainstream, and the coffee note and the creamy lavender in the top of A*Men’s pyramid were touches of brilliance. The caramel note didn’t hurt, either. These notes are done well with a natural feel to them. A*Men is a true gourmand and for the first time, a masculine gourmand fragrance became successful -- the public went for it big time. But the gourmand elements weren’t the only strong points. The middle and the base levels of A*men are as good as or better than the top gourmand accords. The middle level comes through as woody – patchouli and cedar – with very pleasant masculine accords, good sillage,, and very good longevity. The base is inspired; it’s one of the best bases of all the fragrances of recent years IMHO: it's warm, sweet, rich, in its partial gourmandness… coffee, tonka, musk, and styrax… good refinement, very good projection, excellent longevity. I suspect that many of the young wearers of A*men were likely experiencing something they hadn’t experienced before: a well made fragrance that the ladies loved and that stayed great smelling for hours. Its gourmandness doesn’t offer the kind of accords that I like to wear, but A*men is finely made, creative, and interesting. (Edit of the 10 January 2006 review. Changed from neutral.)

The first explosion of rose note is a favorite interpretation of roses in my experience with fragrances. I love the particular timbre of it, but it is a little stronger than I ordinarily would prefer for my personal use – especially upon initial application. It settles down nicely but, once settled, the rose note seems to become a bit flat and somewhat washed out… Not content to stay that way, the rose eventually goes musky and powdery. When I first tested Rose Opulente, the jasmine and berries from the heart accord came through beautifully to add balance and clarity to the potent rose, but now they seem to have diminished and the rose note no longer yields to balance – it stays too prominent for my personal preferences. Even in the drydown, the sandalwood gets lost where it used to have a real presence. I still find Rose Opulente a quite nice rose scent, but I miss the sparkle and definition and superior rose note that I experienced when I first tested it. My bottle is the newer style so my increasingly neutral reaction might be the result of a reformulation issue. (Edit of 24 May 2007 review.)

I enjoy Envy: I find it uncomplicatedly pleasant. In the several years that I’ve worn it, I haven’t discovered a note in it that wasn’t obvious the first time I tested it. Envy has no hidden layers to discover — it does not have that Mona Lisa smile. Envy doesn’t move and develop as many other scents do — it’s quite linear and it is an lovable linear wood / ginger accord. It smells like Envy at the first blast, the middle holds excellently for a long time and smells like…Envy. Hours and hours later, the last olfactory molecules rising from the skin offer the faint remnants of… Envy. Even though it is not an intellectual or challenging fragrance, Envy continually and continuously triggers in me an appreciatively spontaneous: ‘Damn, I smell good.’ Unsophisticated and lacking in complexity it is; but it is also a warm, wearable compliment magnet. It has one of the most pleasant smelling aromas in my designer arsenal. (Edit of 10 January 2006 review)

As is often the case with fragrances with strong wood notes, I don’t pick up any opening citrus except that there’s a fresh sharpness to the pine in the opening accord that most likely is attributable to citrus notes. The opening I perceive is a unique wood / lavender accord: Unique in the sense that it is not at all mass market or plebian: It has a blue-blooded air about it. It, in fact, is as snobbish in its use of wood, moss, and lavender as Penhaligan’s Blenheim Bouquet is in BB’s use of citrus, lavender, and pine. This wood / moss accord in Sandringham is not what I would call refined or sophisticated — it’s more rustic and demanding. It’s a unique accord that obliges respect while it flaunts attitude — a self-assured panache incorporated into a potent streak of well-rehearsed aloofness. Of course these attitude notes have a certain country elegance about them, but there is more attitude than style. Sandringham is fairly linear and there is basically only one wood / moss accord and that particular accord accomplishes everything. It is as tenacious as it is as imposing. There is no letup for hours — except for the gradual reduction of its swagger as time goes by. Woods are my favorite category of fragrance, but Sandringham is so much more than an excellent wood scent: It is an arch-alpha male personality. (Edit of 24 April 2007 review.)

The opening is lavender / citrus / green; it tends to feel a little perfumy to me – out of date. I blame it on the combination of lavender, geranium, and, especially, basil – the three of which form a long established classic masculine combination, and I think that a basil note is very difficult to employ in perfumery. This objection is nothing that can’t be handled because the perfumy nature doesn’t last long and the opening becomes quite attractive. The middle is a finely structured spice / floral accord which features an exquisitely utilized clove, bay rum, and jasmine. I am so pleased to find a classic fragrance that makes such fine use of bay rum – but I’m disappointed that the lavender still seems to hang around – the middle would be better without it. The base has too much leather for me, which is a shame because the base certainly didn’t need as much leather as it has because the amber, moss, labdanum, and (an excellent) oilbanum could easily form a full, rich accord without the leather. The fragrance doesn’t last as long as it should. I’m not as attracted to this as I was when I first tested it, but I enjoy it occasionally. The bottle is still one of my favorites. (Edit of 13 September 2006 review. Changed from a thumbs up.)

The Cartier name, as usual, signifies quality and sophistication if not innovation. Cartier’s Le Baiser du Dragon opens powerfully enough to be off-putting, but in five minutes it settles down to something sophisticated. To my nose, the almond takes prominence in a bitter almond / sweet accord. The bitterness skillfully counterbalances the sweetness of the opening. The notes aren’t subtle, but the balance of notes IS subtle – a subtlety that often fools me because I miss some of the refined background movements that are so important to this complex fragrance. The bitter almond / somewhat sweet accord holds the center, with the florals, patchouli, and liquornote in the background. As in most Cartier fragrances, the movements between levels are remarkably smooth. The top seamlessly moves to a rose / coniferous / patchouli heart accord. The patchouli and the rose partner to provide a sensual earthiness that is so good it’s disarming… possibly even disorienting. The cedar is a trickster – its relationship to the rose is minimal but it combines with the patchouli and the vetiver from the base to provide an almost incense note. This middle accord is completely beautiful as far as I’m concerned. (If I were the perfumer, this is where I would have ended it, because it would have been a fantastic unisex fragrance.) With the base, a strong and attractive feminine element is incorporated into the movement. Iris is brought into the picture – a very powdery iris. Concurrent with the powder abundancy, the sensuous patchouli makes its move toward prominence. The background patchouli had been apparent from the start, but now it eases into the foreground with its earthy sensuousness in full bloom. The result is a patchouli / vetiver / benzoin / amber base which provides a long lasting sensual, almost skanky, but close-to-the-skin drydown. This is an intriguing fragrance. (Edit of April 26, 2006 review. Changed from neutral.)

This has a rather interesting opening; it smells something like cream soda (I used to love that stuff... haven’t tasted it in years). The cream soda in the opening of Boss in Motion has a chemical smell to me, but actually it’s not the worst synthetic I’ve encountered. The middle level is supposed to have a whole list of spices, but I don’t smell the listed pepper or cinnamon or cardamom. What I get out of the mid notes of this fragrance is the beginning of a headache. Nor do I smell any of the drydown… the scent disappears on me in forty minutes -- that’s a very good thing. (Edit of 17 October 2005 review.)

My first sample of Purple Label was bad – I should have known it because it was almost impossible for a legitimate fragrance to be as watery and insipid as that sample was. I have finally received another sample of it and now it’s a different story: I found some actual substance to the fragrance. The opening is green and fruity – rather sweet, nothing special, very typical of its contemporary fragrances… maybe a little more pleasant and more competently accomplished. The fragrance goes quite floral in the middle – the pyramid reads tobacco blossom and jasmine with sage and thyme, but if the sage and thyme are meant to reduce the floral impact, it doesn’t work. I don’t get the herbs at all, which is strange because usually my skin destroys floral notes and emphasizes herb notes. The base is a little woody, a little suede, and a lot musky. This final accord, like the rest of the fragrance, is uninspired: Mahogany just doesn’t have the substance to make it as a woodnote, and I’ve never been impressed by soft musks as a somewhat solo drydown. All of the accords of the fragrance are natural smelling – I don’t determine any synthetic notes. The whole fragrance has very limited sillage and below average longevity.

OK. This second sample shows a much better fragrance than the first sample presented – I can actually smell this one and it is pleasant. I am still not impressed with Purple Label because it is not original and it has a premium price when it is simply a competent, decent fragrance. (Edit of April 8, 2006 review. Changed from thumbs down.)

This is a strong, pungent, aromatic, wood / spice fragrance. It seems to be basically linear. Its single accord is dominated by cedar with a deep, dark spice combination creating the aromatics and providing support. There is detectable patchouli, which further contributes to Red’s density… The patchouli is shadowy to my nose, and it is probably the lightest element in the whole composition. Cuba Red is heavy and a bit unyielding and it would be much more interesting if it also exhibited some movement or adaptability. Linearity isn’t always a bad thing in a fragrance, but in the case of Cuba Red, I find it a bit boring. Its boredom, however, is reduced by its lack of longevity. (Edit of 29 August 2006 review. Changed from Thumbs down.)

Trussardi Uomo, I believe, has been reformulated as most of the ‘80s classics and near classics have. It used to be rich, dark, and compelling – everything aiming at the deep, dry leathery, smoky delineation of masculinity that was prevalent in the ‘80s. When I emptied the bottle of the original Trussardi Uomo, I purchased a new bottle without testing, and my disappointment was major. The reissued Trussardi Uomo, while still remaining noticeably strong, has been greatly reduced in darkness and richness; it’s been sweetened and light-weighted – metro-maled. Its complexity has been simplified to the point where it has become an uncomplicated, non-challenging linear cliché. It is still quite strong, compared to the typical modern offering, and I must give credit to its drydown: The new drydown is good, and I enjoy it. But the drydown, like the rest of the fragrance, is not the complex dynamo that it was fifteen years ago. The acceptable drydown doesn’t stop me from feeling disappointment when I first spray it on or when I am waiting for the original’s aggressive floral / honey elegance. It is so sad what has happened to this (and to many of the other great fragrances). (Edit of 15 April 2006 review. Thumbs up for the original, thumbs down for the reissue.)

15 April 2006 review review of the original 1984 TRUSSARDI UOMO:

Trussardi Uomo begins powerfully with green with some citrus and aldehydes: The gin berries seem to take prominence. The richness of the fragrance is apparent at the first instant of application; its dry darkness is compelling. The heart notes bring elegance into the equation by softening the intensity of the opening and adding spices, powder, florals (rose), and a touch of honey: This is true elegance—one that knows its superiority and does not have to shout. The dry down is to die for. A rich classic leather / musk / moss / patchouli that envelopes the wearer in a presence rather than distributing a sillage—more taste, more elegance, especially with the smoky / incensy ambiance in the background. Trussardi Uomo has a compelling, luxurious opacity.

When I decided to test this one, it was with the idea that I probably wouldn’t like it because it would be a letdown after the excellence of the first Guess? Man, which I consider an excellent fragrance. The new Guess is nothing like the 1991 Guess Man, and it is as generic as I thought it would be. Version 2006 opens with a lavender / green apple / ozone accord that is fresh, quite spicy, a little green, and very synthetic. I get quite a sour note that is off-putting – it’s a note that seems as if the apple in “green apple” has gone a bit rotten. The list of spices in the heart accord (especially the ginger) sounds as if the spices could get out of control, but they don’t – no chance of anything in this fragrance going uncontrolled except the synthetics. With the base, the synthetics become a little weaker. Its longevity is better than that of most of its competition. This is not a horrendously bad fragrance, but it is a huge, huge letdown from the original Guess Man. (Edit of 14 October 2007 review. Changed from thumbs up.)

I am immediately struck by the hazelnut and honey — an out-of-the-ordinary combination that pleases me every time I apply it: More than a bit enigmatic, a little sweet, and yet, so comfortably, naturally warm... Méchant Loup develops further by adding an equal part of cedar and a bit of anise, creating an unusual near-sweet, slightly aromatic accord veiled in a subtle smokiness. This smokiness also contributes to the fragrance’s rustic and warm eccentricity. Yes, I smell the wet fur note, and it fits well with the rest of the fragrance — it’s another page in the Méchant Loup story. For me the dry down goes very sweet—the honey dominates with the cedar and hazelnut coming in a distant second and third: the sweetness nicely completes the fragrance’s development. Méchant Loup has excellent longevity, and is easy to wear. As unique as it is, it performs with incredible consistency and predictability. It is sensual and elegant and endearing — possibly mythic. (Edit of 22 February 2006 review.)

A somewhat spicy, aromatic, fresh scent, I would guess. Hugh Parsons opens with a citrus / berry / pepper accord that is clean, a bit too sharp, aromatic, and not really unique. It’s a bit of a messy opening, but, fortunately, the opening doesn’t represent the rest of the fragrance: in fact, the slight mess is the complete opposite of the rest of the fragrance which is refined, discreet, and elegant. Hugh parsons Traditional Blue is a light fragrance that offers a desirable complexity and movement that make the middle and base levels worth waiting for. With the heart notes, Hugh Parsons Blue takes on the clean ambiance of a subtle angelica, cardamom, and juniper. The angelica is perfect, the cardamom doesn’t exhibit any of its wayward bodily emittance potentialities, and the juniper is just a tiny bit too strong to my nose. It is a dry accord, rich but not strong, and a bit aromatic. It an excellently refined accord that signifies taste and quiet sophistication. The base follows with a smooth, subtle wood / ambergris that is captivating and superbly wearable.

Except for the first ten minutes of the opening, all the accords are balanced and refined, and the individual notes are quite clear and natural. The freshly cleaned shirt image fits this fragrance quite well: I find that Hugh Parsons Traditional beautifully serves the same purpose as the understated and excellent scents such as Gendarme and Bvlgari Pour Homme – scents to use on those occasions when a high quality, discreet fragrance is the order of the day. It’s quiet cleanliness made it one of my most worn scents when I lived in East Asia, and it is still one of my favorite subtle scents after all these years. (Edit of March 27, 2006 review)

Deep, heavy, dark, and brooding with its camphorousness, birch tar, and other resinous projections – Zagorsk has an incredibly negative attitude. From within the Gothic charred fumes of centuries-old wood and smoke, rise the violet and more birch tar: and those two are the stuff nightmares are made of, as far as I’m concerned. The birch tar and the violet are just too much for me, and have me pleading for mercy – promising to be good – and scrubbing my skin at the same time. When I first sampled Zagorsk, I loved its Gothicness, so I bought a decant. By the fifth wearing, I could no longer tolerate it – the birch tar and violet leaf soon had me screaming: "surrender!" (Edit of May 20, 2006 review. Changed from thumbs up.) 110

Sorry. This deleted review was meant to be posted on the Demeter's Earl Gray page.

Sorry. Incorrect posting, (And now I have to write more for this edit to be accepted.)

Liquid Halloween!

“Jack” obviously stands for Jack-O-Lantern because it has a real pumpkiny thing going for it: a sweet, buttery, acorn-squashy pumpkiny thing. It’s an interesting smell: I enjoy the smell of a pumpkin as I’m cutting eyes and teeth into it: It is fresh and clean with a vegetable / fruity tinge to it. It’s smell is as clean as a cucumber note but more complicated... not as neutral. And butter... Jack emits plenty of butter. This is a fun fragrance: the kind that I figure that that would almost demand a costume party or something like that for wearing. I don’t see myself wearing it to the office or the club. (Edit of October 8, 2008 review.)

The opening is incredible. It is soft, airy, aromatic, and beautiful… and I have a difficult time telling what it is. Someone said root beer, and I believe that that is fairly close to the right description – a smooth, non-sweet, near root beer, possibly anise, richness underscored by a gentle, incognito myrrh. It gradually – very gradually – shifts to lose its implied rooty sweetness to take on the more salient characteristics of myrrh. Then the heart presents a soft but astringent resinousness that could only be a refined, silky smooth myrrh. It is subtle and stays close as a wonderfully transparent and resinous skin scent. Much later a quiet oriental base shows itself with its amber, honey, and musk, and, retaining some of the original resin, holds for an hour or two. This is truly a unique fragrance, not really my idea of an Oriental, but it’s amazing. La Myrrhe performs close to my skin with minimal sillage and almost adequate longevity. Thumbs way, way up. (Edit of 26 December 2008 review)

I first smelled Himalaya when it came out and I thought it was an impressive fragrance. I recognized its similarity to XS, which I had already owned, and I contented myself with sticking with the one I already had. I have now exhausted my XS, so I thought I would check out Himalaya again. Things have changed in the intervening time and I am no longer impressed by this fragrance. It now comes across, as other reviewers have mentioned, as quite generic and ordinary. Although it is as well made as the other Creeds, it suffers more than most of them from an embedded mediocrity. The improvement in aroma over XS (XS has more of a synthetic tone, which I find insignificant) is quickly undone by Himalaya’s lesser sillage and longevity. Himalaya is a pleasant fragrance but nothing special or exciting. (Edit of 11 January 2006 review. Changed from thumbs up.)

Caltha’s review describes quite clearly what I experienced with this fragrance: I get a thickness of some sweet bubblegumish synthetic held in some kind of chaotically opaque matrix. “Lavender” is dominant, and I often find lavender annoying but in this case it is neither annoying not attractive… it is alien, suspicious… almost mutant. That lavender note is close to being “right” but it just isn’t… and it gives the feeling that it will never be right because it is so determinedly just barely on the wrong side of bazaar and synthetic. I was expecting green, but what I get is this unclear, sweetish density whose dominant effect is rather odd. The sweetness of the fragrance is also indeterminate and amorphous: to my nose there are several things in the Rêverie au Jardin is just a bit off – but not the drydown. The drydown is a soft, elegant sandalwood / cedar wood / vetiver sweetened a little by a discreet amber; it stays close to the skin and has excellent lasting ability. (Edit of 16 March 2009 review.)

A bit spicy and a pretty much a floriental… Vintage Soul is not as bad as I thought it would be because of my familiarity to several other Liz Claiborne fragrances. It has a bunch of fruit listed in the opening – cantaloupe, apple, and cranberry – but I get mainly a bergamot / modified fruit cocktail opening with some patchouli in the background. Also in the background is a flyby cranberry note that provides a bit of interest, but the rest of the fruit notes don’t come across very clearly… Del Monte Fruit Cocktail, anyone? The floral heart comes on quite strong and I mainly get jasmine and linden a bit spiced up: Not a bad accord and the heart is more pleasant than not. The drydown presents a musky, vanilla-y patchouli accord that surprised me because I thought it a rather masculine – masculine enough (and enjoyable enough) that I wouldn’t hesitate to wear it.

There’s nothing ultra-special about Vintage Soul, but it is competent and affable, and I find that a bit unusual for a Liz Claiborne fragrance. I appreciate that it is non-synthetic and not overly sweet. It has a rather substantial opening and middle accord, but the drydown very nicely diminishes the excess strength of the early stages. Not a bad fragrance, really – almost a thumbs up... (Edit of 16 April 2009 Review)

Muladhara: The Root… Security… stability… manifestation… survival… root of all matter… physical existence…

Well, it is earthy… Patchouli; medicinals and aromatics; smoky, musky, and woody: It’s earthy enough to satisfy me. Muladhara has a natural feel to it. It reminds me of the outdoors with its dirt (patchouli) conifers (cedar), and greens (vetiver and basil). I even get a kind of smoked meaty note in there (sage and patchouli) which I don’t care for and which annoyingly reminds me of Demeter’s Mesquite. I do very much like the earthiness presented here, but I do not see the need or purpose or reason for the barbeque note – it’s a little annoying.

I’m on the fence in this one. Muladhara has good sillage and longevity.

Muladhara is the root, the beginning chakra. To continue a chakra journey, go to the next chakra up: Swadhisthana, the Sacral. (Edit of 16 December 2008 review.)

Fresh and bright opening that’s different from most of the other eaus I’ve tried: It’s the caraway seed that provides most of this uniqueness. I love the smell of caraway and wonder why it isn’t used more often in perfumery. To my nose, the citrus of the beginning hovers in the background while the caraway / basil / mint take the center in an excellent, long lasting aromatic accord. This main accord is just plain charming in an endearingly old-fashioned way. It’s balanced to perfection. Toward the end of the aromatic dominance of the spices and herbs, the jasmine can be found softly filling in the background. The base that I get is a mellow moss and amber – quiet and comfortable and not very sweet, hardly any sillage, but it lasts for hours as a close-to-the skin scent: My favorite of the Guerlain eaus – maybe even of all of the eaus.

Quality all the way in this EDC. This cologne is different from the more traditional colognes I’ve used. – I own a couple of the classic ones and I appreciate that Eau de Cologne Du Coq’s combination of notes and accords reflect its age and character without being the same as the others. This one seems to have more substance going on… more breadth and variety, and yet it is undoubtedly of its age. The citrus opening is bright, clean, and refreshing, and it lasts quite well into the middle level. I love the middle because it the jasmine is warm, light and simply direct. The patchouli is beautifully proportioned to the jasmine, and the lavender stays in the background, which is usually where I like lavender. Don’t blink or you’ll miss the drydown of discreet moss and sandalwood. Du Coq has the typical limited longevity of colognes, but longevity is not the reason to own and wear a fragrance like this and its lasting ability isn’t an issue for me. Eau de Cologne Du Coq is an unique variation on the traditional cologne and is a worthy example of the fact that quality and refinement always have their place in the scheme of things.

On paper I get a soft, pleasant, balanced green jamine / green tuberose; there’s a breadth and richness to the accord that makes it different from a more ordinary tuberose / green. It’s a truly beautiful accord, and it holds for hours without changing very much… it simply travels the direct path to becoming softer and more delicate. On paper Beyond Love shows itself to be a soft white floral green whose most identifiable characteristics are some undercurrents of a very nice animalic ambiance, the high quality of the ingredients, a shadow of ambergris in the drydown, and remarkable longevity – in other words, it is an excellent fragrance – on paper.

However, on my skin it’s a different fragrance: my skin immediately annihilates most of the floral elements and magnifies the green aspects of the opening / heart to a piercing degree. The sillage that emanates off my skin is sharply green. It’s not a bad or annoying note, but it is pretty generic… not very interesting. I believe that Beyond Love is the first tuberose fragrance I’ve tried that doesn’t work at all for me.

An excellent cedar, rosewood and patchouli, backed up by a rich dried fruit and spice accord opening beautifully with a dry, strongly aromatic resinousness of the accord. After fifteen minutes I pick up the rum note, and it’s all right… but I feel that it cheapens the first accord a bit. The wood and patchouli accord continues with excellent longevity. I don’t get a very distinctive difference between the opening / heart and the drydown, and I’m not sure that the drydown exhibits any vanilla or musk… things just seem to stay about the same enjoyable wood and patchouli accord. Straight to Heaven is a beautifully designed and performing scent, composed of unquestionably high quality materials. It has moderate sillage and outstanding longevity. Bottle worthy? Maybe, but the price seems too high…

The opening reminds me of Nemo; this one is smoother and more refined, but I am definitely reminded. I find A Taste of Heaven a bit abstract and the heavenly taste comes through in a very delicious way – it gives off a credible sillage and is addictively sniffable. The “abstractness” of the opening is of bergamot, absinthe, geranium, lavender, and florals as far as I can identify. The accords are so smoothly blended that I wouldn’t have been able to identify anything but the lavender and absinthe without the note pyramid. The accords are exceptionally balanced and refined and the ingredients are of obviously superior quality. This unique, complex, soft, and unisex lavender fragrance is quite linear: It really doesn’t change much (I wouldn’t wish it to) except for gradually losing potency. It lasts over twenty-four hours as a close-to-the-skin scent… I can still detect a trace of it after showering. I admire and enjoy A Taste of Heaven very much.

There does appear to be a several interesting things meant to happen in Cruel Intentions – I have a suspicion of that – but those intentions, regardless of how cruel they are or aren’t, are not carried out completely that I can tell. The hint of rose absolute that I catch, although sweet and lovely, primarily accomplishes only making me want a fuller, richer version of it – it’s a tease and I want MORE. The gaiacwood floats around delicately, ethereally for a while and then exits way too soon. The castoreum is there, but I can’t figure out how it fits in with the other notes. The vetiver and the papyrus are the elements that seem to be doing their proper jobs, and they provide a refined and elegant textured foundation to… What? I haven’t found the sandalwood yet. What I end up with is an excellent, full-spectrum miscellaneous wood scent with something of the sparkle... the gracenotes... missing. It is a desirable and well-put together fragrance, but I am missing the florals that were intended to complement those woods. It’s likely that my skin has swallowed up all the florals (as often happens). I like very much the idea and intent of the fragrance, but in actuality it just doesn’t work very well for me. It is not a substantial sillage producer, but it does stay for hours as an excellent close-to-the-skin scent. …Beautiful scent though – my trials of it on paper have shown it absolutely lovely: My problem with it resides with my skin’s uncooperativeness, not with the fragrance itself.

Potently smoky, Gothically threatening, darkly aromatic… The wood, smoke, spice, and leather dominance immediately presents the no-holds-barred, dead-or-alive seriousness of Black Tourmaline. At first I thought that the opening signaled the kind of opening that is almost impossible to keep up for any length of time, but I was mistaken… the potency pretty much continues through the heart notes and even into the base to an extent. On my skin the fragrance is quite linear, with a smoky, woody, leathery aromatic accord and is rich, full, and edgy. Its linearity gives me something to think about... I wonder if I really will want something this darkly dramatic, potent, aromatic, and Gothic to stay around for five or six hours. As much as I admire the vigor and passion of Black Tourmaline, I can’t foresee too many occasions where I would wear it, but I for sure am getting a decant of it – it’s an exciting fragrance.

I would have to say that an excellent, lasting mineral accord is currently the fragrance discovery that I desire the most, and Rock Crystal comes excruciatingly close to fulfilling my wish. I love the mineral-like opening… The combination of citrus, spices, incense, and myrrh with possibly cedar and oakmoss thrown in the mix, creates a truly excellent mineral accord that, unfortunately, lasts only about five minutes. After the five minutes, the mineral accord moves on to become an adequate myrrh / incense accord. The short-livedness of Rock Crystal clearly exhibits the main problem with mineral accords: longevity… it seems impossible to get any kind of longevity out of this kind of composition. When the mineral accord is lost, also lost is the sillage. The heart and base of the fragrance – primarily composed of a bit of incense, moss, and myrrh with a dominance of vetiver – are both pleasant, soft, and discreet; the whole fragrance lacks projection and longevity. I question the classification of this scent as a feminine scent. Judging by the way it reacts on my skin, it could easily be considered masculine. I love the idea that Rock Crystal represents, and I sincerely regret that it is not quite successful enough in accomplishing an adequate longevity. I wanted so much that this be thumbs up… it is a valiant attempt, but it doesn’t quite make it for me.

Fruity in a pineapple (I think from the jackfruit) sort of way with a slap in the face of some generic spices – particularly pepper and nutmeg. I often dislike synthetic fruity accords and Sentiment causes me to continue that tradition… The spices don’t work either except for providing a little more dullness to the already boring and cloying jackfruit. The generic vetiver and sandalwood of the base are completely overshadowed by the remnants of the opening and heart notes. The whole fragrance ends up cloying, synthetic, and pointless because absolutely nothing seems to work in it. Escada regularly churns out an awful lot of not very great fragrances, but they are usually better than this one.

Coffee? I guess. …Chocolate? Maybe … but mainly I get a potent spicy opening that reminds me of a curry. The spices dominate from the start, and the background holds a rather quiet bitter note – coffee and/or chocolate. The backdrop keeps the curry and the whole accord from getting too out of control. To my nose the spices are conglomerate and I have a difficult time separating out any individual notes: It best for me to defer to Jenson on what the particular notes are. On my part, suffice it to say the fragrance presents a complex accord that has layers of spice and herbal notes. Until the drydown I find it quite linear. Fougère Bengale does not send a lot of sillage off my skin, but as light as the sillage is, the accord is deep, dark, and dry – foreboding, even. After quite a while the spices open up a bit to reveal drydown of tobacco. Unlike several other reviewers, I get no sweet through the entire long run of the fragrance. Ordinarily I enjoy deep, dark, dry fragrances, but this one comes across on my skin as pure, dark spice. If I could smell the patchouli and geranium and / or some of the sweet notes, I would appreciate it more than I do. I agree with Trebor about Fougère Bengale’s similarily to Dior’s Eau Noir, which is a fragrance I can’t tolerate. This one I can tolerate, but it takes a bit of resolve. Fougère Bengal is a complex, interesting fragrance, but it is not for me.

Easily identifiable as a Hugo Boss creation: This one doesn’t even seem to make an attempt to cover up its genericness… XX flaunts its mediocrity with boldness. It opens loud: alcoholy and too, too sweetly, thinly fruity. The basmati rice is a good idea: It provides substance and neutrality, and it performs well in its assigned place. The florals – jasmine and rose are as ordinary as they would be in any drugstore scent. The base is sweet and contemplates “good” but in the end decides not to go in that direction. On the whole this is another ho hum assembly line fragrance. It has good sillage and decent longevity.

I have had different responses from the opening of Vraie Blonde in the several times I tested it. Twice with the opening I received a blast of something sharply synthetic and a little medicinal, which hung around for about fifteen minutes. But most of the time it opens with the pleasant smell of something akin to a skin lotion or shampoo in a version that I enjoy because it’s not exactly a generic shampoo smell – more like a high quality scented personal grooming product product. The opening is a relief to me because I was expecting to hate this because of my general dislike of leather fragrances. I don’t get any of those disagreeable notes that I get from most leather scents. The leather in this is a suede-like one that actually smells good to me. I usually like aldehydes in a fragrance and this one is not an exception: The aldehydes are quite enjoyable, and add depth and breadth. The "shampoo" note gradually transforms itself into a very nice fruity / rose note that manages to be almost unisex, but then all too soon Vraie Blonde dries down to what smells to me like white musk – light and pleasant but very much like every other white musk dry down I’ve experienced.

Nowhere in the fragrance do I get the alcohol notes that some others do, and I’m missing out on all of those abusive smells that several other reviewers talk about. This is a pleasant but rather ordinary and uninspired scent to me, and although I think it is unisex, I would rather smell it on a woman than on myself.

Floral and rich… The combination of tuberose and the champaca flower is stellar. With the opening, the full and rich tuberose and champaca florals are nimbused by a delicate angelica and pepper, creating an uncommonly special white floral accord. As often happens, I get only a hint of the pepper in the opening. Unfortunately the nature of the angelica is ephemeral and its delicate aura has evaporated too soon, leaving a white floral that is still beautiful but a lesser scent than what it was in the opening. The relative strength of the champaca grows in comparison with the tuberose, so I guess I’m not as much a fan of champaca as I am of tuberose. But the accord is beautifully refined. The white florals are somewhat clean – the indoles are there, but they’ve been pretty much tamed. The base is an understated iris / white musk united with the remaining white florals: very pleasant. In spite of my disappointment at the direction the fragrance traveled since its opening, I must say that this tuberose / champaca fragrance deserves consideration along with the great tuberose scents. More delicate than Fracas (of course) and less indolic than Carnal Flower, LUXE Champaca is pretty much gorgeous and has enough originality in its persona that it just might make it as a tuberose holy grail. I myself consider it an also-ran and I remain true to Fracas both for the attractiveness of Fracas’ accords and for its longevity. But LUXE Champaca does present a different point of view that may very well be strongly appealing to another tuberose lover.

Nice opening… Bitter orange and a quiet, rather rich cinnamon and a non-annoying (to me) saffron make it sort of mid-point between "fresh" and "spicy." A bit reticent, it is an enjoyable accord that has more than its share of class. The middle level presents a cedar / woody dominated accord that retains some of the spice and is somewhat too retiring for my taste, but there’s the possibility that I could get used to it. But I don’t think I’ll get used to the base because of its all-too-ordinary construction and performance. It’s basically amber and it goes powdery. Silver Shadow is obviously made for the over forty set, I like it except it not for the powdery base. Up until then, the fragrance would have served well as an office / day fragrance, but I just don’t care for powdery fragrances for daytime, and I want a little stronger presentation this one gives for evening. Soft sillage and a bit less than average longevity - actually a nice fragrance.

Another green tea scent - Roger & Gallet’s Eau de The Vert presents an excellent clean, bright version – about as pristine as a green tea scent as I’ve found in the classic version of it. It opens with that bright but sour citrus note that I always appreciate: The middle adds some green notes to the green tea note and this provides a good longevity considering the type of scent it is. Then there is a warm cedar and guaic wood drydown – a little reticent in projection but boasting acceptable lasting power for an eau. Eau de The Vert is as natural and clean as the other Roger & Gallet colognes, and is a good choice for a green tea fragrance. Personally I prefer Bulgari’s Cologne Au Thé Vert, but I enjoy this one very much.

The linden and rosewood form a beautifully complementary accord in the opening of Eau de Ciel. Rosewood (one of my favorite notes but a note that seems tricky to use) is used very nicely in this fragrance. Then the violet comes in and it is strong enough to annoy me, but not so strong that I can’t tell the excellent development that is going on under that annoyance. This is not a violet fragrance: It is a delicately mixed floral with a firm hay note that provides a neutral base to the florals. It is unusual and I appreciate its uniqueness. Besides the violet, I can determine the iris, the neroli, and the orange blossom that, with the hay note and, later, the beeswax, form a light, ethereal and feminine floral. I don’t determine a separate progressed drydown: The florals and hay and barest touch of beeswax remain to the end, staying light and airy. Typical of Annick Goutal fragrances, it doesn’t last very long as a sillage maker, but it stays close to the skin and is quite long lasting that way. I enjoy the quirkiness of Annick Goutal's fragrances, and Eau de Ciel continues the tradition: Even with the violet note, it's a thumbs up fragrance.

Fascinating… Dramatic… A spicy treat with florals, palmarosa, and a touch almond gourmand that captures something not often offered in fragrances: An aromatic elixir making gorgeous use of palmarosa, nutmeg, cinnamon, and bay. I love the spices and I particularly love the palmarosa, but Touaregh seems to be a one accord wonder. It loses its sillage and strength so quickly, and with the loss of its strength, it loses much of its identity - its attractiveness. It does manage to last as a close-to-the-skin scent for two or three hours, but that is merely anticlimax - disappointment. Touaregh’s drydown has settled down to a transparent and too light vetiver, palmarosa, and cinnamon accord. It was fascinating and dramatic at first, but then just too quiet and short lasting…

Dark and dreadful. Now, I’m not a huge fan of patchouli dominant fragrances, but I certainly don’t dislike them… as a matter of fact, I actually enjoy these dark and dreadful patchouli constructions for an hour or two… then they get old and I get bored. I would say that this is one of the deepest, darkest, most dreadful patchouli I’ve encountered. Il Profumo’s Patchouli Noir can stand eye to eye with, or even lord it over, all those other dark, brooding patchoulis… for a while, at least. Like most of the other potent patchoulis, Patchouli Noir puts on a fierce growl at first, and then measuredly loses its Serengeti roar to become the purr of a housecat. Patchouli Noir doesn’t have much of a sillage and is only a bit short on longevity as a sillage maker, but it becomes a superb skin scent. There’s a strong cedarwood note intermingled with the patchouli, and there’s exactly the right amount of vanilla to smooth and enrich without sweetening too much. Patchouli Noir is a keeper.

Unique because of its thinness: Adventure is light, airy, spicy / citrus in a simple sort of way. There’s certainly not much substance to the fragrance and its aroma isn’t even what I would call interesting except for lack of tangibility. It’s just an unusual spicy / airy accord, but it certainly reminded me of something. Not knowing what “carambola” was, I wikipediaed it, and I found out: The carambola is the star fruit that I have been eating and loving ever since I arrived in Taiwan. I’ve always enjoyed it because of its looks and taste: When sliced, each slice looks like a perfect, greenish-yellow five-pointed star. What I like about the taste is that it is refreshing without being cloying or heavy. Its aroma is like its taste: it doesn’t resemble anything else that I know of, simply some semi-sweet refreshing fruity thing. In the opening of the fragrance what I get most are the aromatics of the absinthe and the light, almost vegetal sweetness of the star fruit. I get a bit of lemon and something that reminds me of anise. I think the anise smell can be accounted for by the lavender / amber combination. That’s it… that’s all I get the total run of the fragrance. I don’t get any jasmine, incense, or leather, but the scent is so thin that I’m surprised that I get any identifiable notes at all. It has limited sillage but decent longevity considering how light it is. Adventure is a nice little light fragrance but it lacks character and is much too expensive for what it delivers.

Café Vert is a light, soft, laid-back fragrance that has reduced sillage and projection. I get the “green coffee” note, and, while it is a unique and pleasant note, it falls a little short of being more impressive than most green notes… it is “green-coffee” which might as well be defined as a soft green note married to a soft coffee note. The green coffee is noticeable in the opening and then more or less quickly gives way to a citrus / floral heart of grapefruit and jasmine. I also can identify a geranium note but not a rose note in the middle. This heart citrus / floral is as pleasant an accord as the opening. It is clean and embracing as it quietly performs its well-balanced and refined duties. Where the fragrance lets me down is with the white musk with a sweet citrus drydown – it is entirely unexciting and a bit less masculine than I like in the base. In all this is a pleasant fragrance, but its inspiration seems to have been a little forced and its carry-through is lacking. The fragrance as a whole has below average sillage (which is not a problem if that is what you want) and barely adequate longevity, but its clarity and its pure notes could make it an excellent fragrance for someone seeking a pleasingly gentle, effortless fragrance with a tiny bit of pleasant uniqueness. I’m voting a neutral but it could very well be a thumbs up for the right person.

Excellent patchouli: deep, rich and incensy. I don’t get as much amber in the accord as the others have identified, but I think that the amber accounts for the deeply rich fluidity of the fragrance. The patchouli, sandalwood, amber, and incense form a quite dry, dark behemoth of a fragrance. Yet, in its potency, it is an elegant fragrance that doesn’t resort to rawness or roughness. Patchouly is just as smooth and rippleless as silk and glass. On my skin this doesn’t come off as animalic, but it doesn’t need to… It’s about as imposing a patchouli scent as I’ve encountered – long lasting, too.

Quite strongly green with an emphasis on fig – the opening is a sharp, almost annoying, anonymous green that soon morphs into a cleaner, warm/cool fig leaf note. As usual, my skin gobbles up the florals so I get mostly green, making Ichnusa a unisex or even masculine fragrance. The pyramid at parfyym labels it “figtree” wood, but I get fig leaf, I get neither fig wood, nor fig fruit… only pure green that is so sharply green that I suspect there are a few drops of tomato leaf in the mix. There is also a strong fresh-cut grass note that supports the sharp fig green. The green reminds me of the beginnings of Sisley’s Eau de Campagne, but Sisley’s EdC soon changes and mellows to a more calming, richer grassy vegetal green instead of staying the sharp green as Ichnusa does. Ichnusa is also much more reticent… it becomes little more than a skin scent, and that, too, is short lasting.

Because I don’t get any florals from Khnusa, it seems uninterestingly linear and not very complex. It’s might even call it a pleasant scent, but it is not highly interesting and it doesn’t hold very long on my skin and there are several other greens that I prefer.

I don’t find the lime opening very attractive. It’s not exactly a bad lime note, but it’s too strong and has too alcoholy an ambiance; however, since it’s lime it doesn’t annoy for very long. The middle goes floral, spicy, ferny, powdery, and abundantly sweet… powerfully green: so many notes, so little organization. For floral I get mostly orange blossom and jasmine, which is ordinarily an excellent combination, but these are not quality notes. The cinnamon and ginger spices are well done – not at all strong but filling out the background nicely. Mainly there is green and sweet. The spicy base goes even sweeter and quite powdery on my skin – musk and vanilla, and opoponax – rather clunky in presentation. Actually the Diesel Green, besides being generic, seems more masculine than feminine. There is so much lacking in this except the bottle is kind of cute.

Pure furniture polish… Hmmm… After the wonderful Agraria Balsam and Bitter Orange, this one is a letdown. I am usually thumbs up on anything that has a strong verbena note, but not this one. Agraria’s Lemon Verbena is a Lemon Pledge smell alike. I would not want this one either as a personal fragrance or a room fragrance. But the other two Agraria’s are wonderful.

This excellent scent reminds me of some of the resinous, drier Madini scents. It is dry, a bit smoky, and a great fir scent. On my skin, I don’t get very much floral at all – to me it is strongly masculine as a personal fragrance, but, as a room fragrance, not so masculine. Odysseusm has described it so well there’s no point in my repeating. For my part, suffice it to say that Agraria is an excellent and unique fragrance. I can very easily see a use for this as a personal fragrance and I would be looking to get the complementary products. Love it…

I find that Kiton Black is rather similar to the original Kiton Man. It’s more casual and it’s an easier wear than the first Kiton. To my nose, the top citrus notes are overwhelmed by the violet leaves – I don’t get any berries or anything else very sweet… and I think that a little more sweet is definitely needed. The middle accord – cyclamen, cardamom, and cedar – comes across as rather too neutral; to my nose it lacks anything that would make the accord special. The base is very similar to the base of the original except that the moss has been replaced by leather and the result is a smoother accord. Even though Kiton Black has less longevity than the original, I think it is the better fragrance: It has a competent construction and quite good quality ingredients, but I don’t care for several of the particular notes - especially the violet leaf. Just as in the original Kiton, I can’t find the love.

Quite a complex, citrus-spicy accord for the opening: Isfarkand is unique and rich – so rich that it gives a whole new interpretation to citrus. Immediately upon spraying I can smell the vetiver along with the opening’s smooth citrus and spicy pepper.

After a decent amount of time, the cedar joins in to give a rare sophistication to this light citrus, spicy, green accord. To my nose the iris adds primarily a texture to the heart notes. The heart is luxurious but in a non-dramatic way – it’s a platform for the peppery citrus / green from the opening and the vetiver from the base. The fragrance doesn’t move much and when it does, it moves gradually. Once the heart and base are achieved, there’s always present what I would call, that Ormonde Jayne note: I’ve tried only one other Ormonde Jayne scent – Ormonde Man, and that was the scent that I thought of when Isfarkand was halfway through its heart notes. The drydown is a delightfully refined vetiver and moss accord which contains the remnants of the stronger preceding notes. The drydown is soft but rich and has quite moderate sillage. Longevity is moderate, also. I am not in love with Isfarkand because I don't happen to be enamored of that Ormonde Jayne accord, but this is undeniably a refined, sophisticated, quality fragrance.

I’ve smelled attempts at this kind of citrus / green opening accord in a few fragrances: None of those attempts come anywhere near the quality and beauty of this one… it’s consummately better than anything of its nature that I have tried. On my skin the citrus (grapefruit / bergamot) is muted and the green (galbanum / cilantro with a cardamom) is silken smooth. It doesn’t seem either citrus or green and yet it can be recognized as both: conspicuously elegant and attractive. The accord picks up the jasmine and rose as soon as the citrus elements have exited from the opening and the subsequent heart accord is the kind that I call “texture” because the floral and woody elements integrate themselves seamlessly into the original green texture to form a heart accord that is a bit reminiscent of Gucci Envy EDP or an extra smooth, extra lustrous Nemo… it’s lovely, semi-gourmand, and entirely unisex… soft, but with a full olfactory spectrum. The base is a refined and rich cedar, sandalwood, and patchouli in an amber / vanilla sweetness. Long lasting biehl parfumkunstwerke eoO2 is quietly lush, sophisticated, and brilliant.

The pyramid says that the top notes are bergamot, white lavender, cardamom, spices… I get something lusciously gourmand immediately upon spraying… honey sweet and taste tempting, but certainly not overdone in its gourmandness. I think this is pretty much a scent constructed around honey – I get it from top to bottom with varied partnerships along the way. First, the honey joins with the soft, gentle lavender and the bergamot and cardamom to form a warm, intriguing opening. That opening accord holds well until it gradually transforms to a honey / tonka / spicy floral accord. This accord is more gourmand than floral, it is delightful, and it has lost much of its sillage power. In the final accord only a little of the gourmand accord is left to join with the light woods of the base – as often happens, I don’t get the musk. The base does not send much sillage from the skin, but it does have a nice aroma very near the skin. Normally gourmands are not my thing, but I find this one refined, rich, and eminently enjoyable.

I had to test Incense Rosé a few times before I could begin to wrap my brain around it. The first time I tested it, I got no incense, no myrrh, no ambergris – nothing resinous. What I got was aromatics… the cedarwood without the wood. There was a relatively solid rose / floral (Clementine?), and an earthy sweet that I couldn’t account for from the pyramid. The total olfactory image of what I experienced was a smooth, very smooth sweet aromatic floral that was very pleasant to experience, but, except for the florals, seemed a bit away from the natural: It was synthetic but in an extremely smooth, pleasant way. Thankfully, subsequent testings have provided much better performance from this excellent fragrance. I am now presented with all the resinousness that I could desire: the incense, ambergris, and myrrh notes have become rich and full, while the solid wood / labdanum with rose and orris in the background fill in the olfactory spectrum to perfection. For the entire run of the fragrance, the balance of notes IS perfection as far as I’m concerned. Woods, florals, resins, join in a harmony that is seldom seen. I love this scent.

I get a sort of campfire accord in the opening, but there’s a spicy ambiance that takes the fragrance out of the realm of forest habitation. I enjoy the incense note, and I enjoy the whole opening accord, but I am left wondering why it is so forgettable. The incense of the accord is not one that comes across as particularly ethereal or even churchy, and, while I can admire its discretion, I wonder at its lack of both intrigue and energy. The extremely dry incense that is used might be admirable in an experimental sense, but it just doesn’t seem to work – at least not on my skin.

The cedar comes in later but it also doesn’t accomplish anything on my skin; in fact, both the opening and the heart accords seem to begin deteriorating immediately after they appear. I can’t find the orris in the mixture nor does the ambergris take a substantial role, and in the end, the drydown turns stale and smells a bit of oily residue. Incense Extrême doesn’t respond well on my skin.

For me with my sporadic dislike of leather, Lonestar Memories travels the thin line between acceptable and not acceptable. I don’t find it repulsive, but I can’t warm up to the leather accord that dominates the scent. When I saw the pyramid, I was looking forward to the geranium, carrot seed, and sage—I have loved all of the accords like this that I’ve encountered before. But the opening gave me birch tar and cistus. Instead of getting jasmine and cedar in the heart notes, I get birch tar and cistus. For the dry down I don’t get myrrh, tonka, vetiver, or sandalwood…I get…well, I don’t need to say it again. The leather in Lonestar Memories is not nearly as objectionable as leathers I’ve experienced in some other fragrances, but I still don’t find it inviting.

I get an aquatic vibe from Cool Water Game for Her, even though it is primarily a fruity white floral. It’s quite youthful, it’s not very unique, but it is adequate and has quite good longevity on my skin. The fruits dominate in the opening with some augmentation from citrus: The florals – lily and freesia – form a pleasant, bordering-on-exotic floral / fruity accord that is quite pleasant if not very original. I don’t get much of a drydown – maybe a little musk that mingles with the waning florals and fruit of the middle. It’s the kind of scent that can be found in a lot of bottles and the kind I can’t get excited about. About all that I can say about it is “been there before.”

Like so many summer fragrances, Cool Water Summer Fizz is a light citrus / herb fragrance. Bergamot, mandarin, lemon, mint, lavender, sage with a white musk base form the fragrance with the addition of a fizzy experience that doesn’t last very long. There seem to be no levels, just the total accord (minus to fizz after ten minutes) for the short run of the fragrance: Pleasant, uncomplicated, uninspired. The dry down has a lot of similarity to the drydown of regular Cool Water, but I think it is a touch smoother – not quite as sharp as the drydown of the original, but that doesn’t really matter because the whole run of the fragrance lasts about an hour. It’s actually a good fragrance, but its poor longevity earns it a neutral.

To me the aoud note is quite strong in the sense of dominating over the other notes in the fragrance… not necessarily in the sense of being powerful and aggressive. It is a dominant but it is not as strong of aoud as many of the other Montales that I have tested. I kind of approve of the aoud simply because it overwhelms the saffron and that’s usually a good thing for me. Otherwise this seems to be very much like all the other aouds in the Montale pantheon – softer, perhaps, than the strong ones, stronger than the weaker aouds (duh), but typically another offering from the Montale aoud assembly line. In this case, the rose doesn’t come through very clearly for me, except for that identifiable aura that rose usually seems to provide in a fragrance. Of all the listed notes, geranium comes through the strongest besides the aoud. I get no leather, no cedar, no pepper, a little patchouli, teak, and cedar, and these are combined in a package that seems very much like the other Montale aouds. I’m having difficulty differentiating these fragrances.

The opening cypress / incense accord throws a strong sillage off the skin. It is an unique and dramatic opening accord: It is highly woody and incense-y, but I also get a rather strong moss note in addition to the incense – a moss used in a very original combination with wood and incense. The wood is of the cypress / cedar variety with a strong pine element, and the woody accord has a related turpentine note that is kept at a minimum but still adds considerable depth and interest to an otherwise straightforward and linear, though intense accord. The moss and thyme keep it from becoming too cedary / piney. I like this use of moss and thyme very much better than the use of lavender that often serves the “toning-down” function in many of these coniferous fragrances. I don’t determine too much difference between the opening and the heart notes besides the lessening of the intensity of the wood / incense accords. What distinguishes the base’s response to my skin is the rise to domination of the camphor note. The camphor joins a lesser vetiver to form an extremely aromatic drydown. It throws an outstanding sillage that is almost completely void of solid olfactory timbre and consists of those sharp airy aromatic versions of vetiver and camphor. The first time I wore Hinoki, I wondered what was happening: It was like a powerful Vicks Vaporub but smelling of coniferous wood notes rather than menthol and eucalyptus. I found it totally impressive and still do. MONOCLE Scent One: Hinoki is outstanding in its uniqueness, its composition and its performance. So dramatic, it probably wouldn’t be the typical choice for everyday wear, but it is a perfect wear for anytime a powerful presence is desired.

Calchic nailed it: Dentyne gum… this smells exactly like a stick of Dentyne gum. Series 5 Cinnamon is not really a fragrance for a cinnamon lover – its cinnamon is too weak and too distant to satisfy a Cinnabar, JHL, or Ambre Cannelle devotee. I enjoy the smell of those fragrances but I have also come to appreciate the milder, gentler cinnamon of CDG’s Series 5 Sherbet Cinnamon. It is cinnamon smoothed, deepened, and broadened by with a bit of spice from the saffron, carnation, and bay. I get a little sweet and a lot of white musk and not much else. It’s a gentle fragrance, but not necessarily gentle in a feminine way. I think that it is amply unisex. It has weak sillage, which is okay, and poor longevity, which is not okay. Its longevity earns it a neutral instead of a thumbs up.

A rather strange note in the opening: The first couple of times I smelled it, I got shades of the dreaded Guerilla 1. I really didn’t like this at first, but, its being CDG, I knew I had to give my olfactory synapses a few trial runs before I could begin to understand it. Each time I tested it, I warmed up to it a little, but I never have and probably never will achieve the love: the saffron note stops me every time. Everything else in Play I now find enjoyable and admirable. I have come to enjoy the “sea note” that I disliked at first. I can appreciate the balance and refinement of the opening and middle accords. I love the drydown. There are some extremely interesting things going on in the background and under the surface: the sophistication of the citrus opening with its pepper note; the wonderful interplay of oak moss and patchouli in the base; and the change from cold to warmth in the movement of the fragrance. But I will never get past that saffron. Very nice scent but next time… save the saffron for the paella.

Maybe it’s the bergamot, but there’s quite a fresh feeling to this fragrance– certainly fresher than the notes would indicate… Although it is a light scent, the bergamot, rose, and anise come through clearly in the opening and the heart notes. I even find a little darkness here – probably because of the violet and a bit of woodnote from the base. I simply do not get an excessive fruity sweetness – that would be more like the original L’Instant. This one, L’Instant Magic, is a definite improvement over the original in that respect. Magic’s base is woody and powdery and in all – non remarkable. I am one who has unpleasant reactions to several Guerlain scents, but this one provides one of the better Guerlain performances on my skin without the pain. I sort of like this scent, certainly don’t love it. It’s pleasant though uninspired…

A pleasant floral chypre – feminine: The floral is primarily lily of the valley. I personally don’t care for the violet leaf in the opening but it doesn’t come on strongly enough to annoy me. I think Comme une Evidence is one of those fragrances that exhibit a variation of reactions to different skin types because it reacts completely different on paper from the way it responds on my my skin. It is thin, uninspired, and a bit boring on paper, but on my skin it works beautifully. The fragrance is freshly floral, and a little soapy. It’s more subtle than not, and uncomplicatedly constructed which is difficult to imagine considering that it’s a chypre. The lily of the valley is well presented – clear and nicely natural. My favorite aspect is the mossy drydown that projects a discreet elegance as well as that bit of sensuality typical of chypres. The drydown gets a little powdery at the end. For as light as Comme une Evidence is, it lasts quite well. All in all, it is a very good fragrance at a reasonable price.

These Parfums Delrae fragrances all seem larger than life to me. They are somehow more imposing than the ordinary run of niche fragrances. Impressive and sophisticated, Eau Illuminée opens with a rather aromatic top. Normally I would think of aromatics as belonging to a more casual genre, but these aromatics manage to come across as elegant. I think it’s the particular proportion (and high quality) of bergamot and French lavender that creates such a feeling of sophistication. The heart accords move to an aggressive green herbal accord that manages to feel elegant in spite of the rather raw starkness of the herbs. This time I think it’s the combination of bergamot and vanilla that keeps the fragrance from slipping into casualness. The drydown is subtle but it develops an intriguingly modern “distance”: a soft, aromatic presence that I can’t account for with the listed tonka, vanilla, and orris. This is a rather unusual fragrance because it is pretty much absent of typical floral, spices, and wood notes, and yet it is complete and fulfilling. I don’t totally love this, but I can’t help but admire it’s elegance, naturalness, and creativity. Remarkable fragrance that performs beautifully and is very wearable.

To my nose Début debuts with a strong green fairly well supported by the florals: lily of the valley and ylang-ylang. The strength of this green / floral accord overwhelms the bergamot and citrus of the opening, although the citrus does enrich and fill out the green / floral accord. This accord is a clean, floral-green and sometimes I get a background of some near-unpleasant, sweet, fruity note; at other times I miss that iffy note. The opening / heart is a clear accord that has more than normal strength to it as well as very good longevity. Eventually I get a floral that is more linden than anything else. It’s a clean linden note but so straightforward that I find it a bit ordinary, even in conjunction with the green. I usually enjoy linden but this one is missing either depth or complexity. With the base, I begin enjoying the fragrance more – On my skin the vetiver (with the continuance of the heart green note) predominates while the wood and musk pretty much stay in the background. Since I am a vetiver lover, I find the drydown pleasantly cool, sharp, and distant. This is an OK fragrance – classically constructed, pleasant if not intriguing accords. I find it totally unisex and I suspect that my ambivalence about it is due to its incompatibility with my skin – ordinarily I get along nicely with Parfums Delrae fragrances.

A woody green with medium impact spices forms the opening accord: To my nose, the juniper berry / cardamom create the dominant notes, but they shouldn’t be referred to as “dominant” — they are not “strong” in the usual sense of the word, but they are the most recognizable notes. The bergamot seems to be blended nicely into the accord – blended so well that I don’t recognize it in the matrix. Of the spices, I don’t find the coriander as an identifiable note, but the combination of pink pepper and cardamom create one of those intriguing accords that tread the thin line between “wonderful” and “I just don’t know about this…” The spices do have a bit of the questionable “sweat socks” vibration. The refinement and balance of the opening is outstanding and it is long, long lasting. The middle accord doesn’t show up very strongly for me. I don’t get a clear aoud note as in the Montale aouds, but I do get an excellently refined woody (aoud and hemlock) accord whose smoothness could be attributed to aoud. The hemlock note is outstanding, but I would like the whole heart level to have more strength and substance. The drydown presents a bit darker, deeper aspect to the fragrance than the sophisticated accords that preceded it, and it gains a little more presence: I even get a modicum of “raw” which, counter-intuitively, adds to the elegance. On my skin Ormonde Man has incredible longevity – I can smell traces of it on my showered skin the next day.

I’m a bit turned off by the opening accord and it lasts so long that I can’t overlook my reaction to it. I do, however, see Ormonde Man as a smooth, beautifully designed and constructed fragrance that legitimately deserves its reputation as an extraordinary fragrance. I’m sure it would be worthy for HG status to those whose chemistry it agrees with.

First grapefruit, then tea – both of them sour or bitter… and I do enjoy that about Grapefruit Tea – its absence of sweet. The grapefruit note is quite nice, although short-lived, and the tea note is weak, but longer lasting. I’m not really very excited about this but it’s an okay scent. As usual with Demeter: Grapefruit Tea has barely adequate sillage and it’s short on lasting power.

I’m not usually a fan of ozonics and I’ve never been to Hawaii, but I enjoy this scent. It is ozonic, and it’s fresh and clean and all those good things. Skulking under the ozonic accord there’s a soft suntan lotion note and a soft floral that I can’t identify. I think I can smell some sand or mineral in there too – whatever, it’s pleasant and enjoyable. There is a synthetic tinge to Kahala Hawaiian Surf, but I usually get that in ozonic fragrances, so it’s no big deal. Sillage is OK and longevity is typical Demeter – short. If ozonics were my thing I think I’d get this because it is so nicely put together.

Sugar Cookie is a miss as far as I’m concerned. I get a rather solid synthetic note, but the worst of it is that I can’t identify the smell with the smell of the sugar cookies I’m familiar with: I don’t perceive sugar cookies as being spicy. I am used to the plain sugar and vanilla cookies and that’s all I want to smell: sugar, butter, and vanilla. I guess things can go wrong when you try to olfactorily duplicate memories from childhood: Everyone’s memories are a bit different, all use their own recipes. On my skin Sugar Cookie has the poor longevity typical of most Demeters.

I get no citrus in the opening. I get a synthetic smelling lavender that is struggling to stay afloat in a sea of perfumy alcohol. Its struggles are short lived. I feel compelled to immediately wash it off because it’s giving me a headache…probably some leather note in there somewhere. Mogul is in a place that I do not want to be.

Opens light with the citrus obscured by a wood accord, which in turn is obscured by its own reticence. I get very little aroma from this fragrance, and, judging from some of the other reviews, that is a good thing. What I get is an unidentifiable synthetic note coupled to an oily background. It’s stale and it has little sillage or longevity, which can be looked upon as a good thing. In spite of my overall dislike of Dragon, I can say something good about it: It’s not as bad as Mogul, but still not recommended.

A pleasant and clean scent – fresh with rosemary, neroli, and ylang ylang: This is a charming combination, and it forms an intriguing opening accord. It is light and borderline synthetic, but just barely borderline and the synthetics are easily ignored. This is the kind of opening and scent that could go anywhere and be anything. I like it… it has that feel-good aura, and it’s the kind that could hardly ever be misapplied or offensive. Unfortunately it’s also the kind of scent that disappears quickly from my sense of smell. I don’t think it is a short lasting as it at first appears. I develop anosmia to it rather quickly, and the dry down is a light, white-musky skin scent of the sort that also likes to disappear on me with haste. I like Skye but it is too frivolous and too short lasting and too adequately replaced by a typical designer scent.

What I mainly get from Eucris are the moss and, to a lesser extent, the musk. As usual, when I encounter the moss / musk dominance in an accord, I am not impressed – I guess it’s not a favorite. The spices do not come through very strongly to my nose, and the spice notes that do come across are a bit muddled and unclear. As much as I usually enjoy cumin and pepper in fragrances, I can only find an echo of them here – the moss overwhelms. The floral dimension in the heart could have been an excellent contribution of the fragrance: The florals are full and rich with some substantial indole action from the sweet jasmine, but the accord itself is smudged by the unclear spice notes and the too-strong moss that gives a heavy soapy feel to the scent. The soapiness is not the winning kind to my nose. In the base I get very little sandalwood coming through, so what I’m left with is just a not very exciting soapy / mossy emanation from my skin. Eucris is composed of good ingredients and the movement performs nicely. It has very good projection and longevity and is a well-made fragrance, but I can’t find the love.

There is not much happening in Spanish Leather Cologne: It’s linear, but as is often the case, linearity is not a negative. What Spanish Leather has to offer is a calm, rich, masculine leather / wood scent that relies on an attractive solid, low-key virile elegance to carry it through. It doesn’t really move… It doesn’t need to. Spanish Leather Cologne strikes me as old fashioned and traditional, but in a very, very good way: It emanates loads of quality, character, and depth. I enjoy it and I can count on one hand how many leather fragrances I can say that about. The leather presentation in Spanish Leather actually comes through quite strongly to my oversensitive-to-leather nose. This is about as leathery as I can tolerate in a fragrance and still enjoy it, and enjoy it I do…

Bright and tart and clean: West Indian Extract of Limes by Trumper is as close to the enticing smell of fresh squeezed limes as any thing I’ve smelled, and that includes the squeezed limes fresh from the lime tree in the backyard. And like the aroma of those squeezed limes, Extract of Limes doesn’t last, but lasting isn’t what it’s about. This is about the taste / aroma of fresh, fresh limes and the mouth puckering sweetness that only limes have. This is about sun and fresh sea air. This is perfect… Whoops, hirch_ duckfinder already said that. Well, he’s right…

Very earthy… Hindu Grass’s primary persona revolves around patchouli with the herb and grass notes strongly shadowing in the background. Immediately upon application the dry, dark, natural patchouli grabs hold and dominates the fragrance. It is a lush, broad-spectrumed patchouli that is super smooth and glossy and the accord incorporates the additionally enriching elements of tobacco and coffee into its seamless, rippleless mixture. Counterpointed into that primary accord are absolutes of grasses and herbs. The patchouli accord is beautiful in its notes and structure, and compelling in its naturalness, and the natural grassy / hay sharpness in the mixture moves the patchouli to levels of the ethereal. After an hour or two, the patchouli picks up a discreet element of sweetness. I’m thinking amber, but I wouldn’t swear to it. It stays this way – patchouli and grass / herbs and the slight sweetener – and all too quickly loses its sillage making power. It lasts as an excellent skin scent for a couple hours longer. I would prefer a bit stronger sillage and more longevity, but it is a beautiful fragrance.

This stuff comes on STRONG. I am immediately hit with a powerfully resinous vetiver / absinthe (wormwood), and there are some powerful dry aromatic herbs in the mixture, too. I had thought I liked things as resinous as they can get, but I might have to take that back -- this one goes almost too far. The wormwood is rather diminutive and the vetiver is a beautiful, strong, rawish note. I don’t think it’s the wormwood or the vetiver that causes my indecisive response: The aggressiveness is primarily accomplished by the herbs. This opening and heart are tolerable to me but are definitely on the edge of being too potent… I don’t find Absinth highly wearable for the first forty-five minutes, but after that is a different story: After the original accords are spent, there comes a magnificent drydown that has the absenthe, vetiver, herbal smoothness, fullness, and depth of an extraordinary skin scent, but it also has projection and sillage that moves it above the skin scent category. Absinth is a rather linear fragrance with strong sillage at first, and eventually followed by a discreet sillage for the drydown. It doesn’t have the best longevity on my skin – about two and one-half to three hours, but I love it for its natural, rich accords provided in the drydown: I’d say that it is a hesitant thumbs up.

Bright and lively entrance: There is something in the citrus opening that they are not telling anybody about – something like a light eucalyptus or at least something medicinally aromatic. The opening is energetic yet it seems almost old fashioned and classic at the same time: I think the “classic” aspect comes from an ever present sandalwood that exhibits a rich background to the sparkling citrus and the amber and benzoin that shows itself almost immediately. The floral heart is well done with none of the florals dominating to my nose except that I get a little spice probably coming from the carnation. The heart presents a very enjoyable floral bouquet that is appropriately unisex. The base does get a little blah, but it is pleasant enough and subtle enough to make the fragrance a good choice for an office fragrance or other circumstances when its subtlety is desired. Sutra Ylang is a unique scent… I can’t think of anything similar to it.

Real Patchouly is real patchouli. It’s a deep, dry patchouli that seems to be quite unadorned and straightforward, which, of course, it isn’t. There is a modicum of citrus joining the opening, giving the opening a very temporary shadow of lightness and sparkle – but only in the background to the solid, dry patchouli. It doesn’t take long for a light, almost dry amber to join the patchouli in an unique and excellent accord. I don’t find this accord very similar to the patchouli accords in other patchouli scents. It it smooth rather than raw; but I wouldn’t call it refined or even tamed; It is stark and smooth, and I know that that doesn't make sense. It isn’t head shop, and it certainly isn’t macerated such as the patchouli in Montales Patchouli Leaves. It is simply a woody, full, linear, long lasting, and completely enjoyable patchouli accord. A large part of its character is the sandalwood that joins it halfway through the heart accord. The dry down is soft and masculine without a lot of sillage and with a rather limited longevity. Real Patchouly’s dry, low-keyed, arid / semi-sweet, woody, masculine presentation represents a unique interpretation of patchouli and offers a genuine alternative to other patchouli fragrances. Admirable.

The citron and vetiver come across immediately. It’s a unique accord: refreshing, citric, a strong, gentle touch of the past (in a very good way)… This is a rawer, more natural, more complex version of the typical vetiver / citrus opening, and much more interesting than the Guerlain Vetivers of the world IMHO. The heart moves into a complication of florals, herbs, greens – I get dominant notes of Osmanthus, lavender, and apricot and some basil remains of the top accord. The heart accords are interesting but they would be more impressive if they exhibited more potency. The base accords go vetiver, tobacco, and thyme on me; I don’t get much amber or musk. I see Bois 1920 Classic as a good idea that wasn’t carried to its rightful fulfillment, and my problem with it is in its lock of potency and poor longevity. It would be very good scent for one who prefers the more subtle deliveries, which I often do, but in this case, it doesn't work. For me it’s a neutral.

I get a strong, aromatic wood / herbal accord – deep tones, even a bit aggressive. I don’t smell any fern… or bergamot for that matter, which is not unusually for me in fragrances with strong wood and herbal accords. At first the woodnotes seem resinous, but the resinousness relatively soon begins to fade, revealing a softer, less resinous accord that is quietly woody / aromatic. The notes that Bois 1920 claim don’t really fit well with what I am smelling; however, the Parfyym website identifies sandalwood and cedar in the base as well as lavender and sage in the top notes, and I think that Parfyym’s pyramid is a highly accurate portrayal of the kinds of notes I am experiencing: an aromatic sandalwood and cedar coupled with an aromatic lavender and sage. Those notes would certainly account for the full, deep, dry aromatic richness that I am both smelling and loving. These notes work together to give the impression of being resinous. Whatever they put in the mix of this fragrance… it works! The linear wood / herb accord is subtle and masculine and addictive. It eventually becomes a hugging-the-skin aromatic that discreetly hoards and extends its elegance. Bois 1920 Extreme is a keeper.

Bright citrus and sweet opening: It comes off quite gourmand on my skin… gourmand and a bit synthetic, but in all a unique, interesting, and enjoyable accord that holds the opening and middle notes, gradually waning, for an hour or two. It’s a satisfying aroma… it is gourmand but I don’t think of it as foody because of the light, sweet aromatics accompanying it – must be the anise. To my nose the anise is very well behaved and doesn’t become cloying nor does it mutate to become licorice; it just remains an interesting sweet, spicy, and maybe rosy skin scent. The only movement the anise accord makes is its dimming. By the time the drydown is reached, the fragrance is a pleasing skin scent.

This scent has something in it that reminds me of another scent, but I can’t put my finger (nose) on what it reminds me of. I cannot help but feel that there is a conflict or contrast – it exhibits originality and yet there's something familiar about it. The conflict that I AM sure of is the contrast between its engaging, unique aroma and the fragrance’s very real subtlety and discreetness. Sushi Imperiale is an engaging and unusual / familiar offering; it is an excellent scent that has rather subtle sillage after a few minutes and good longevity.

Isn’t it strange how some fragrances require three or four wearings in order for the wearer to begin to get consistent results with it. It’s as if the olfactory nerves do a trial and error search of the brain neurons until the best path to the neurons are found. This is one of those fragrances that took more than a few detours through my brain neuron / synapses paths. With this fragrance – virgin and bullfighters – the first try I got only the virgin. Not that I’m complaining about that circumstance – nothing wrong with virgins – actually the scent was quite pleasant: The virgin is a very pretty accord … almost too pretty. It is a beautifully constructed and presented accord that seemed very traditional and it even showed off little bits of edginess in its otherwise traditional way. It presented tuberose and musky woods with a touch of sweet from vanilla and amber, I would guess… Very classic and quite different from what I thought Etat Libre D’Orange was about.

My second wearing brought in the bullfighters (or, more correctly, the bulls). Those dang ol’ leather molecules sure found their way to the proper neurons. I could smell the leather immediately upon spraying, and I was relieved that it was a leather note that I could handle: a light, smoky variety that managed to be on the border of endearing. The smoke is quite strong at first: I could smell it even before the leather... I caught it immediately upon opening the vial. The leather / smoke accord is smooth and suede-like, and one of the few leathers that I actually enjoy.

The combination of leather and tuberose makes for an intriguing fragrance. Vierges et Toreros has very good sillage, especially in the beginning with its smoke note. The sillage quickly reduces to become more restrained, and, almost with the heart notes, turns into a skin scent that has poor longevity. On my skin it lasts less than two hours. In spite of its poor lasting ability, I'm going with a thumbs up.

A couple of new words for me to learn here: safraleine and curcuma – I googled “curcuma” and it turns out to be wild turmeric. “Safraleine” is the synthetic saffron already discussed by other reviewers Had I known that 8 88 has a major saffron note, I wouldn’t have bothered testing it, and I would have been the loser in that decision. This particular saffron – safraleine – is obviously not the same saffron note that I dislike in other fragrances. I have come to love this one. It is not as strong nor is it as annoying as other saffron notes. Safraleine, in combination with the coriander, pepper, and wild turmeric, is rich and inviting. I didn’t like it the first few times I tried it. Now I love it. The rich safraleine accord that I get in the opening dominates the fragrance for fifteen or twenty minutes. The coriander and pepper(wood) in the background broaden the dimension of the accord, but I can’t identify the wild turmeric of the opening – I would assume that it is there tweaking the saffron, but I can’t identify how it is doing that. The saffron accord is outstanding, but I am disappointed at how weak the incense note comes through to me. It’s there, but it just doesn’t make it across to me enough, so I feel I am missing much of the breadth of the 8 88 because I love well-done incense notes and I think that, in time, this fragrance could use that extra dimension. As lovely and rich as the saffron / spice note of the opening is, it thins down to a vague, unfulfilling linear wisp to my nose. When the drydown arrives, it, too, is a bit of a letdown when compared to the opening. The drydown is an attractive patchouli / amber that is quite elegant and beautiful, retains a bit of the spices, and is too understated; on my skin it is a skin scent. 8 88 has very good longevity. I find that my nose quickly tires from the notes and, as I move through the fragrance, I have to avoid sniffing it for fifteen minutes before I can again catch its accords. I applaud the creativity and beauty of this fragrance but wish that the middle and base had more presence. Except for the first half-hour its wearability is a minor disappointment, but still, because of its creativity and the excellent opening, I feel impelled to give 8 88 a reluctant thumbs up.

I just knew that the women’s version of Joop! would be a complicated, rather outrageous, aggressive, powerhouse of a fragrance. This is a worthy distaff sibling to Joop! Homme. Joop! Femme arrives on the scene with citrus, cilantro, and aldehydes in a firm, but not over-the-top citrus / green opening. Then moves to a floral middle where it earns its classification of “floriental.” The florals are full and vibrant. I can identify the jasmine, orange blossom, and lily of the valley… I’m not so sure about the rose. There is an incense that floats in an out of the florals, and adds some resinous drama to the accords, as if bright citrus, strong white florals, and aldehydes weren’t enough drama… Incense! – I love how they think at Joop! This scent is not letting me down. After a very long lasting middle, the scent moves into the woody base: sandalwood and patchouli sweetened with vanilla… quite nice, especially when the civet comes out, and, at this point, I’ve just arrived in over-the-top heaven. This scent is audacious, and I can’t help but admire the depth and breadth of the audaciousness it exhibits… It is so far from transparent that it’s cool. To recap: strong sillage, long, long lasting, and it smells great, but it sure is pushy.

Berry and grapefruit are fine for the clean concept. Even clove (not my favorite note) can contribute a feeling of cleanliness. But when all of them are combined with lavender and olibanum and patchouli, the accord loses its claim to clean. This scent is okay but I don’t find it very original or exciting. It’s way too expensive for what it delivers and on top of all that, the longevity of Clean Men is pathetic.

It’s strange to me that Villoresi, who typically draws his olfactory paintings in surrealisticly, neonly olfactory strokes, has created an incense fragrance that is so forgettable because of the subtly of its incense. The first time I tested it, I immediately experienced the typical Villoresi explosion, but this disappeared in subsequent testings to be replaced by a balanced green / citrus accord overshadowed by the mild resinousness of incense and myrrh. With even further testing, the opening I get is a balanced green / citrus accord with a stronger overlay of the cinnamon / benz