Fragrance Reviews by foetidus

Strange opening accord – quite suspect as far as I’m concerned: a little dirty and little more belch, but interesting enough to make me want to keep smelling to find out what’s over the horizon. I think it’s the rubber note in the near recesses that holds most of the mystery / intrigue / nausea. It isn’t long—five or ten minutes – that the accord rearranges itself to become quite…pretty, or, as odysseusm, says… “precious.” Yes, it is “precious.” The list of notes is misleading. There are whisky and rubber and pine and cigar notes there, but they seem to last less time than it takes to type them and I’m a 94 wpm typist. It is a pretty heart accord, though, and the dominant note is heather, according to odysseusm, and I am certainly going to take his word for it – I have never smelled it that I know of. The dry down is too much of a skin scent for me to identify notes – it has a definite component of rubber (burnt) in there that gives a rather incensy background; other than that it is a rather neutral accord to my nose. Cumming ends up being a pleasant fragrance with an interesting but short lived top, a nice but rather neutral middle with transient fly bys of various cool sounding notes, and a short lasting, neutral drydown that closes in on and hugs the skin surface for an unacceptably short embrace. Hmmm… I kind of wanted to like this one.

Opens with a sharp vetiver—a little peppery but primarily rawly – almost iodinely – vetiver. Even in the sharpness of the opening there is an underlying dirtiness of spices welling up from the heart accord – specifically cumin with other spices following behind. The mixing of the first two levels results in a challenging accord – both piercingly sharp and down and dirty, if you can imagine that. I’m not sure how to take this accord – I think I both love and dislike it. The conflict between clean and dirty eventually settles down to an adjusted pleasant vetiver / cumin accord modestly supported by some sweetness (tonka bean). These last few gasps of life simply do not last long. Parfums de Nicolai Vetiver is an intriguing, challenging fragrance…challenging to wear fragrance, too… unfortunately, it seems to have very limited longevity. Parfum de Nicolaï Vetiver is a bold scent that is proof of the creative risks the perfumer is willing to take in accomplishing her art.

Dirty English comes on strong with cypress and smoky tones dominating the mandarin and bergamot of the opening. It’s a dramatic opening and it is done with taste – it isn’t over the top. As a piece of drama, the opening is a flash in the pan, but there remains a substantially competent and enjoyable fragrance after the flash is gone. The second stage is a neutral leather / mild spice accord that offers an enjoyable natural warmth, and hangs around for a decent amount of time. The drydown is as good as the rest. To my nose it is quite woody with its vetiver, cedar, and ebony; there is little sweet in it and what there is seems to come equally from amber and musk. The cardamom in the base serves to connect the base with the middle accords, with a distinctive neutrality. The background smoke and conifer lasts through the drydown, providing a comfortable otherworldly feeling. In all, I find this an admirable fragrance – one that hopefully indicates a new direction in modern masculine designer fragrances. Good projection and very good longevity.

Quite some indolic notes in the opening…They last for only a few seconds, but for those seconds I’m getting indoles. I like it. I don’t really get the bergamot / citrus opening notes, because they are suffocated by the indoles and the leather. I usually dislike leather in a fragrance, but the leather in Royal Delight smells pretty good to me. It’s rich and naughty and even a bit arrogant. The floral middle is masculinized by the leather, creating a unisex scent, as far as I’m concerned. The drydown is classic and excellent: the leather continues with the added sandalwood, amber, and vanilla – I get much more leather and vanilla than I get sandalwood and amber. Royal Delight is both an opulent fragrance and a sensual one, and yet it can stand as a classic. I certainly enjoy the depth, passion, and sophistication of it. It isn’t often I say that about a leather fragrance.

Obviously a stellar “sandalwood” fragrance. Its simplicity is drawn from the fact that sandalwood is one of the few notes that is perfectly competent to stand on its own in a solo-fragrance. In cases like this, it’s the quality of the sandalwood note that determines the quality of the fragrance, and, the sandalwood used in Santal Imperial is excellent from my point of view. It is what I would typify as the soft, creamy, rather than the aromatic variety of sandalwood; it exhibits excellent longevity. I love the aroma of sandalwood so much that I am fully satisfied with a straightforward solo-sandalwood fragrance; however, I realize that others may legitimately expect something more, and in that case Santal Imperial might not satisfy them….

Although I am not an expert on sandalwood, I believe that this is one of the best I’ve found in a generally available alcohol based fragrance. I still prefer Floris Sandalwood but that is no longer readily available, and Creed’s Santal Imperial now takes top honors among the more pure alcohol based sandalwoods I’ve tried. It’s an excellent fragrance…

I can see a relationship between this and Le Dandy – they both have that liquor (rum and / or brandy) note in the opening. Femme de Dandy, however, has a more present sweetness supporting the liquor note and is fuller and rounder in its delivery: This is more opulent and not as resinous. It doesn’t go nearly as far as in its exoticism as Frapin 1270, but it definitely belongs in that genre. As in Le Dandy, I don’t notice much progression in Femme de… at least not very much difference between the top and the heart accords. There are spices in the fragrance, but they seem to perform more in the background than up front; I’m not sure I approve because I do like “very spicy,” but the accords here are balanced and refined and allow the rum note to lead. Two more notes of note are the carrot and the tobacco. I’ve loved the use of carrot in several fragrances – it provides a unique, comfortable sweetness that is richer and broader spectrum than many other sweetening agents, and it works as well here as in those other fragrances. The drydown gets more traditional with its long lasting musk / vanilla accord – simple but more effective than it sounds, because there are still some wisps of liquor and spice present. This is an excellent fragrance but I do not see it as feminine. It’s a sweeter, more refined, less resinous Le Dandy and I see it as completely unisex – now I have two or three fragrances of this nature to choose from.

Sweet, buttery, and it smells like chocolate. The chocolate part is okay because my mother would make the kind of cake we kids wanted on our birthdays… I always choose angel food cake with the chocolate whipped cream frosting (except those one or two times I chose carrot cake). The buttery part doesn’t fit in very well with my memory, and in the end this makes me think of “cake,” not birthday cake, but I guess that I can handle that. Hmmm… I can still hear them singing: “Happy birthday dear foetidus, happy birthday to you…”

Not bad… as good as some of the designer attempts at a fig fragrance. It’s not very complex, but Demeter’s seldom are. Demeter fig leaf smells like fig leaf. It doesn’t last long, but it lasts longer on clothes than it does on skin. To tell the truth, I’m not excited…

Oh, no! A fruity floral – not my favorite category. Except for its imposing strength, it seems modern. I was hoping for something more “yesterday.” Visa is a strong, feminine fruity floral: peach, pear, and mandarin for fruit; rose, ylang-ylang, and orange blossom for floral. None of the aforementioned seems to dominate – the accords are very nicely balanced, and of course, there’s not a trace of synthetics. It feels closer than modern fruity florals do, and by that I’m not referring to sillage… I think I mean it feels warmer, more natural, more real…It’s closer to living things. It’s base is quite remarkable: very sweet with its benzoin and vanilla, and I don’t think that the sweetness is tempered very much by the woods or moss. (I only suspect the woods and mosses.) Yet it’s a rich, not a thin “sweet” due to its “gourmand leathery accord.” Whatever is happening there, it works. Quite a complex, interesting but sweet drydown: I thought when I started this review that it would end up a neutral – not my favorite category, you know, but I’ve actually talked myself into enjoying this.

A very impressive rose fragrance: The opening of Domenico Caraceni 1913 boasts a strong repertoire of aromatics, rose, and citrus… Great notes, but above all else, this is a fragrance of blendings, proportions, and refinement. The opening aromatics come mainly from the excellent geranium; I am particularly struck by use of the geranium in this fragrance because it seems at once traditional and modern – I think it might be THE major player here. The rose is deep and masculine – it has a lot of presence and it seems to give its character to the fragrance, but to my nose, it takes a subsidiary position to the geranium. The citruses also act as a support group; I cannot differentiate the citruses one from another, but the citruses are an extremely important element of the total accord. It is truly a fragrance of creative and refined combinations. A strange thing to me is that I have never been able to get the tobacco or frankincense from the drydown. I get a soft rose, a soft spice, a now and then geranium hovering over a soft but solid cypress and musk skin scent – it’s breath taking. I like the top and heart notes very much, but I love the soft, sophisticated drydown with or without tobacco and incense.

Antica Farmacista’s Ambra is different from most ambers I’ve tried. I think there are almost as much wood as amber. And the amber used in the fragrance is… well, it’s not really weaker or washed out, but it simply has less body… less presence than most ambers I’m familiar with. It turns out to be very light and that is not necessarily a bad thing. Ambra is, I think, made more feminine than masculine simply by its lightness and subtlety. I can see it as an amber fragrance that could be worn in warm weather. Although this is not a fragrance I would be interested in, I am hesitant to criticize it, because it is a nicely made and competently performing fragrance that could very well just be what someone is looking for.

Of the ten or so Antica Farmacista fragrances I have tested, this is unquestionably my favorite. It shows my prejudice for spicy woods. Il Fuoco di Lustro (Lustrous Fire) is a warm spicy wood fragrance that seems to have thought about becoming a gourmand when it grows up. It’s sweet and spicy and woody and (a bit) smoky and (definitely) dark. I don’t care too much for the opening because it has an unusual slight synthetic undercurrent reminiscent of the metallicness of a marine accord. But the opening doesn’t last long enough to worry. The mid notes are spice, or I should say SPICE. They are quite strong in proportion, but not in what I would call strong in delivery. The scent is actually more on the subtle side than not. Cinnamon and ginger dominate to my nose with a nutmeg background. It’s a very sniffable accord, but, as nice as it is, it is not as good as the drydown. The drydown is wood and amber / musk… specifically sandalwood with a bit of aoud, cedar and patchouli… with just enough amber musk to keep it from going too dry. I love the drydown and it has good lasting power on my skin. My main annoyance is that I cannot find Fuoco in a size smaller than 250 ml.

Nothing very marine comes through on my skin. What I get is a very sweet, almost transparent minty herbal. Antica Farmacista’s Acqua is a pretty scent – sweet, subtle, green, and linear. I appreciate its lightness, freshness, clean ambiance, and decent longevity, but it is a little too sweet for me. I tend to interpret mint as “sweet,” which is where I get excessive sweetness. I do the same with MPG’s Centaure and some other very minty fragrances. Acqua is a well-made, refined subtle fragrance, and I don’t want to cast any aspersions on it, because it would be a great fragrance for one who enjoys mint and sweet.

I rather enjoy this one. The pomegranate is fruity and a little sweeter than it should be IMO. I would have liked the sweetness cut by a different herb than the basil, which isn’t really good at cutting sweetness. I guess there is some citrus in the opening to – I can smell it, but it isn’t sharp enough. Underneath the pomegranate accord is a floral accord – rose and some white floral that I can identify. The rose is a soft but a bit musty… not unpleasant, mind you, and I think I could learn to really enjoy it. Actually both the fruit and the floral accords are on the subtle side, and I would enjoy it more if it didn’t turn soapy. Usually I don’t mind a bit of soap feel, but it just doesn’t seem to fit in what should be happening here. I actually like Antica Farmacista’s Pomegranate (Melagrano) better than this review sounds, I think I’m a little frustrated because with a little tweaking, this could have been quite a bit better.

I couldn’t believe the first sniff I took of AF’s Mediterraneo. It smelled like a bad mistake, because I was expecting citrus and I got smoke, and it’s not a fragrance smoke smell, either, it’s rather chemical. The citrus is there underneath the smoke, but it’s not a pleasant nose journey to find it. I don’t understand it, usually I love the ambiance sandalwood and cedar, even when they get a little smoky or incensy, but not with this one. About the only thing good about this is that it doesn’t last very long. Maybe it’s a skin chemistry thing, or maybe I have a bad sample, but I got it from a reliable source, I believe. Still, I really have a hard time believing Mediterraneo was made like this on purpose.

Naxos or noxious? No, sorry...I just said that to be cute, the scent is only just a little bit annoying. There’s something about the use of the grapefruit or maybe the grapefruit / violet combination, that gives an unsmooth, off note. Beneath this raspy citrus / floral accord is a melon-like fruity note that starts out very nice but turns a little synthetic / marine after a while – but it’s still pleasant. The drydown is an adequate vetiver, white musk, and (I suppose) sandalwood – I don’t get any sandalwood, but it could be in there. There’s nothing is the scent that is very inspiring so, ultimately, Naxos is an “almost got there” scent – nothing really wrong with it except it is slightly off target.

An interesting and refreshing combination: pomegranate and current… blended with orange. It forms a fruity combination that is not at all too sweet because the currants and the spice keep the sweetness under control. The scent is quite linear, which is fine because the fruity combination is interesting enough to maintain attention. The only change I get in the main accord is the gradual fading of main pomegranate / currant / orange accord to the point where it is no longer there. In the background of the fruity accord I get that same neutral accord that I have been smelling in several of the more recent fragrances. It’s about the same neutral accord as I get in the heart of Gucci Envy. I really enjoy that accord, but in Pomegranate and Currant, the fruity accord lasts longer than the background. The drydown is simply the faded leftovers of the main accord; needless to say it is very light. The longevity is poor – I get about forty-five minutes. This is a very pleasant scent, but its lack of staying power concerns me: It’s a thumbs up fragrance with a neutral longevity. Apparently it is meant as a kind of cologne because it is offered only in 250ml and 500ml sizes at $120 and $160 respectively.

Quite aromatic green at top – an aromatic that includes a firm aromatic lavender: It is refreshing and unique – I’ve never smelled anything quite like this before. One of the causes of the uniqueness of the opening is the use of oakmoss to warm up and fill out the spectrum of green / coniferous aromatics. Later, further adding to the exoticness, are the tobacco and rosewood, which both fill out and darken the fragrance a bit. This accord eventually joins with the heavier woods / light woods base. The drydown is warm and fulfilling and lasts incredibly. It has good sillage and excellent longevity. G11 is an outstanding fragrance. The depth of this fragrance is remarkable. It has a strong masculine character, but it is not loud – it’s more the strong, silent type. Its character is not in its excessiveness or dramatic persona; its character is quiet confidence, well-balanced individuality, and creativity.

Blu Mediterraneo Arancia is definitely an orange fragrance. When I first sprayed it, I thought that it’s a for-sure purchase: It smelled clean and clear citrus orangey… for the first seven or so minutes. Then it became orange Life Savers with an alleged case of B.O. The “Live Saver” effect was caused, I think, by the loss of citrus and the entry of a strong bergamot. The B.O. meant there’s cardamom in there. I usually like cardamom in fragrance and normally I don’t get the B.O. connection with it, but I do get that connection here. The cardamom isn’t strong and it does add a bit of masculinity to the fragrance, which is needed because the fragrance seemed to be heading for the far feminine side of unisex. The fragrance seems to get sweeter as it enters into the base, and I don’t care for that. It also picks up some more green, which is good, I think. In all, I find the fragrance nice but not very unique except that it is curiously warm for a citrus fragrance; I like it more than I dislike it, but its lack of longevity causes me to not even consider it for purchase.

A fragrance obviously aimed at certain formal occasions. It has a traditional rose / geranium ambiance such as found in Domenico Caraceni, but without the tobacco and incense, without the darkness; this is no Domenico Caraceni. I think that Black Tie is rather lack luster. Granted it’s a very nice (masculine? …I don’t think so... Unisex? …Yes) floral nicely balanced, beautifully refined… but it is missing something. I guess saffron might have been the intended hook, but it doesn’t seem to work: I dislike saffron in fragrances, but I can’t even find it in Black Tie. Galbanum, salvia, tuberose, sandalwood, patchouli, vanilla, musk all form the combined accord that I experience, but, as nice as it is, it is blended to the point where I can’t detect the individual notes: This is something that the great Chanels do, and for the Chanels, it works brilliantly… In Black Tie, it is gracefully adequate. The result is that Black Tie seems to me to be all background – nothing up front, nothing on top, nothing underneath. It’s poised, though – it’s both formal and wearable, and it has good longevity on my skin. I can see myself purchasing this. I’m calling it a thumbs up because it is unquestionably refined, discreet, and secure, and there are occasions when I wish to wear such a dignified and sophisticated scent that doesn’t call attention to itself.

Taolady is spot on… strange scent. I know for sure that there’s too much saffron in it for me. The rose is very nice, though.

Very unusual… very aromatic… Vicks Vapor Rub gone geranium. I know that geraniums can have a strong aromatic projection, I didn’t think it could be a mega package of eucalyptus, menthol, and uber geranium, which is what it smells like close to the skin. Its sillage smells like aromatic geranium and shows a lot of presence. I neither like nor dislike this fragrance. I find it intellectually interesting, but I think it is one of those “I wouldn’t want to smell like this” fragrances. I’m sure that there are people who might want this as their fragrance and I applaud them because it does what it does beautifully, but for me it’s a neutral.

The description says “dark and spicy Oriental bouquet” and that is an excellent description. The spicy occurs primarily in the first several minutes of the fragrance and then I lose most of the spices and Nile becomes more resinous and aromatic than spicy. I assume that there are supposed to be some florals in the mix, but if there is, they do not show themselves to me. For a while I appreciate the strength and the uniqueness of the aromatically dark neutrality, but it is not really interesting enough to hold my attention for long. From the heart notes doesn’t change much, and it never seems to develop a base that could be labeled Oriental. Nile does a good job of being dark, it has good sillage and very good longevity. It should have a more interesting base.

The opening is very fruity – tangerine, but it quickly morphs into a strawberry smell, where it remains for a while. Thus far it is pleasant, light, sweet and feminine. It holds onto that strawberry feel for quite a while, keeping the florals at bay until they eventually progress into a bouquet of honeysuckle and lily; I don’t get the tea note that is supposed to be in the middle, but the florals are quite nice. The dry down is a quite weak musk that has little variety, little projection but good longevity as a skin scent. Zephyr is a nice, subtle, fruity feminine scent. It could stand to be more interesting.

Resin with super aromatics… immediately. What really strikes me first is its resinousness. These are not just some lightweight, vaporous aromatics – there is real substance behind and supporting those medicinal tones. The resins and spices and flowers provide a strong background and give the fragrance a depth that I have never before seen in a similar “classic” potpourri or spicy scent. Those supporting accords also provide a much better longevity than I have seen in similar scents. This is a very admirable fragrance. Actually, I don’t know how the potpourri concept can miss: Potpourris are so lively and spicy and bright, and they so quickly invoke pleasant memories of the past. Santa Maria Novelle’s Potpourri is likely the most classic and the best potpourri fragrance I’ve come across.

The aoud in Red Aoud is quite tamed. Compared to most of the other aouds of the earlier Montales, I find the aoud in this absolutely enjoyable. With aoud and red pepper and those other spices – saffron (hate it) and cumin (love it) – in the list of notes, I was expecting something that would be too over the top for me. This one is NOT over the top. It is precisely on target as a refined and balanced aoud / spice / and (what smells like) rose fragrance. To me, it is the most wearable and enjoyable aoud that I’ve found in the Montale stable because the aoud and the rose are kept at a realistic vibrational level and the rich notes and accords are comfortable and well proportioned. I may just have to buy this one…

Another Turkish delight gourmand: fruit and nuts and sweet, sweet, sweet. I suppose every niche fragrance company with an adequate product line has to do one of these. If you want one of these Turkish Delight fragrances, and are thinking of Montale’s Mukhallat, I would suggest you check out the competition, including Montale’s own Sweet Oriental Dreams. Mukhallat replaces the sweet sweets in Sweet Oriental Dreams with synthetics… not an adequate replacement. This one’s headache inducing and completely unworthy.

I’ve been growing less fond of the lavender, herb, citrus combination the more I encounter it in fragrances. Sliver Aoud doesn’t do anything to change my opinion of that. But I must say that it is an accomplished and refined scent that exhibits warmth and uniqueness. This is one of the lighter Aoud intensities in the Montale aouds. The aoud in this one doesn’t dominate to the exclusion of the other notes. As a matter of fact, I can barely tell it’s there. Once the opening lavender has settled down a bit, the geranium, cedarwood, and occasionally the vetiver dominate with an accord that stays with the fragrance through most of its lifespan. The drydown is quite simple – primarily cedar and tonka bean. Sliver Aoud is a nicely put together fragrance that has some very nice movements.

I just wrote a review of Aoud Flowers, which I didn’t care for because of the potent aromatic aoud note… This is more like it! The aoud acts as a partner in this one rather than a control freak dominatrix. The scent is brightly floral and spicy with a very nice aoud note that is strong enough to give it character. I could almost swear I smell some indole in there, too: For an occasional few seconds now and again, I am reminded of the old-fashioned chypre category that I love. Feminine? Maybe... but it doesn't come across that way on my skin: The aoud's presence makes sure of that. This scent holds a lot more intrigue for me that the ones with super aouds. What I don’t love about Aoud Red Flowers is the saffron note – I just don’t care for saffron as a note in my fragrances. But even with the saffron, this one is a thumbs up for sure. 127

This is another Montale where, to my nose, the Aoud grabs complete control of the opening and maintains a strangle hold on the accord. I get aoud with a weak mixed floral – primarily rose – background, and the aoud hangs on forever, it seems. In many of the more recent Montale Aoud offerings, the potency of the aoud has been reduced and with each reduction, there has been a corresponding increase in my appreciation of the fragrance. With Aoud Flowers the aoud is back with a vengeance. It’s not that I dislike aoud, it’s just that there are now six or seven Montale fragrance that present themselves to my nose in a such a way that they are basically the same potently aromatic wood fragrance with some miniscule variation in the background. I already own two of these aromatic aoud power houses and, to my nose, there isn't that much difference between them to justify further adding to the aoud collection… I don’t need to own another like that. I like the background in this one and I think it would make an excellent fragrance for one whose nose doesn't find the aoud all out of proportion.

I don’t get the mandarin or the bergamot in the opening: I get loads of strawberry: I am reminded of XS Black. Then there is a shift to blackberry, but the strawberry mystique remains in the background. I don’t find the berry accord as sophisticated as the accord in, say, L’Artisan’s Mere et Musc. In Fruits of the Musk the notes and balance lack the L'Artisan refinement. I get minimal rose in the accords, and that is quite disappointing because all I’m really getting out of this is a serving of strawberry shortcake. Fruits of the Musk eventually settles down to that sweet berry note – with a strong white musk from the base. No, this scent makes rather poor use of its notes, as far as I’m concerned. Even XS Black does a better job of interpreting and presenting the berries. Fruits of the Musk falls quite short.

A light unsharp citrus – I can believe mandarin – opens up with spices; I get ginger and cardamom. Yes, I think there is some pepper in there even though it isn’t listed, (I consider myself lucky because I’m rather anosmic to pepper-like notes). 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 it is lotus flower – I believe the floral isn’t meant as an individual floral note, but simply to round out and provide body for the tea / spices. The drydown is wood (what is Indian wood, anyway? Wood from India?) but primarily sandalwood. I join a long list of reviewers who don’t smell the chocolate. Smelled close to the skin most of these notes are quite clear, pure, and strong, and I admire that. As a sillage maker, Omnia doesn’t do a lot of that… it creates a rather translucent, not overly sweet, feminine fragrance that is a genuine delight.

There’s nothing I can add to castorpollux’s (or the others' ) review. Touch of sun is a very pleasant smelling citrus fragrance. … it performs well… it's nothing new… nice scent.

I don't like the opening– only one word popped into my mind: “cheap!” …but “bubble gum” or “air freshener” would have worked just as well. So… this is the she-wolf? Frankly, I don’t get the train of thought that resulted in that name. Louve opens with a sweet, sweet bitter almond / cherry accord that doesn’t smell very rich or refined to me – just sweet. It has a definite marzipan thing going for it at first, and then it seems to change to cherry cough syrup for its heart notes, but those are just preliminaries – they have very little to do with the remainder of the fragrance. The main run of the fragrance is a sweet, powdery almond accord that moves in close to the skin, and stays there for a long, long time. It is a feminine scent that is quite pleasant – certainly refined, uberly powdery, I suppose, but I don’t find it very intriguing – it’s a very nice skin scent...

The person who wants a subtle, sweet, feminine skin scent (and this one really should be considered) might be turned off by the opening: They should probably not smell this for the first five minutes… Personally, I think there are many, many fragrances available (most of them quite a bit less expensive) that can equal or exceed the performance of Louve as a subtle skin scent, but this one is worthy of a testing.

There is not just rose and sandalwood in Kamary – or if that's all there is, the sandalwood is not a typical sandalwood – it’s distorted and terrible. But I think that there is another note in there that messes up my nose: Feels like a very weak leather to me… I have also seen a saffron suggestion for that mystery note and that could also be it. At any rate, this is probably a very nice rose / sandalwood fragrance, but my nose doesn’t interpret it that way. I say thumbs down but I suggest you try it if you are looking for a rose / sandalwood fragrance – it might be just a skin reaction issue with me.

Starts out sharp. Sharp and a bit sour or bitter: Actually the opening is very enjoyable in spite of its near icepick like sharpness. I don’t get the usual Pledge ambiance with this sour citrus but there is a trace of plastic underneath – not enough to bother me, though. When the opening has dissipated a little, a grassy green moves in to join with a less sharp citrus note. I like this part… but then it moves to a floral, and, while it’s a very nice floral, it makes the fragrance too feminine for me. It’s a lively, interesting scent, but I’m kind of hesitant to give it a thumb’s up… but it’s so darned close… Oh, I Wikipeded Aizen Myo-o and he was originally a Hindu... then a Buddhist deity who was the god of love and lust – so there you have it.

There’s a typhoon going on outside and the sirens are going off, so I thought it would be a good time to test out Demeter Rain. What is that note in there that doesn’t smell like rain? Lots of different opinions given here. To me I would say it smells sort of like a dog that’s been out in the rain and has just been rubbed down with sliced cucumbers. Maybe it doesn’t smell right to me because I approached it with a prejudiced mind. I didn’t think that even Demeter would be able to capture the essence of rain, and I was right.

Violet leaf and (probably) leather. My two most disliked notes. I don’t like this one at all.

Crystal Aoud has a stronger aoud note than many Montale aouds, so, to my nose, the aoud dominates to the point that the other notes are marginalized. I get melon and apple, but they remain way in the background while the aoud retains complete control. The background reminds me a bit of Millésime Imperial. Combining Millesime Imperial with aoud, does create an impressive parentage… rather a royal fragrance, and, in spite of the dominant aoud presence, I do I enjoy this scent. I like the mildness of it, and the fruit in the background are beautifully poised and balanced, and they don’t go crazy on me, as fruity fragrances are sometimes apt to do. With aouds I’ve found that with continued exposure to a fragrance, the potency of the aoud diminishes to my nose. Chances are I will eventually love this, but not here and not now...

Red Vetyver is a different approach to vetiver: It comes on spicy and warm. I suppose the purpose for its warmth is to contrast with the coolness of vetiver. The problem with this is that I haven’t been able to find the vetiver: The accord gives almost every evidence that the vetiver is there, but I can’t quite pull out the identifiable vetiver note. The same goes for the grapefruit note. I do not find any “coolness” in the form of grapefruit: The pepper, patchouli, and cedar predominate to my nose to the point of becoming ethereally aromatic.

In spite of the lack of identifiable vetiver, grapefruit, and cool, I thoroughly enjoy this fragrance. I find the rather linear spicy wood accord very rich in itself and particularly enjoyable – addictive even. Furthermore, The scent has a excellent longevity and good projection: Its rich and masculine aroma is particularly inviting and wearable. Red Vetyver is, along with Blue Amber, the best Montale non-aoud I’ve tried. Looks like another purchase.

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This is an beautiful floral… floral with the sweet sharpness of lemon blossom and green apple: A clean, fresh, light, and youthful presentation with an emphasis on violet. Yes, the green apple does have a synthetic vibe, but it doesn’t bother me very much. The chamomile note provides a clean and healthy aspect to the fragrance, and I think that it’s the chamomile’s subdued, healthful neutrality that hold the whole floral and fruity accord together. On my skin, I don't find the accord highly feminine. What there is of the drydown is a neutral skin scent – pretty much a milder continuation of the bouquet accord, it’s a bit sweeter that the bouquet, and it has pathetic longevity.

Sunset Flowers is quite wearable. It isn’t often that I am impressed by non-aoud, floral Montale, but I find the floral combinations in this particular one quite attractive, which is unusual for me considering my aversion to violet. Sunset Flowers, I think, gets its name because, like the sunset, it is brilliant for a few minutes and then disappears under the horizon: It’s short duration forces a neutral rating.

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 is a sea of tea. Nice. It has a solid drydown that is smooth and richer than the typical modern designer releases. Nthny is absolutely correct in that this is a lighter version of Lalique Equus. I prefer this one because of the muted violet leaf and the cleaner, less aromatic woods. One of the better modern releases…

I took my time in reaching a conclusion about this one because several basenoters said that this is a scent that is not what it seems at first – that there’s a depth to it that shows itself with repeated use. This was very good advice because it didn’t seem very impressive to me with the first few testings. The top notes, while not disagreeable, seem a bit too conflicting. The ginger and the ozone do not seem a match made in heaven, and from my own personal point of view I don’t care much for the violet in the middle (Why oh why are they putting violet in every new scent nowdays?) The violet really isn’t strong enough to bother me though… and I really like the basil flower: I’ve long been a fan of those pungent beauties. It’s the drydown where the fragrance really comes into its own. The drydown is conflicting, but this time the conflict is interesting and purposeful. YSL L’Homme is a subtle presentation that did take me a while to grasp its nuances… While I thing that there are some elements in the fragrance that could stand improving, I have found out that it is not the washed out concoction I thought it was when I first tested it. This is certainly a test before you buy fragrance.

I find this a beautiful, if 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 predictable, too. It’s an iris, conifer, and floral accord, with jasmine and rose comprising the florals… nothing edgy in it, but very, very nice. The base? No surprise here either: patchouli, sandalwood, and musk. Classic ingredients, classic proportions…classic fragrance. L’Eau du Tailleur is a beautiful fragrance form top to bottom: Good sillage, excellent longevity, very strong masculinity in a sophistication package. Wonderful fragrance... don’t expect uniqueness... just beauty and quality.

I should have read the reviews here before I tried this on my skin: I had a devil of a time trying to scrub it off. The initial accord isn’t bad in the sense that it’s a terrible odor…it isn’t a terrible odor. I just got a kind of low-grade nausea out of it, but for a while it did seem rather natural – like some sort of non-acidic vomit – I don’t think that’s what they mean by a magnificent secretion. Within a matter of minutes, though, it worsened to a metallic, salty tasting (yes, tasting!) medium-grade nausea, and I’m just not understanding the whole exercise. I don’t get any of those dramatic effects out of Sécrétions Magnifiques – I get no bodily fluids. I don’t get horrid smells out of this. I’m barely interested in the smells that I get. Mainly, I get “not pleasant” and “quite a bit boring.” It’s metallic, it’s non-mammal fecal, it’s chemical, it’s salty, it’s cheap hairspray, it’s skinning a squirrel for supper, but mostly it’s ho hum…

The blurbs that I read on this fragrance say that this is simply supposed to be Eau de Cartier in concentrated form… it is not supposed to be a different scent. First of all, I’m not sure I want a stronger concentration: part of the reason I love Eau de Cartier is its subtlety and its quiet, reticent elegance. Next, I believe that the formula has been changed in more ways than just changing the concentrations. The yuzu is gone from the concentrated version and the violet presence has been increased significantly. Since I dislike a strong violet presence in a fragrance, this is bad news for me.

I like the non concentrée version of Eau de Cartier much better. This one feels a bit sharp and synthetic to me where the original didn’t, and I completely dislike the stronger infusion of violet leaves. Lost is a lot of the original Eau de Cartier’s subtlety and quiet freshness. This is not so subtle and its freshness has that sharpness to it. But I do see this as a well made fragrance… people who like violet notes may very well find this worth testing. What’s nice about this is that we’ve got a choice between the two versions… I’ve made mine...

The opening is a nicely balanced aromatic green… The note that is easiest for me to pick out is the lavender; in fact, the lavender grabs prominence and holds on to it through the whole fragrance. In the past several years, lavender has lost much of its charm for me, and I am disappointed that it is so prominent and lasting in the accords of this fragrance. It holds center stage from the opening to the last of the drydown. Except for the lavender and the aromatics that I assume are from the mint and geranium, I can’t pick out individual notes until the drydown where the benzoin, tobacco, and labdanum rise up to claim their own identity out of the amorphous green. I don’t get woods, and I don’t get moss. The fragrance has limited longevity, although it does remain as a discreet skin scent for an hour or two. I enjoy the skin scent phase of it.

The accords, lavender included, are so well done that I can’t help but admire the artisan quality they present, but, subtle and beautiful as it seems to be, it is also lavender, lavender, lavender, making Nicolai pour Homme a must try for the lavender lover. I’ll pass.

Whoa! The first blast comes on strong as if it is an imp that couldn’t wait to get out of the bottle. Dana O’Shee is a Serge Lutens Rahat Loukhoum type fragrance – at least at first it is, but it very quickly loses its potency. I’m not sure I would even call a gourmand… More like an almond honey sweetness that’s actually quite comfortable and huggable on the skin. Rather nice, but in the end, I get tired of simply sweet smells quickly. It has a decent longevity.

This review is for the reissued Cravache. The original, as I’m told, had a definite leather note while this one doesn’t. My first sniff of Cravache brought to mind a more sedate Chanel Pour Monsieur – I don’t know why I thought that because they are not really alike. Cravache is missing the warmth of Monsieur and it is a little more formal, but there’s a certain dignity, a certain masculinity, a certain distance, and a certain history about it that that tie it to the classics and make it one of the more intriguing fragrances I’ve tried in a long time. Caltha mentions aldehydes and powder and I don’t get those, although I do get the mentioned freshness. I don’t get an overload of spices because I find the sage, lavender, and nutmeg quite reticent, very smooth, and superbly balanced. The dry down is just plain graceful: a soft cushion of patchouli and vetiver surrounding that cool core of dignified and softly fresh masculinity. Yet all the while the fragrance holds in the far background something that is a tiny bit out of place – it has just enough offness that I never surrender completely to the siren song of the fragrance; I keep half alert listening to, hesitating about that distance drum beat… In other words, it is a very masculine scent.

I was unprepared for the strong aromatics in the opening. The aromatic greens come through full force – it’s almost too much. I don’t smell the bergamot in the opening at all. When the aromatics settle down, I’m left with something pretty forgettable: I guess it must be the lavender and vetiver, but it doesn’t smell as interesting as it sounds. For the drydown I get a soft wood accord (cedar and patchouli) off in the distance with the lavender and the vetiver of the heart notes continuing with a slightly stronger central accord. I find Cerruti 1881 a strange fragrance: Its opening is harsh and aggressive, and its heart and base are too discreet. It lacks longevity on my skin, which seals its fate as a neutral vote from me.

Not too bad – I’ve tested many worst Calvin Klein fragrances. The opening is clean but a little too sweet – fruity sweet – for my tastes. It has a little of the usual Calvin Klein signature synthetic tinge to it, but I’m getting so used to that, that I’m beginning to tolerate it. The basil of the middle seems to magnify the sweet fruitiness, which soon becomes a bit excessive… starts to cloy. And this threat of cloying isn’t helped by the base, either, because the woods come off as sweet, also. Still, there’s a green freshness to the fragrance that feels rather good. The sillage is average and the longevity is acceptable. Truth is not a very creative or refined, or beautiful fragrance, but it’s ok.

Impressive opening…I like it even though I don’t like the violet note in it. It has a rustic herbal / green aromatic element and it is quite dry (maybe the violet is responsible for the rustic feeling that I’m getting.) . It’s a somewhat dramatic, masculine accord – not typical of a 2007 fragrance; maybe masculinity is coming back in fashion. The middle is equally as nice: spicy pepper (not overdone) with other more muted spices and with raspberry for just the right touch of sweetness. I’m glad they went easy on the sweetness – this is a nicely balanced and refined fragrance. Neither the top nor the middle is really strong, sillage wise, which is a proper concession to modern expectations, I think. The base notes get even softer, but they do retain the dry masculinity as a very nice skin scent. In the base I still get the thyme from the top and the pepper from the middle, and I get a very nice cedar / chocolate accord that complements the herb-spice beautifully. The amber is pleasantly in the background. Hey! Very good product, Lacoste, but next time, give it a little more longevity, really…

Oh, I’ve smelled this so many times without realizing which fragrance it was. It is so familiar and so recognizable. Its bright and lively citrus / fruity opening is quickly supported by the peach and mixed floral middle, creating an accord that is hard to mistake, hard to ignore: Fruity, round, full, and classic… with a delicate touch of the eerie and the disreputable. It is such a fulfilling and comfortable entity, but there are loose ends of intrigue hidden beneath its surface. It has substance… it has personality. One sniff and there’s no doubt… this one’s a classic.

Haunted is a warm, uber powdery amber and black musk scent. I’m afraid the powder, amber, and musk dominate to the point of excluding everything else but a shadowy hint of lemon when it moves into the drydown. It has very good longevity. It’s nothing I would wear but it is quite sexy and sensually feminine.

The main characteristic of Dragon’s Milk is that it is super sweet. No kidding, it might be the sweetest fragrance I’ve smelled. It’s a honey, cherry sweetness that has a sweet-milk sweetness added to it – it smells gooey. There’s definitely a floral quality to it and there’s a bit of smokiness in the far background, but mainly it’s sweet. Cloying and it lasts forever.

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 rather enjoy Explorer: This is a chancy departure for Ralph Lauren… And Explorer and Polo Double Black seem to begin to show that maybe RL is again getting serious about creating decent fragrances. I welcome that… it’s been a long dry spell and it would be excellent to find a deserving heir to Polo Green and Safari.

Aromatics and anise – I’m trying to mentally tie these notes to the concept of heroes… It doesn’t compute; the anise, (as in, ahem, Lolita Lempicka) doesn’t really fit the hero mystique... not even with a ripe imagination. It’s a nice scent if you like highly aromatic anise. It is pleasant and very well put together. There’s some clove in there, too, and after a long spell of anise, the fragrance settles down to an quite good cedarwood, patchouli, and tonka base – personally, I would prefer more wood and less tonka, and I flatter myself to think that the heroes would, too.

Royals Heroes is a darn good scent – refined, balanced, attractive, masculine, good sillage and longevity – but the propensity of the wearer to stand up to the dominance of anise should be taken in consideration. For me, it’s a neutral.

A light, sharp, rather straightforward lavender – quite stark and very nice. The lavender in the opening is of the sharp, aromatic variety rather than the creamy, smooth variety. The vanilla is recessive and so is the ambergris. As the lavender smooths out, it has a musky feel to it. Then the light herbals begin to kick in providing a fresh clean feeling for a while… it’s a rustic but very attractive heart accord, and maybe I should call it the drydown, too, because I lose track of the scent in a little while, and it never comes back – its longevity is quite poor. I’m not usually very fond of lavender fragrances, but this one I definitely would buy if it boasted of a better life span.

Strongly agarwood, or, possibly, as simonrishel says… fake agarwood… whatever. I don’t actually like Bouquet, but it is rather interesting in an educational sort of way. Since I don’t like saffron in fragrances, I rather like the fact that the agarwood – fake or not – overpowers the spices here. To me this smells very much like many of the Montale agarwoods – the original ones that presented a strong agarwood presence. Just as in those Montales, I get a powerful aromatic presence that seems a cross between shellac and a powerful eucalyptus. The “agarwood” in those overwhelms everything else to my nose, too, just as the agarwood in this one does. As I said, I don’t really like this, but I think it’s interesting enough that I’ll buy a small bottle of it for my collection.

White Aoud does a soft take on aoud; it is creamy with a mellow vanilla tinge. This is an aoud that I find quite sensual, and the sensuality comes, I believe, not so much from the aoud, but more from the delicate rose, jasmine, sandalwood, and, especially, vanilla. I’m not one who likes most vanillas – very often they are too sweet and cloying for me, but this vanilla seems less about itself and more about its ability to contribute to the smoothness of the other notes. The rose is muted, the jasmine is introverted, the sandalwood is soft and echoes the smoothness of the vanilla. White Aoud gets where it gets because of the sweet delicacy of its rose, jasmine, and sandalwood shadowed by its almost airy aoud. I find it sensual. It’s not intriguing, it’s not rich, it’s not breath taking, it is soft and sensual. A lovely fragrance... the longevity is quite good because of the skin scent drydown.

Synthetic and generic, I’m afraid that Atavar is not a very good fragrance. I don’t really pick up much in notes or accords in this except a synthetic, metallic smell that presents strong sillage but poor longevity. The metallic note presents a lot of headache induction potential and is not as enjoyable as the metallics of Chrome or L’Anarchiste. For someone who rather likes the metallic aspect of Avatar, I would instead recommend Chrome, which is a similar but a much better fragrance altogether.

I have smelled this before many times… I just never knew what I was smelling. Oh, yes, this has often made an impression on me and I suppose I never asked, “What perfume are you wearing?” Aromatic Elixir is herbaceous green and white floral with a model chypre drydown. It presents a determinedly aromatic herbaceous green opening with an accent of verbena presence (It had me at verbena): so sensual and sophisticated. The sensuality comes from the floral center, where, unlike several other reviewers, I don’t get rose but I do get an assertively represented jasmine and tuberose, and you know where those lead to… indoles! The combination of the aromatic greens with the white florals with a hit of verbena is stunning. This top / middle accord has some serious longevity, and then dries down to a super lasting patchouli / floral accord with enough oakmoss and vetiver green to make it a definite chypre. To my nose Aromatic Elixir could be the paradigm for the sensual, sophisticated chypre. As a fragrance it is potent and should be used with discretion: I must admit that I have at times been turned off by this scent when it was obviously over applied.

According to The Different Company website, this fragrance is called "Un Parfum de Charmes et Feuilles," not "Charmes et Fleurs." Charmes et Fleurs doesn't fit this fragrance at all: It is definitely a charming and leaves construction.

Un Parfum de Charmes et Feuilles, meaning “charms and leaves,” I believe, is one of those fragrances that has grown much 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 balancedt. 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.

I feel as if I’m doing half a review on this fragrance. I’ve ordered a decant and will continue to delve into the secrets it is protecting. In the meantime I must say that I love what I’m getting from charms and leaves: the rustic feeling I get because of the mint, thyme, and sage – they add an attractively palpable earthy dimension to the elegantly direct floral accords: Minimalism with a charming bucolic shadow done with deft artistry. Maybe that’s what the real meaning of its name is: It charms and then it leaves me curious…

Because I disliked the 1996 so much, I took my precious time to test this one. I needn’t have avoided the confrontation – London 2006 is a very good fragrance. First there is a very catching opening: an attractive accord of bergamot, lavender, and spices. Those references to Christmas are appropriate. The bergamot and lavender are nicely proportioned and the accord is completed by cinnamon leaves, which provide elements of both spice and green. Cinnamon leaves are more muted than the spice alone would be, and the result is a classy opening accord that becomes quite addictive. The middle accord, too, presents some unusual notes – port wine and mimosa that are presented on a platform of soft leather. Nice smelling alcohol is always a nice addition as far as I’m concerned. Unfortunately these notes do not come through as strongly as I think they should. And they quickly lose what little substance they had. The base is too recessive for my tastes. It is a woody / mossy accord that is quite dignified but I wish it would be a bit stronger. I don’t get tobacco out of the base accord. This is / could be such an excellent fragrance and I’m opting for a thumbs up, but I won’t be buying it because I’m disappointed with its strength and, especially, its longevity.

The first accord is very fruity – the pyramid says pomegranate but my nose interprets peach or maybe fig…perhaps the bergamot has its effect on the fruit notes. Whatever. The persistent fruit note is in control of the fragrance. Gradually a florals appear: A light floral – sweet pea. Besides the sweet pea, I don’t get rose or any other floral in the mixture. The fruit notes remain for the entire run of the fragrance into the long, skin-scent drydown where I can detect only a touch of sandalwood among the fruitiness. Coral is too fruity for me – it seems just a simple, straight forward fruit juice without much variety.

An aromatic fougere that opens a little too strongly as far as I’m concerned. That very first blast is too artificial for me, but it does lose its plastic aggressiveness very quickly and settles down to a fully sniffable green fougere opening. The aromatic label is well-deserved and the airiness contributes nicely to the ambiance of the fragrance. I believe there might be a little lavender in the opening that provides just the right touch of richness to the opening freshness. The “spices” are on the herbal end of the spice scale and they accent the fougereness of 24K. It is a rich fougere scent and the name is appropriate. There is no distinct heart accord so the top / heart forms one quite long lasting accord. When the base appears it shows itself as a light skin hugging sandalwood / vetiver / sweet accord that is very nice but which should deliver a much stronger presence for a longer period of time. Jivago 24K is a pleasant, rather rich fougere that has few flaws, but it is ultimately non-challenging and it just doesn’t rise above a 6 on a scale of 10. The liquid in the bottle contains gold flecks and about the only thing they accomplish for me is the uneasy feeling that they are going to plug up the spray mechanism.

This is more like it… this one has some character. It has shadowy elements of earthiness, darkness, and dryness. The spices (rather exotic ones) control almost everything to my nose and this results in a good thing: it catches interest and provides a direction, a theme: meditative esoterica. In the background threads a musky, vanilla-y sandalwood that is solid and respectable and more than competent. The balance is superb and the ambiance is the olfactory version of immersion in a trance …

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 diminuative. 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. Oh well… You can’t hate this one…

I was expecting not to like this one, but that didn’t happen. Fleur du Mâle is not nearly as floral or a sweet as I was expecting, and it has an interesting and unique take on the approach to a male floral fragrance. The uniqueness strikes me immediately upon application: The Petitgrain opening has, as zztopp says, a definite wood aspect to it… I find it a little startling, even – at any rate it forces me to drop my assumptions and to take notice of what is really happening. Besides the character of the Petitgrain, the opening is also influenced by the middle fern accord and the coumarin of the base. These three – Petitgrain, fern, and coumarin, along with the orange blossom floral – are responsible for the entire ambiance of the fragrance. It’s a simple fragrance and does lack complexity, but that is not a problem because its uniqueness, directness, and balance result in an interesting and enjoyable (even a bit compelling) masculine fragrance.

The bottle is too much. But I believe that its excessiveness is part of the business plan: I look at the bottle and I expect the fragrance to be crass, flamboyant, and over-the-edge vulgar, but it isn’t… the fragrance presents an admittedly edgy, though acceptable message: it is interesting, enjoyable, well put together, and not anywhere near the libertine that the bottle suggests. The florals don’t go overboard, the synthetics are manageable, the sweetness is disguised and likable. Certainly not a fragrance for me, but likely a good possibility for a young person with a spirit of adventure. Fleur du Mâle works...

Synthetic citrus opening obliquely similar to several of the other fragrances in its category: It’s a strange accord, the combination of citrus notes is a little icky, but the synthetic feel to the citrus is rather nice. I actually like the synthetics background better that the fruit notes. Where it goes from there is predictable. It picks up some unusual miscellaneous notes that bear no relationship to each other but the names of the notes might possibly impress the group that the fragrance is aimed at: there’s pimento and shiso and cocoa… wow. As usual with this class of fragrance, the base is negligible in strength and it doesn’t last very long. CK In 2U Him isn’t too bad: it's attractive in its own way. It’s quite typical of the later endeavors of Calvin Klein: Pleasant, mediocre quality, not so mediocre price tag...

I’m not a vanilla fan, but I loved Montale's Bois Vanille. This is another vanilla creation by Montale that I like very much. Where Bois Vanille was vanilla and wood, Vanilla Extasy is more complex: It is vanilla, jasmine, and wood with the sweetening touch of apricot. I find that it develops well on my skin. The opening is a strong rich, not super sweet vanilla note, and after several minutes, it picks up a jasmine and apricot vibe, which holds for a very long time. It closes with a vanilla, floral, apricot, and sandalwood accord that has excellent longevity. Of course the vanilla makes it seem less varied, but I find more than sufficient movement in the fragrance. Another thumbs up for another Montale vanilla fragrance.

Catchy citrus / floral opening – the grapefruit is especially notable for its excellent sharp and sour citrus clarity – as simple as it is, it’s a natural, refreshing, and enjoyable note , but it certainly doesn’t last longer than a few minutes. The middle accords show up with a spicy / herbal / floral feel: most clearly presented is a light cloves leading into a dusty rose accord. The rose doesn’t strike me as very floral and I don’t smell the ylang-ylang at all: This level, too, is done with delicacy and refinement, but, like the opening, the middle doesn’t last for very long. The base announces itself with the aromatics of the gaiiac note which is immediately joined by the sandalwood. There’s an incense that joins the base accord and I find the accords quite compelling, but, alas, the base also has limited longevity.

I like this fragrance and I like the idea of a natural organic fragrance. It’s well made, discreet, refined, and spectacularly nonsynthetic. I think it does provide aromatherapeutic benefits because it feels good in a way that I’m not used to with fragrances. Its longevity is exactly what one would expect of a natural fragrance – minimal; but I don’t think is it that much shorter in duration as a few other L’Artisans that I have tried. L'Eau de Jatamansi has given me enough pleasure and satisfaction that I intend to continue seeking out natural fragrances. The cost is not out of line for a fragrance of this quality: It is a very good fragrance and a needed idea and it deserves a thumbs up.

The Demeter version of hay made me sick to my stomach – this one is so much better. But I do have a difficult time calling this Santa Maria Novella version “hay.” It doesn’t really smell like the hay that I’m familiar with. If I use the Italian “Fieno,” I can ease my conscience in respect to truth in labeling. The beautiful, rustic opening is quite catching – it is very rose dominated to my nose. The accord is rose and fieno …something dryly vegetal, neutral, and unaffected. For three or four minutes I could believe that that background note is hay, if I force my imagination. It’s actually a beautiful background note but it doesn’t stay long because the accord quickly develops a full floral background – rose and myrtle, says the pyramid, I say rose. I love it. I love its simple and rustic rose note, and I can easily see myself wearing it. The drydown is soft – a bit herbal, sweet, and powdery: too powdery for my tastes, but in a pastoral fragrance like this, it is forgivable. I appreciate Fieno because of its charm and simplicity. There’s that rural pleasantness about it. That note that is supposed to be hay is very nice. The fragrance seems to have an acceptable longevity. This one is a definite purchase.

Third vote for Drakkar Noir here. I’m not a fan of Drakkor, but I recognize the similarity, and I could actually learn to like THIS version if I devoted tons of effort to it. Somehow, the most annoying parts of Drakkor Noir to me (lavender and moss) have been removed, and I find an very good citrus / conifer / sage / amber fragrance that only hints at my usual annoyance: That hint is enough to keep me from purchasing this, but I’m here to say that Madini’s Almaktomb is THE ultimate, THE good version of Drakkor, if it were only possible to have a good version…

Beautiful: An unembelished, straightforward, warm amber that shows that amber CAN stand on its own. This one seems undistilled, unpurified, unpasturized, unprocessed: The “rawness” and “impurities” provide such depth and breadth to the natural amber ambiance, that I can easily see it as a whole fragrance. I see this as a winter fragrance that is more casual that my favorite formal amber – Ambre Precieux. Madini’s Ambre is sweet but not cloying. It’s exotic and natural at the same time, and I find it a comfortable wear.

The scent, as well as the color of the oil, is deep, black, and rich. Black Musk is, of course, very musky and there’s a distant element of a dark, sweet, fruity aroma to it. For the first half hour to hour, I’m afraid it is almost a cliché… It’s like the backgrounds of myriads of personal products I’ve used for many years so I view it sort of like air – it is an enjoyable scent but it seems like background to me, like something is missing. With the arrival of the middle level, the scent gains more character: I agree with simonrishel that there is a plumy sweetness and tamarind sparkle to the middle level notes – and with this it becomes a more compelling fragrance. With the base, the fragrance broadens out to add a tiny bit of wood, I believe, to make a totally desirable skin scent. I love the long lasting, refined and subtle base.

This is an interesting interpretation of chamomile – it doesn’t smell like the chamomile flower or leaf or chamomile tea, but it does suggest chamomile. It has a bit of complexity… more like a genuine fragrance than a Demeter. It is quite floral – white floral, I think, but it probably has a little green in the mix because it has a sharper presence than the typical basic white floral. After a while, the suggestion of a chamomile note disappears and all that’s left is a very light generic musky floral / green. If it had managed to retain that diminutive suggestion of chamomile, it would have been a much better fragrance.

What a pleasant fragrance! Lively, refreshing, dry, and woody: But not woody in the traditional sense, it’s a sparkling, fresh, version of light wood. It’s drydown is a rich, discreet, primarily woody, low sillage accord that has excellent longevity. For being a Madini, it’s quite unique and trendy… unique and trendy in the very best sense. I was unsure that about the chypre designation until Chipre was into its drydown: That’s when it showed its true chypre colors, and that’s where it became a gotta have for me. Though Chipre is difficult to describe and categorize, it is totally enjoyable; and it’s something that should be on the to-test list of every chypre lover.

I am having a devil of a time trying to remember where I smelled this before - or something like it: It’s very familiar and I think it smells like some kind of household cleaning product. It doesn’t smell exactly like citron or lime – I am very familiar with those smells and this ain’t them. Madini’s Citron does have a sort of limey / citron smell to it but, especially at first, it has a strong, bitter, medicinal, synthetic "undertow" to it… it’s there under the surface, and, like an undertow, there’s the distinct message of “This is something it’s best to steer clear of.”

Purplebird7 describes it perfectly. The galbanum seems to immediately take over lending a deep, dry, rich woody green accord that reminds me of some of the green heavy hitters of MPG and Diptyque, but much more wearable, loveable, and sniffable. It’s an admirable accord, at once darkly heavy and richly intriguing. The accords are resinously green / woody and the notes are essentially unidentifiable to my nose as individual notes (except for the galbanum), but they surely deliver in the form of a complex, refined whole… Hanane dries down to an excellent combined wood accord and it exhibits great longevity. This fragrance set a near record in making it into my fragrance collection. Love it!

Henna is a beautiful floral, it’s a bit exotic, it’s very feminine, and it’s totally unique. It’s not at all what I was expecting, which was the beautiful smell of the decorative henna hand “tattoos.” This henna is the henna flower – sweet, full, intriguing and reminding me a bit of nag champa, just as purplebird7 says. As full, rich, and floral as it is, it is a remarkably clean scent – an inner cleanliness whose quiet innocence belies its florid richness. This is one of the most excellent solofloral I’ve experienced in a long, long time: It is a must try for the floral lover.

I’ve not experienced many fragrances as dry and stark and strong as this one. I never do catch the florals that are supposed to be included. The only other super dry fragrance that comes to mind is Diptyques’s L’Eau Trois and that one’s dryness is accomplished through herbals rather than through woods: I think this one works better. I find the first hour or two wearing this a bit challenging; the next several hours provide a dry scent whose sensuality keeps my nose glued to my wrist. Maderas de Oriente turns out to be very wearable and endearing. It is an excellent, unique, and intriguing fragrance

Aromatic, resinous, err… sinus clearing: the opening is highly resinous and aromatic. It smells like a somewhat contaminated eucalyptus note. It holds this potent aromatic presence for an hour or more, gradually changing to a reduced aromaticism, slightly bitter, softly incense skin scent that, unfortunately, seems to have little longevity. This final note is the myrrh that I know and love, but it needs to be much stronger and to last longer. It’s an interesting fragrance, but I see it as essentially unwearable. It’s too strong and characterless for the first hour or two and then when it finally settles down to a pleasant note, it is too weak and short lasting.

In Mexico I lived in Colonia Jardin on Calle Nardo. I enjoyed walking down this street because many of the residences on the street boasted tuberose plantings, and the wonderful scent was pervasive. I don’t get the same olfactory experience from this fragrance: I get a strongly aromatic element like a thin, uninteresting, somewhat synthetic eucalyptus, but it is so potent it overwhelms the tuberose note that skulks in the background. That diminutive tuberose note is more green than floral to my nose, and once it surfaces, it has quite good longevity on my skin. This could very well be a skin issue with me, but I’m not very impressed. I did find tha