Fragrance Reviews by Nathan214

Opens up with a seriously foul, rotting vegetation note, but after twenty minutes transforms into one of the most beautiful fragrances I've ever smelled -- an airy, fresh, lightly green and subtly sweet concoction, like warm sunshine on wet roses, thanks to a golden, shimmery musk shot through the heart of it. A creative and intelligent piece of work. The price may stink, but the perfume itself is awesome.

This is a Comme des Garcons patchouli, so it's going to hit you over the head just like everything else Comme des Garcons produces. I'm not certain I've ever smelled a CdG that wasn't singularly insistent in its own way. That said, I love this patchouli. It's richly layered, smooth, warm and a little bit sweet -- and it lasts all day! There's not a bit of the old hippie-dippie quality here, just blatant pandering to the upmarket crowd, and that's not a bad thing. I tried it once and ordered a bottle the next day. I had to have it.

Comme des Garcons Tar comes out of the bottle like the idea of oil-slicked, gasoline-soaked asphalt on a blazing summer day. This is exactly the fragrance you wear to an ex-boyfriend's wedding, or to the In-Laws' house at Christmas. Dark, filthy gruel for the soul. Is to Chanel No. 5 what industrial-strength triple selective herbicide is to your unborn children. Too bad they don't sell this stuff by the gallon, though, as that first heady blast of oil and asphalt disappears in the rear view mirror far too quickly. Oddly sweet and tame at the finish.

In all fairness, Yatagan gets points for not tilting the smell-o-wheel too far toward the citrus fruits, iris flowers and potpourri spices imbuing the majority of its allegedly masculine co-horts. I can appreciate a fragrance that doesn't attempt to smother me in hot-house gardens, grapefruit juice and sandalwood, but dark, dirty, sweaty, smoky or scary, this is not. Just another classic masculine that a woman can easily wear. Ho-hum.

Silver Factory opens with a brief tin-can twang, perhaps in homage to Warhol's Soup Can success, after which it veers smoothly into incense/patchouli territory, powder-puff clutched firmly in hand, seeming for all the world like Marie Antoinette slumming it with a bunch of starving artists in Brooklyn -- a little hippie-dippie, a lot of flower-power pretty. If you're into sandalwood/incense fragrances with some cool florals tossed into the mix, this would be near impossible for you to dislike.

A light, smooth sandalwood is predominant, with a high floral note strategically placed far enough back that it doesn't overwhelm the composition. There's nothing groundbreaking or earthshattering about Warm Sand, but it's soft, pleasant and easy to wear, a genuine accomplishment on its own terms. It also has the added plus of being an incense fragrance that's light enough for consistent summer use.

I'm going to be the odd man out here and say that, to me, Hinoki is not soothing, satisfying, transcendent or ethereal, but instead smells like some juvenile delinquent kicked over a gallon of paint-thinner in the Zen garden. Turpentine? Camphor? No thanks. Comme des Garcons often has a terrific sense of humor in the creation of fragrances (the Synthetic Series is fantastic), but this just smells like a cruel joke, and I could not scrub it off fast enough. Do not inflict this toxic concoction upon the ones you love.

This fragrance just did not do for me what it seems to be doing for everyone else. While I loved how it opened -- that gorgeous dry, dusty desert sage -- the extremely sharp cedar creature it morphed into overwhelmed me until I began to feel like I was buried alive in a cedar coffin. And "Hey That's Life" was spot-on about how it "easily endures 10-12 hours" -- I kept waiting for it to dry down into something less intrusive, but it was just as strong and insistently cedar on me over five hours later until I couldn't stand it any longer and scrubbed it off. For me, L'air du Desert Marocain was the opposite of serene or mesmerizing. If you're not a huge fan of cedar, I suggest taking a pass on this. Maybe go for Timbuktu, instead. On a side note, every woman I've talked to thinks this stuff is sex in a bottle -- but only on themselves or other women.

I gave a bottle of this to a friend of mine, and she was thrilled. She said it was fresh and lively, and that it made her feel like the air around her sparkled. She said it's not sexy or intimidating, but bright and vivacious, instead -- a kind of "Let's kick up our heels and I promise I won't flirt with your husband" scent. It starts off a little soapy, but quickly brightens into citrus and light pepper, then mellows out into a warm, welcoming note. She said it smelled like youth and invigorated her day. She also said the bottle is totally adorable, and whoever designed it was a genius.

I'm a hands-down fan of this fragrance. I've never tried out the original Angel Men, so can't compare the two, but this Pure Coffee version is like distilled joy in a bottle.

It starts off with a whiff of dry woodsmoke, but then immediately stampedes into rich burnt coffee and vanilla interwoven with various notes of chocolate, from bitter to dark to sweetly milky. It fades in and out all day. I'll be typing on my laptop and suddenly the most wonderful aromas of burnt sugar, espresso and steamed milk will waft into my senses and I'll think, "Hey -- what smells so good? Oh, it's ME!"

It's nowhere near being green, or animalic, or anything resembling a traditional masculine. It's a rich gourmand scent that's like taking a blowtorch to a bucket of dark creme de cacao, and it's probably one of the few fragrances you could actually wear to a restaurant without disturbing the surrounding diners.