Perfume Reviews

Reviews by PsychoTommy

Total Reviews: 4

Rien by Etat Libre d'Orange

As soon as ELDO products arrived to a luxury retailer for the first time in Budapest last week, I went down to sample this perfume, I couldn't wait!

Now, am I the only one who thinks this is nothing out of the ordinary? Having read all the brilliantly outraged reviews here, I was expecting a decent amount of skank. I've been wearing the decant since yesterday, and all I get instead is a very dusty, muted leather warmed up by frankincense and spices. I admit, the leather is a bit chemical/tarry along Bvlgari Black's lines, and the whole thing is as beautiful as only a niche perfume can be, but this is certainly nothing groundbreaking...

Upon first application (spray), there's a striking similarity to Bandit (huge amount of old leather and oakmoss), and a few minutes later it turns into none other than the venerable Kouros itself with the leather and incense notes turned up a bit, and the animalic skank (civet) more muted. After about 30 minutes, it's not even that - the whole thing warms up to become a generic leather/frankincense niche thing (along the lines of, let's say, MDO Les Nombres d'Or Cuir), that lasts for quite a time, and projects a little less. In the end, it ends up jawdroppingly similar to Dzing!, without the vanilla and with something camphoraceous in the background (maybe another link to Black's leather notes).

The hype's okay, but if you are looking for a really animalic / chemical / dark leather composition, look elsewhere: Montale's Aoud Cuir d'Arabie eats this thing for breakfast. After an hour, this is less challenging to wear than even Kouros or Salvador Dalí PH. If you want piss, dribble and unwashed parts, Miel de Bois cuts it better.

This is a brilliant perfume with a commencement as long and complex as, say, War and Peace (going from Bandit to Dzing! is no easy feat), but it isn't any more difficult and skanky than Dzing! or Kouros. If those perfumes send you screaming, stay away - otherwise, try it by all means!
22nd March, 2013

Lapidus pour Homme by Ted Lapidus

I've just bought it blind after a couple of weeks of online research. I'm a regular user of Kouros and Salvador Dali PH, and I was expecting something similar after reading the reviews, but it doesn't even come close. (On a theoretical level, it does, both being very '80s - but technically, it's totally different.)

BUT! Ever since I've put it on, I've had a nagging feeling that it reminds me of something, which seemed funny, as I could swear I've never smelled anything like it before. And then it struck me - this juice is SO VERY EFFING SIMILAR to Caron's L'Anarchiste (of which I'm also a big fan and regular user), that I've been laughing loud ever since I realised it! When I first tried L'Anarchiste, it was instant love for the first sniff, as I considered it truly unique with its minty-spicy-metallic fruit note, resembling nothing else on the market. Now it turns out it has a daddy, and it's called Lapidus Pour Homme! The similarity is so striking, I just can't believe it! The only difference is that there's pineapple in this instead of oranges, and pipe tobacco instead of mint, but the rest - the woods, spices and most prominently, the patchouli, even the smokiness - are spot-on the same! Amazing! Can anybody else confirm this? Did nobody else ever notice? O_O

I can't give a more detailed breakdown about the scent, the sillage and the longevity now, as I've just started rocking this thing, but I'll get back to you after I've had some more experience with this - and after getting over the shock that one of my adorably unique perfumes from the 2000s was indeed made up in the '80s! :)
01st August, 2012

Dark Aoud by Montale

This is an amazing fragrance.

It has to be noted that there are other things in the pyramid than sandalwood and aoud (namely black pepper, saffron, vetiver, teak, leather and grey amber), but they stay mostly in the background till the end, almost imperceptible and too well blended, only there to accentuate the interplay between the two woods.

Upon initial application it's almost pure sandalwood, but so fresh, clean and warm that it verges on floral and makes the whole experience bizarrely feminine. After an hour, the bright sandalwood wafts out, leaving only Darkness, with a capital D.

Dark Aoud's mood is not quiet or gothic - it's a bright, crisp, nose-twisting, in-your-face darkness, like a huge black velvet sheet freshly dipped in gasoline and tar wrapped around you. It's brooding in a different way, it's dry, aggressive, upsetting. Darvant here said it's like the scent of death itself - he's right if by death he means suffocating in a burning chemical/petrol refinery plant amongst barrels of gasoline and some freshly carved ebony coffins. I know it all sounds morbid, but this dark, smoky, medicinal and camphoraceous perfume does conjure up such images, and still, wearing it feels SO right, so comfortable.

After the first few hours of application, I can hardly imagine a woman pulling it off (unless she's one of Star Trek's The Borg), and it could only be considered elegant if it wasn't so eminently dark and different.

I had no problems with its longevity; it does get around you quickly and stays, even after a long shower.

An amazing fragrance - if you're into heavy scents, this is impossible not to like.
02nd February, 2012
Advertisement — Reviews continue below

L'Anarchiste by Caron

I am usually attracted to - and fascinated by - controversial scents so naturally I became quite curious about Caron's L'Anarchiste after having read all the buzz about it online. I also intended to buy it blind - not that I had a choice, as Caron products are practically non-existent in Hungary, not even in better-equipped perfumeries have they heard about the brand. Today, my girlfriend completely surprised me with a 100 ml bottle straight from Amazon, and I decided to review it as critically as possible, and try to go mythbuster on the buzzwords "smells like blood", "vampire juice", "gunmetal" and "unwearable".

First of all: the packaging and presentation are striking. I pulled the box out from a Burger King paper bag in our kitchen (it was shoved in next to a couple of burgers as part of the surprise), and I literally stopped mid-movement when I looked at how elegant and well-executed the stuff looks like. The paper, the type-setting, the embossed Artaud quotation in the inner sleeve, not to mention the bottle itself - even more expensive perfumes have never given me that impression. I literally felt like I was coming out of an expensive luxury boutique with the box in my hand. Two thumbs up!

About the scent - I agree that a lot of the reviewers overdo the myth a bit. The first whiff initially struck me as aggressive, in-your-face and crispy, but nothing unbearable. It reminded me a bit of old-school Italian after shaves I used to smell as a kid, a little bit like Malizia or Pino Silvestre. Citrusy, fresh, a little off-beat, but at the heart really unique. The green, crispy notes started to subside almost immediately, and after five minutes or so, the stuff started to work, leaving the orange (which indeed does smell like apple a bit) - and the menthol. Something about the menthol note: maybe I am unaccustomed to it in perfumes (I only use Le Male that has any in it), but for me this thing RADIATES it. Especially on clothes - it's been hours, and the menthol note simply does not leave, even though I'm at the base notes now!

After the top notes have gone, it's interesting to see how the scent gets warmer and warmer, and also more spicy - though the cinnamon note is really subtle and well-blended, so it's not as in-your-face as I thought it would be. I think that's the contrast between the hot and icy notes that most reviewers describe as "disturbing", and although there certainly is a metallic tinge, it reminds me of cold aluminium or iron instead of "blood", "gunmetal" or "rust". It's also almost imperceptible, along with the distinct but well-blended "wood smoke" characteristic - if you look for it, it's pretty much there, but it doesn't stand out at all. It's also too weird and still not sweet enough to be called gourmand. I definitely don't percept it as "apple pie filling", let alone anything edible. This is also the darkest, most "predatory" phase of the juice.

Base notes are slightly musky and have a good measure of cinnamon - and still the menthol - it has a cool, fresh, slightly metallic quality, verging on floral a bit, I can't help thinking about black tea leaves. It's also a bit powdery and definitely dry, but maybe the powder's just my imagination.

I have yet to test it tomorrow for longevity as my nose is getting overwhelmed with the scent, but my girlfriend keeps on telling me how all our three rooms plus the kitchen smells of me wearing this (with all windows open), so the sillage must be insane. I keep losing tracks of scents after a couple of hours when testing, but here I can still distinctly feel it everywhere, I think it's somewhere on the level of Le Male's strength.

What's true about L'Anarchiste is that it's truly a one-of-a-kind scent, there's nothing around that resembles it. I still think that it's not the most rebellious one - though certainly bold - and anyone with a little out-of-line attitude can pull it off with little difficulty (okay, maybe it's just me, so test it first if you can). It's certainly classy, playful and a little-bit two-faced - an excellent brew!

(I'm going to update in the next few days after I'm through with street testing :))
26th July, 2011