Fragrance Reviews by randumbsmellyguy

Bought it blind and couldn't be happier.

Full-strength 80s fougere in all its big, bold, masculine glory - pass the lavender and don't forget the moss, plus a little soapiness to add a sense of cleanliness to its impressive depth. A solid dose of leather and spices are also included, giving this some personality and dimension to hang with the other big boys from this era. There are still echoes of Azzaro, Tuscany, Drakkar Noir, etc. in here, but Smalto's no mere copycat - it only draws inspiration from the aforementioned before making its own magic, arguably besting some of these classics in the process. I'll never stop using Azzaro Pour Homme and Tuscany (Drakkar's a little overdone in my book), but this one could push its way to the front of the line easily.

With classics like this around, it's almost enough to make you think, "Who needs new releases?" Almost. There are plenty of juices du jour I wouldn't swear off but when I'm fed up with the smell of the status quo, it's nice to know I've got bottles like Smalto Pour Homme to go home to.

...And of course it's discontinued. Not always shorthand for quality, but definitely true in this case.

Well, I should be grateful I had the opportunity and sniff and wear this wonderful stuff. Spicy, mossy, leafy (the autumnal analogies are dead-on), rooty and yes, even a bit of dirt and rot clinging to the edges. Nonetheless smooth and make-no-mistake masculine to boot. All the more melancholy to my nose now that it's no longer with us.

Glad I got to finally know this one, however late I was to the party. I fully intend to make this little bottle last.

As with most things Guerlain it's not cheap, but I feel it's well worth it.

Like Eau D'Orange Verte and other eaux I own, this is for when I want something feather-light that doesn't skimp on quality. Particularly good for days where I may want to wear something later on.

It's not likely to turn anyone's world upside down, but for those who want to experience a classic eau de cologne this is one of the better places to start.

Whenever I’m stuck in the paradoxical position of wanting to take a fragrance break but not wanting to venture out into the world unscented, this is one on that short list that I consistently reach for.

Clean as clean can get, fresh as fresh can be and as such for me, utterly sexless in spite of what I’ve heard others claim. But its inability to jostle the hormones, much less crudely grab you below the belt, doesn’t relegate this one to fragrance history’s dustbin (which in an ideal world would smell like the fascistically linear musky mishmash of every fragrance counter you’ve ever walked past).

Teetering precariously on the edge of sterility, Gendarme is masterfully balanced and possessed of a poise and grace rarely seen among fragrances anymore that dare to call attention to their own inoffensiveness.

There are many more complex scents out there, however for what it is - a radiant simplicity, an endearing naïveté that anyone can and should cloak themselves in at least once - it is among the best of its kind.

The first "women's" fragrance I've worn out of the house (Shalimar's probably next, not coincidentally also an older Guerlain) and without the slightest twinge of self-consciousness.

This juice can hang out with the guys and kick everyone's ass at pool, poker, insert stereotypically masculine pursuit of your choice here. And still remain to its core a sensitive and pensive soul. For those who've navigated a third path in life, effectively and intelligently splitting the difference between sensitive and scrappy.

Oh, and it's powerful, not to mention ineffably classy in a fascinatingly abstract and most un-obvious way...a mystery that never betrays a hint - but a goal well worth working toward.

As of this writing, my favorite aquatic.
And not coincidentally, the only one I've found so far that does not pretend ocean water smells like laundry-chemical fresh. Kenzo PH manages to smell great and be very compelling without shying away from a little salty, iodine-laden seaside funk dumped out of a beach pail (dynamicddanny was absolutely right about this plastic-y vibe), overall a very interesting and surprisingly wearable juxtaposition of the synthetic and the natural that casts a very large shadow even now. This even has real oakmoss - [i]Evernia prunastri[/i] - according to the ingredients, along with some jasmine flowers, conifers and herbs. Revealing pieces of itself it remains as mysterious as Mitsouko throughout, and I would suggest that maybe - just maybe - this did for aquatics what Mitsouko did for chypres.

A rare and wonderful scent that approaches the summit of "fresh and clean" from an unabashedly funkier side of the fragrance mountain. As such, definitely not a blind buy but well worth it for established aquatic lovers looking for something different and older that's better but still undeniably an aquatic.

I've been checking out the fresher side of men's fragrances of late. It could be the not-so-stiff competition, it could be personal skin chemistry...hell, I admit it could be my nose, which is far less refined than I had imagined. Among the fresh/clean crop, this is decidedly good. Still not quite great mind you, but with enough substance to set it subtly apart from the pack it seems to run with.

My only real complaint is the laundry detergent/fabric softener note that usually turns me off to many in this bunch is still present, though it's mercifully dialed way down and fades even further over the drydown, where it sweetens ever so slightly as an almost potpourri-like blend of woods, spices and dried fruit develops, with a translucent haze of floral notes, ozone and laundromat notes.

And make no mistake, it's floral alright. I would brand it unisex only on reflection, though my first impulse would be to market it to women.

I hesitate to call it a masterpiece, but among its kind it is well done, possessing an innocence and utter lack of sex appeal about it that renders it oddly endearing from a route less taken in the olfactory labyrinth.

Plus (confession time) my Dad wears it from time to time. Mostly emotional but tempered by pragmatism, as of now make this a 6.5/10.

Lively citrus (I want to say grapefruit...that's 2 bonus points for being unusual and actually working), dry, powdery potpourri-like flowers and a bitter herbal-ish tinge (I'll wager a guess and say that's the quinine) are what you get with this "hair tonic," just as Pinaud's Eau de Portugal is billed.

And just like EdP, don't let that stop you from treating it like a cologne. Like all true colognes, don't expect much less demand that it lasts and you'll not be disappointed. For what it's worth it's good on my easily-tangled hair, but possibly better on my skin.

If frags like Halston Z-14 and Kouros are "old man" or "out of fashion" today - both of which I wear proudly - then this is super-duper old-school in its approach. Recommended for fans of Floris No. 89 who don't want to burn through a bottle too quickly, or for those anxious to try the Floris but need a stepping stone. No, they are NOT the same but considering both were accoutrements of fin-de-siecle gents and that both make liberal use of dandyish, slighty musty floral notes I say the same spirit of bespoke decadence is very similar.

I hope the Trumper and Crown Perfumery creations of EdQ are better than this (they ought to be for the price), but even with Pinaud's generally excellent bang-for-buck aside this is worthy in its own right - plastic bottle (sigh) and all.

Nothing good lasts forever (as so pithily noted in my Eau D'Orange Verte review...sarcasm doesn't always translate here), nor does anything bad, lest people think I'm rooting for the dark side.

Or even the merely mediocre. It's on the high side at 6.5 out of 10, but not enough to push it into a thumbs up.

This one wears oddly for me and it does wears for a while. Not forever, but close - heavy on the powder with some sweetish flowery shadings under a musky veil, as Starscreeem said it is different for a man's frag.

Even a spray from further away seems to generate the same monstrous sillage. I'm not gagging but it may be a hair too tenacious for me with this type of musk, although the full-tilt metallic musk/powder/floral combo of Acier Aluminium is just as strong and works infinitely better overall.

Hmmm...

I will wear on occasion - colder months only - but I think the original RC was (is?) a better fit for me.

Spray.

Feel happy.

Time how fast it fades.

Feel sad.

Remember you have more.

Repeat all day.

Feel the tug-of-war between happiness and sadness while quietly wondering how an unassuming fragrance has ensnared you in such a profound dichotomy.

Understand that nothing good lasts forever.

Find reluctant comfort in that.

The powder of the original Clubman plus the sweet vanilla of this aftershave should equal an olfactory ordeal akin to being punched in the nose until bloody while your teeth rot right of your skull.

But that doesn't happen at all. It's just the opposite. In fact, I like this just as much as the original.

An oriental-ish, psuedo-gourmand companion to the original Clubman's classed-up-but-unfussy fougere, Classic Vanilla has similarly persistent power but with a scent structure that deviates even less. Linear can be a good thing, and this is a prime example of how it should be done. Also a bit more season-dependent that the original - much too warm for summer, but ideal for cool-to-cold days and even the office during the winter.

Vanilla is almost too easily a feminine note, but that's not automatically bad - sometimes it's just what's needed to offset a miasma of masculine notes. Here there isn't a whole lot to check it beyond a faint whiff of woods festooned with a sprinkle of spice, but all that might lead some to not try it. As with the original Clubman and indeed many other fine scents: A structural description alone fails to capture the whole experience.

It's undisputably sweet, but not a cloying, saccharine caricature of vanilla people may be imagining. Trust me.

And again reflecting the original Clubman, similar application rules remain in order - the initially perceived minimum, minus a drop or two. In an office environment, dial it back to a microdose.

So cheap in price and solid in stature you'd be remiss not to slap a little on at least once. Pinaud maintains its reputation as one of the kings of the value-scent proprietors.

A lot like Halston Z-14 with less nuance and far less stability. A moody, musty and moderately deranged concoction of spices and leather lightly seasoned with green notes.

Hard to say what you'll get with this - it's a Special Reserve indeed and seems to morph by the minute, but in a barely-controlled manner without much in the way of rhyme or reason. That edge-of-your-seat thrill of testing the limits of yourself and those around you in and of itself can occasionally make it worth the trip.

But I emphasize "occasionally" - save the testing period for a day off from work. I can't picture this as an everyday scent, and most definitely not during warmer weather.

Can be unique, old-fashioned, restrained, charming and intellectual like an aging philosopher in a cafe some days. On others it's just as prone to be trashy, belligerent and dumb.
Another graduate of the "Slap On Sparingly" school of Pinauds, it helps to keep the use limited to only what's necessary. Not as likely to go wrong and then right again, but you're still rolling the dice. Beware.

There may be someone out there who could wear this everyday and only have it smell pleasant, but that someone is not me. On balance, I love how dry this is - although it only makes the leather (and by extension the whole scent) seem more cracked.

Makes the cut for "neutral" for me as it's so bizarre and one-of-a-kind I can't help hanging onto it, but with the knowledge that its use is rather limited - in its defense, Special Reserve doesn't try to hide that. It seems to plead insanity from the first.

For madmen or the very brave only.

Man if only every barbershop used this. Hell, even stylists and beauticians should keep this around for their male clientele.

As long as they know the dose. With this it makes not a world but a dimension of difference.

Clubman requires a very steady hand - a drop more for me is always way too much. The upside of that is the longevity is so good it approaches (but never actually becomes) annoying from the other way around. Like with most scents of this type, the citrus fades somewhat quick but traces of it are still evident hours later, while the mix of herbs and powder continues to work its strange magic.

"Herbs and powder with a hint of citrus" is my honest impression that may scare some away, but is much better than it sounds. And I normally hate anything powdery, particularly when it vies for the title of The Scent That Wouldn't Die. That title's still held by Joop! PH for me, but of the super-sillage frags this one mightily steps into the ring and holds its own. The lasting force of this aftershave (!) seriously shames most frags calling themselves EDTs or EDPs.

Even for hopeless scent addicts like me expecting a quality fix to cost insane sums of money, it bears repeating: Pinaud truly has some of the best deals going.

Drop a few bucks and give it a chance, but I can't stress this enough: ALWAYS remember to use a little less that you think you need.

Soapy scents and me aren't always the best of friends, and the likelihood of a mismatch tends to climb when the thermometer does likewise, even with scents that I wear well in other seasons.

But - surprise, surprise - this passes the test, perhaps because it's not so soapy as it could have been. A rare case in which the feather-light, EDC nature of it actually helps it maintain its integrity. Generally short-lasting though it may be, the wispy, soft-focus finish from drydown to fadeout is among the best of its type.

Undoubtedly one of the great value scents - hardly cheap-smelling, full of panache and gentlemanly aplomb, and the added benefit of being not so common for me compensates for any longevity issues.

AdS's natural briskness running the gamut from breezy citrus to ephemeral herbs and greens - not forgetting a slight camphorous quality that reminds one of mentholated cough drops (in a good way!) when combined with the zesty citrus notes. But the bulk of its transitory lifespan is provided by a gnarly pine note and a rustic moss base. All things considered, a well-designed compromise between old-school power-scent longevity and newer-school warm-weather-ready refreshment, as well as a good break to the normally synthetic, clinical nature of many summer scents (not a universal slam, some are quite good as I'm finding out).

But in the end, it is a compromise. The coniferous tree-hugger in me often wishes it lasted a little longer, but as long as you spray a little more than normal and remember to treat it as a different species with its own evolved characteristics - related to but inherently different from Epicea, Wellington, Pino Silvestre, Green Jeans and the like - you'll enjoy it for all its momentous mystique.

Works wonders on my T-shirts during the summer and doesn't seem to stain. Attempt that trick at your own risk.

A new nighttime/formal staple for men, but this one's so good I'm tempted to start using it as a casual curveball and during the day - a rainy, cold, steel-gray day would be perfect.

Gucci PH is an unmitigated triumph. I was shocked that it was such a recent release, though it's original enough in its composition with the requisite creative touches to SUGGEST manly scents of decades gone by.

I made a point in my Azzaro PH review that there isn't anything really new, but now the subconscious becomes obvious - "new" is a very relative measure indeed. The meditative frankincense, the bracing strength of the cedar, the verdant earthiness of the vetiver, the gourmand-inspired top notes of pepper and ginger (coupled with a clovey, bay rum-ish spice that I'm assuming comes from the "pink bay"), the sweetish amber and leather farewell (made more subtle for modern times) all invoke past successes and hint at combos we might have smelled before. And yet...

Through the power of deja-vu and brilliant "nosing," this frag gets synergistic without delay. Even if it was a carbon copy (which it isn't to me at all) it would seem all the more original now that freshness holds sway.

Thank you Tom Ford, whereever you are.

The mix of spiciness and booziness is a great idea and has the best of intentions, but the execution is a bit sloppy. But when a sickly, overripened-fruit-like sweetness that on its own would be overbearing joins the party, it all goes to hell for me.

Whatever spark that may have been...well, I guess I just can't sniff that fast.

Might work as a home frag, but if genteel poise and heady, liquor-scented seduction are what you seek in a personal scent, get a bottle of Lauder's underrated JHL and leave this one be.

It's often bemoaned that there is nothing really new, that every creation has its antecedent(s) direct and/or otherwise, and that we must feverishly search the past like attention-deficit-plagued, meta-scavenger hunters to find modes of expression that would be deemed unique by our cultural contemporaries and help us to stand apart - be it for sex, money or just plain power.

I readily admit there's more than a little of me in that description, but there's no doubt that wearing Azzaro PH today makes a bold statement, likely much bolder than it may have upon its release nearly 30 years ago.

In a nutshell, it smells good and strong the whole way through without stumbling for even a fraction of a second, so secure in itself that it can incorporate near-nostril-burning freshness (damn I love that aniseed!) in the topnotes and even indulge a slight sweet side in the basenotes - while coming off as nothing less than polished and masculine.

Does recall Tuscany minus its citric impact, with a little added sweetness and freshness. Both are unquestionably great, but Azzaro PH DID come first. For inspiring that milestone alone, it's worth our respect.

If you like close-to-the-skin scents, this one ain't for you. And even if you do, what the hell - challenge your perceptions and get a bottle anyway. Even if it doesn't work for you, at least you'll have a great "reference scent" for comparison purposes. There's more than enough complexity in here to surprise anyone who thinks they've smelled it all before, and to keep the ones who actually have coming back for more.

Want spicy? Want it right away? Don't mind if the whole ride seems just a shade faster than you bargained for?

Here's your one-way ticket, and it's a sure bet you'll be the only one onboard for miles.

Imbued with an air of impunity suffused with profundity, this comes in with a bang and leaves with a warm, confident hush - don't call it a whimper.

Even if it's patently obvious you don't push the boundaries, rock the boat or subscribe to the "live fast, die young" mythology, this frag'll put a glide in your stride that suggests an almost unnatural insouciance, a specific brand of carefree with that extra edge that most fresh scents - try though they might - just can't provide.

When you're wearing Jacomo de Jacomo, you tend to let the others do the worrying.

As I continue on my olfactory journey, I've had to re-evaluate opinions and assumptions time and again.

Lanvin's Oxygene Homme is a fragrance that could be described as fresh, clean, synthetic, airy, atmospheric, aquatic, safe, neutured...you get the idea.

And yet, I really like this stuff. Though its initial impression is hardly mind-blowing, it's really growing on me. Why?

The juniper and coriander sit in the scent very noticeably but demurely - they let you know they're there without screaming (though if they did, given my scent predilections that'd be just fine). The more abstract, synthetic notes that suggest sky and sea more than they swirl around it like a steady but gentle confluence of air and ocean currents.

The white musk base is expected with this type of scent, but it more than does its job of propping up the whole thing. Seriously, this stuff will hang around, but the sillage never sledgehammers its point home - it always speaks in a measured tone of quiet confidence.

It may be modern and fresh and clean and all that, but it wears so well for me that I can't help but think I've been too hard on the fresh/clean/synthetic thing in general. Coniferous/herbal accords always draw me in like tractor beams, and this has enough of each (a light dose to be sure, as the overall impression is accordingly light) to get my attention. Soon, I'm appreciating the entire scent up and down. Granted, there's not much happening here and the scent is unerringly linear (at least for me), but simplicity's sometimes just the thing, especially come summertime.

An animated and durable mix of an astounding number of shades of green, the appropriately-named Green Jeans may have been destined for discontinuation. Seems the greats always are.

Like a forest full of pines with an isolated herb garden and the odd citrus tree growing in the middle of it, it's a fascinating scent that reveals itself slowly and with numerous peripheral pleasures.

Sandalwood in the base fleshes it all out and adds its measured smatterings of sweet and smoke, but GJ is otherwise dry as can be - maybe the driest of any pine I've smelled. Amazing.

All-around great and making its way up the hierarchy for one of my favorite coniferous fragrances. Why do they always kill off the good ones?

Listed here as a women's frag, there isn't too much preventing this from being unisex in my book.

Reminiscent of Guerlain's Aqua Allegoria Winter Delice in its potentially uneasy melange of conifers and confection, Fraser Fir (no "I" in Fraser on the label) has a mild, mellow sweetness in the base, but the anticipation of the beyond-fresh balsamic blast is the main draw. And I must say it's pretty damn good though a short trip - apparently like most Demeters, and perhaps a good thing as the sweetness might seem that much sweeter with a stronger concentration. Price is another plus, and as I'm discovering with some other scents this could work as a home frag or on clothes if one didn't care for it on skin - no need to throw or trade away right away.

Christmasy and ideal for this time of year, though with the caveat that this could devolve into a chemical, Car-Freshner-style frag on the some skin. If you're into that sort of thing more power to you, it's just not my style.

Definitely try this before you buy.

A cologne of historic interest, quality that has passed the test of time and alleged possessor of occult properties, FW's gossamers of citrus, piquant spices with a bright, auspicious array of floral notes create an assuredly alluring amalgam.

But allure or not, this is as volatile as any traditional cologne. The drydown exorcises the citrus almost immediately leaving an insinuation of low-key spice and distant flowers, as though one had been gardening but managed to not get the least bit dirty. There's little sweetness here even with the floral presence, which is the next-volatile note besides the citrus and has a semiconscious quality to it, like a vase full of vivid, fresh-picked and dead, dried-out potpourri-like flowers bundled together - a creative hybrid of aromas even today.

Brilliant in its own beyond-old-school, near-centennarian way, and can be applied throughout the day as liberally as one would want to with nearly no likelihood of offending, depending on how you handle the finishing touches. Doesn't cost much to find out either, so why not?

I agree that this could be much better if it was as dry as it bills itself - not nearly so "sec" as it would have you believe. Not so "sec" indeed.

In the interest of being even-handed to a perhaps unncessary degree, the sweetness helps it last a bit longer than the average citrus, but at a cost for those of you who don't have a sweet tooth (nostril?) where citrus is concerned.

The custom of conservative application that must be observed with some Pinauds seems counterproductive here, as it would with almost any overwhelmingly citrus frag - the instinct is 9 times out of 10 to liberally slather it on, but the saccharine ("hard candy" described it perfect) base makes that a questionable prospect.

Maybe if mixed with something drier like Florida Water or used on sheets/linens/surfaces other than skin, but the fulcrum point between revitalizing citrus and tacky, cavity-inducing sweetness is too narrow to make this worth even the occasional gamble for me.

The one time I actually wanted a scent to turn sour that it didn't. Does wash off pretty easy thankfully.

Not a cologne per se nor an aftershave though it could more than ably substitute for either. This is actually labeled as a hair tonic, and it's the one of choice for me.

Those of you who have nightmares about putting anything even remotely greasy in your hair no matter how good it smells can relax. This is NOT hair tonic in the Elvis-grade pompadour-lube/Gordon Gekko super-slickback sense. This is a lightweight conditioner that just so happens to smell great in a non-intrusive way unlike a lot of hair stuff, and like all Pinauds the price is extra easy on your wallet.

The conditioning comes courtesy of the glycerin and citrus oils that provide a refreshing though fleeting sillage - the standard issue with citrus-scented stuff. Nothing fancy here, it just does its thing without clashing with any other fragrance you might use. Even after your hair starts to dry EdP's citrus is even drier and far from cloying. It is to fragrance what wearing black or white is to getting dressed - it'll pretty much go with whatever you choose to throw at it and maybe even make it more interesting.

The fact that it's so lightweight in both scent and as a hair product makes it ideal for me. The label says it's a "special formula for light hair," though I suspect what they really mean is "fine hair," which I have. Lacks the holding properties of a more oily tonic, but since I let my locks hang loose anyway that's no problem.

As it's all citrus it's as unisex as can be, usable by anyone seeking an everyday non-greasy hair conditioner that doesn't weigh your hair down. And of course, the scent is awesome though expectedly short-lived.

Definitely a product of the old school of men's perfumery, this unmistakably masculine frag packs a dry, forest-green punch with surprising longevity for an EDC, though it remains close to the skin and sweetens ever so slightly during drydown, avoiding the powdery mess that Quorum sometimes becomes.

Each sniff captures enough complexity to keep you sniffing even more - a dense, crackling, thatch-like bed of spices, woods, moss and herbs winding and creeping around a leather/musk/amber foundation that's ideal on cold or rainy days.

Many may not follow it anymore, but for those it continues to lead it remains respected for its intelligence and character. It's so out of fashion in this day and age of fascistic freshness in that it dares to carve out its own territory and define "cool" on its own terms - minus even a trace of irony. No jokes here, it's all very serious and assured.

Rough around the edges, but intriguingly so. Starting this fall/winter, I have a new fascination.

Possessing a forlorn, ephemeral beauty that projects its soul beyond the realm of corporeal fragrances, this is indeed otherworldly, ghostly and (as many have said but is no less true) gothic.

While not so strange as to be unaccessible but strange enough to send the olfactory centers tripping over themselves in a futile effort to capture its essence in mere words, Ungaro III's potency lies in its singular status, a solitary pillar in perfumery slithering skyward from the landscape that dares all who pass to not fall prey to its spell.

Effortlessly intriguing the way it convolutes and contorts the nose with an array of notes that push and pull, multiply then divide. The notes are all assured on their own but achieve a paranormal power in concert. Rose, cinnamon, tobacco, sandalwood, leather are but a few of the essences that levitate above an abyss of indefinable depth and solitude, paradoxically echoing its message in a place where time seems to stand still.

Funereal, seductive, lonely, untouchable, sad but with hope extending past our finite dimension, so many nuances of meaning and mood co-exist within its boundaries that one fears it wasn't made to survive in our world. Long may it lurk among us.

An ideal summer fragrance, can't wait to try it in the winter too.

As others have said, particularly great on really hot, humid days. The citrus fades fast (not exactly news), but the vetiver/tobacco/cedar accord soldiers on and on and onward still in fine fashion.

A very natural smell with great sillage whose greatest asset apart from its actual smell is its aggression - the vetiver possesses a real edge particularly within the first hour or so in combo w/the citrus. Sharper than a sushi chef's knife, this stuff can cut through a fog of synthetic freshness unlike anything I've yet tried. Synthetic freshness has its place as well, but with this in the same room on the right person there is no competition:-)

Never had the pleasure of trying the original, but somehow I'm not too depressed as there are so many other vetivers I hope to try soon. Starting with such a classic may have boosted my expectations a bit though - rest assured I will find out.

A new essential edition to my wardrobe. May it remain in production for all time.

A near-combination of Joop! PH and D&G PH that avoids being a head-on collision, OP for Men takes the former's just-shy-of-cloying sweetness but tones down the sugary florals a notch while bringing up the tobacco and spice, all of which actually puts it closer to the latter in structure, if not quite in substance.

While it's missing D&G's more-prominent citrus top (as well as some of its balance and subtlety), it's close enough to it to steal some of their thunder. But for a scenthead who by and large favors invention over imitation (even convincing and loving tributes), it's a mild disappointment.

The one thing to differentiate this was a candy-ish, almost licorice-like note from time to time that probably resulted from the tobacco intertwining with some spice. the fact that the fragrance "morphs" a bit adds interest, but not quite enough to set it apart from the competition.

All in all, OP for Men is certainly enjoyable in a familiar way, but not quite inspired or adventurous enough to stake out a bigger piece of its own territory.

In a few words: Just this side of respectable, but very boring.

At first sniff, it's a distant echo of Adidas Moves - without the synthetic, athletic hyper-freshness that makes that one a winner for me when it's undersprayed. All it is is a pleasant enough but throughly unremarkable smell with an ultra-casual feel. Also reminds me of some of the Gillette after-shave balms without the cooling effect or the complexity. Yeah, I know - I was surprised too.

To be fair, my bottle had some dust on it in a slightly overlit pharmacy when I bought it, so it had likely seen better days many days (if not years) ago. But the forest notes I was looking forward to are almost unnoticeable well after drydown on my skin, even on paper.

Maybe I'll give Preferred Stock or one of the other cheap-but-allegedly-good frags a whirl next time I'm at the pharmacy, but I never had Aspen again I think I'd be just fine.

One of the few spicy, heady scents that really works for me whether it's hot as hell or glacially cold, bay rum's always been a favorite of mine. And so far, this is my favorite version of it.

Not having tried any of the more of expensive ones like Royall or St. Johns (though the Dominica is definitely on my list of must-tries), I have few reference points for what constitutes a good bay rum. But even with such esteemed competition, I have to wonder if there's any point in 5 or 6 times more. Pinaud's rendition has a warm tide of cinnamon ebbing amidst the boundless waves of clove and bay leaf oil. It has more than enough strength with a medium dose to last all day, even after I break a slight sweat. And even with a slight overapplication, it remains subtle in its sweetness and never becomes cloying.

All in all, this one's a real surprise for spice/woods fans that may even have you passing up frags costing up to 20 times more! If you don't like it, you're probably not out by more than 10 bucks. Basenoters take note: Bang for buck very rarely gets better than this.

True, it's not as dazzlingly original or complex as much of what's around. Yes, it may be a bit too common for a signature scent (at least among those who would go to somewhat ridiculous lengths to find the perfect one...like most of us here at Basenotes, and I'm no exception).

But as far as fragrances go, this one has indeed gone far - hell, it's gone the distance and then some. I may not wear it all the time, but in an odd way it's comforting to know this one's still reveling in its old-school, offhanded, virile charm without ever becoming a parody of itself.

There's something to be said for leaving a good thing to just do its thing.

Another "fresh" or "clean" EDT for men? But wait...exhale on this one just before you inhale, and some more interesting fougere notes come to the fore.

The waves of green wash through the slight citrus top notes and give this something much better than ADG and its spawn, but not exactly a mind-blower either. Its relative sweetness could be cloying to some, but the herbal/fern-like parts of it help to keep it in check on me.

Basically, a good spring/summer scent that may get some added attention from women, but probably only if they noticed you before smelling you.

A classic case of many apparent contradictions that actually balance each other out perfectly.

Bright yet warm, flowery yet masculine, leathery yet subtle - take your pick as to which one is the most intriguing. Or better yet, buy a bottle and come up with your own.

History and attention to detail have served the original Dunhill very well. I'm crossing my fingers that they don't scrap this one.

Wow! Vetiver, leather and a hint of musk/vanilla/amber sweetness all underscore the heavy sandalwood, but it's prominent in a matter-of-fact, confident way (not obnoxious at all, unless you hate sandalwood).

To add to what someone else said, it's rough, tough and animalistic but very classy at the same time - think James Bond. If you're a sandalwood fan, definitely a must-sample.

Along with Tuscany, a default fall/winter scent that's always a pleasure to wear. The Christmas imagery is right on target - the cloves and citrus suggest sipping hot cider by the tree on a cold evening with a roaring fire going.

A warm, cozy, affordable casual scent that exudes class, character, romance and peace of mind. The sort of fragrance I want to wear when a woman leans on my shoulder as we stare at the moon on a clear, cold winter night and she whispers how she doesn't want the night to end.

Old-school in the best possible way. Floral, warm, natural and spicy all in equal measure, widely available but made with a nose for quality, long-lasting but not overpowering, always noticeable and interesting.

Definitely different than a lot of what's around now, and that's a very good thing.

Also, the manufacturer knows how to create a product line around a scent - too bad I can't say the same for some of my other favorites.

Another one I can't go wrong with, although I prefer this one in the colder months.

A fail-safe fall/winter scent that always smells good. Ideal match with my skin, somewhat linear albeit interesting drydown, all class.

In my book, a classic that's beyond reproach. Every man owes it to himself to at least sample this one.

A solid pine scent that's not as chemical or medicinal on me as on others, but ONLY if it's taken one spray at a time. If I overdo it the lower notes can overwhelm the dry, spicy pine and make it seem cloying, at least on my skin.

Compared to Epicea it leaves much to be desired, although both seem short-acting on me. In moderation it's refreshing and uncommon, at least among my age group.

The best pine scent I've encountered. As much as I enjoy Pino Silvestre (only one spray at a time though), this is much classier and quite a bit drier - no musk or amber as far as I can tell.

Bookended by very light citrus notes in the intro and an understated spice coming more into play on the drydown, this is fresh in a way most scentheads today seem to have forgotten about (if they knew at all). Awesome stuff.

I can see why some people may not appreciate it so much, but I'll always dig the way this combines attitude and class, albeit in a rather dated way. Classic without being costly, not to mention assertive without being boorish.

Word to the wise: one spray goes a long way.

A clean, light, refreshing lavender scent that still retains a masculine edge.

I only wish it lasted a bit longer and had better sillage, but the quality/price ratio is tough to beat - a winner anyway you slice it.

This takes me back about 10 years, when aquatic frags were becoming all the rage. With the media blitz surrounding Acqua Di Gio and the like, it wasn't exactly a fair fight. Sure, ADG had its moments but even as a newbie (this was one of my first smells), I recognized the substantial difference in quality.

Horizon had a slow fade to silence, one that evolved and even digressed occasionally, encompassing different olfactory textures along the way. It was a more adventurous, decisive, mature and confident alternative to a lot of what was around - a imaginative blend of oceanic calm, muted sweetness, bracing spiciness, ending with a glacial, nuanced drydown.

Coupled with its relative rarity, it remained a favorite for years, and is still to this day.