Fragrance Reviews by robyogi

This is not one for the young-uns. The smell is something like an old leather chair pulled out of an exclusive club, soaked with years of cigar smoke, and freshened occasionally with some sort of leather polishing cleaner. It is a tad dated smelling, and yet somehow still works, especially if you are going to be smoking cigars. Really, it's one of Creed's best. Give it some time to grow on you though.

This scent has what I could only describe as a citrus-floral-leather-sandalwood harmony. At first they don't seem to harmonize, with the sharper notes fighting the warmer ones, but as the base comes into play, the fragrance mellows, and the whole composition just clicks. It then becomes a distinctive, sharp yet creamy fragrance. It continues to get warmer and sweeter as it dries. I'm not sure sandalwood purists will love this one, but as a good all-around scent this is yet another Trumpers that I am going to have to consider purchasing.

I can see how Marlen would find this similar to Or des Indes, but to my nose Oropuro is not as powdery or feminine as that. It is heavy, there is plenty of vanilla, and it is sweet, but it is also smooth with a spicy exotic touch and an animalic presence in the base. In some ways it reminds me a bit of a spicier Habit Rouge, without the citrus component, and with a bit more of an ambery drydown.

Lots of oakmoss opens this one. Perhaps that's the reason it smells "dated" or "old lady perfumey" to some. The way oakmoss opens always seems very perfumery to me. But wait for the drydown because this one doesn't stop there. Where it goes I can't really tell you...the blending is so perfect. I can tell you that it gets spicy, warm, and ambery in the drydown. I can also say that iris plays a strong role, especially in the middle, but to my nose it's nowhere near an overpowering role. In fact, I'd say it's one of the best uses of iris I've encountered. That note almost always stands out like a sore thumb to me, but here it blends in so well, adding a lush, velvety texture. The deep dry down is just warm, spicy, and ambery - radiating the color dark brown, as well as a classical sort of exoticism. VintageVogue is right on: Vol de Nuit does skirt the masculine. It's not manly, per se, but it's also not distinctly feminine. There is nothing here that would make it difficult for a man to wear. If you haven't already, you've got to try this one to know what makes a classic classic.

What a changeling. The topnotes are marked by a sharp greenness that is rivaled by none. Seriously, this is a crisp, green opening. As the scent moves into the middle notes, the floral quality emerges and softens the greenness, which is still very much a part of the scent. As it moves into the base, however, it becomes a warm, ambery, spicy scent with just a faint memory of the green herbs and floral notes that were so prominent throughout. Here one can smell the Guerlain family resemblance, especially the deep dry down of Vol de Nuit and Jicky - all related but none the same. Great stuff, and a good so-called "feminine" scent for men who want to explore the Guerlain classics to try out (I would also highly recommend Jicky and Vol de Nuit, amongst others). In fact, I have no idea why this would be considered feminine. It's so green and sharp that it seems to me to be as masculine as it is feminine.

Tuscany is a simple but full frag. To me I smell woods, lavender, citrus. The opening is crisp, bright, and sharp. There is something pure and masculine about this, and the name is indeed fitting. As others have remarked it is a linear scent. As it dries it softens, but it does not develop that much. Unfortunately, it does not last long - I get a few good hours out of it. If you're looking for a classically masculine scent, look no further.

Lots of good reviews of this one so far. The peach is most apparent in the opening. Then, it fades and gives way to some soft, approachable florals. As it dries down you're left with a vanilla-floral-fruit accord that is smoothly blended together into one tight, warm, lush scent. It's not as heavy or sweet as Jaipur Homme. Realistically, this is quite unisex, at least for the more daring among us.

I am very much in agreement with Foetidus here. A "light" version this may be, but light or insignificant it is not. It is strong, and it does have quite a bit of projection to it. It is lighter, or fresher, than the regular Jaipur Homme, at least it's not as syrupy sweet, with a crisper overall scent. Like the other Boucherons, it's well-blended to the point of being difficult for me to pinpoint individual notes. That said, it is crisper, woodier, perhaps a bit spicier, than regular Jaipur, and not as heavily vanillic. It is to my nose, easier to wear, and in fact, I like it better overall as a fragrance. This is a very well done "fresh" version.

(This review is for the Epicee version, the first of the Jaipur Fraicheurs, so far as I can tell. The Boisee version seems to have come later. Sorry, I cannot get the French accents correct!)

More a crisp, bright tea than a dark, smoky one. The tea is there throughout, and is the predominant note. In the topnotes there is a smell a bit like a cleaning product. In the middle, I too get something musty, sort of a similar note to that in Messe de Minuit that smells like old books. As the scent dries down, it becomes a soft yet crisp tea scent, sort of like a cup of Lipton tea with some lemon in it. Not dark, spicy, or smoky at all, and not all that complex. In the end, I am left shrugging my shoulders.

A smooth, dry green floral fragrance with a somewhat powdery (almost dusty) woodsy base. There may also be a touch of white musk in here, providing a slight "laundry detergent" or "cashmere" quality, but the predominant scent to me is green and floral. It is, for this sort of scent, very long lasting - almost all day. The fragrance I would compare it to is L'Artisan's L'Eau du Caporal, only without that fragrance's signature mint. Pretty good stuff and not dated at all considering its 1979 release date.

What a strange experience wearing this scent is. Truly it is more like a work of art than a fragrance for personal wear. In fact, I don't imagine many (myself included) would want to wear this as a fragrance. It starts off smelling like rich, damp, black earth with all the facets of that smell - you can almost see the small plant shoots and insects. Then, it takes a cold turn, for some reason calling more to mind damp, cold soil in the late fall or early winter, with dried, decaying tree leaves playing a role. Finally, it ends on an almost green note, the smell of the soil in the spring. Here the smell of freshly sprouting leaves comes to mind. At this point, it is light, but still present.

As someone who has worked with his hands, often digging and planting, this scent brought with it many embodied memories of times past. The smell of clearing the trees to build our house; the smell of planting azalea bushes as a landscaper; the smell of digging in the hard, cold earth near the end of fall. For that reason, wearing this is an emotional experience. I'm just not sure that many of these are emotions I care to relive. If the goal of this is to mimic the smell of nature at various points throughout the year, then this fragrance succeeds. However, if the goal is to provide something that folks will wear to smell good, or feel good, then I'm not sure it succeeds.

I really, really wanted to love this. You know the feeling when you read the notes, consider the concept, and just "know" you'll love it. But then there's skin chemistry and the ever unpredictable olfactory perception with which to contend.

The topnotes were great. And I can completely notice the concept unfolding. There is the somewhat sweet nutty smell, some vegetal components, a whiff of smoke, and an earthiness underlying it all. Then as it dries down, the sweetness, the nuttiness, the smokiness, and even the earthiness all give way to a murky, plant-like smell reminiscent of tomato plants, or maybe green bell pepper plants. And there it sits.

I am encouraged by the topnotes and have high hopes for the others in this line. I am seriously hoping this is a skin chemistry issue for me. Nonetheless, I am disappointed by the way this scent collapses in on itself every time I try it on my skin.

How is there a single thumbs-up of this on Basenotes?!? A very cheap smelling concoction. Starts off smelling a bit like fruit punch, then the coffee note emerges and the apple note separates itself from the generic fruit punch accord creating a hideous combination of coffee and apple. Your coffee never has an apple in it for a reason. Then there is the generic, crappy musky-woody base that smells like something you'd get in Axe or Tag or one of those other asinine "body spray" products. There are so many other better youthful, casual options available.

For me, as for "colormechris," Polo is the King. The scent of this is huge: deep and wide. The pine, tobacco, and oakmoss are most apparent to me, though the patchouli probably lends its leathery warmth and forcefulness to this mix as well. Just for fun I sprayed a little on my skin - just a little - and had my girlfriend smell it to see if she knew what it was. Despite being of the Polo generation, she could not tell me, and didn't even find it to be all that familiar (as a reference point, she immediately recognized Drakkar Noir).

I guess the point that I am making is that while some of us bathed in this stuff when we were younger, if you use it sparingly, you can smell just how amazing this is without all the baggage of yesteryear. It's in a league of ts own. It's more powerful and more rustic than Polo Crest, rivaling Devin or Tuscany in that regard; more overtly masculine with less sweetness than Safari; and not as "dated" as Drakkar, Kouros, Havana, and Trussardi, but just as important as all those, maybe even more so. This is my King.

Right from the start, this one has "wow!" written all over it. Something about the opening of this reminds me very clearly of Musc Ravageur. As it dries down, it's easy to pick up the SL Borneo reference that Luca Turin makes. The patchouli here, as in Borneo, is soft, dry, earthy, and approachable, while still smelling "real." The benzoin sweetness is also apparent, but clear and never heavy. In the middle stage, Coromandel reminds me a bit of Prada for women, but it's not nearly as heavy or syrupy as that. The Musc Ravageur allusion is still present as well, though less so than in the opening. The final stage is a lighter, wood and vanilla scent that somehow still manages to be interesting. For men, if you can pull off Musc Ravageur, Angel for Men, or Borneo, you can pull this off. Very much worth a test. I can't wait to try the rest of these. My only complaint is that they only offer these in 200 or 400 ml bottles! Who can use 200 ml of anything? Come on fragrance manufacturers...get real. Offer more fragrances in 30 and 15 ml sizes.

I am really surprised at the reviews this has gotten - the suggestions that Alamut is a middling fragrance, both on the boards here, and in the blogs. This is a wonderful fragrance. In the interest of full disclosure, I will admit that I am a Villoresi fan. Piper Nigrum was one of my first loves, one of the fragrances that ignited my interest. Trying to put my positive prejudice aside, I still think this is a great fragrance. It may be Villoresi's finest. You get a sense that he has grown as a perfumer. The notes seem to meld together better, and flow better as well. The progression is smoother throughout the drydown. The scent itself is a warm, smooth, suave blend of sweet spices and gender-neutral florals blended with a warm, sensual animalic base. It most reminds me of Costes, but where Costes is more woody, this is more oriental, and to my nose, more exotic. It is richer as well. I am in total agreement with Gerald - this is a great unisex scent for those who like exotic, lush oriental fragrances.

For some reason, Basenotes has both "Amber" and "Ambra" listed in the Directory as SMN fragrances. I think they are the same, with "Ambra" being the Italian word for "Amber."

Anyway, I think this fragrant is a bit misleadingly named. It's really got more birch tar than amber. It opens loud and harsh, as many SMN frags are wont to do; think herbal and bitter, and a little off-kilter, possibly "gothic" (though to be honest, I'm not sure what that means when it comes to fragrance). As it dries down, the amber comes into play, but it is light at that point, more a powdery, semi-sweet skin scent than the voluptuous amber I am used to smelling in other fragrances. My main complaint is that on me it doesn't last.

For some reason, Basenotes has both "Amber" and "Ambra" listed in the Directory as SMN fragrances. I think they are the same, with "Ambra" being the Italian word for "Amber."

Anyway, I think this fragrant is a bit misleadingly named. It's really got more birch tar than amber. It opens loud and harsh, as many SMN frags are wont to do; think herbal and bitter, and a little off-kilter, possibly "gothic" (though to be honest, I'm not sure what that means when it comes to fragrance). As it dries down, the amber comes into play, but it is light at that point, more a powdery, semi-sweet skin scent than the voluptuous amber I am used to smelling in other fragrances. My main complaint is that on me it doesn't last.

Very, very similar to the typical Montale accord of oud and rose. It smells a lot like a number of Montale fragrances; or at least it smells like the common denominator between them, sort of divided by two, or maybe the square root of that accord. In fact, Buffalo_Gals' review seems to me to be dead on. It's a lighter, more approachable Montale, with just a touch of something fruity and berry-like (sort of like you would find in La Labo's Rose scent or 10 Corso Como). The lightness and the berry note to my nose makes this more a "bright" scent than a "dark" one, but it seems that whenever rose appears in a fragrance, people automatically perceive it as dark. I wonder why. I like it better than many Montales, and it is nice, but I've really tired of these aoud/rose/berry fragrances.

Light, crisp, green, and tea. Pleasant enough, but too light and generic, in that inoffensive way that is all-too-common. A fresh take on tea; would be suitable for men or women.

I've taken my time getting to this one. Part of the reason for this is that it is one of those scents that seems to be so well-blended that the notes just meld into one overall accord. Here is it something like: "chicsleekcleansmoothwarmsweetincenseypurple." Another reason I have waited to review this is that until today I only spot tested it. This scent has to be worn full-on for the full day to be appreciated. I thought it was pretty average until I wore it as my SOTD.

From the start to the finish I smell little to no amber, which makes me wonder if the name is some sort of joke. It is sweet, but compared to many, many other modern "men's" fragrances like Hanae Mori, Pi, Opium PH, Samurai, Minotaure, Dolce & Gabbana, Lolita Lempicka, Dior Homme, Dreamer, Gaultier2, or the ironically named Le Male - really there are so many!! - it is hardly too sweet, or even unusually sweet. In fact, right from the start my first thought was "oh good, at least we're moving away from hyper-sweet fruity, floral orientals for men." In some way, I'd say it's sweet like Habit Rouge is sweet - classy, crisp, integrated sweetness. The sweetness, being integrated into the whole, does not, to my nose, become cloying. The clean and chic modernized barbershop quality also balances the sweetness well and, as rach2jlc mentions, does well match the clean, crisp, cool, "disengaged" lines of Prada's fashions.

Not being able to name notes here, I can say it is slick and incensey, I'd say myrrh is at work here, though it could be labdanum too. There is something fruity, almost bubble-gum-like in the mix, but it's subtle and integrated. To triangulate in on this one, just to give a sense of what it's like, I'd say it's like a sweeter, smoother, more chic Rive Gauche. Maybe a smoother, higher quality, better done Versace Man? It's hard to say what it smells like. And that in itself is a good thing. This one just might be bottle-worthy for me.

Wow. Perhaps the most "masculine" scent I have tried to date. Definitely the most "80s." If you're old enough - and American enough - to remember the show "Magnum P.I.," this is the scent that Magnum's friend Rick would have worn to the nightclub. It would also have been the scent of Larry from the show "Three's Company." I spray it on, and immediately I think of hairy men with big gold chains, the top three buttons on their shirts unbuttoned (and for some reason that also reminds me of Croatia). I also think of cigarettes and smoking, and wonder if that may be part of the reason these 70s and 80s frags are so loud and huge - they had to compete with the ubiquitous smoking of the day.

I was surprised at the way the vetiver in this leapt out at me. I was expecting something a little sweeter, and smoother. As Foetidus says, this isn't really smooth, and it's not really artistic or creative. It's just BIG. I know the notes list nutmeg, and other reviewers have commented on the nutmeg, but to me it smells a little more like coriander. Whatever it is, it is LOUD for the first 30 minutes or so. Maybe that has something to do with the vetiver and patchouli that are also obvious in the mix. So too is the sandalwood. Pretty much everything traditionally masculine seems to be tossed together into one BIG scent. It's loud, and yes, it does seem to wear the wearer, it does invade others' space just because it's there, it would not be good for the office, but it would be good, as Christof says, for a full day alone, at home. Or maybe when you want others to notice your fragrance BIG time or just want to invade their space because you can.

Way too ordinary for my tastes, too much of the typical "men's cologne" smell. That said, there is something in the mix that reminds me of photography - maybe film, or maybe the fluid you use to develop film (a smell familiar to me from high school shop class). Or maybe I am imagining that due to some sort of olfactory self-fulfilling prophecy (a sort of "it's in the name, so I must smell it" effect). Not bad. Just not anything that yells out "buy me."

Odd, and slightly off-putting, but not THAT dramatic, now is it? What I smell here is mainly indolic jasmine with very dry and smoky woods. It gets dryer as it dries down (sounds redundant, huh?). The amber here is most like the amber in Ambre Canelle - not as sweet as what I normally associate with amber. In fact, Ambre Canelle has some similarities to this - indoles, jasmine, amber, and eccentricity - only in Salvador Dali, I get a lot more woods - smoky woods.

I again find myself agreeing with Foetidus. This is one of a very small number of scents that I would apply with no fear of overapplication. If you happen to try it, and a normal application doesn't cut it, try doubling that. You may be surprised by the result.

On to the scent: despite it's demure nature, there is a lot going on here. The aldehydes, boozy note, and friendly spices are most apparent in the topnotes. As it dries down, I notice more of the incense, musk, and amber coming through. Very nice, smooth, and refined, if a bit quiet, and ever-so-slightly "dated." Overall, it reminds me of something that could be in L'Artisan's exotics line (with Timbuktu and Dzongha, for example). It also reminds me somewhat of Prada's new men's scent. My main complaint is longevity. It doesn't last well on me. Well worth a try, especially for the low prices it sells for.

The listed notes don't look at all the same, but I swear this smells very much like MPG's Centaure. Very much. It's like a powdery, fuzzy - and after the drydown - softer version of Centaure. Not as crisp, not as sharp, and the black currant note stands out in Centaure. I feel crazy for typing this but to my nose this is like a fall/winter version of Centaure. The overall effect is surprisingly similar. I'm surprised no one else has mentioned this.

And truthfully, I don't see much similarity to Balenciaga Pour Homme, except maybe a whopping spice note they share for a while. Balenciaga though focuses on the incense and honey, and has an amazing drydown. I just don't get that same focus or wonderful drydown here. On me, this is a bit short-lived and more linear.

I've taken my time to review this one. When folks whose opinions I respect have great respect for a fragrance, I have to give it a fair chance. I would urge others to do the same. Parfum d'Habit seems to be all about vetiver and patchouli mixing and mingling, creating an earthy, dirty, almost decaying plant material scent that certainly does create the "dark green wool" smell to which others have referred. The topnotes are almost foul, very nearly like a compost heap or some manure. Trust me, those wear off. After that there is something almost medicinal, not really like oud, brighter, and slightly astringent, like mint, but I'm thinking it's the sharp, medicinal side of sandalwood, which lifts the fragrance, balancing the earthiness of the patchouli and vetiver. Then, as the fragrance develops further, I detect an oily leather-like note that reminds me of the castoreum in Yatagan and Balenciaga Portos (but it's not listed among the notes on MPG's website). Overall, the effect brings to mind images of dark green things: being at camp, hunting camp, a sleeping bag, living close to nature, and possibly old military gear. Re-discovering this fragrance was well worth the effort.

As others have mentioned, the opoponax is a key player here. It starts off kind of sharp and strong and spicy, in that 80s "men's cologne" kind of way. But that lasts all of about 5 seconds and the fragrance becomes a very round, smooth, warm, powdery, and sweet scent of opoponax and amber. Masculine powderiness? A tough amber? A bargain-basement classic? A Lutens-like scent on a dime budget? Possibly yes to all.

I find it odd that this is marketed as "roses for men." To my nose it smells very similar to 10 Corso Como, a fragrance that I find to be leaning to the "feminine" side. Looking at the shared notes this should come as no surprise, I guess, but still, it does. The two share at least notes of: rose, musk, vetiver, and oud. The sandalwood and incense are stronger in Corso Como, while the woods are stronger in Rose 31. But the oud is a similar type in each of these, the rose is almost equally prominent in both, and there is something fruity and sweet in both of them. Really, they are remarkably similar. I'd say perhaps Corso Como's over-ripe plum note makes it a tad more "feminine" than Rose 31...but not by much. Ladies and gents, don't let that scare you away though. I'd consider both to be wholly androgynous. Both have an exotic but not heavy or oppressive scent. It's good, but in the end, this just wasn't as ground-breaking or unique as I had hoped.

The Le Labo folks are not kidding when they say that patchouli is not easy to detect in this fragrance. The birch tar takes center stage, to my nose. I'd call this dark, thick, smoky, leathery, animalic, and even a bit rubbery. It's closest parallels I would say are Lonestar Memories, Nostalgia, and Bulgari Black...probably in that order. It lasts well too. Unusual and interesting, if a bit weird, it brings to mind images of people wearing masks and whipping each other for enjoyment.

Definitely very similar to the smell of a clove cigarette (as we call them here in the US) fresh from the pack. Tobacco, with, obviously, clove; but it also smells like perhaps there are some other spices (cinnamon, cardamom?) to round it off and sweeten it a little. All that seems to be resting on an amberish base. Very friendly and approachable, smooth, sweet, tobacco, and spices. Longevity for me is not so great (as seems to be the case with many Ava Luxe fragrances), and it's very quiet after it dries down. For the price, try it out if you like tobacco.

I can't believe no one has reviewed this yet! I'm really pleasantly surprised by Café Noir. The coffee note in the top is very realistic and holds its own against Rochas Man and New Haarlem. Café Noir is less sweet than either of those, less creamy as well, with more of a woody quality. It is, to my nose, maybe the most complex of the Ava Luxe scents (and thankfully, I don't get any of the weird plastic-like smell I get from many artisinal fragrances). The wonderful, almost shimmering coffee topnote fades quickly and, as the scent dries, it is replaced by a smoother, rounder mocha-like scent, with vanilla and musky aroma. The musk here smells like ambrette, not quite as animalic as some musks, not the weird "laundry detergent" scent of some "white" musks. There's also a touch of cedar in there somewhere and maybe a lighter, sweeter spice like cardamom. I also smell a bit of smoke in the mix. The woods and spices give the scent some vibrancy and clarity, keeping it from being too flubby, keeping it somewhat crisp, while the vanilla and musks make it subtly sensual, and the coffee, comforting. Overall, very well done, and something of a surprise to me: I think I might like this better than either Rochas Man or New Haarlem. Nice work!

Another of the "Luxe Editions," Firewood is incredibly woody - again, lots of cedar, there's a smokey sweetness that might be birch tar, and a touch of incense adding depth. I like these Luxe Editions much more than the standard editions. They seem deeper, richer, more complex. They're not going to be considered classics of perfumery (but then again, how many new releases even from designers and niche companies will be?). For the price, they're worth checking out.

There's one thing, however, that I consistently don't like about these artisanal fragrances: there is something in the oil or alcohol they are dissolved in - it smells a little synthetic and plastic-y to me, but I can't put my finger on exactly what it is that is causing this smell. In Firewood, it's strongest in the top, and then fades considerably to be non-intrusive. Still, it taints the overall experience for me.

If you like cedar, smoke, and incense, give this one a try...maybe the plastic note I am getting is skin chemistry related.

Fumari is an odd one. Very incensey, dry, resinous, woody, and slightly smokey. If you want a true incense smell, sort of a "head shop" style incense, this is the way to go. Much more incensey to this nose than either Passage d'Enfer (which is too sweet and vegetal to smell like incense) or Messe de Minuit (which smells more like a musty couch surrounded by yellowed textbooks). Fumari starts off with lots of cedar. The cedar fades and the incense comes into the picture. It smells like a mix of frankincense, myrrh, and something smokey, at this point the cedar is in the picture, but not as much at the front as it was in the beginning. The dry down is more of the same - maybe getting a tad sweeter. I don't know that I personally would wear it, but someone looking for this type of incense would probably find this much to their liking. BTW, Ava Luxe's Luxe Editions really do seem to be better blended, more complex, and of a generally higher quality than their (her) other scents. They're worth checking out.

So, Montale says this is for the ladies. I think in this case Basenotes gets it right - this is clearly unisex, and for amber (a note that to my nose naturally smells more "feminine"), possibly even leaning to the masculine side. The opening is pretty intense - the amber in the top smells a bit salty and sea like, making me think this is ambergris and not tree resin amber. The bergamot is also playing a role here, adding a hesperidic sharpness. The dry down lasts forever, and like most Montales I've tested, takes forever to occur. By the base, it seems to have lots of amber and maybe some patchouli - warm, smooth, slightly powdery (less so than Amber Sultan or maybe even Ambre Precieux, IMO), and subtly animalic, it's a wonderful thing. This is one of my favorites so far from the line. If you like amber, and you want one with a little bit of an edge, a little less of the round, comfort scent thing, you have to check this out.

Erolfa is a wonderful stab at emulating the smell of sea air. I think it does it well, better even than Mare, which I find smells more like a greenhouse (light florals wafting on a warm breeze). The only scent I can think of that better emulates the smell of the ocean is Tonatto's Oltre, which is EXTREME. But while Oltre has an intense and sharp marine note, is very lonely smelling, and smells like a cold day at the ocean, just before a gathering storm, Erolfa I find is warmer, more inviting. It still has, as Indie_Guy points out, a solipsistic quality, which is to be expected, I think, because for me the smell of the salty ocean air is an introspective one.

I also agree with Foetidus (as usual) that, if you step inside the overall olfactory effect of Erolfa, you find that it's a nice green scent with floral and coniferous accents. Whatever it is, it smells wonderful, reminds me of sunny, warm days at the ocean, reminds me of the summer. It's casual in my mind, and lasts well for a scent of this type. It was one of the first marine fragrances I smelled, and is still one of my favorites.

I have the EDP, so this review refers to that scent, except where I compare it to the EDT. As scentemental mentions below, the EDP really is a different beast than the EDT due to the addition of an agarwood note. One will immediately recognize this note from its use in M7 - it smells like a very similar chemical here, not like the oud of a Montale, for example, though here, it is less prominent than it is in M7. It adds a medicinal burst to the opening, and a smooth but "twangy" woodsiness to the base. The Habit Rouge signature citrus burst is still there in the top, fading to create a vanilla-woods-citrus melange that can be both intoxicating and addictive.

The first time I sniffed this, I wasn't sure it was for me. Too sweet I thought. Too powdery. Too boring. Then I decided to WEAR it. The full day wear makes a huge difference. Guerlains wear so well throughout the course of the day. The Guerlain animalic note is here, but less so than it was in what I recall of the EDT I tried some time ago. I'm not sure how I class this scent, that is, when to wear it, where to wear it, casual versus formal, and so on. I think I just wear it when I feel like it, when I feel a little vibrant and bold, and that seems to work.

I am really surprised by all those here referring to Héritage as "stuffy," "formal," or "pompous." I find it's none of those; not in the least! To me, this is a wonderfully warm, deep, rich scent highlighted by notes of coriander, pepper, patchouli, and tonka. I consider it a versatile comfort scent and often wear it with a sweater and jeans in cooler weather. I've also worn it to the office numerous times (my office is really very casual). It is "classic" in the sense that it's very well done, uses some familiar "masculine" notes...but stuffy? Nah. I do wish the Guerlain "animalic" component were a tad stronger, and the tonka a bit less apparent. Other than that, this is a true great.

Smells quite a lot like Bond's New Haarlem, or rather New Haarlem smells like Rochas Man. They have the same perfumer behind them, so it makes sense. It's a sweet scent that smells like a mix of coffee, vanilla, and cocoa. It's not as complex as New Haarlem, or Angel Men for that matter. It's not as sweet as New Haarlem, and by the standards of many of today's oriental fragrances, it's not even all that sweet. It's relatively simple, and dries down to a very comfortable and soft, but still rich, gourmand scent. Totally unisex. Very nice scent, especially if you like gourmands.

A most unique and instantly recognizable scent. More gasoline smell even than SMN's Nostalgia, only coupled with a soft floral quality and a woody base rather than Nostalgia's leathery vanilla. For as light as it seems to go on, it has lots of longevity and projection. When I smell this I am reminded of my younger years, cutting grass for money; money that was spent on my car; a car that I bought to get girls (pretty typical here in the USofA). Funny how the smell of gasoline links to sex. Interesting, distinct, quirky, youthful, energetic, and even bizarre, it's hard to believe this was released by a mainstream designer house and continues to be sold in department stores to this day. Hats off to Dior.

Quality, but a bit boring and too typical. It starts off quite floral - the "blossom" in the orange blossom is apparent here. Dries down nicely, the floral-ness of the florals somewhat softens, the scent rounds off a bit more and what you are left with is a crisp, greenish, floral, citrus scent. I'd say unisex, but leaning feminine in my opinion. Decent longevity, but nothing mind-blowing. Overall, it's nice enough but nothing that would part me from my hundred or so dollars.

Sweet, boozy fruit notes on top of a creamy rich leathery base, which provides a wonderful form of oppositional balance. In some ways this reminds me slightly of the original Guess Men, possibly also Le Dandy, to a lesser degree. It shows its age a bit, but holds its own. And while I like it a lot, I don't know that it's worth the prices it is commanding on ebay right now. Too bad they discontinued this one. I can't imagine it was unpopular, and if it was, it was not due to the juice, but rather to the distribution or marketing. The educated consumer loses again.

I was surprised by how wearable Opium Pour Homme is. It's sweet for sure, but not as sweet as I would have imagined, given the reviews here. Not as sweet as say, Hanae Mori's men's fragrance, and much more natural smelling than that one. The fruit note in it was also a surprise, and to my nose, just the right touch to blend with the spices, giving it a little "lift." Overall it is exotic but familiar and comfortable, unique, and enjoyable. I was pleasantly surprised.

This is definitely in the line of Creed's miscreant scents - the black sheep, the ones that don't want to play by the rules, don't want to stay all nice and dressed up, minding their manners at the formal family luncheons held in the great dining hall of the Creed family mansion. In this group of misfits you've got: the festive lumberjack Baie de Genievre; the second cousin that lives in a cabin in the woods, Cypres Musc; the cousin that no one leaves alone with the children, Orange Spice; the straight-talking old codger Santal Imperial; the loopy young cousin Chèvrefeuille Original; and our current preoccupation, Ambre Canelle. Of these deviants, Ambre Canelle is the weird uncle. He's formal alright. He dresses up well, but there's just something a little "off" about him. He talks about government conspiracies and alien abductions. He brings his own utensils to dinner. He doesn't even seem to realize that other people try to avoid conversation with him, and then smile knowingly at each other when he suddenly stops a rant, makes a quick turn left, and walks away as if directed by voices they cannot hear.

There is stuff going on in Ambre Canelle that is interesting, amusing, and eccentric, but not altogether pleasant, and not something you'd want to have as your companion for any length of time, or in particularly sensitive situations, where your pride and reputation are on the line. I, like ipaid, get lots of jasmine - very indolic - with a massive whop of amber. But here the amber is drier than it normally seems. The overall effect is a dry, powerful, eccentric, sillage monster. Interesting, but odd.

The quality of this scent is unmistakable. Even though it is not my style, and something I will probably not keep (much less reach for often), I can definitely appreciate the craft that went into this. Read Foetidus' review and you will have a good sense of what this fragrance is all about. While it may sound like a repeat, it's all true: floral but not flowery, classically fashioned, masculine, carnation, moss, vetiver, patchouli. Maybe it's a tad dated in that there are not many masculine fragrances made in this style today, but it holds its own considering its age. And there's something positively charming and comforting about it. Maybe I will hold onto it after all and see what develops.

This is truly nasty stuff. The opening is very sharp, and to my nose, synthetic. It changes dramatically, and the woods that eventually emerge are quiet, and don't last long at all. They too are not warm and rich, not natural, but rather plasticy and, to use that overused word, synthetic. Not good. Fortunately it doesn't last long.

Smelling this, one can easily sense that this was a key component of Black Cashmere. It's a mostly linear, slightly sweet, lightly smokey, powdery wood scent with that soapy-musky "cashmere" thing going on. Overall, it's just not interesting enough on its own to warrant buying. I like Black Cashmere much better - it's more interesting, more complex, spicier, and overall better.

Oh my, the florals. It starts off smelling something like Malle's Carnal Flower - very damp tuberose. Then within seconds that quickly disappears, replaced by what seems to be a rush of aldehydes. After that it picks up a very soapy, incredibly floral lily smell with maybe a hint of rose, but it's hard to tell - lots of flowers. It wears a bit like Chanel no. 5. It also reminds me of the fancy soaps my grandmother has, the kind that, when I use them, I have to rinse...and rinse...and rinse...and rinse...and rinse...just to get rid of the overly floral smell. Not for me.

This reminded me very, very much of Reminiscence Patchouli, a fragrance that I believe is pretty old, been around for a while, just not here in the US. The topnotes definitely show lots of dry and earthy, though slightly softened patchouli. Then, as it dries, it becomes sweeter, gaining lots of warm, rich amber. It's heavier and more dated than Patchouli Patch; not as chic or modern. Like Reminiscence Patchouli it's nice enough but not overly compelling or interesting, not something that calls out for me to drop the cash on a bottle of it.

Well, I think the printing gaffe was actually Vijay's gaffe - I read him say so somewhere - so apparently Sandalsliver was the intended name after all. And that's kind of what this is - a sliver of sandalwood. There's a brightness and fizziness to Sandalsliver that I find interesting. It's softer than many Montales, though hardly soft, and not really what I would call a skin scent, even though at one time Montale did call this Skin. The muskiness of it is not really animalic, but soft and sweet. I would say it's genderless, but less adventurous men may want to stay away. It lasts well and is interesting enough to warrant a thumbs-up review. Still, there was nothing so compelling to make this a must-buy for me. Think bright, fizzy, slightly sweet, musky, and woodsy, and you'll get the idea.

What can I say about Steam Aoud? It's weird. It smells like a combination of iodine, oud, and sandalwood. It's lighter than some of Montale's other oud fragrances, particularly the nearly overwhelming powerhouse Attar. It starts off smelling like the iodine the nurse smears on your arm before (s)he draws your blood. It changes quite a bit as the iodine quality burns off and the woodsiness of aoud comes into the picture. Montale claims there is amber in here, but I don't smell it. The typical Montale medicinal oud, though, is present throughout. It lasts a long time; the trace of it is still present even over a day later. Steam Aoud is interesting for its oddness, but not great, and probably not for most.

Ambre Narguilé is probably my favorite Ellena scent. It is the only one I think I'd consider wearing (well, maybe also Amber Extreme). Ambre Narguilé, while it is nice, is still something of a disappointment. I just expected more of a special, uber-expensive Hermès fragrance. I also expected a lot more (any?) noticeable amber. Instead I get a very sweet, almost gourmand fragrance with lots of vanilla, some very light spices, and a berryish, almost boozy fruit note. The topnotes in particular lacked pizzazz; they smelled like any of a million other sweet-fruity-warm-fuzzy-fizzy oriental fragrances. It's pleasant, it's sweet, it's slightly more "feminine" than "masculine," it's softer than most ambers...but where is the amber, and where is uniqueness that one would expect of a fragrance at this price point, made by a world-class perfumer? All-in-all it reminds me of a weaker, paler, less interesting, more linear version of Ambre Russe.

Very dry woods, musk, and pepper...lots of pepper, very real-smelling pepper. But contrary to the other reviewers, I do not find this to be classy. Like many of Ellena's scents, I find it to be pretentious, putting some philosophical belief or theoretical position above what ultimately works in the execution of the fragrance. Honestly, Ellena is the one "great" perfumer I don't "get." This scent is no exception. So dry, so straightforward, and after the initial topnote blast, so quiet, that it comes off as a whisper coughed from the skin. If Lutens' scents are richly constructed novels, with layer-upon-layer of meaning emerging as they dry, Ellena's scents are like Haiku. I guess I prefer my fragrances to be novels rather than poetry.

I can't believe I have not previously reviewed this. Of course, when you come to Basenotes, one of the very first fragrances you will hear about and be recommended is M7. The reputation is well-deserved. M7 is thick and sweet (not as sweet as many of today's men's scents though), ambery with a medicinal touch. To me the dominant notes are the agarwood and amber. The medicinal tinge of the agarwood, as well as the biting spiciness of what could be ginger, keep this from being a gooey sweet mess. Instead it's warm and sensual, while also being edgy and unique. The only other scent that achieves a somewhat similar effect to my nose is MPG's Soir d'Orient...and try to find that for $15 at Marshall's or TJ Maxx. I'm not saying the two are equal; M7 smells like a less expensive and more manufactured version of the obviously artisanal quality of Soir d'Orient. M7 is also more modern smelling, and less overtly "eastern" in flavor. It's a westernized take on some traditionally eastern notes. I had a bottle, sold it, and just now bought another bottle as I decided I missed it too much. Good stuff.

This is probably the best of the lighter/fresher Kouroses. The pineapple kind of messes this one up for me, as it's not a note I'm very fond of in men's fragrances (I have the same issue with the DK Fuels). It is however, the most Kouros-like of the Kouros light derivatives, and to my nose, the least synthetic smelling. The other light versions seem to be more about modern (if synthetic) woods like cedar, with some mint. This one retains the basic fougere-oriental (fougiental?) quality of Kouros with that signature, atypical melange of notes. If you like Kouros, but want something a little lighter for the office or warmer weather, then this is probably a good option for you.

This is probably the most atypical iris scent I've tried. Usually, I find iris to be cold and aloof, with a dustiness that I don't particularly care for. It seems it can add a three-dimensionality, a lushness, to scents that use it judiciously, but normally, I don't find it to be a "pretty" or "sexy" note. Here though, the iris smells more like violets than it does in any other iris scent I've tested. In fact, if it were not named Orris, or if I were testing it blind, I probably would have guessed this was a voilet scent, not an iris scent.

That said, I'm still not sure I would call this scent "pretty." It's more a mysterious and sexy scent than a pretty one. If LesNez's The Unicorn Spell is a violet scent that brings to mind a woman's romanticized memories of her childhood room and the dreams she had there, then Orris is the scent of that same woman, all grown up, dressed to kill, and exuding an air of mystery and confidence. In other words, I find Orris to be a sexy, feminine, grown-up scent.

The Tauer touch is there in the form of a dark, smoky, woodsy base that calls to mind a lighter version of Lonestar Memories. There is also a medicinal quality to this that adds the exoticism and mysteriousness I keep mentioning...probably the agarwood. Like all the other Tauer scents, this just doesn't last that long on me - I get a few good hours out of it. But for those few hours, it's a distinctive and interesting ride. In this case, it's the warmest, sexiest, iris scent I've tried. I probably wouldn't wear it, but I'd love to smell it on a woman.

A boozy, almost wine-like (makes sense, huh?) scent with a sweet, warm, smooth drydown of vanilla, woods, and a suede-like leather. I like 1270, but something about it, maybe the over-ripe fruit, makes it lean a tad to the feminine side, sort of the way the plum note in 10 Corso Como shifts that one from the truly unisex column for me. Frapin 1270 is definitely interesting, unique, and multi-faceted, and well worth checking out if you like sweet, boozy, quasi-foody scents. The woodsiness and suede notes keep it from being too sweet or flubby, and make it a wearable and comforting scent. Pretty good, maybe just not for me.

I noticed in a thread on the boards that someone said the new Guess Man is the same as the old Guess Men, only repackaged. No one argued with this there, and the thread is old, so I figured instead of replying to that thread, it might be more useful to post a review here and debunk this notion.

The old Guess Men and new Guess Man could not be more different - they are nothing alike. The old Guess Men, to my nose, is a far superior creation. It is smooth but sharp, warm, classy, sophisticated, and blended in a way that, if I were to smell it without knowing what it is, I may say it's an MPG scent, or possibly some long-lost Patou creation. It's distinctive and interesting, even if it smells a bit like an 80s scent. See Foetidus' excellent review of the original Guess Men to get a great description of that fragrance.

The newer Guess Man smells like so many other new designer scents. To this nose, they all smell the same: sweet, fruity, light and inoffensive, with a light androgynous musky drydown. Nothing that could be offensive to someone (even if that imagined someone has no taste), nothing that might be off-putting in the topnotes (even if it adds incredible depth or interest to the drydown), and nothing that might be perceived as challengining in any way.

In other words, they test well with focus groups in the 1-second paper strip test. Unfortunately that also means that they are boring, as nothing good has ever been created through the process of focus group testing, which tends to reduce everything to the lowest common denominator by removing all the interesting, if potentially challenging, aspects. (As an example, consider the Porsche 911. It would not even exist if its designer had used focus groups. Now that Porsche does use such data to design their cars, their vehicles have lost much of their original character.) In short, the new Guess Man has no character. Judging by the amounts of this already being liquidated on ebay, I guess that the Guess name alone is not selling this product. Maybe companies need to realize that taking a chance on offending some people with something interesting and distinctive is the only way to sell.

Spicy, boozy, woody, warm, and dark, but not really a comfort scent - to my nose, this is more of a social scent. It opens with a prominent whiskey note, which is sweetened just enough to balance the very dry woodsiness underneath. As it dries, the spices come forward, the whiskey fades, but the slight sweetness remains. Going into the base, it's the wood and sweetness that still linger, with maybe just a touch of vetiver. Toward the base, it reminds me a tiny bit of Timbuktu, probably because of the dry, smoky wood note (really though, on the whole, they don't smell much alike).

I don't mean to suggest this is an overly sweet scent - it's not. It's boozy while avoiding those overripe fruit notes that can sometimes be off-putting, often reminding people of urine or puke. This scent has none of that. Idole is airier (that Giacobetti signature touch, as others have put it) than Le Dandy, Ambre Russe, or Frank no.2, all I which I also consider to be "boozy" scents. It's not as sweet as Le Dandy or Ambre Russe. It's smoother and more refined than Frank no. 2, and less overtly "masculine." Idole, because of it's "airy" and modern touch, is also more versatile than any of the other "boozy" scents I listed - I could see wearing this for a special dinner, a night out, a day at the office, or a house party. It's sort of a classy party scent, if that makes sense. And it lasts surprisingly long. After I put it on and it dries, it seems to disappear totally when the whiskey fades, but then I catch whiffs of it again throughout the day. It smells wonderful on my shirt at the end of the day.

I have not yet had to buy a bottle of this because for some reason I keep on receiveing spray samples of it from Lubin! Once those are gone though, I may need to find a bottle of this. Each time I wear it, I like it a bit more and enjoy its versatility. Obviously, I am thumbs-up on this one.

As with many Lutens scents, there is a lot going on here. It starts off with a sweet, candied orange note, this is balanced with what smells to me like immortelle, lending a bitter, herbal quality. In addition to these there are clove and honey notes, and all of that sits on a base of amber, which adds a warm animalic sweetness to the end of this fragrance. Overall, it reminds me of a very good candle for the home, one that is tailor-made for the holidays, or perhaps a pomander ball. Something about the combination of oranges and spices always brings to my mind the holidays.

This combo of course begs comparison to other orange/spice fragrances like Creed's Orange Spice and MPG's Secret Melange. There really isn't much comparison though, as this is a totally different beast. At times Mandarine Mandarin calls to mind Cuir Mauresque, only minus the leather of CM and with a more noticeable amber note. As tmp00 mentioned, a comparison can also be made with Chypre Rouge, probably because of the immortelle. While Chypre Rouge was almost unbearable to me, in its overly bitter Goutalishness, Mandarine Mandarin is to my nose a deft use of immortelle, using it to balance and embitter a typically overly sweet mandarine note.

It's a very interesting scent, complex, with the usual Lutens layers-of-development quality, and I can see myself wearing this this holiday season, in the right setting, probably with a sweater. But after that, I am not sure I will reach for this often.

Lonestar is heavy, thick, dark, and greasy. I had really hoped for images of a dusty western US landscape, with tumbleweeds rolling past, cowboy boots, horse saddles, maybe even horses, but instead I get the image of working on a tractor in an old barn, wearing greasy, dirty, leather gloves in the darkness and the dead of winter. I've spent more than a few winter evenings repairing machinery, so this image is very real for me, and not an altogether pleasant image. Those who have never spent a night hungry and cold, working on machinery that tears open your frigid, stiff, and dry skin might want to romanticize such imagery, but for me, it's not all that pleasant. I have a hard time getting past this notion when I smell Lonestar.

Being more objective for a moment, Lonestar very much reminds me of Tauer's first men's scent, Desert Marocain, only here the tar and dirt elements have been amped up. There is still that smoky woodiness that to my mind defines Tauer's first three scents. Lonestar dries down to a scent very similar to Marocain. In fact, Desert Marocain does a better job of bringing to my mind the western US imagery I had hoped for with Lonestar.

I don't want to give the impression that this is in any way a "poor" scent. I like it for what it is, and I can see how, for many, this would bring to mind the desired imagery. It just takes me somewhere else entirely.

Parfum d'Empire has to be one of the most overlooked houses. Every one of their scents is, to my mind and nose, successful in what it tries to do. This scent is all leather, smooth and refined. There's a slight powdery and sweetly floral quality to it, but I can't pick out any individual notes. The scent it most reminds me of is Pierre Cardin's Cuir Casaque. Cuir Ottoman is actually pretty close to that scent, but less powdery, less floral, and because of that, to my nose, more unisex and more approachable. It's softer, wearing closer to the skin than Cuir Casaque, which to my mind makes it more wearable for those semi-formal occasions where I imagine scents like these work best. If you like smooth, powdery leather, you need to try this. Another winner from this house, which already boasts one of my favorite "citrus" scents (Iskander) and one of my favorite Ambers (Ambre Russe).

This is one of the stranger scents I have tried. The opening is not really unisex, but more like androgynous, or even extra-terrestrial. I find it to be very bright and incredibly intense in the opening notes. It calls to mind an exploding star, the word "supernova" pops into my head when I smell these topnotes. They seem to be a mix of hesperides, bright and sharp. The chypre feel is already present at the beginning. As it dries, it softens of course, and becomes more ordinary and unisex than extra-terrestrial. The middle seems to be a soft, floral, unisex chypre smell, and the base is all oakmoss and musk. It's well blended, as everything comes together in a harmonious whole, but probably not something I would wear often. Like Poivre, this is a good "women's" Caron scent for men to check out.

Poivre starts out strong, warm, spicy, and very full. It smells leathery and mellow for a while, still with that warm, spicy, floral combo that the other reviewers have mentioned. Unfortunately on me, as it reaches the base, it just unravels. The oakmoss and vetiver become too apparent and it takes on a weird vegetal-like smell. (A lot of chypres seem to do this on me, so maybe it's just a chemistry issue.) I wish it had held together because for a while it was a very smooth, intriguing, spicy blend, blended in that way that makes it difficult to discern individual notes.

For men looking to explore the allegedly "feminine" Caron scents, this would be a great place to start. There was nothing overtly feminine about this scent. Even in the base, if it reminds me of anything, it is Richard James EDT, or maybe a less "gothic" Iquitos.

I really wanted to love this fragrance, but I just can't get there. To my nose, myrrh is the main player here, not sandalwood. Santalum smells like a fairly straightforward and simple blend. The topnotes offer a wonderful, eccentric and spicy rush, but soon afterward it settles into a medicinal blend, made just slightly sweeter by the cinnamon. I really wanted this to be woodsier and spicier.

Perhaps oddly, the scent that this most reminds me of is Luten's Vetyver Oriental. While in VO the myrrh is accented with vetiver, cocoa, and iris, here is is accented with cinnamon and sandalwood, though to my nose only a light touch of sandalwood. VO definitely seems more complex. Santalum is nice enough, but I had hoped for more from it. As it is, it just doesn't quite do it for me.

"Dirty" is the first word that comes to mind when I first apply Derby. It's dirty in a couple ways. First, it's dirty as in dusty. There's a chaotic stew of notes in the opening that certainly would be off-putting to someone who didn't wait long enough for what was to come. Two images come to mind when I sniff this opening. One is of dust, swirling and billowing, as at a horse-race track. The other is of the chaotic noise of all the instruments tuning and practicing before the start of an orchestral performance.

The other reviewers have made significant note of the peppermint, and rightfully so. It is the mint that seems to marshall this mess into a coherent whole. The mint stays throughout, it adds organization and vibrancy to the whole composition. To my nose, it is almost like a conductor, pulling things together, which is the exact opposite role of what I would expect mint to play. Typically I think of mint as being like ginger, adding a zing or a zest, a little sizzle on top, but here, it seems like it is the note that holds together and smooths out the chaos of the other notes. It is this use of peppermint here that made me realize how artfully one component can be used.

As Derby dries, it gets smoother and more subtle, a near-perfect blend of moss, woods, and animalic notes. It is refined without being at all stuffy; gentlemanly but still edgy; a classy rebel and brawler. I wish I could find a bottle or two of this!

Eau Lente is thus far my favorite of the Diptyque line. I'll piggy-back on Foetidus' review here, as I think he's done an excellent job capturing the essence of this scent. It is a spicy, woodsy, musky scent. The opoponax here seems less in my face than it often does. It's more subtle here, adding a warmth that is slightly animalic, like amber or musk, as well as adding depth. As Pluran points out, in this scent it never goes to the over-the-top vanilla sweetness that opoponax sometimes does. Instead, here the muskiness and "browness" of the note is accentuated. I wish it lasted longer, and if I had one complaint about this fragrance, it would be that it can sometimes smell a bit like a holiday candle. Otherwise, it's great for those who like woods and spice with a touch of sweetness.

I finally got around to trying this popular, oft-reviewed scent. There's not much more I can add to zztopp's review. I'll just agree with him, on all but the Creed plug, but that's only because I have not yet tried Bois de Santal. I don't doubt it's more interesting than Tam Dao, because I had the same feeling of incompleteness, an unfinished sense from Tam Dao. It started off greener and sharper than I thought, was lighter than I expected it to be, as well as drier, and less complex. On top of that it never developed all that much. It then disappeared too soon. I can't say that I was totally overwhelmed by it as so many others here - many of whom I respect and with whom I often agree - seem to be. I'm a little let down. As far as "sandalwood" scents go, I prefer Santal Noble and Santal de Mysore (though those are more like gourmand scents) and Profumum's Santalum (though that's more about myrrh).

Cumin. Armloads of cumin, with some dry woods and possibly a light touch of musk, or maybe my nose is just so wishing for some musk in this that it smells it whether there is any or not. Cumin and woods. There's also a bit of coriander, but it's no match for the cumin overload. Why is this called "The Other?" My speculations: Because others stare at you as you wear it, wondering why you smell as you do? Because no other would wear it? Or because you really wish some other were wearing it? Not my favorite Diptyque.

Very much a straight-up, dry spice scent. It smells like one of those spice rubs that you can buy to rub into meat to prepare it for cooking. In this case, I can't help but smell predominantly curry and cumin. As PM notes, L'Autre is another scent in this vein. I think Oriental Lumpur is more about foody spices than L'Autre, while the Diptyque scent is more approachable, its cumin being tempered with woods and some musk. Here, the cumin is "tempered" with curry, or vice-versa, much like chasing your shot of Jack Daniels with Jack on the rocks. There is barely the slightest hint of sweetness to keep it from being unreasonable. Personally, I don't care for this all that much, nor would I see myself wearing it often, but it is interesting.

The most interesting of the three LesNez scents is also the most feminine. The violets jump out at me. In many ways it reminds me of L'Artisan's Verte Violette, only due to the iris, colder, and more distant, with the air of a fairy tale. In that sense it is a successful scent; I think it lives up to its name. But it is not something most men would want to wear. I'm not even sure I'd call it a women's scent, but more of a girl's scent. Even then, I'm just not sure. Even though it's approachable, the coldness of it makes it somewhat serious. Interesting that most fairy tales are like that. With approachable characters they tell stories that are often dark and cold. This is like the other LesNez scents - "watery" and not my style, but at least here I can appreciate the vision at work.

Warm, woodsy, soft, and lightly spicy, this is the most traditionally masculine of the LesNez scents. It also has that same white musk / cashmere musk note that never fails to annoy the crap out of me. All-in-all it's just too indistinct for me to give it a thumbs-up. It's not so bad to deserve a thumbs-down, but it's not something I would ever buy. Again, like L'Antimatière, this reminds me of Krizia's Time Uomo, not so much in notes as in overall effect. In some way, all of these smell like they could have been one of Ellena's earlier attempts at "watery." I just don't like the style.

I hate this stuff. (How many times have you seen me start a review like that? I don't think I ever have, that's how much I dislike this. I really hate this stuff.) Whatever it is that comprises this scent, is the very thing that I hate in many fragrances, most of which are cheaper fragrances. Is it "white musk?" Or "cashmere musk?" Or that molecule in Escentric Molecule's scent, that Iso-E Super or whatever it's called? I don't know. But whatever it is it's a fabric-softener-like greasiness made into a fragrance, and not much more. I dislike the smell of it, and I dislike having it on my skin even more. The worst of the Les Nez scents for sure, I was actually angry after I sprayed this on my hand, angry that I had been duped into trying this. If you like watery but persistent, neutered musk scents like Krizia's Time Uomo or the Gendarme scents, then you may want to try this.

One of my favorite, possibly my #1, "patchouli" fragrance. The patchouli here is tame; it's present, more so than say L'Artisan's Patchouli Patch, but it's under control, restrained. The scent unfolds quite a bit, getting darker and sweeter the longer it wears. Like many other PG scents, there is an animalic muskiness that persists throughout, adding a warmth and edgy dirtiness to the scent. The darkness of of it all makes the name seem very appropriate. Balancing the thickness and darkness is a ginger note that adds an unexpected medicinal vibe and brings an uplifting, modern twist to notes that otherwise would remind me of dirty hippies shagging in the weeds somewhere. It's interesting - modern and classic all at once. I wish it lasted a little longer, but overall the lasting power is not bad, just not what I'd expect of a patchouli fragrance in what I think is EDP strength. Still, well worth checking out.

If you have tested Eau de Gloire and you liked it except for the funkiness of what I can only guess is the heavy dose of geranium, then you really want to check out Iskander. It is reminiscent of Eau de Gloire (which I will repeat is intended as a men's scent, not a women's scent as it's listed here), but is more approachable, less chaotic. It's funny that the downfall of Eau de Gloire is that it overextends, it attempts to reach too far, attempting to include too many notes. That's appropriate for a scent designed with Napoleon in mind. Iskander does not fall into that trap. The opening reminds me a bit of Creed's Himalaya, but the drydown is richer and fuller, with a darker base that makes Iskander more substantial and more interesting. The citrus opening stays throughout, but it darkens as the scent progresses. The oakmoss is noticeable but not overwhelming. The musk becomes more apparent as the scent dries, adding a touch of animalism. The notes list amber, but I don't notice it all that much. Iskander lasts a long time on me and has jumped to the top of my list of what I consider to be citrusy fragrances. All the Parfum d'Empire scents I have tried have been successful at what they aimed to do. This one is definitely good stuff. I can't wait to try Cuir Ottoman.

The thing that stands out most to me about this scent is the overripe plum. It adds an almost fermented fruit smell that is equally attractive and off-putting. Something about overripe fruit also smells feminine to my nose. I don't get much sandalwood until the very, very end. Throughout I get the plum, with incense and oud fleshing it out. It's good enough, but not the "wow," rich, fragrant journey that I was expecting.

Well, I guess I have to come to the "defense" of one of my all-time favorite fragrances. I think this could be the most misunderstood scent in existence. First, I have to agree with Baron - there is leather here, lots of it, and in fact, it's pretty intense, almost harsh, sort of like the leather of Cuiron but deeper and richer; sort of like Knize Ten but sharper, not as buttery. This is not the vague, tough, chewy leathery quality that sits in the middle of many designer scents (JHL, Varvatos, Richard James) adding body and support to the star ingredients. It is instead a brazen leather, a star in its own right, that for some reason reminds me of the leather of high speed motion: leather seats in a Ferrari convertible, the leather jacket of the motorcyclist; maybe the leather of a whip.

Let's also remember that this is called Moorish Leather. More than just about any other scent, I believe Cuir Mauresque accurately delivers on its name. When I think of the Moors, I think of the exoticism of northern Africa, and especially southern Spain. When I think of southern Spain, I think of oranges and spices. Cuir Mauresque has those: the candied orange note, the nutmeg, the cinnamon, and the myrrhe to add some mystery, appropriate for the region.

I once used the metaphor that this is the leather of riding in that aforementioned Ferrari convertible, or that motorcycle, or maybe on horseback, speeding through some orange groves... maybe on the way to dinner where a spicy middle-eastern dish awaits. It starts off harsh and exotic, it smooths and warms as you wear it, but never becomes "comfortable" the way Knize Ten does. I think it challenges what we take "leather" to mean. For us, here in the 21st century western world, leather has come to mean leather chairs and sofas in expensive restaurants, lounges, and gentleman's clubs, maybe even fancy leather gloves, or the leather purse. All these are smooth, sophisticated, buttery. Cuir Mauresque is not these. It is exotic, mysterious, and challenging. To quote Baron once more, it's a masterpiece.

An extremely powdery leather. I've been trying this one for some time from my decant, waiting to "get it," waiting for that "aha" moment of realization, but it's just not coming for me. I put it on and it goes: powdery leather, then leathery powder. It smells distinguished, mature, classic, totally unisex (maybe leaning feminine by today's standards) - but also to my nose dated, anachronistic. I feel like this is something that could have been worn in the days that men wore wigs. It also reminds me of my great aunt's house...maybe the fancy soaps she kept by sink (don't use them; just look at them!), maybe the house full of Pierre Cardin beddings. If you like leather and powder, this is for you. I prefer my leather to be sharp and crisp.

I've got to agree with Marlen regarding Mahogany. While this is not as complex or "natural" smelling as Patou Pour Homme Prive, the overall effect of Mahogany (after they drydown) is similar. I can't say that this smells like mahogany - I doubt it does - but the name is appropriate in that the scent brings to mind the color brown. Woodsy, with noticeable lavender, and yes, something a little synthetic, Mahogany smells classic and modern at the same time. Of note are the topnotes. The first 30 seconds or so smell like a burning joint (marijuana), a sort of herbal bittersweet scent. That passes quickly, and the woods and lavender emerge. I will disagree with Marlen on one point...I get little longevity here. If I get it into my clothes, I can get it to last the better part of the day. If not, it lasts a few hours max. I like it for its classic yet modern vibe.

As usual, Foetidus's review leaves little room for adding any additional insight - the man is a great reviewer. Still, I'll take a shot and add my two cents. Cyprès-Musc won't win any awards for complexity, but for what it is, and what function it serves in my wardrobe, it's wonderful. It's is one of the more overtly masculine Creed scents, possibly the most masculine. The coniferous aspect of this scent is strong and striking. It reminds me of the topnotes of CdG's Zagorsk. Both have a heavy, turpentine-like quality to that coniferous note. It's not as creamy or smooth as Baie de Genievre - Creed's other outdoorsy, masculine scent - nor does it have the spices of that scent. To my nose Cyprès-Musc is mostly cypress and musk, with a touch of herbal mint to sweeten and soften the mix. The musk here is somewhat l