Fragrance Reviews by Topper

Gravitas in a bottle. This may be Jean Laporte’s masterpiece. Sweet and dry at the same time. Coffee, patchouli, incense and dry woods all on a thick belly of amber. This is a heavier scent that I prefer for cooler months. The silage and projection are only moderate, which is probably a blessing since this is such a rich scent. But it cohabits nicely with other scents in the environment, and you need not fear inviting it to dinner.

If you like light, trendy or androgynous scents (Though my wife thinks she wants to steal it!), Santal Noble very well may not be for you. But if you like the scent notes named in a perfectly balanced and evolving accord, and you’re rich, you might wish to pick up a bottle. If you’re poor, you should probably get one sooner, because when you wear it you’ll THINK you’re rich! This smells as if it could have been brewed a couple hundred years ago. It smells like old money.

And if all this sounds like a starched collar, or perhaps even a hair shirt, it’s not. Santal Noble is very sexy. It’s warm and rich, but in a serious and unblinking way. It doesn’t flirt. During intimate moments the amber base notes rise and project more making this a marvelous scent for romantic evenings.

I had to learn how use it. Two sprays to the chest work best for me. Application to the extremities or clothing yields little. Longevity is marvelous. Though the top notes burn off quickly, the middle notes of woods last for many hours with echoes of the patchouli and incense occasionally still heard. The amber is still there the next day. And pleasingly, while used almost daily for the last six months, only about a third of the bottle has been consumed.

I wonder if Jean LaPorte was chuckling while he created Roote du Vetiver. When I first smelled it, I thought a better name might be Root of All Evil. I obtained a small sample (No more is needed to unleash this beast!) this past summer, and immediately upon applying the slightest bit, I was overcome by a volatile reek! Blackcurrants? Vetiver? Perhaps if they’ve been dissolved in a vat of acetone! I challenge anyone who’s had the misfortune of becoming too familiar with the stench of this solvent not to be immediately transported back to whenever that familiarity was gained.

All earlier remarks concerning silage, projection and longevity are right on target. Silage? Like the Queen Mary! Projection? Infinity! Longevity? Forever! Essence of vetiver grasses and roots, blackcurrant, leafy green, bourbon vetiver, precious woods, jasmine, sandalwood and musk? If you say so. But all I get clearly is blackcurrant and the reek of solvent. The remainder does not remind me of vetivers I am familiar with from Creed or Guerlain. I don’t get moist soil or vegetation. In fact, if you take away this scent’s overwhelming volatility, its actual fragrance seems to me quite subtle, and even delicate.

I’ve sampled it again, now that the weather has grown cold, and must confess it’s not entirely without appeal in cold, dry conditions that minimize its volatility. Not something I’d choose to wear but perhaps not something that will immediately gag the minions either.

This is a good scent. ItÕs fresh, clean and woodsy. But itÕs also a more refined and nuanced version of a 1950Õs after-shave. I smell anise and pine needles, and a short time later I smell only balsam. And not very long at all after that, I can smell very little at all. I find the best thing about Fou d'Absinth is its advertising copy. ItÕs a pleasant scent, but itÕs trivial. It reminds me a great deal of a more refined Mennen.

This is the gold standard of green scents. Simultaneously extroverted, refined and complex. Light-hearted, but beautiful. If it were a musical instrument, it would be a trumpet. Like most Creed scents I’ve experienced, I would describe it as smelling bright and clear. There’s nothing dark or muddy in it. It is a romantic scent. And a sexy scent. While all scents smell differently on, and to different people, women mostly seem to like it. And most seem to like it a lot!

When I first sampled GIT, I smelled mainly cut grass, and didn’t think I liked the scent. But as the top notes wore down and the accord focussed more on the floral heart notes and powdery musk basenotes, my perception changed. Repeated wearings showed layers of richness and complexity, which had first escaped me. The top notes aren’t grass, but citrus. I neither know, nor will attempt to name them all. But the first impression is of grass because the citrus is in accord with the iris and whatever other floral bits makeup the heartnotes. There are similarities to Creed’s OV. But the both the citrus and florals are brighter and bolder in GIT. And there is ultimately no vetiver to undercut their higher register.

Perhaps four hours after application, the citrus topnotes are largely gone. The basenotes are rising to combine with the remaining florals into a rich, creamy, powdery accord that I suspect many have described as the Creed house note. I love it! It works on me, and for me. Sillage is prodigious, and longevity is excellent for me too. Faint suggestions even linger the next day after a shower.

Despite it’s excellent sillage, this scent has seemed to offend no one, and delight many. I would have to describe it as an elegant casual scent. Or perhaps one that is casually elegant. And if it works for you, I believe it’s not out of place in almost any setting.

Green. Fresh. Cool. It smells like Spring. Smooth, but rich. Beautiful, though not sexy like GIT, with which it shares some notes. This is a paradoxical scent. Sometimes it is a soft citrus, sometimes fresh cut grass, sometimes a creamy vetiver and sometimes powder. And sometimes a single accord of all of these. This accord is both profound and elegant. It can be addictive.

If it had the sillage and longevity of GIT, it could contend with this sibling. But OV is puzzling. I have received compliments when I could no longer easily detect the scent. And while the sillage might be extensive, the total effect is of a beautiful, fresh, clean aura, rather than a definite scent. Ladies often like to get close to someone wearing GIT. These same ladies seem drawn to the aura of OV almost unaware of the wearer.

OV has been a spring and summer scent for me. It is lovely, and suitable for most any occasion. While casual, it’s also elegant. But the despite the paradox and mysteries of its sillage and longevity, it’s mostly gone from my skin after a couple of hours, which is just too short lived for me.

“rough dark green wool” - - - - Yes.

Perhaps once in the presence of mothballs? - - - -Yes.

Old, dirty army blankets? - - - - Exactly!

A strange and perhaps a brilliant achievement of the perfumer’s art, but the only scent to ever cause me to feel literally nauseous.