I love its green chypre intensity, its mystery and its charms so much that I cheat - yes, I admit it - I cheat and do the unthinkable and use it with a spritz on my stomach and then use a spritz of Yatagan by Caron on my chest. The 'marriage' of the two is perfect - two dries - the driest masculine fragrance of them all and the driest feminine fragrance. People ask me what I'm wearing and I say - this and that. 'This' and 'that' being the two most ardent of fragrances. Now, I'm considering a further spritz of Jacomo de Jacomo on my arms... you know, just to complete the amalgam. By itself, Jean-Louis Sherrer is magnificent and fierce enough for a man to wear it with aplomb - the Chypre.
Ethereal? I was drawn to a tape measure my daughter had used and returned to the bits and bobs drawer. My nose led me to it. I became obsessed by a cedar fragrance that was... well, ethereal coming from somewhere in my kitchen. My daughter had left for New York a week or so before so, this fragrance affords a longevity like few others. It augments the wearer or the tape measure that she touched whilst wearing the fragrance. It amplifies and qualifies and caresses other fragrances as if providing some woody base notes and some compelling notes that I associate with civet as it might be worn on some higher vibration. I know this sounds affected and airy fairy but this fragrance is bizarre in the waves it seems to create. It 'pulsates' with tones and notes. I am sitting here sniffing a tape measure obsessively. If someone told me pheromones were involved in this composition, I'd believe it. I'd believe anything, however fanciful, about this fragrance. I will buy some and hope I smell as alluring as that tape measure; an ironic if literal way to measure the success of a fragrance.
This is like a politically correct version of an '80's powerhouse fragrance with the same initial impact that Jacomo de Jacomo has. And after the initial force of the leather and spirit with the nose still tingling at such unbridled hostility, the fragrance develops into the demure and gentlemanly tone as beeswax and burnt wood notes recall the louche mood of the well worn club armchair which might be exactly what was planned. Like Jacomo de Jacomo, it develops into a sensible shoes fragrance. All the animalic insinuations have abated as politically correct 'leather' reassures a younger set ignorant of deep echoes of those powerhouse '80's days that all is well. It takes a while for the nose to recover fully and when it did, I found myself wanting more of that initial impact but I chose, instead, between Givenchy Gentleman (the orginal) and Caron's Yatagan. Recalling both was enough somehow. For all of this, I do like the initial bravado of this fragrance even though it serves merely to remind me of what once was and how far we've traveled with Dudley Do-right.
Pleasant but not amazing, a quality fragrance upon which one might rely for several hours of understated and possibly underwhelming performance Allure Homme is worth having. I keep it in the car for incidental use; consequently, the interior of my car smells very pleasant. Ultimately, it is a demure fragrance featuring tonka bean and a smattering of restrained versions of powerful elements.
A distinctive fragrance, a compelling fragrance, an artificial concoction which induces headaches if over used. I cannot sense anything organic in this lovely, sexy composition and, inevitably, it causes me a sinus headache. Still, it's lovely until unless I discover I've run out of aspirin.
There is a starkly matter of fact quality to the tobacco and cedar that seems to evaporate or vanish quickly but reappears over several hours. It is one of a number of fragrances I like to wear together because each offer different elements which I like. I team Cuba Red with Quorum Silver and then, hours later, I spritz a little Yatagan. Cuba Red woulld work well with any of the fragrances I enjoy. I know the melange approach is boorish but I don't care; after all, it's the outcome that matters.
An odd and disappointing fragrance that is overpriced. It's as if it features third rate synthetic fragrances that lead to a cloying metallic twang. Cheap lavender can be very a toxic component in any assembly of fragrances. The best that can be said is that it is not literally nauseating.
At first the exuberance of the fragrance is cloying but this intensely raspberry, musk and floral burst lasts only a short time before... I realise that Blue Coyote perfectly describes the fragrance. Please see previous review. Spray it on someone you love and then embrace that person an hour later to best appreciate the dry down and the qualities of this creation. This has a dynamic reminiscent of YSL's M7. Do not over use as it might cause a head ache.
Initially, it worried me that I might smell like a rose and jasmine home-ware pot-pourri but the rose made me start to worry about attracting aphis. This is for rose fragrance zealots. I am not one of them. Santos Concentree is as rose as I like to project. It didn't give me a headache nor was it nauseating; for several moments, I worried about both. Once the top notes evaporate the typically Azzaro qualities emerge and these are very pleasant. They come about the time one realises one has avoided reacting more theatrically to the Acteur.
This is an entire revision of the first review because I was far too hasty.
06th February, 2012 (last edited: 25th February, 2012)
Lalique pour Homme is an elegant fragrance featuring the best lavender I have experienced. The melange is warm and potent and offers surprisingly impressive projection and longevity. It seems confident and unyielding but never boorishly so. I can imagine this to be a reworking of Caron pour un Homme in which Lalique offers the definitive composition but perhaps that goes to the nature of lavender which recalls its use in other fragrances. The lavender, here, qualifies the other components without itself being qualified thus the rise and fall of notes are like echoes that cascade from the roiling haze of lavender. It's as if these other notes have been chosen to manage the lavender and stop it from becoming cloying and stale. It never does. It shines through the pulsating presence of the basenotes. I cannot smell jasmine - which please me - and the iris and red cedar present themselves together and go on to manage the sweeter notes - the amber and the vanilla. They seem to dominate them and blur the woody notes leaving the impression of a summer garden bordering a woodland. The image is patrician and so is the fragrance.
05th January, 2012 (last edited: 06th January, 2012)
Usually, I enjoy identifying the different components in a fragrance as if discovering threads in a tapestry through mist. But this is so dense and tightly 'woven' that I cannot be sure the 'mist' isn't part of the projection of the fragrance, itself. What's more, I don't care. It's enough that something this potent is swirling about me. My nose seems more alive - more sensitive and attuned than it was. My mood is equally uplifted. This fragrance is in a league of its own. This sets a standard by which supposed powerhouse fragrances might be measured. The quality of its ingredients is unparalleled. My nose is tingling and the front of my forehead is tingling, also. Only essential oils cause me to feel this. I cannot stop smelling my arm where I spritzed a little over two hours ago. It is no less potent over that time and has lost nothing from my nasal vacuuming and I remain utterly distracted. This is sublime - a kind of oriental and gourmand concentration with concentrated herbal astringents and a little green element that create a sillage that warrants its own distinct classification.
Azzaro pour Homme Elixir is an alternative for those who like masculine rose notes. Well, for me, anyway because those rose notes, tones and hues are invariably too sweet for me and too dense but there is nothing dense about this fragrance. This is a delightful melange of gourmand and restrained oriental elements that presents as a rather sweet but never cloying lavender and geranium accord before metamorphosing into something akin to a confectionery musk. This stage lasts for around 20 minutes on my skin before the journey rounds out in entirely satisfying sweet gourmand notes that are defined by the tonka bean and restrained accordingly. The vanilla seems implied as if hinted at. This is the most satisfying use of vanilla I have experienced; generally, I find vanilla overwhelmingly, nauseatingly sweet. Azzaro conains it, defines it and bends it to its urbane and chic will. The effect over all is wonderful. It is reminiscent of M7 by YSL but it is more mannered, less strident and never even vaguely like a cough syrup. Rather, it is a demure and confident fragrance. It is nothing like Azzaro pour homme except that both fragrances are timeless and deserving of acclaim. It reminds me of Jacomo de Jacomo Rouge.
03rd January, 2012 (last edited: 07th February, 2012)
Remember smelling the spicy pot-pourri and thinking you could almost eat that or infuse it with boiling water and make chai. Once you've quenched your thirst, why not moth proof your world with this spicy treat? It starts off with a boisterous homage to bay rum- well, boisterous but safe. It doesn't assume a you-asked-for-it attitude but the suspicion that one might spritz a room, a linen press, a spouse, each of the wardrobes and the interior of the home and improve one's quality of life immensely begins to dawn.The cloves are restrained and the nutmeg is even more contingent upon the will of the sandalwood. This is the only note that doesn't appeal to me but I won't complain since it dominates the musk and keeps it from becoming too saccharine. When I think of powerhouse fragrances, I think of a series of cascading elements that rise to prominence and dwarf what went before, and then develop an altogether new quality through creating a kind of aesthetic story telling, or a journey of sorts in which fragrance dictates terms to the mind, the memory and the emotions. This is no powerhouse. It is a composition of well balanced elements that serve to create a unified and harmonious liquid pot-pourri for you to use to terrify the pets but improve their waft and your own altogether.
Entirely misnamed... This doesn't connote 'dirty' tones or notes. Rather than be burdened by civet or animalic elements or discordant, shrill components like heavy handed clove or astringents, it is civilized and modest. There is an element of smokiness which I enjoy but it is not a threatening or defiant or divisive statement. It assists the development of the woody heartland of the fragrance which reinforces the base and wears close to the skin. Being a thrill-seeker, I wanted all the animalic bravado I could find. I love civet. I adore arid fragrances and love the pulsating strength of powerhouse fragrances but Dirty English is a well educated and courteous visit to refinement that awaits in an enveloping leather armchair. It is self confident and resolute without needing to strut or fret. Look closely and you will realise it doesn't smoke or drink cognac because it's too sensible. It is too busy being successful and enjoying the sounds that various types of leather make. It's actually a fragrance about coming of age. Accordingly, it enables us to measure the failings of so many contemporary offerings.
All too soon for my liking, Yatagan reduces to a stylistic caprice in which Artemisia Absinthium, masquerading as masculinity, supported by a measured pine dominated by patchouli and brooding elements luscious with resinous attitude fades leaving only a dusty memory of a fragrance as elegant as 'earthy' and 'herbaceous' can be. Perhaps, it is the quality of its ingredients which make its arid depth and beauty so short-lived. I love it and find over-use compulsive because I crave the initial impact.
16th June, 2011 (last edited: 20th June, 2011)
This begins pleasantly enough and then quickly degenerates into a cloying experience. Essentially, Le Male is a synthetic, melange fragrance with a sweetness that lingers like an unwanted visitor and, ultimately this defines one's experience just shy of a headache, at least. Considered by some to be a fine starting point for young men discovering fragrance, it's a costly introduction especially when one considers the availability of several inexpensive and similar and better creations - indeed, almost anything would do. Used discretely, it mightn't induce a migraine but I would be very cautious by which I mean one quick spray on the socks one is about to wear - obviously, before putting them on - and leave it at that. On second thoughts, don't - put on some other socks. It's not vile, it's just sickly sweet, tediously linear and unsophisticated - essentially, unmemorable
The slight galbanum of the opening blends seamlessly with the bergamot initially to create a very pleasant composition until, suddenly the rose and the carnation and the vanilla erupt and cascade dominating what is to prove a protracted almost indefatigable longevity the accumulative effect of which is nausea and a headache. The dry down is equally cloying with waves of nausea giving way to simple regret but perhaps that is the moss note which dilutes the syrupy lingering tones though not nearly enough. It reminded me of Habit Rouge where a similar vanilla sweetness rises up from the middle and dominates the development entirely
Imagine spending a day in the large and lovely garden trudging through dewy grass past wild citrus groves that have been left to their coiling, barbed fate as large dark glossy leaves having collected droplets of morning sunlight shimmer gently. Notice how your mood is elevated by the clean, clear green miasma surrounding you as you seem carefree and refreshed? Here and there flowers emerge from neglected garden beds where strident succulent plants cascade over old wood and stone. Their waft introduces a different sense of time as you realise it's later than you thought as the sun casts longer shadows. You make for home through the wooded areas where familiar warm and scented fragrances dance upon the dappled light and shadow. The cuffs of your trousers still carry the smell of the morning's moist grass but it is more mellow now as they've dried smelling of the garden with something spicy lingering. In all, a fine fragrance to create a particularly fresh and light mood.
Thoroughly enjoyable fragrance. It makes me wonder whether some fragrances are either created for, or by smokers; devised to mask the odious pungency of cigarette smoke.
This is a largely linear fragrance owing to what I presume is the synthetic nature of the cedar. This is not headache inducing despite the seemingly synthetic tones. It begins with a well modulated cedar which might be an amalgam of synthetic ginger, bergamot, lavender and Artemesia. The melange asserts itself as warming notes emerge from the heart but these are subtle and indistinct. I imagine cinnamon and a different tone of cedar which might be a mild patchouli rising from the base. The dry down is the most comforting experience of the fragrance although the 'twang' which I guess is the eponymous 'silver' seems to linger. It might be the lavender. Fortunately, it isn't metallic but it is ever so slightly discordant but not to the extent that I don't enjoy the fragrance.
06th January, 2011 (last edited: 06th April, 2012)
My signature fragrance since 1974. Heady, intoxicating, sophisticated yet atavistic. The composition defines mastery and is one of the great creations. I have not tried the reformulation because I was uneasy about what I'd discover. I cannot understand the desire to reformulate this at all much less the need.
Just as the bottle design presents a compartmentalised view of the fragrance, each element seems to present itself clearly without being subdued by a melange of tones and it is without peer. Or, perhaps, the golden lines that cross the bottle vertically and horizontally reflect something like the bars of a cage that contains a beast of a fragrance whose intoxicating power requires containment and limitation? Unleashed, this fragrance is magnificent and sophisticated and raw and powerful and elegant and uncompromising. This is one of the greatest creations - a shooting star that burned brightly but not nearly long enough. Please Jean Desprez bring it back.
Cuba Gold for those who prefer spending far more money on a fragrance. Whilst Cuba Gold offers great value for the price, Vera Wang for Men does not. It is quite a linear experience which risks flat-lining through its caramel or amber sweetness. The colour of the product and this caramel tone reminds me of developing different honeys through feeding bees different kinds of pollen. Fortunately, this caramel element is held in check by the tobacco note. Quite a pleasant note, it is supported by a little sandalwood and the leather. Altogether, the fragrance is restrained and somewhat pedestrian because it needs something to elevate it or ground it more vigorously and anything might have done - even some of the elements it claims which we must take on good faith. Longevity is not a problem except that the dry down does not develop anything more.
Astonishingly good, beautiful elements merged through a white spirit and made more subtle for it, I love Casran. As the fragrance warms with wear, different components emerge. I find a 'praline' which I expect is the melding of amber, vanilla and sandalwood. The chocolate, prune, and the aromatics serve to balance the gourmand components and not allow the fragrance to sweeten or cloy; despite which, it is sweet but mannered. No single component dominates although they seem to 'ripple' throughout the development and dry-down. This is like a colourless gemstone with facets that catch the light suddenly; it is transparent and magical. The more restrained the application, the more delightful the journey. Perhaps, the best way to enjoy this journey is to apply a tiny amount to the nape of the neck of one's partner.
07th August, 2010 (last edited: 19th December, 2011)
Remy Latour's Cigar eloped with Zino by Davidoff. They disguised themselves at first with aniseed, lavender and what seems like a restrained amber but a hint of pepper was their undoing. Suddenly, the tobacco tones presented themselves disguised as patchouli and woodland spice and their earlier charade ended with a vigour that surprised everyone and then kept distracting them for hours and hours and they lived happily ever after. If you cannot afford Zino, Connect Him...
Oh-my-mint, fresh-mint, dirty-mint, cloying-mint... it's a mint-fest all round, all over and for all too long. The growing mint aversion inspires a sponge bath or a moist toilette and the application of something oriental or something else - anything without mint - until, suddenly, one becomes aware of a rising jasmine and just the whisper of rose. Perhaps there is some cedar in the background holding these notes together and not allowing them to create a sweet and sour-mint melange with green tea vase water that is still fresh but will become awful tomorrow. There is much sophistication in this composition. It is measured and perhaps as good as mint can be. I prefer mint crushed under foot with its aromas rising fresh and pure. I consider this an experiment or a perfumery assignment. This is probably as good as mint can be but one cannot escape the thought that one might eat mint sweets and achieve a more pleasant minty waft.
Try to ignore the overly sweet lemon pudding beginning if you can - it tends to linger as the gentle musk rises in counterpoint to it and then becomes the dominant note as a white pepper presents itself. There is the hint of aquatic notes but these serve to bolster the pepper until one realises that it was a journey perhaps ill advised unless one wishes to smell like one's nana's kitchen, with its lemon curd, flowers ready to be trimmed and placed in a vase and nana herself somewhere in the background laced with talc.
Antaeus is one of those alluring fragrances that requires you to get a room for the sake of propriety. It's unseemly to be caught sniffing one's own wrist with such abandonment but those who understand that compulsion will welcome every opportunity to experience exactly that kind of heady distraction. It is less strident than I recall but I apply less, and less stridently; perhaps, we've both matured.
14th June, 2010 (last edited: 05th July, 2010)
Heady, sexy fragrance offering quite a journey as the fragrance warms on the skin finally enveloping its wearer in a miasma that is overwhelmingly sensual. The aquatic elements in the male version are muted, here and the vanilla is reined in. The cedar and sandalwood merge with the rose to create a very beautiful accord. Those who like Hugo Boss's 'Deep Red' are likely to like this, too. I love it.
A strident fragrance that might have done well in the 1930's when people showered and bathed less frequently than now, or when they were exposed to acrid and rank smelling French cigarette smoke. But for non smokers who shower daily, this excessively potent and almost nauseatingly powdery fragrance is anachronistic.
04th May, 2010 (last edited: 07th August, 2010)
Almost hypnotic and almost cloying, almost overwhelming and almost too sweet, this fragrance is sudden and wanton and reminiscent of smelling something in flower - something breath-taking and beautiful one hot, summer's night. And whilst it's almost too matter-of-fact in its linearity, the shades and tones that rise and fall as it fades are quite lovely - spice and wood and that almost pungently sweet raspberry cordial. I think it best worn on one's stomach to allow its presence to inveigle itself as a kind of miasma wafting about one. This fragrance is best applied very, very frugally. It is one of those that people will crane forward to enjoy but, recoil from with equal vigour when over used.
31st January, 2010 (last edited: 25th February, 2010)