Fragrance Reviews by vadim

My two cents' worth of dissent… As a lover of vintage chypres, I earnestly tried to develop a fully-fledged affair with Derby (both original and reformulated), but failed miserably. To my unsophisticated nose with a predisposition to full-bodied, manly, sensual and user-friendly chypres, Derby is rather thin and effeminate while also uninvitingly detached and indifferent to the wearer and others at best or smug at worst (given the name, it could easily make a great piece of tongue-in-cheek social commentary). I find the moss, leather and vetiver promised in the basenotes just barely perceptible, with Guerlain's signature vaguely floral / distantly sweet accord proudly floating above and muffling all other notes there are until the very end. Elegant and refined, no doubt, but hardly an outstanding men's chypre by my standards.

Success belongs to the same family of heavy-duty colognes as, say, Boss No. 1 or Aramis but makes both look like bell-boys by comparison. It just exudes authority – and too much of it for my liking. You'll find all the usual suspects here, including tobacco, patchouli, vetiver, leather, amber and musk plus a generous helping of honey and hard liquor, all somewhat overdone to my nose. Picture a post-meeting boardroom some place in Houston full of kempt unsmiling men in their sixties smoking cigars and sipping cognac (a nod to Lord Molyneux) and you'll get the idea. You will probably like Success if you're one of those.

A truly boring sporty-fresh-aquatic-ozonic number. Save your money and get something from Boss or any other mid-market maker if you're into this kind of scents.

Lanvin for Men is a warm but reserved green/woodsy scent with a soapy bergamot/lavender (to my nose) opening that lingers throughout the progression. Some floral and animalistic notes pop in and out at a later phase, but overall the scent remains quite static, detached and one-dimensional, bringing to mind a top-notch grooming product or skin-care lotion or perhaps some premium household liquid. Definitely classy but very, very abstract.
Listed notes:
Bergamot, lemon, petitgrain, sage,clary sage; Carnation, jasmine, rose, origanum; Vetiver, civet, labdanum, leather

No surprises here – Lanvin Vetyver is the fuzzy, boozey, heavy and aromatic Lanvin Monsieur, only a bit (but just a bit) more dynamic and less calm owing to a vetiver note that starts off cheerfully but soon takes a somewhat (but only somewhat) darker, deeper turn, vaguely reminiscent of the vintage Guerlain Vetiver. Alas, little happens besides that as the scent progresses, or rather, hangs there like a thick cloud.

I'm not sure how precise this information is, but web sources list the following notes:
Top: bergamot, lemon, fruity
Heart: carnation, sandal, geranium, cinnamon, jasmine
Base: vanilla, musk, civet, tonka, leather
What I get though is just one solid wall of boozey green on a thick buttery base - lush and aromatic, but to the point of overbearing. It's not a terrible scent, just very linear and with little, if any, development. Interesting as a curio but probably not worth spending the time and money to hunt it down. Hard to believe it made it to 1992.

I love all things earthy, dank and bitter, and this was exactly why I bought Monsieur. However, it turned out to be primarily a citrus scent, albeit with an old-school twist and a moderately bitter, burnt-sugar drydown, not unlike Goutal's own Sables. To add insult to injury, Monsieur is short-lived and somewhat shallow overall. That said, it's not a bad everday scent, just don't expect another Eau de Fier or Vetiver.

Not bad at all as affordable vintage scents go - solid, warm, woodsy, spicy, and with a character of its own - but I'd be hard pressed to prefer this one to some of the other classics from the era. I certainly see the Quorum connection, although Kipling comes across as a bit more refined and less artificial. There's also a sour/bitter note in Kipling that I find slightly irritating. And where's the spice and adventure suggested by the name?

Great price, packaging and longevity aside, Quorum is an unapologetically nasty, brutal, artificial, obnoxious, ill-mannered, no-nonsense take-no-prisoners macho brew - I can almost visualize it playing pool in some seedy bar with chums One Man Show and Jean Couturier 12 – but it is also quite complex and can be fun, although in a very limited range of situations. I like having a decant around for a spritz now and then just for the heck of it, but I doubt I'll ever wear it in good society. Wonder if it'll work better without that cumin note...

A rich floral chypre from the eighties with all the usual suspects, including lavender, bergamot, geranium, musk, leather, patchouli and vetiver among others, but exquisitely blended. Aldehydes and anis (besides artful blending) make Pour Lui a lighter, subtler and less in-your-face brew compared to many of its contemporaries and add an abstract, calm and pensive quality to it that somehow reminds me of Ho Hang Club. If you've been curious about 1980s powerhouses but put off by the heaviness and bluntness of some of them, Pour Lui could be a good introduction.

Cannot but agree - there is a sense of mystery about this scent, floating aloofly above its subdued darkish base spruced up by warm spice and a bitter honey note.

Very soapy, very 'erbal, unashamedly full-bodied, beatifully mixed and just downright pleasant. Add excellent longevity, Nina Ricci quality and the unique celery note that run throughout the progression - and you get a must-have in the vintage department.

Some would definitely find it a bit straightforward and macho, but for me Para Hombre is manly, spicy, zesty and fresh, with just the right dose of animalistic notes. Mediterranean joie de vivre in a bottle.

An old-school spicy floral chypre mixing notes of basil, lavender, bergamot, rosemary, patchouli, iris, jasmine, geranium, vanilla, tonka, musk, leather, benzoin and amber. Too musty, motley, floral and characterless to be relevant today.

A warm aromatic woody chypre with bergamot, geranium, nutmeg, jasmine, musk, tonka, vetiver, leather and a host of other notes, pleasant overall but too soft in nature, heady in presentation, fuzzy in its mix of notes, and generally thick and one-dimensional for its own good. Very eightees and decent enough, but not one of the best from that era.

An interesting scent definitely worth a try, but with several letdowns: a bit too synthetic (my first impression was the nail polish remover my mother used when I was a kid); leaning on the feminine side; the gasoline/leather combo, the best part of this scent, vanishes in a matter of minutes; the tyre number has been done before, and better IMO (suffice to mention Tubereuse Criminelle), and the leather invokes vynil car seat sofas rather than genuine well-worn car leather.

An interesting and singular brew, The Baron is a scent that walks by itself. A complex aromatic fougere, I guess, with some floral, synthetic and chypre notes in the mix, but without the warmth you'd expect from a rich fougere, and very elusive and detached at that, as if it wants to keep a distance from us commoners. It reminds me most of all of those coldish, reserved Japanese domestic-market colognes that you can't quite put your finger on. Unfortunately, whatever promise there is in the beginning dries up on the drydown, a muffled semi-sweet moldy-fruit affair with an artificial tang.

Possibly one of the best herbal colognes for everyday wear if you like them laid-back and inconspicuous. Captain won't turn heads but is a real smoothie. The only letdown is dismal longevity.

The most un-shiseido Shiseido that I've tried, MG 5 Lavender is a rather straight-forward, zesty and somewhat pungent aromatic-herbal-spicy-fresh number with lavender, bergamot, rosemary, geranium and nutmeg among other ingredients, that could be a long-lost Bogart or a not-so-distant relative of Ho Hang or any other of the dozens of those upbeat brisk male scents of the era. To me, the standout note is the heady dusty-dry spice of a dried flower shop. Certainly not bad as 40-year old scents go, but there are some that have aged better. For serious vintage collectors or Shiseido buffs only.

Typical period fare - a rich aromatic fougere with a generous handful of ingredients and chypre undertones, somewhat similar to Lanvin Monsieur, but simpler in construction and a bit too stuffy and conventional to deserve a place in the Fragrance Hall of Fame.

With all due respect and despite my penchant for vintage scents, I find this one to be terribly dated - suffocatinly heavy, linear and fusty. The dominant woody note is that of a musty chest drawer in an abandoned house. Although born in the heyday of flower power, this Monsieur would make a perfect signature frag for a film noir character: a ten-cent lawyer or a down-and-out private eye in a scuzzy hat swishing Jack Daniels in a dingy uptown dark-paneled office that knew better times. Ugh

A nice but somewhat timid woodsy scent that doesn't quite live up to the promise of the stated notes. If it's a walk in the woods, then it's a trimmed sunny park rather than a dark forest. If you like Sisley's Eau de Campagne or the lighter Creeds, you'll probably like this one as well. Arboretum exudes the same air of quality and calmness, but is too indistinct, short-lived and unisex for my liking.

A rich and warm citric/aromatic chypre, unhurried and with an unmistakable vintage feel that's a bit past its prime, along the lines of Lanvin Monsieur. Nice, but lacks the extra twist to raise it above some of its more adventurous contemporaries.

Just barely street-legal and definitely not for the office what with the sweat, socks and decay overtones (see reviews below), but what a rewarding home-sniffer! In raw, bold strokes, Jardin du Nil paints the inner workings of an artisanal scentmaker's shop in the countryside: a mortar with some dark paste in it left unattended on a rough wooden table under a scorching sun, strewn petals, slowly decomposing fruits, humus soil, some earthy vetiver, a bit of iris root perhaps, phials with exotic essential oils… Evocative, bold and different, but one star off for nearly total unwearability.

A rich aromatic with the quality you'd expect from Laporte but without the sparkle to match some of the other MPG creations. In addition, to my nose, Garrigue has the most truthful sweat note I've encountered in fragrances. It's fresh summer sweat you'd get on a beach or picking fruit in the sun, but sweat nonetheless. Wonder if it's a signature house note (I've seen it lurking in a couple of other MPGs) or just my skin chemistry. Try before you buy.

One of the better leather chypres out there. A calm and balanced scent that's not fussy, too macho or overly sweet, with just the right doses of spice, warmth and a hard edge. The leather in Or Black has a slightly chemical feel to it which sometimes brings to mind Cuir Ottoman or Santa Maria Novella's Nostalgia, but that doesn't spoil it a bit.

Cloves and oranges indeed, sitting on a spicy-woody base for some depth and structure. Mulled wine is what immediately springs to mind, a new reading of the bay rum theme perhaps. Like most of the MPG creations, and in welcome contrast to many other niche offerings, Secret Melange is fleshy and full-bodied and has a natural feel to it. While too foody-spicy-christmasy to qualify as street-legal in my book, it is pleasantly rewarding as a home-worn or ambiance scent. Definitely worth a try and probably a good companion to Parfum d'Habit on your scarf or coat lining.

Fresh, sweet, spicy and generic to the extreme, yet another addition to the host of those non-committal feel-good scents targeting the younger crowd that fill the shelves these days. The marketing people are doing their job – this is exactly the kind of stuff my 18 year old son douses himself with by the bucket. While the original Zegna doesn't seem to be held in high regard among connoisseurs for being linear, one-dimensional and too safe, it at least offered a certain quality of craftsmanship and an air of reserved dignity that are entirely missing from Intenso, which is a step down from even the rather insipid Essenza. To add insult to injury, Intenso is indeed quite strong. Turbo stuff, dude...

A bosom buddy of Trussardi Uomo, Van Cleef & Arpels PH et al. Not as educated and refined as either of them and perhaps just a tad commonplace(among its 1980's peers) and a bit too clovey for some, but still a good feller - and a steal at the price.

A fine leather-based number, complex enough, but clean and uncluttered. In a blind test, I would think this was some long-lost Knize, a depowderized variation on Ten and Sec perhaps. The only CSP worthy of having a full bottle in my book.

Nothing special but not as bad as I thought it would be, given the fancy name. Fresh, spicy, zesty, sporty and very American, with an obvious nod to Ralph Lauren et al. A safe feel-good scent for the young and dynamic.

An interesting curio from a bygone era that somehow managed to survive. As one of the first widely (more or less) available Western fragrance products to pierce the Iron Curtain, OMS had been a bit of a cult and a status symbol in Russia in the years of primary capital accumulation, worn by a motley crowd of students, factory directors, the fledgling office plankton, petty entrepreneurs and hard-eyed boys with baseball bats practicing the fine art of bad debt collection. Walking down the streets of Moscow or riding the subway in those days, you'd think OMS was the official smell endorsed by the City of Moscow. Since then, its image has reverted to that of a dated budget smell for middle-aged nerds. But I digress. Its nostalgic value aside, OMS is a real viper of a scent, on par with Puig's Quorum in terms of brutal macho force (if not as complex) and equally difficult to wear if you are socially conscious. Whatever the intended notes (and there are quite a few) and progression, what I mostly get is a solid wall of something dry, leathery, harsh and bitter, a smell that has always reminded me of leafing through dusty pages in a second-hand book shop - not a bad connotation in my book, as a matter of fact. I keep a bottle at home for that note alone, but never venture outside wearing this beast.

The initial smoky tea note is quite nice, bearing some resemblance to CdG's Leaves-Tea and Annick Goutal's Fier, but in a matter of minutes it settles into a sweet, powdery and rather unimaginative drydown (just like the other two men's offerings by Brosseau, at least on my skin). Overall, too timid and generic.

A flimsy woodsy/spicy, slightly powdery concoction with the ubiquitos fresh edge. Sweet, bland and unsure where it wants to go. As generic and mass-market as any of the horde of those ozonic/aquatic scents that fragrance makers have been churning out throughout the last decade. Not much cedar in it, either.

To paraphrase a common Russian saying about one too many fools, this is vanilla riding a vanilla flogging it with a vanilla whip. Or maybe sugar caramelized in sugar syrup. Save your money and get yourself a cartload of Movenpick vanilla instead. To add insult to injury, Pi boasts one of the tackiest bottle I've seen, on par with Amouage.

This Gouverneur seems to be sitting on two chairs. There's a core - a formalish old-shool male cologne, and a shell - CSP's signature sweet tropical spice syrup, and the twain don't exactly meet. Not a bad scent altogether, but there is something synthetic and unfinished about it.

To my nose, BdI does a pretty good job evoking a 1960s barbershop in a sunlit and tranquil banana republic (if there ever was such a thing). A rather well-made and balanced scent, but too sweet and one-dimensional. I prefer my islands less sunny and with a bit more drama and intrigue (think Graham Greene). And, as barbershop scents go, Rive Gauche is a much better option anyway.

A nasty macho along the lines of Quorum and One Man Show with the same unmistakable drugstore-scent air and with a strong midnite fresh note added. A bomb for sure, but a dirty, poor-man's one.

A fresh fougere with a bit of spice that doesn't really live up to the nifty packaging. Boasting a much more invigorating, if perhaps too old-school for some, Homme de Gres on the roster, Gres is apparently trying to capture a younger crowd with Cabaret. A child of compromise, Cabaret is an okay modern office/casual scent, but is too meek and undistinguishable to be anything more than passable.

Iodine, spices and musk. Brother of Montale's Sandflowers, cousin of Profvmvm's Aqua di Sale and relative of some of L'Artisan's creations. Equally thin and pointless, and more feminine than unisex.

This could well be THE definition of cloying. Lots of notes floating in there, but all covered by an inch of sugar powder. Great lasting power, which makes it an especially excruciating experience.

A sweet 'n heavy Oriental number that breaks absolutely no new ground, even within the MPG's own line of scents. I don't get any aoud here (at least, none of the heady Montale type), but there's lots of amber and vanilla plus some spices and maybe a dash of sandalwood. Been there, done that...

A soapy, clean and well-behaved citrus/lavender, agreeable and unmistakably British, but like 4711 or Acqua di Parma, too good-old-barbershop-cologne-y to be thrilling. Safe office/everyday wear.

In theory, a mint note should be a welcome addition to the sweet, dense and linear Pasha, but in reality it seems to make the sweetness even more prominent, while also muffling in the process the aromatic green explosion of the original.

To my nose, this is just a toned-down version of Duel, with some minor note tampering. Short on longevity and spices, if any. Another fine, but not essential, variation on Goutal's signature tea and citrus themes.

Thin, artificial and downright boring, but summery and beach-y indeed. Good if you're a teenager in California, I s'ppose.

A recycled Bulgari PH, without the *clean and classy* part of the original and with an extra dash of spice. Merely a passable mid-market scent.

A rather un-limey take on the lime theme, this one could easily pass for a Contitental niche scent. A brisk but faint lime in the opening is all too quickly replaced by a Comme des Garcons-ish thin and dry base. If you are looking for limes proper or for something clean, fresh, manly and British, look elsewhere.

A nice but rather generic aromatic fougere with a pronounced cardamom note. Inferior IMO to Brooksfield's much more lively B. Green.

I'm no horticulturist, so I'm not sure about what plant exactly Ichnusa reminds me of, but it's a very truthful and exceptionally vivid rendition of it. Honeysuckle? Elder? Profvmvm list myrtle & fig tree, but there weren't any where I was born. Anyway, Inchusa transported me 30 years back to those shrubs in the park by the bay where I would hide from the tagger. Kudos for a glimpse of temps perdu, but smelling like a blooming shrub is not exactly my notion of an interesting and wearable men's scent. Too sweet, flowery and feminine.

Lemon candy progressing into a stuffy boudoir.

Sweet, powdery and totally boring. As mass-market as you can get.

Opens with a fleeting promise of fine blending and delicate notes, but is actually a sweet, superficial, sappy, effeminate and dated scent. Avoid.

As good as the original juice. As for the differences, the very name suggests it's supposed to be a nobler and more complex version of the "ordinary" stuff. I don't find Reserva any stronger than the regular Havana - just a bit clearer, sharper and less husky. It seems to have a slightly different opening, with notes slowly blending together rather than leaping forward in one thick cloud of smoke as in Havana. In about 30 minutes though, you'd be hard pressed to tell the difference.

A lush old school musk/lavender/patchouli scent. Solid and cozy, but too sweet and somewhat dated.

A rather medicinal scent that smells like a mix of some pungent ointment (must be mint) and a vintage no-nonsense men's cologne. Not unpleasant, but I don't really see what would be an appropriate occasion to wear this. It's not exactly a formal scent, but then you won't call it casual either. Also, don't be misled by the name - there's no moss, sparkling cold air or vast empty expanses of the tundra.

An agreeable soapy floral period scent that I find similar in some of the notes and overall attitude to Paco Rabanne PH. The major letdown is a treacly blossoming-lilac-sweet note.

Noble, complex and definitely masculine, but too formal and detached to be really exciting. More suitable for boardroom meetings than everyday wear. On my skin, smells like a more sophisticated and rounded sibling of Elite by Floris.

A rather trite and unnecessarily powdery exercise in citrus.

A complex, lush and spicy floral/oriental mix with some woody, citrus and patchouli notes. Not utterly stunning and maybe just a tad dated, but rich, well balanced, and intriguing and comfortable at the same time. There are some similarities to the venerable Patou PH, Ho Hang and Ungaro I, and perhaps even Knize in terms of approach to composition and development. Vastly superior to most of the modern-day syrupy concoctions by Molinard.

Not that Loewe is my house of choice, but I've always regarded it as above mass-market. Unfortunately, Solo is pretty lame even by mass-market standards. It's just one of those smells-nice/safe-for-office scents (think Cassini, Dupont etc.) that fragrance makers have been churning out in droves over the last decade. If you are expecting another Esencia or even Para Hombre, stay away.

An invigorating musky but somehow fresh scent with Knize's signature impeccable quality. Perhaps the least interesting of Knize scents, but very good nonetheless. The closest comparison would be Helmut Lang for Men, but less sweet and warm, and dryer and clearer. I may be giving in to the magic of marketing trickery what with the name of this one, but references to dry champagne dont' seem inappropriate.

This one is undecided whether it wants to be a Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier or a L’Artisan/Comme des Garcons. It starts off with a raw, bold, in your-face vetiver blast not unlike Route de Vetiver and originally appears to go even further. Where RdV offers a freshly-dug vetiver root, LV is a root that’s still sitting in wet pungent earth. But very soon the vetiver note changes into a bitter burnt-paper-and-timber smell of an extinguished house fire very reminiscent of L’Artisan. Bold and interesting, but the drydown is a real spoiler.

The opening does make you think of hot shimmering air and sand but as it progresses what I maily get is the signature dry-paper notes of L’Artisan. A complex and interesting “clean” scent, but getting dangerously close in my opinion to the fakeness of L’Artisan.

A really evocative one. I get more campfire than leather, and there's also woods and maybe some fields, and lots of other little things that keep coming and going. My only problem with this one is that on the drydown it loses most of its interesting original notes and becomes just another of those nice inoffensive sweetish niche scents, in the vein of L'Artisan or Miller Harris.

Just cloying. Period.

Rugged leather soaked in night dew with a signature dash of oud. Bold and heady, this one is heavy on leather (genuine leather in contrast to many other scents deceptively marketed as leather-based) and easy on sugar. The smell of new hiking boots after a walk through a wet field mixed with some floor wax and smoke from the fireplace hall. Possibly the best Montale offering so far. Sits next to CdG's Tea and Route de Vetiver in my book.

Aunt Jemima's Maple Syrup.
Sweet, with some floral notes lurking in the background. Utterly boring.

A dispirited extra-sugar take on the Body Kouros theme. Pass.

A comfortable and trustworthy vetiver in the beginning that soon turns into a ginger baklava of sorts. One of the better Lutens in my opinion, but too run-of-the-mill to waste money on.

A typical Montale. Great top notes utterly ruined by a cloying drydown. Not a thumbs-down only thanks to the oud note, delicious until the sugar powder comes into play (quite soon into the progression).

Off to a heady start with a sharp and fresh woodsy note, but grinds to a sticky sweet halt in about ten minutes. Could have been a winner if not for the drydown.

Must've been no mean feat to make a lavender scent so stuffy. Pass.

I don't get any cedre or tuberose or spices in this one, just a cloyingly sweet syrup that could perhaps suit a sixtyish lady for a night at the opera. Could never understand all the hype about Serge Lutens. The unisex marketing is a blatant misrepresentation, all ten or so Lutens scents that I tried were positively feminine, if not anile.

A nice blast of spices followed by a drydown that is too sweet, warm and powdery. Fine and safe, but not a revelation.

I tried this three times, and all I can remember is that it's a balanced quality scent. Definitely not enough to stand up to Dior highlights, such as Jules, Fahrenheit or Eau Sauvage.

Good Lord, my ordeal is finally over. No more frenetic hand-scrubbing and no more insults from my girlfriend who's been saying I smell like a peroxide-blonde wife of a Russian nouveau riche wheeler-dealer. With so much hype about L'Artisan here on Basenotes, I felt I absolutely had to test at least some of the highlights. I ended up testing about twenty. Dzing was the last one on my list. Now for the scent Ð thin, papery, sickeningly sweet, girlish, overdone and superficial, just like any other of the twenty I tried. There's a hopeless lack of substance and an unwarranted fussiness about L'Artisan scents that, to my nose, bring them very close to drugstore fragrances. Strictly for the lovers of Miller Harris, Bond No. 9, Demeter and the like. What I haven't told my girlfriend yet is that my next testing list is MolinardÉ

Finally, a niche house with enough balls, pardon my French, to go beyond tepid imitations of natural substances or abstract exercises in the art of fine blending. I may not necessarily like each MPG scent, but they are all raw and live, a no mean feat in today's perfumery. RdV is a delightfully untamed punch of pungent wet grass and earth and the first vetiver to make me doubt my no-vetiver policy.

I have to admit this smells like tea. Oversweetened black tea, and coming from a pot that has been refilled at least twice. If I were to serve anything like this to my tea-junkie girlfriend, it'd be tea for one. Now if I want to smell tea I'll make a fresh pot of strong Yunnan, and if I want to EXUDE the smell of tea I'll reach for my Eau du Fier, CdG Leaves-Tea or Bvlgari. And, there's no Lapsang Souchong in this, it's not really unisex, and you never put sugar in good tea.

X has an exquisite cool-breeze-on-a-warm-day-by-the-seaside feel to it that I find hard to resist, but ultimately its lordly restraint and lack of intrigue spoil the show for me. And yes, it does exude massive amounts of refined dignity and class. In fact, so much class and calm self-assurance as to make X overqualified for my wishlist. I'll get back to it as soon as I'm riding a Rolls Royce with a chauffer or sailing a Riva Athena. In the meantime, I'll substitute with Erolfa or Garrigue.

Balenciaga's crown jewel that shares quite a few notes with Ho Hang and Ho Hang Club but easily outshines both. Put it on your shelf between Jules and Renta Pour Lui, and you won't be disappointed.

Knize Ten/Etro Gomma on acid in a wild tango (or pogo if you like) with Commes des Garcons at an underground party in an abandoned garage. If you are an adventurous type, this one's for you. Rubber and rose somehow make a perfect match, with the tuberose note actually cleaner, sharper and truer in my opinion than in most other tuberose scents my GF has worn (Caron, Malle and Piguet) except maybe Creed's Indiana, which is equally impressive in its own right but not as intriguing. The only Lutens I've been tempted to wear.

Pine refined beyond recognition. Not a bad scent and certainly classy, but the pine note is so gentrified and muffled by embellishments that it comes across as somewhat forced and artificial. There's that signature luscious, almost sickly sweet, note in Epicea (is it ambergris?) that for me ruins many of the otherwise decent Creed creations. That said, still a better choice than the prissy Blenheim Bouquet.

An exceptionally harmonious, refined and sensual blend of citrus, spices and wood that would suit equally well a romantic youth, a pleasure seeker and a confident mature man. There are quite a few other offerings in the same olfactory category but none that would match the subtle silky finesse of Cacharel.

A sparkling coniferous green with Knize's signature zest and style.

A pillar of the male fragrance society. A bit imperious and formal but always reliable and dignified. The smell of old money. Can't but agree with the "classy elegance" definition.

A foot soldier in the 1980's power scent offensive that wasn't brash or bold enough to make it big with the other boys. A less sophisticated and suave cousin of the elder Van Cleef and Leonard, comfortable and balanced, but a bit too warm and sweet for my liking, getting dangerously close to Jimmy'z by Regine's at some points of the progression.

An agreeable but mundane scent, on the heavy/sweet side. The only inspiring thing about it is the fancy-shaped dark green bottle.

A rather nice chypre but nothing to write home about. One of those inoffensive Japanese colognes (Eroica, Valcan, Testardo and half a dozen Shiseido's) with mediocre lasting power that you can't either love or hate.

A bit of a misnomer. If this is New York, then the Eagles are raw delta blues. This one doesn't evoke any New York images in me, except maybe 5th Avenue or downtown slackers in cashmere turtlenecks. A fleeting citrus note quickly taken over by cloying powder. Cacharel, in my opinion, is a much better choice if you want something warm, sweet and seductive.

Very average to my nose - too much soap and feigned nobleness. Seems pine is as difficult to capture in a scent as it is to achieve a raspberry flavor in food that wouldn't taste fake and plasticky. I've tried a lot of scents in my quest for True Pine and haven't found any yet that I would like whole-heartedly. Selva comes close to both Agua Brava and Pino in that you can tell from the first whiff it's a budget fragrance (not that it's bad in itself, but I don't think budget works with pine). There are Blenheim and Creed's Epicea on the other end, but I find both too pretentious and sweet. Polo and Bowling Green are solid scents in their own right, but neither one is exactly pine. The only one I did like was Knize Forest, but it also has a lot more going on in there than just pine. In short, if what you want is pine, go for essential oils.

Can't but wonder how one can mix so many ingredients into something so non-descript. Kinda fresh, kinda sweet, kinda spicy. Plain boring.

A word of warning for mad-eyed vintage fragrance hounds. I bought this on eBay, after some effort and at a price. Completely original, part of a beautifully packaged gift set (that also included Aphrodisia and Act IV), dating back to early seventies by the looks of it. I can't give this one a definitive thumbs-down because of old age (of the fragrance), but the Woodhue I had (and the other two) exuded that musty-dusty, old-lady-boudoir smell typical of many vintage mid-market fragrances, kind of the same note that you can faintly discern (albeit in a much more refined form) in Derby or Ho Hang.

Not just green - acid green. Nearly as vicious in its initial harsh dry thwack as the suffocating One Man Show. Syrupy sweet at the same time. Interesting, but not very wearable, unless you are a college student on a Friday night out.

Exquisite. I also find it similar to the delightful Leonard, but this one, to my nose, has the bonus of a fine lingering fresh note in the drydown.

If Crest was a toned-down Polo Green, this is Polo Green gentrified. I might be mistaken but I think I detect a faint aquatic/fresh note in it (or is it just the blue bottle?) besides the signature Pol-o-pine. This one could have well made it into the 1980's power scent league. Quite good but, I have to admit, not essential unless you're a completist or really into 1980's.

Whoa! Macho in a tuxedo. No matter how rarely I actually wear this, it always sits on my shelf next to Polo, Trussardi Uomo and Santos.

Truly a poem. I nearly developed a clinical compulsive-sniffing condition when I got this -- but then the postman brought Jules...

I like the bottle, I like the concept (clean mountain-fresh and woodsy scent with a sharp note)and I like the price, but there's a sour note in Kanon that doesn't really agree with me, and the lasting power on my skin is a couple of hours at best. Also, from certain angles, it comes across as a budget and somewhat dated scent. Still, better than many. I personally would prefer this one to Geir Ness. A try-before-you-buy. Then again, buying this without trying won't ruin your budget.

Could easily be the best of the budget clean summer scents out there. No-nonsense cool'n'clean with a slightly metallic edge that beats most of the contemporary ozones, not in the least by not being sweet.

Perfectly correct. Grey Flannel with a somewhat differently mixed floral accord (less violet?). Very agreeable.

Lots of coffee and vanilla (with little else). But definitely not as good as real coffee and vanilla. This one falls into the same category as Demeter and many CdG's, namely non-fragrance scents. Yawn...

Love at first sniff. Warm wet earth, grass sprinkled by a light rain, a wildflower accord and a clean artificial note that all blend together into a refined and meditative scent that somehow manages to be both comfortable and enigmatic. Unlike anything else out there, although some of the notes do remind me of the venerable Tabac Original.

Amusing and quite wearable when used occasionally and reasonably. Interestingly, some of the marketing nonsense seems to be true: I do get the photocopier, but also sweat and stale butter. That's the fun thing about 71 - you can find almost anything there, depending on the mood, time and place. The not so fun thing is that it tends to be obtrusive and pretentious, like many other CdG creations. Best suited for young party-goers.

Quite a mess as perfumes go but then, it's an "anti-perfume". Fun once a month for a change in the way crossword puzzles are fun. Worth having just for the heck of it.

A stronger version of the original with a heavy floral note added. Quite extrovert compared to the inconspicuous fresh-and-clean message of the regular Tabac, so try before you buy.

A fresh/green take on the resplendent Balafre lacking the balanced and comfortable feel of the original. Quite interesting as a shelf scent for a frag buff, but has a rather obtrusive plasticky failed-chemical-experiment note that precludes everyday wear. In that sense (leaving out the actual notes), it has always brought to my mind DKNY Energy.

Spices? Maybe, but it's the ready-made-gluhwein kind of spices, thrown in indiscriminately and wallowing in sugar. Wood? I don't think so. This scent has no direction or progression, or any zest or finesse that save the quite similar Body Kouros from being equally boring.

Polo Green domesticated for safer office/smart casual wear. Good alternative for those too timid to use the original formulation. Doesn't pack the same punch as PG, but quite likeable nonetheless.

Tea, indeed, and then some, rounded off by a faint flowery/dry accord. To my nose, this is pure Lapsang Souchong, although I'm willing to agree it can bring to mind rubber or ski wax. But that only makes it all the more interesting. Eau du Fier definitely stands out. A very fine scent overall. For more burnt rubber, try Series 1 - Leaves - Tea by Comme des Garcons

Quite good overall and literally "smells" of class. Nice fresh top notes, but spoiled somewhat by a too incense-y drydown.

Linear lifeless cloud of saccharine with nothing behind it and a hollow hot-tin-roof aftertaste typical of the new breed of those jetset crowd scents that don't seem to say much more than "I'm trendy, dynamic and expensive". Not worth a fraction of the price tag.

Tobacco without a punch. Low-fat no-sugar nature-identical-flavor slimline ultralight placebo. Why smoke then?

Quite an unusual concoction with strong medicinal overtones. A thick layer of refreshing mint with the signature Lauder/Aramis heady green base lingering timidly in the background. Nice and interesting but hardly suitable for everyday use. A perfect olfactory companion to Pastis.

A comfortable citrusy 70s chypre with a modern feel. Bright and brisk while also warm without being heavy. Something you'd want to pour into palm and splash over the face after shaving on a crisp October morning before going out for your Saturday paper and espresso at the place down the corner. Short on longevity. Nice champagne-styled 120 ml bottle.

I've owned three versions of this, and I find it equally difficult to describe either in much detail. My first Valcan (in a transparent square 120ml splash bottle with yellow liquid) was, to my nose, mostly jasmine and leather. The other Valcan (which looked exactly the same except that the bottle was taller and square in cross-section) is a rather typical Japanese take on the citrus theme, and Valcan Fresh (which comes in a smaller bottle and is green) is just er… a light fresh scent. I also heard there's one more version called "Valcan Variant". All three are generally nice unobtrusive scents that would be more at home in the aftershave category, and share mediocre lasting power. I ended up giving them away to clear space for more adventurous choices.

A clean and smooth, but rather nondescript, chypre with some seemingly complex notes. Too short-lived to figure out what they exactly are, or if they are there in the first place.

Positively overhyped. There is a nice fresh note about this scent, but overall it's too safe, sweet and downright uninteresting.

Not for the faint of heart, and not for everyday use. Strong Lapsang Souchong with no sugar served in a flambéed plastic cup. If in cheeses you prefer Saint Albre to Gouda, then this is your cup of tea. Certainly an acquired taste, as most CdG creations are. If tempted but unsure, go for Annick Goutal's Eau de Fier first and then work your way up to this one, and you won't be disappointed. Good lasting power. Flowerpower-green handy bottle a bonus.

Clean and unassuming, if not very memorable, citrus-based scent. Somewhat saved by the vintage feel and packaging. Not a "thumbs-up", but I would still prefer this to most modern "fresh" scents. Being unobtrusive and not very long-lasting, should be good for office use. Overall, good value for money in terms of quality/volume/price.

Citrus opening, vanilla elsewhere. My layman's nose does not detect much else. The citrus would be OK (although who needs another citrus with what we already have) but for the oppressive vanilla puff. I tried it out as a house scent, and had to air the place to get rid of the stench. Wonder if it'll work in the morning cappuccino. Rumors go this was co-marketed with one of the Japanese motorcycle makers, which gives it an air of a wanton prank, or maybe gross mismarketing. I find it difficult to picture any biker who'd put this on, or any other target audience for that matter, except maybe a primary school queen. Another faux pas by Shiseido, not unlike JS Aupres. Nice bottle, if that's a consolation.