Fragrance Reviews by tvlampboy

Chergui wth more tobacco and slightly lower quality vanilla. For the price difference, get the Chergui and then smoke a pack of cigarettes.

Crisp, almost sharp opening, with the conifer and cucumber dominating for the first three to four minutes after application. From there, though, it softens up into a wonderful, soft white floral. Very demure, very feminine. Is there ginger here? I want to think there is, but it's not listed in the pyramid. Oh, well. Very nice stuff.

Loud and beautiful and affordable all at once -- imagine combining the fruity peach notes of Trésor, the white florals of Sung and the warm, powdery notes of White Shoulders.

Big thumbs up, especially for the embarrassingly modest price.

Acerbic and grating mint bomb that dries down into generic, semi-musky, somewhat woody nothingness.

This churned out bilge is Insense Aquamarine with less charm. (And Insense Aquamarine didn't have much charm to begin with.)

An odd but beautiful Oriental from Guerlain, strong in powdery amber and strong carnation. In many ways, this frag seems to be a fusion of three or four different scents, from Mitsouko (the smokiiness and slight "dirtiness") to Bellodgia (it's the rich clove/carnation thing) to Shalimar (that's the vanilla-heavy Guerlain base I notice) to Royal Scottish Lavender (the powdery/"perfuminess" of it all).

Very dated and yet very cutting edge at the same time. Lovely dry-down that lasts for an easy 12 hours, especially from the Parfum de Toilette formulation.

At the price, though (I pd. $90.00 plus shipping for my bottle of Parfum de Toilette), do try before you buy, as this Guerlain classic is not for everyone.

A very soft, somewhat fruity take on jasmine. Nothing cutting edge here -- for all intents and purposes, this could have been formulated in the Thirties or Forties. While I far prefer Creed's various jasmine frags to this one, I really can't say that there's anything (save the retail price) that's unpleasant about this Armani juice.

For the life of me, though, I've yet to see just how (if at all) this frag qualifies as unisex. I find it very soft (though not weak), fairly traditional and unmistakably feminine.

Claiborne for Men stands out for several reasons: a) it is one of the few bergamot-heavy frags I really like, b) it receives little attention on Basenotes, probably because of its modest price,c) it has superb longevity, d) it has wonderful sillage (strong but not "crazy strong"), e) it always garners me tons of compliments and, finally, f) it's the only offering from Claiborne that doesn't bore me to tears and/or make me want to retch.

A very nice late Eighties/early Nineties cheapie -- snarf it up before it all disappears from the shelves forever.

A bland, inoffensive offering from the "crank 'em out, churn 'em" house of Claiborne.

Fruity opening with green heart and woody dry-down. Good for the "under 20 years and 20 bucks" crowd that (for some odd reason) wants most of its members to smell exactly like everyone else in that age bracket and budget.

Harsh chemicals mixed with grapefruit and masquerading as a cologne. (And just what the hell IS "liquid oxygen scent," anyway?)

In other words, Curve Wave is definitive proof that you can probably market even cat piss so long as you put it in a "cool" bottle and make it affordable for the masses.

Yuk.

A boozy spice concoction that could easily have been Escada pour Homme's gourmand little brother had Claiborne not used such cheap, synthetic ingredients.

It's better than other Claiborne frags (save the original Claiborne for Men, which is still the best hands down), and Spark Seduction is somewhat better even yet. (But that's not saying a lot.)

Never have I so thoroughly agreed with an analysis as I do with SirSlarty's review below.

Spark Seduction just takes the boozy, synthetic amber-iness of the original Spark and slathers it in a fairly pleasant grapefruit.

Too little, too late, though.

Boring, insipid offering from the same house that gave us such greats as Polo, Tuxedo and Lauren.

Strong, synthetic wood notes with loud lavender over an annoying pine note that lasts and lasts and lasts to the point at which it outlives its welcome.

Thumbs down.

Cool Water's cloying, annoying kid brother.
(Oh, and he's wearing a corsage.)

Ick.

A bland, somewhat fruity aquatic, likely marketed toward those twenty-somethings who can't and/or don't yet appreciate Escada for Men.

In short: pleasant, but nothing to write home about. Modest sillage, decent longevity.

My new favorite among Divine's scents -- and I don't normally like fruity frags! (This is what Tresor could have/should have been.)

This is rich, potent, feminine, heady stuff -- definitely not unisex, and most assuredly not shy.

Explosive opening of aldehydes and ylang-ylang that soon dries down into a soft, powdery feminine seductress of a scent. (The longer it lasts -- and that's a long time -- the more powdery it becomes.)

By all rights, this uber-feminine, quintessentially aldehydic, remarkably powdery and terribly French frag should have been put out in the Thirties or Forties, not in the last decade.

Try before you buy.

A kissing cousin to Coco, but with much more patchouli and (of course) the much discussed bitter almond/"amaretto" note.

This is a rich and syrupy Oriental-sliding-into-gourmand that defies easy description. (The best I could come up with is "Samsara meets Angei, almond, cedar and vetiver."

The sillage is huge for the first hour or two, then the frag becomes very "close to the skin." Longevity, alas, could and should be far better. (Especially for the price.) I haven't tried the parfum version -- only the edp.

Unisex? Perhaps, but this stuff goes on smelling very femme. (In short, guys, wait at least twenty minutes to leave the house after spraying this stuff on.)

Amber and powder and incense and fruit and vanilla and civet -- who'd 'a thunk it would all ever work together? But it works. Yessirree, Bob, it works. Even the odd "metallic" note in the opening (and yes, it's there!) fits perfectly in this Creed classic.

Fruity, powdery, amber-y goodness here, with superb longevity and sillage.

This is what Liquid Karl tried to be. (And failed.)

Warm, rich, sweet and gooey gourmand layered over leather and powder (and, of course) oodles of amber.

The benzoin can be a bit sweet for my tastes in the first two hours, but that's just me.

Expensive as hell. Masterfully blended. Still not my favorite amber, no, but a damn good one.
A must-try for every Hermès fan and amber aficionado alike.

Warm, woody and surprisingly crisp vetiver frag. (A vetiver, if you will, for those who don't normally care for vetiver.) Wonderful use of bergamot here to lend just a touch of soapiness. As for the civet that's ostensibly here? I don't get it. Doesn't matter -- I still like it.

Lanvin L'Homme DOES tend to stay very close to the skin, granted, but I really don't understand all the fuss about it supposedly being a "weak" frag with no longevity. On the contrary, I find it to be a smart and sophisticated frag that's always appropriate for office wear.

Inoffensive? Maybe to some, but the cedar used here is -- to my nose, anyway -- sharp and piercing stuff. (Think pencil shavings times ten.) The cedar here is not only annoying -- it also gives me a bad headache.

The rest of the frag is about as "blah" as they come -- just another "fresh" frag clone with a mediocre, musky dry-down.

Headache. Snore. Headache. Snore. Headache. Snore.

So many of the fig-heavy frags out there are bone dry and just a little bit annoying. (PF by L'Artisan is artfully blended; Dune for Men is good stuff; I admire Ferragamo from afar. But, for the most part, none is my style.)

I like Kadota in spite of the fact that I don't normally like fig fragrances. I like Kadota even though I don't normally like sweet scents. I like Kadota even though I don't normally like many "green" frags on men.

Sweet. Green. Figgy. Good. Especially for Storer.

I'm stumped.

EdP review:

I didn't care for the EdT version of Monk; I found it thin and wanting. The EdP version, though, is another matter altogether. Easily Storer's best work yet. (I'm not usually a Storer fan, by the bye.)

This is some serious tobacco territory, so I'll warn ahead of time those of you who don't care for Polo, Tabac Blond, The Dreamer and other tobacco-heavy fragrances. The tobacco stays strong throughout this frag's development, although it does eventually let frankincense come in and do its liturgical duty. Nevertheless, be advised that both the tobacco and the civet here render Monk EdP a somewhat "dirty" scent. I can understand why some compare Monk to the smell of unwashed clothes, as I get much of the same dirty, smoky vibe here as in Mitsouko (only with tobacco here -- and lots of it).

There's also a warm, pleasant gourmand feeling here, but it (thanks to a dry cocoa) is never cloying. The ambrette warms the cocoa up quite a bit as well.

I personally won't spend the dough to buy Monk EdP, no. I might take a bottle in a swap, though.

Thumbs up, but only with all of the info above taken into account beforehand.

Ubueandibeme nailed it on the head -- this stuff is damn near a dead ringer for Sand & Sable. Same powdery gardenia. I don't find it as synthetic as Junie did. No, in fact, I quite like it. (As cheap frags go.) Still, there's nothing special here -- it just is what it is. As with Sand & Sable (and Jungle Gardenia, and White Shoulders), it's just a soft, inoffensive gardenia bomb with lots of powder in the dry-down.

Chanel No. 5? I don't get the connection there at all -- not at all.

No, I find this to be a half-sibling of Paloma Picasso, only with more patchouli.

Loud, wonderful, earthy Eighties power frag. Closely related, too, to its male counterpart frag.

First off, buy or swap for the vintage stuff only. (The new stuff is pure shite.)

What we have here is Shalimar's older, somewhat sluttier sister and Tabu's distant cousin. She is every bit as vanilla-laden as Shalimar, but not half so, eh, demure. She's every bit as sultry as Tabu, but sans the strong herbal/"root beer" notes of Tabu.

This is not a frag for young women, IMHO. No, this is thirty to fifty-something cougar material all the way.

By the bye: without a doubt, Tigress' fun faux fur capped bottle was one of the kitschiest in all of perfume bottle history.

Pleasant, inoffensive vanilla-covered fruit frag. I'd like to say more, but I really can't, as there's not much more here to say.

Expect the sweet vanilla in the opening notes to dry down into a powdery vanilla, with the fruit notes staying sweet throughout the dry-down.

A rich patchouli that (yes, it's true) could easily pass for Red Vetyver's patchouli loving sibling. It's almost as though Red Vetyver had a love child with Fresh's Patchouli Pure. (Don't believe me? Layer them and see what I mean.) I pick up just a hint of rose, too, although Nasomatto won't tell us jacksh-t about the contents.

Awfully expensive stuff, though. As much as I admire both its complexity and its richness and its outstanding longevity, well, I won't likely be buying a bottle of Hindu Grass anytime soon.

Huge thumbs up.

Greens, roses and powderiness all at once, with a long and sensuous dry-down of musk and oakmoss. (At least in the vintage formulation, which is what I possess and treasure.) The rose shows up throughout the frag's development, so don't expect a fleeting rose note.

Tailored and somewhat formal -- at least to my nose. And yes, it's definitely a first cousin (if not an outright sister) to Cristalle. Also very closely related to Gucci No. 3, and more distantly to Flora Danica.

Great for middle-aged gals, as it's not so "young" as Cristalle can be, nor so matronly as #5 can be (if it's applied with a heavy hand).

Very feminine stuff, in any case -- I only spritz it on occasionally as a "comfort frag" when I'm home alone.

Fruity, almost effervescent feminine fruitbasket/flowerbomb.

Reminds me somewhat of Dior's Dune pour Femme -- is it the fig here? I guess so.

Warm, innocent floral heart, with a long and soft sandalwood dry-down. ( Unlike foetidus, I pick up on the sandalwood quite a bit during this stage of the frag's development.)

Morris has deemed it unisex, but I don't get that at all. This is VERY femme stuff.

Wears very, very close to the skin, btw -- you'd think this would be a sillage monster, but (at least on me) it's not.

An unsual mixture of Christmas tree and root beer and patchouli.

Imagine daubing on some old Tabu with its rich root beer notes and its sexy patchouli and then festooning yourself with Christmas tree boughs and cinnamon sticks before heading out for a long walk in a Finnish forest.

Interesting and fairly well blended, but not for everyone.

Not my cup of tea -- not at all.

I had been expecting a dark and mysterious incense fragrance in the vein of Black Cashmere, or perhaps a bright and cheery incense along the lines of Villoresi's Incensi.

What I got instead here was a real clunker -- a very heavy and (IMHO) poorly constructed beast made mostly of labdanum and smoke. I could occasionally smell the ylang ylang, yes, but it came through smelling very like the charred remnants of a florist's shop after a blazing fire had whipped through.

This, I reckon, is what's left in the bottom of the censer after Mass is over. Thumbs down, indeed.

This is the smell of conifer forest floors, all wet and slightly rotted and yet still full of life and earth. It's a strong juice, this, yet it wears (much like Yatagan, its dryer, Southern cousin) surprisingly close to the skin.

Sensual stuff that makes you want to frolic with fauns and pick up pine cones and do naughty things among the branches and the boughs.

Apply only if you dare.

Animalic to the core -- this is raw, deep, dark, and, well . . . odd. I can easily see fans of Knize Ten, Jicky and Mitsouko being drawn to the beautiful juxtaposition of tuberose and (almost distinctly fecal) civet herein.

There's a leathery note here, too, and even somewhat of a rubber "twang" -- both of which should appeal to the Dzing! crowd and the Bulgari Black aficionado. .

Addictive? I can see that, yes, at least for some. Still, at app. $200.00 per bottle, I can think of other frags I'd rather follow to the ends of the earth. In either case, it's a definite try-before-you-buy kind of fragrance. And yes, other reviewers have been quite correct in pointing out that this IS (love it or loathe it) a fragrance from another era. (Think Belle Epoque, folks.)

This one ultimately snags a positive rating from me, but with reservations. Here we go: a) try before you buy, b) ignore Turin's cruel "civet fart" comment and c) try to get a bottle in a swap, or "for cheap" if possible. ($200.00 is, like it or not, a great deal of money to spend on this Italian oddity.)

A slightly wacky gourmand whose fervent dream is to grow up and become an elegant French floral.
Mouthwatering vanilla notes over a warm heart of musky, distinctly feminine roses.
A fascinating juice.

Tocade must be Rochas' best kept secret. (I don't see that it gets much "play" on the Women's Board here, anyway.)

Modestly priced; readily available. I see it often at my local TJMaxx for under $25.00.
A marvelous steal, say I.

Very dry, very herbal, very retro. (If you like Sud Est, please queue up.) I find the cardamom in the opening notes a little off-putting, but I don't mind it so much as it does dry-down and tame itself pretty quickly.

There's quite a bit of sage here, too, hence the "dryness". There's also a bit of angelica in the herbal mix, thus adding a touch (but just a touch) of powdery sweetness to the final parts of the dry-down.

Very Italian stuff, but I, too, can see why this one wasn't a massive hit in this day and age. This ought to have been introduced during the late Eighties at the latest. if it is, in fact, discontinued, well, I'm not surprised.

Cool bottle, btw, with a chrome finish and faux alligator "wrap."

Spicy chypre of the old school -- about as French as one can get without putting on an Edith Piaf album and lighting up a Gauloise.

Marvelous, crisp neroli in the opening -- but don't be fooled by the innocent top notes. There's a masculine, slightly naughty, remarkably spicy heart here. The amber-y drydown is, granted, fairly weak and less than spectacular, but this is no sillage monster. (For that, try the 1989 concentrated version, with its opopopanax-laden dry-down. By the way, I staunchly refuse to "dis" the 1989 version, which -- contrary to popular belief -- is not a knock-off, but rather a re-interpretation of the original.)

Wonderful choice for a discreet, elegant office or school frag. Perfect for interviews, funerals, weddings etc.

Leather and spice and all things nice! I half expected an AdG clone when I first saw TB, but, boy, was I surprised! Just enough resinous wood (is that cedar? pine?) to make for a warm, woody dry-down. (But without the cedar headache that Gucci pour Homme (#1), Equus and Heritage can bring on if over-applied. Tons of patchouli, too -- yup, one of my very favorite kinds of dry-downs.

I have yet to buy a bottle, but have really enjoyed wearing the samples I've had. Big thumbs up for this modestly priced, terribly masculine frag.

The Oriental dry-down on this over-marketed French frag is simply gorgeous, but only if one is made of very strong stuff and can (and will) endure the sickeningly sweet fruit notes that precede the dry-down for HOURS. There's a cloying, possibly synthetic, unbelievably persistent fruit note here. (Is it the peach? the apricot? the pineapple? Hell, for all I know it's durian . . .).

The soft, musky dry-down is, again, really something else. So wait. But only if you're a huge fan of sickly sweet fruit in the waiting room.

At the very least, go easy on the atomizer, ladies, lest this "treasure" turn into a dragon.

Tuberose overdose? Yes. And what's wrong with that? I find Giorgio Beverly Hills to be positively intoxicating even today, all the way from its incredibly feminine, neroli-laced opening to its piquant, carnation-filled heart to its musk-laden, sexy-as-hell drydown. And, you bet, all throughout is that persistent and ever-present tuberose.

Good stuff. Good stuff, indeed.

The nutmeg in the opening will bowl you over. (If you have nostrils, that is.)

Still, this one's worth waiting on, as it possesses a pretty darned good Eighties take on sandalwood, oakmoss (LOTS OF IT) and amber. I pick up only a little lemon and even less musk here.

Make no mistake, though -- no matter what you may think of our boy Bijan, it is undeniable that over-applying may result in the loss of limbs, as your colleagues and friends will tear you apart for having bathed in Bijan. In short, apply with the greatest of caution.

I'm going to give this one a neutral, though, as few out there will apply it lightly. Most will spray on too much, thus rendering their homes, cars and offices uninhabitable for hours on end.

An aggressive, powdery, drugstore cheapie with way too much lavender and cheap amber and far too little patchouli. (If you're going to be an oily beast, at least come to the table slathered in patchouli.) Screaming sillage -- absolutely screaming. Very little, if any, complexity in the drydown.

Often sold very close to Fleet enemas in Walgreens across America. How appropriate.

Urine? URINE? I just don't get that -- not at all. (And not that I mind a little "pee pee" note once in a while . . . after all, I AM a huge fan of Kouros. But I digress.)

I seldom find myself liking jasmine heavy fragrances, but this one's really quite nice. There's honey and spice mixed in alongside the jasmine, and there is, therefore, no mistaking this one for anything but a feminine fragrance. Sorry, guys, but unisex it ain't. Sensual, yes, but unisex? No.

Warm, almost smoldering base of sandalwood. Flirty only in the coyest way, but not really sexy. Just comforting and (again) a tad flirty.

Niiiiiiiiiice.

Geezus Louizus! This is the sultriest sandalwood I've ever encountered! This is the pure, sweet sandalwood of Indian temples and old fashioned fans, not the cloying and synthetic crap we encounter so much of today.

The exotic spices here make Vamp a true Oriental -- lush and complex and deep.

Unquestionably unisex and definitely worth seeking out.

HUGE thumbs up.

Not so clove-y as Burts Bees Bay Rum, but with better longevity. Very masculine, very bracing and (yes), tgl is spot on in his analysis: VERY medicinal.

Like Santa Maria Novella's Pot Pourri? (And I do.) If so, then you'll love this modestly priced gem. If not, avoid it as you would the bubonic plague.

Dry and soapy musk with just enough spice to shake things up. This is Kiehls without those "suntan lotion" notes of sweetness that can be so off-putting. There's also a hint of something vaguely synthetic (think Jovan Musk for Men) here.

Damn good buy for the money -- about half the price of Kiehls.

Nutmeg and cloves abound in this inexpensive bay rum concoction. And yes, it's very like Old Spice. (Something which, we must remember, was also spawned by bay rum to begin with.)

Expect the clove note to linger and linger, but much else here fades fast. Pity.

The bitter artemisia and strong, earthy patchouli open up the sinuses right away, but then the civet begins and the honey comes in. I liken this one to Ted Lapidus pour Homme, and (to a lesser extent) Givenchy Gentleman. I don't get the Kouros connection, if any, although both frags (along with Lapidus and Gentleman) DO belong to a larger "power frag" clan. (Antaeus is in the same clan, btw, as is Balenciaga pour Homme.)

Problem with Furyo is its price now that it's discontinued. This rich, masculine powerhouse is worth seeking out, yes, but I daresay it's not worth the exorbitant prices I've seen on the secondary market. If you want the same general "feeling" for less dough, try Gentleman or Lapidus pour Homme (the original). If you can get Furyo without taking out a second mortgage on your house, though, you should definitely take the plunge. It's good stuff.

Femme and fruity Dior offering that will probably appeal most to women between 40 and 60.

Inoffensive enough for office wear but pleasant enough for casual wear as well.

The sweetness of the champaca can be a bit much upon application, as can the fruity notes. Soon, though, these die down and the fragrance really opens up into a lush floral heart. Nice woody dry-down.

Diorissimo it ain't, friends. But it's darn good for what it is, you bet.

The adjective "airy" best describes Noa. This Cacharel catch features crisp green notes (without an abundance of them, and without cloying clouds of aldehydes), coriander (just enough to spice up the mix and to even out the sweetness), carnation (but not nearly so much as Anaïs Anaïs, granted), lily (but not so much as to be cloying, overly exotic, or funereal) and what can best be described as one of the softest and most feminine white musks I've smelled to date.

Oddly enough, this most feminine and airy of fragrances is appropriate (IMHO) for office, casual OR evening wear. Very few frags masculine or feminine can make this claim.

Very hard to tell from the original, save in its greater longevity and sillage. The tobacco notes aren't quite so harsh, either.

Still, don't spend the moolah unless you just really want a discontinued original. For all intents and purposes, you're going to get the same thing minus a little "rumminess" with the equally sexy Montana Parfum d'Homme. (And for a helluva lot less.)

Thumbs up? Yes, absolutely -- but do take my advice above so long as Aramis keeps Havana and Havana Reserva among its discontinued fragrances.

A tobacco and patchouli heavy cheapie that could -- with just a little reformulation -- be truly good stuff. As things stand, it's dark and smoky and pretty darned sexy. Still, the poor quality of ingredients used render it relatively short-lived on the skin. The mediocre longevity and sillage earn it a "neutral" in my book.

If you want a better cheapie with equally fun, gimmicky packaging, try Cuba Gold.

A surprisingly unisex iris gem that starts off loud and floral, then quickly settles into a powdery, earthy hum of iris. I find both elements of Coco and No. 5 in this Chanel fragrance, and yet at other times it seems very much its own.

A must-try kind of frag for all serious iris fans.

Sweet, strong, synthetic Seventies sex sap. A must have for fans of Kiehl's and Jovan. This "Disco Stu" juice may take a lot of flak, but, hey, it's sexy enough to have gotten millions of men laid all around the world.

Buy it -- it's cheap. If you don't like it, you can always pack it up as a little gift for your next Basenotes swap.

Dirty, oily, sexy Seventies juice that was best worn in moderation.

In many ways, this was Givenchy Gentleman's kid brother, really. I've no idea why Cassini ever discontinued it.

This is the dry, bold, very Italian chypre that Gucci produced long before it turned to the cedar chest for inspiration in its flagship men's frag. If you like the original Equipage, you'll love Gucci pour Homme. I'm not sure it's worth the secondary market price it fetches on eBay, though, especially since so many bottles have now "turned" over the years. Look for old store stock and try to buy on the cheap.

This bad boy just brags a lot. He starts out terribly nasty, it's true, with booze-y bravado and smoke and mirrors. At first you catch yourself thinking, "Ah, Gucci pour Homme with less cedar and more Escada-ish bourbon and sweat and woodiness."

Soon, though, alas, this bad boy peters out into a pleasant, somewhat citrus-y, slightly green musk that's much more reminiscent of Fahrenheit than anything else.

I still like this fragrance, yes, but its deceptive opening and mediocre longevity do disappoint.

Thumbs up? Oh, sure -- why the hell not? DE's still better than the vast majority of mass marketed frags being churned out today. (That aside, do prepared to encounter more English in this scent than Dirty.)

Pure masculinity here -- not for those who seek airy clouds of neroli and subtle wisps of verbena. Think Bel Ami. Think Antaeus. Think spice and leather and something ever so slightly sweaty and raw.

A definite try-before-you-buy powerhouse.

Vawallpa has it spot on -- this is Ghost Man's younger brother. It's somewhat more removed from LM, yes, but not by very much . . . you really have the same fairly synthetic sweetness going on here, and the same strong lavender and amber notes. I far, far, far prefer Pi to Ghost Man, Hypnôse Homme and LM alike when it comes to admittedly synthetic vanilla vibes.

Still, I'm going to have to give this one a neutral for its lack of "punch" and its pretty pathetic longevity/sillage over all. Want sweet longevity? Grab a bottle of Pi and shut up already.

Cool bottle design, btw.

What a bizarre little beastie this is!

I agree with foetidus that the vetiver is somewhat obscured here, but what I can't get over is the lack of comments on the creamy/almost gourmand notes I keep picking up on in this Montale. (Is that chocolate I pick up on? No, no no . . . vanilla, then? Much more likely.)

The wood and spice/pepper notes are very linear here, much more so even than in the often compared TdH.

A good Montale? Yes. A great Montale? No. The juice is not, IMHO, commensurate with the posh Parisian price tag. Still, a weak thumbs up for quality ingredients, great sillage, awesome longevity and skillful blending.

Powdery opoponax, touches of Shalimar and its exotic vanilla-laden goodness and the citrus crispness of Eau du Coq, or perhaps another early, unisex toilet water. There's just enough cedar here to balance things out without making the whole affair too woody.

Completely suitable for men and women alike.
A wonderfully tailored fragrance. One of Etro's very best -- no doubt about it.

This one's taken a lot of flak, and I've no doubt that much of the flak in question comes as much from derision for the aggressive marketing campaign and youthful demographic as anything.

Really it's just an updated cousin to Clinique's Happy, with anise notes (a tad off-putting at first, granted) thrown in for good measure.

All in all, a very likable citrus frag with decent longevity and modest sillage.

Thumbs up, yes, but I don't think I'll be clamoring for a bottle any time soon. It's just good stuff for what it is.

I had expected to be "underwhelmed" by this Kenzo release -- I won't fib to you. But WOW was I pleasantly surprised! CoL has it spot on -- this stuff is (for want of a better term) downright "fizzy" in the nose. (Think of a grown-up version of lemon-lime soda, only with lots of coriander and soft florals and pleasant wood notes mixed in.) Very, very pleasing juice with a long and surprisingly powdery dry-down.

Terrific longevity and astounding sillage. Many compliments for me, too -- and that's always a nice bonus. :)

Try it.

First off, let me say on an "off note" just how much I loved the original ad campaign with Judy Garland singing "C'mon Get Happy" in the background.

That said, on to the fragrance itself. :)

Delicious white florals and grapefruit here -- almost effervescent. This is the kind of thing I could imagine on a young Audrey Hepburn: sparkling, fun, crisp and never cloying.

Many hate this one because it was among the first in a long line of "fresh" women's frags in the Nineties. But don't shoot Happy down simply because inferior clones came behind it. Revere it instead for the lovely scent that it is.

An odd beastie, indeed! Crisp, coniferous and almost shocking at first -- you'll think the Christmas tree was wrapped in garlands of roses and jasmine but tipped over and fell into your gin.

Soon, though, you can expect a warm and musky surprise in the dry-down. Sexy? No, but cozy and inviting nonetheless.

To be perfectly candid, I'm really surprised that Clinique hasn't discontinued Wrappings, as it's just unusual enough to be outside the mainstream of today's often confining market. (Beyond Paradise it ISN'T.) I'm damn glad Clinique HAS kept it out there on the market, but -- again -- I am surprised all the same.

A must-try, especially if you like cold weather frags which are different from all others. Easily unisex, btw.

Earthy, heady complex green, old fashioned yet sexy . . . so many adjectives apply to this now timeless Clinque chypre.

AE does an amazingly good job as a unisex frag, too, although (that said) one could just as easily say that Aramis 900 is so close to AE as to be its male counterpart. (Just amp up the herbal notes and tone down some of the roses in AE and, for all intents and purposes, you'll have Aramis 900.)

Amazing edp longevity and sillage with this frag.

A must-have for any fan of the truly "green" frags. BIG thumbs up.

Very, very similar to Joop! pour Homme -- make no mistake about it. The difference, though, lies in the quality of the ingredients used. Whereas Joop! relies upon a great many synthetics, Creed obviously uses top quality (and probably mostly natural ones).

As a result, OS goes on and stays on without the chemical nightmares so often induced by Joop! I myself have a love/hate affair with Joop! I wear it because a) I get so many compliments on it and b) I like it. That said, it wears best when it's been applied VERY LIGHTLY.

As much as I love OS and praise its high quality ingredients, I can certainly see why anyone on a budget would eschew OS in favor of Joop! (LIGHTLY APPLIED, that is.)

Still, a big thumbs up for this cinnamon and sandalwood beauty.

The almost tobacco-y leather base here is really pleasant, yes, but that's about all I can say for this one.

After the original Baldessarini, I really had my hopes up for something special. Instead, I got a watered down version of Escada pour Homme, with perhaps a little more amber and spice thrown in.

Mediocre longevity and sillage.

Tiger Balm it is, if only for the first five minutes of development. After that initial time has passed, the camphor-laden top notes warm and grow into a lovely, clove-y woodsy fragrance that stays very close to the skin. Still, this one doesn't develop much more beyond the "clove-y woodsiness" already mentioned.

A noble effort, but hardly worth a hundred bucks a bottle.

I have come, over time, to despise mint in fragrances, and this is why I gave up both Jazz and Pasha years ago. Still, the mint here is tempered by vanilla and woods, and doesn't come across with that vile "toothpaste" note that normally makes my stomach churn.

I was intrigued upon hearing that there was patchouli in this one, but -- to be honest -- I had to wait forever to encounter the patchouli it. (It finally came after the loud and slightly obnoxious labdanum blast.)

Thumbs up for a fragrance that a) is in a family I don't usually care for and b) uses mint without making me want to retch. (That's high praise coming from me.)

I detect a strong note of vetiver here, but perhaps it's just the wood notes I'm picking up on, or even something a hair grassier/greener than those. Like SirSlarty, I too pick up a distinctive anise-like accord in the opening, although I must admit that this dries down within a few minutes.

Rich, woody, almost creamy center in this bad boy, with just hints of pepper and citrus.

A definite thumbs up, yes, but I won't likely seek a bottle. (Not at Cereus' prices.)

A fusion of CKOne and L'Eau d'Issey, with more similarity to the former than the latter. Very strong, very crisp and clean. Still, there's nothing new or exciting here -- just typical of what dominated the market ten to fifteen years ago.

A stinker? By no means. I'll even give it a thumbs up for good construction and strength. All that said, i wouldn't buy it simply because the price tag isn't warranted given what you get for your buck. Get CKOne instead and save yourself the moolah.

A very dated white floral that always fails to wow me. Try as I have to like Eternity for Women, I've always ended up finding something in it cloying and synthetic. It should (IMHO) be light and airy and crisp, but it always seems to end up smelling very heavy and fake.

A failed experiment from CK.

Brilliant woody floral with rich, fruit-laden top notes. (Embarrassingly inexpensive stuff, too -- I saw this at a local Big Lots store for under $10.00 a bottle.) Massive longevity and incredible sillage with this little known Revlon gem.

A sweet gourmand I found to be surprisingly good. A tad syrupy at times, true, but the same can be said of most sweet, vanilla-heavy frags.

An awfully good choice for young ladies 21 and under, and maybe for some well over 21. Pity one has to give his/her dollars to that talentless Paris Hilton in order to get this affordable fragrance.

A bland, inoffensive juice that opens with sharp fruity notes and soon settles into a woody middle with a masculine, musky vibe. Beyond that it's all musk and warmth, but never anything spectacular.

I'll give this one a thumbs up, but only with the proviso that Azzaro Onyx can't hold a candle to the original Azzaro pour Homme.

Far more wearable than Eau d'Hermes, far less dated than the original Equipage (a classic though it is) and far less spicy than Bel Ami (my personal fave from this house).

A creamy, almost gourmand take on woods and spices. Very approachable, elegant frag with modest sillage and superb longevity.

I just don't understand all of the vitriol here. I mean, either you like this one (and I do) or you don't. I think many hate it because they've either blasted it on in copious amounts or have been around others who've done the same. When worn like that, it's perfectly vile. I'll grant you that.

Worn in moderation, though, it's a gorgeous Oriental. (Although teflondog's right in calling it a possible gourmand.) Gorgeous use of vanilla and tonka here, friends. Some of the greatest longevity and sillage out there, too. Damn good buy if you wear it as it ought to be worn. And yes, it can be legalized chemical warfare if worn otherwise.

Longevity's a bit of an issue, yes, but I for one really enjoy this powdery, musky lime concoction. It's not my normal cup of tea, no, but I'm awfully impressed with it considering its low price tag and wide availability. There is certainly a strong "cocktail" vibe here, with the coconut and lime notes (and, to a lesser extent, the "tequila" notes) clearly distinguishable

A good, casual choice for the under 25 crowd.

Easily one of the very best early Nineties frags. (You can really classify this one among Eighties power frags, truth be told.)

Gigli starts off very fresh and somewhat coniferous, but soon dries into a wonderful medley of spices, sandalwood and tobacco. This is a light and clean tobacco, by the way, not the ball-sweat "stank" stuff of Polo nor the pipe tobacco stuff of The Dreamer.

Other reviewers have been QUITE correct in asserting that this is not, though, a frag for a) twinksters who want the latest "fresh aquatic" frag, nor b) really for anyone much under 30.

Wear this one with confidence and marvel at its versatility.

Absurd terms such as "raindrop accord" aside, this is a synthetic mess which really wants to work -- yet fails. I like the fresh ginger opening, but the pallid melon notes and "blah" sandalwood dry-down really lack the oomph I look for in a frag. Also, sillage and longevity here leave a great deal to be desired.

Euphoria Intense is the far better fragrance, even in spite of its opening "melon blast." Do yourself a favor and pass over Euphoria. While not terrible, it's certainly not great, either. Get the Euphoria Intense -- it's by far the superior juice.

A polite, inoffensive fragrance that was really created for tasteful, late 19th century dandies. (Don't expect sillage or longevity -- this is an EDC deluxe.) Wonderful construction here, but about as useful as teats on a boar hog unless you just really want to splash on some EDC in the summertime.

A pleasant but somewhat pallid reflection of the women's original. (Imagine the feminine version with slightly more sandalwood and lots more powder.)

I'm giving this one a thumbs up, but only because a) I'm so fond of its feminine predecessor and b) it's so darned affordable.

A rich and complex Oriental, and a real bargain for the price! If you like Tabu, this one's going to be right up your alley. (Same holds true for Youth Dew, IMHO.) In fact, I've always thought that Royal Secret smells very like a hybrid of the two, although it leans slightly more in Tabu's direction.

A warm and memorable treat (with great sillage and outstanding longevity, btw) for very little moolah. I'm SO glad that Monteil sold the formula to someone else so this juice could stay in production!

A soapy, musty, powdery old fashioned lavender that lacks any real punch (unlike the edgy and moody Gris Clair). I kept expecting incense galore, but have gotten only hints of it (mixed with a strong powdery vibe) in the warm drydown.

Great longevity? Yes. Quality of lavender itself? Superb -- as to be expected. Drydown? Pleasant enough, granted. All in all, i have to give this one kudos for quality, if nothing else. Still, Gris Clair is by FAR the better of the two lavender frags, and Encens et Lavande, IMHO, lacks the "oomph" it needs to merit its high price tag.

A pleasant, inoffensive vetiver frag for very little money. If you like L'Homme by Lanvin, you won't be disappointed. (Very like L'Homme, only with fruitier notes and a woodier "heart.") If you're looking for something with some serious verve, though, look elsewhere -- this is office frag personified.

Light citrus that starts off much like Rochas' Aquaman but settles quickly into a warm but (sadly) generic drydown. Not too much cedar here, but just enough to give the whole affair some woodiness.

In a world filled with citrusy, "fresh" frags, you could do better. You could also do worse.

One of the best surprises I've had this year! I had always avoided this discontinued frag because I'd just assumed that it was just another boring aquatic clone from Nautica.

What I discovered when I actually sampled it? A very pleasant, spicy twist on the aquatic (think nutmeg and musk!) with a warm and rich sandalwood drydown.

Fan of anise notes? This one's far more subtle in its use of anise than are Rive Gauche (star anise) and Lolita Lempicka for Men (traditional anise times ten).

Still, I would think twice about buying this one for a romantic frag or a "party" frag as it's got longevity, yes, but very little sillage. Nice office choice for colder climes.

SirSlarty nailed this one -- this is a sharp and rather monotonous wood frag whose longevity may be great but whose complexity (or, rather, the lack thereof) leaves a great deal to be desired.

For a truly great cedar-based frag, try Heritage or Equus. Even Tumulte's not half bad, and reasonable to boot. But this one? Hardly worth the bother, especially for the hefty price.

Atrac nailed it -- this really is Caron's Third Man, only more powdery, somewhat less lavender and lower longevity. Still a damn good buy, though -- I paid all of $4.00 plus tax (at Big Lots, no less!) for my 3.4 oz. bottle.

An odd bird, this. I usually don't care for strong violet frags for women, but this one really threw me for a loop. Imagine a gourmand that's also a distinctive floral. Imagine a "dark" frag that's also bright and crisp. Green yet purple.

Bizarre stuff -- well worth the sampling.

A warm, woody vetiver that shares much in common (aside from the prominent vetiver note) with Thierry Mugler Cologne.

The wood notes become much more evident within the first ten minutes after application, then the "soft" portion of the drydown begins in earnest.

A bold yet never harsh interpretation of vetiver that every vetiver fan should at least try, if not own.

Cheap? Hardly. Inexpensive? Yes, but not "cheap."

On the contrary, I think this sparkling white musk/peony gem smells almost identical to Bond No. 9's much more expensive (and far less readily available!) West Side.

Lizsport is also surprisingly unisex. My other half and I bought a bottle at TJ Maxx today for all of $9.99 + tax and we're both VERY happy with our new purchase. (Think West Side for 1/10th the price!) It goes on a bit femme, true, but its drydown is a) quick and b) NOT gender specific at all.

Fan of Issey Miyake, guys? Give this one a try -- it's vaguely in the same general family.

BIG thumbs up!

Crisp and dry citrus fragrance that reminds us all of an era in which the bourgeoisie would douse or spritz themselves liberally with concoctions such as this throughout the day.

It's charming stuff, but the quintessence of eau de cologne if ever I encountered it. (Put another way, expect a refreshing splash or spray, but nothing much more than that, as Eau du Coq's about as ephemeral a frag as you'll encounter.)

Dry and elegant? Yes. Charmingly bottled? You bet. A safe bet for anyone expecting longevity and/or sillage? Uh, no. No. And by the way -- no.

Thumbs up? Yes, but only with the comments above to serve as a proviso.

Multiple personalities in this French classic: a crisp and bright fragrance that dries down to a woody, earthy vetiver and from there to a tobacco-rich, spicy goodness. (Whew! Talk about a ride!)

I do not care for the recent Guerlain re-formulation -- it lacks the "teeth" of the original and is, IMHO, a pale reflection of the same. Sadly, the vintage Guerlain is getting harder to find all the time, and more expensive. Nevertheless, I try to always keep a bottle of the original, vintage version in my collection. Always.

A more coniferous version of Cool Water.

Oddly, I like it far better than Cool Water, though. (That's not really saying a great deal, though, as I'm no fan of Cool Water.) Still, I have to give credit where credit is due and admit that -- for an inexpensive, drugstore frag -- one could do a lot worse.

If dollars are all you care to see, though, then at least do yourself a favor and sample before Aspen any number of other frags that can be had "on the cheap" (e.g., Canoe, Monsieur Musk, Grey Flannel, Royal Copenhagen, Perry Ellis, Catalyst etc.).

Innocent without being cloying (as many jasmine frags can be). Gorgeous use of magnolia, too, to soften and round out the jasmine's sharper, greener edges, and just enough ginger to make things effervesce.

A big thumbs up for this, one of my favorite Goutals to date.

Lauder's brother? Not so much as a half-brother there, I'm afraid. No, the original formula of this dry, citrus-heavy Spanish chypre is much, much more closely related to Lacoste pour Homme. (Perhaps a "three-quarter sibling," LOLOLOL.) I see little or no resemblance to Coriolan, except perhaps in the dryness department. I see a bit of resemblance to Boucheron pour Homme, too, but only somewhat so.

A bit hard to find in the States.

Bright, white floral for men, heavy on the narcissus and neroli.
Warm, woody dry-down about one hour into the wearing.

Unfortunately, this hard-fo-find frag has more of an EDC than an EDT strength -- expect two hours of wear (maximum). As a result, I give this one a "neutral" ranking.

I really wanted to like this one, as I'm fond of SMN's PotPourri. (Both fall into the same "old school" category of medicinal frags, iMHO.) That said, I couldn't bring myself to wear Piper Nigrum again. The mint note (i.e., the same thing that makes me queasy when Live Jazz and other mint-heavy frags) was extremely strong. Also, I could see how PN's mega-sillage could easily disrupt even the most otherwise convivial office environment. (No matter how much you yourself might like it, bear in mind that your colleagues might have a very different take on this Italian powerhouse.)

It's a beautifully blended fragrance in spite of my personal inability to wear and enjoy it, though, and unquestionably a Villoresi everyone should at least try at some point. I'll give this one a thumbs upl, but with two provisos: a) try it before you buy it and b) bear in mind that it may not be the world's best choice for an office frag.

An iris frag for those who have a problem with too much iris, really.

I find it a pleasant, spicy, citrus-heavy frag with just enough iris for dryness (sans the powdery, lipstick-y notes of the original Dior Homme).

A definite thumbs up, yes, but do be aware that I only put on two squirts at Sephora yesterday. I was by myself for hours afterward, and so I cannot comment yet upon Dior Homme Sport's sillage.

If you like Insensé, Fleur du Mâle or L'Eau d'Issey, then you really owe it to yourself to at least TRY Anucci for Men. This reasonably priced little gem (funky, somewhat gimmicky bottle, btw) definitely falls into the white floral category, albeit with very distinctive green notes and musky underpinnings.

Goes on brash at first, but dries down to a lovely and long lasting finish.

Somewhat pleasant, extraordinarily inoffensive mixture of light mint and Miyake-esque musk.
Overhyped; overpriced.

Meh.

One of my very favorite vetiver frags -- imagine Happy for Men (all that grapefruit) mixed with a generous dose of nutmeg, all layered upon a resinous, smoky, woody vetiver base.

Not for the faint of heart, no. Like Lempicka au Masculin and Dali pour Homme, Mémoire is pretty strong stuff. (This due to the bitterness of the nutmeg, the piquancy of the ginger and the woody strength of the vetiver). Two thumbs up from me, though.

Brisk, clean citrusy frag that (blessedly) lacks the cloying, artificial "aquatic" notes of the oddly popular original. (Nice warm dry-down on this one, too.)

I probably won't be going out of my way to get a bottle, no, but -- for me -- it falls squarely into the same camp as Herrera Aqua. How's that? Well, this is definitely one I might buy were I a bigger fan of this frag family in general.

All in all, a pleasant frag well worth exploring for fans of the "aquatics."

Blood oranges? Hmmm -- I got pineapples in my first whiff (and lots of themt, I might add). But then, my nose is not the most sophisticated one out there. I kept expecting the tomato leaf notes to be predominant, but (alas) they weren't.

The lilies in the heartnotes make for a wonderful, lush middle, granted, but the "freshly laundered t-shirt" dry-down is just plain old white musk. Horrible? No. Exciting, though? Hardly -- think L'Eau d'Issey for women and you pretty much have the picture.

All in all, a thumbs up from me. (But not a big one.)

Tedious but oddly popular "aquatic" laden with synthetics. Could have been a much better frag with far less lavender and more tobacco in the drydown, but "coulda shoulda woulda" means little in the long run.

All in all, a big fat neutral -- Davidoff pour Homme is FAR AND AWAY the better frag.

Not worth the bother (not even now that it's no longer discontinued) if you didn't care for Davidoff's Cool Water so very much in the first place.

Inexpensive but deliciously skanky musk for men. Very Seventies in its vibe, with just a touch of floral notes to offset the strength of the (no doubt) synthetic musk base. Some patchouli in the basenotes, I believe -- can't remember. Used to get tons of nice comments when I wore this one years ago.

Given its sexiness, well, it's odd that Fabergé ever opted to discontinue this one.

Soapy, musky white floral that seemed to last forever on the skin. (Think Charlie with less exuberance and more sexiness.) A favorite with girls when I was in high school, and a favorite of mine even now (when I can still smell it). My aunt had a bottle forever; I think she finally used it up. Pity.

Strong notes of fruit and anise over an even stronger tonka base. The sweet plum note is a bit disconcerting in the opening, granted, but it (fortunately) dries down to a warm and spicy note before too long.

Fans of both LeMâle and Catalyst should find some common ground here, as should (as Blue_Jay pointed out) fans of Dolce & Gabbana pour Homme. I even see some similarities (probably due to the tonka) to Arpège pour Homme (albeit mostly in the drydown).

Monster sillage here, so proceed with caution. Massive longevity, too -- easily one of the longest lasting frags I've purchased in the past year.

Probably not best suited for extremely warm climes, but I'll let you be the judge of that.

All in all, a fantastic bargain sleeper. (A definite try-before-ya-buy kind of frag, though.)

Damn good buy for the whopping $12.00 I paid at Gordman's! Citrusy opening that soon dries into a spicy set of green notes with just a hint of fruit. Great longevity, and excellent sillage as well.

Glad I picked this one up!

If you want an inexpensive coniferous frag, reach for Pino Silvestre and leave this stuff on the shelf.

Offensive? No.
Thumbs down? No -- I'll give it a solid "neutral" rating.
Interesting, though, or worth seeking out? Not really.

Powdery beyond powdery -- the quintessence of powdery, in fact.
(n.b.: The underlying sweetness here is of the "perfume-y" type, not the gourmand type.)

A definite try-before-you-buy kind of frag, esp. in light of its high "discontinued, hard-to-find" price tag.

A grand "sweater weather" fragrance. I really love this Eighties classic, but it -- by its very nature -- is (at least for me!) one of those frags that can seldom be worn after spring/before autumn.

I don't find it linear at all -- on the contrary, I contend that it's rich, complex and beautifully blended. Not as formal as Rouge, either -- Xeryus is versatile enough for casual and/or office wear.

I wish that Givenchy had kept the original "Eighties Neo-Art Deco" bottle, but perhaps the house's marketing department thought differently.

Powdery, masculine and musky classic. A smidgen dated? Perhaps, but no more so than another powdery favorite, Jockey Club. In fact, JC reminds me a great deal of RC -- just imagine Jockey Club with dryer notes, more powder and less carnation. Same barbershop appeal. Pinaud, too, is in the same family, as is Canoe.

A big thumbs up, especially given the price tag and wide availability.

I fully expected to hate this one, and to dub it the evil stepchild of Eternity. To be honest, though, I have to admit that I was pleasantly surprised. A little melon-y for my tastes, true, but far more pleasant than I expected. I kept smelling white musk after about 30 minutes or so.

Would I go out of my way to get a bottle? No, almost certainly not. But would I wear it if given this as a gift? Probably, if only occasionally. Still NOT my favorite KIND of scent, but all in all better than the vast, vast majority of other crappy offerings that CK has put out (CKOne and CKBe the exceptions) since after Obsession.

Thumbs up.

Soapy and artificial smelling. Not really bad, no, but Taolady nailed it with the adjective "forgettable."

Want a pure, simple rose for a young lady, or perhaps a good quality rose frag that would be both affordable and inexpensive? Try Gres' Cabaret pour Femme, or pick up Tea Rose by TPW. I won't say "avoid Rosamor", no, but I won't be steering you toward it, either.

Licorice scented, soap -- CHEAP licorice-scented floral soap. Probably first discovered in a toxic waste site, no less.

Cheap, tacky bottle and horrible plastic lid, to boot.

A definite must-try for lovers of bright aldehydes. RG (the original) is all about lightness and brightness and all things Parisian. It may well be a tad dated, yes, butby no means so much that it's unapproachable. A true classic here, and one that's especially good in summer months.

It's odd that I so love Angel yet so abhor A*men, as many of the same notes are there. But what I get from Angel is patchouli and chocolate and sweet burnt sugar, while all I get from A*men is rancid cocoa and burnt tar (and lots of the latter).

Angel, for me, is as rich, sensual and vanilla-laden as A*men is harsh, bitter and migraine-inducing.

Hmmmm -- orange marmalade with a spritzer. How very droll.

Think Francesco Smalto pour Homme married to Montana Parfum d'Homme and you pretty much have all the olfactory info you need to peg this one.

Sadly, discontinued.

Gris Clair's warmer, friendlier cousin. (Not really close enough to be a sibling, but definitely in the same formal lavender clan.)

I'm not usually a huge fan of mint (witness my general indifference to Live Jazz, Pasha and others), but the mint really, really works here.

The frag itself does warm up a bit as the wearing goes on, true, but this neverthelss a formal, almost aloof kind of frag from beginning to end. (Great for the office, but probably not a romantic dinner kind of frag, let alone casual Friday.)

Thumbs up, granted, but only with the provisos above firmly in place.

CdG #3 is green and citrus-laden at first, granted, even to the point of fruitiness, but that soon dies down and is replaced by a cedary brute that is (at least to my nose) a half-sibling to Terre d'Hermes. (I can't believe no one else has picked up on this so far!)

Still, there is that trademark CdG synthetic "twang" to this one, and that distinguishes it (and not for the better) from TdH, at least in my humble opinion. Neutral on this one, as it's almost like a TdH wannabe that doesn't quite make it.

A bone dry men's chypre from MK, with hints of spices below.
Very good longevity.

For some reason, MK has either discontinued this one. Can't imagine why. It was, along with Tamerisk, MK's very best men's frag.

I'm not a fan of fig notes (isn't that fig I detect in it?), but I do like the florals in this one. Nice woodsy dry-down that makes the fruity floral (read: slightly harsh) opening worth it all.

All that aside, I won't be scrambling to buy this one for a gift anytime soon.

Thumbs up, but only marginally so.

Awfully sweet for my taste -- I'm going to have to give this one a neutral.

I don't mind bold roses (e.g., Black Aoud), nor dry roses (e.g., Cabaret pour Femme), nor green roses (e.g., Tea Rose). All that said, I don't often care for sweet roses such as this one.

A fine frag for kids, maybe, but probably not for anyone over 16.

Gorgeous frag I love to wear in cold weather. (That said, I'm not sure I can even imagine putting this one on in spring or summer.) Deep and complex and oh-so-spicy -- not at all like the other (read: bland, boring) Shiseido frags for men that I've tried.

The coriander can be a bit strong at first, as can both the cedar and lavender. Basala/Basara is definitely one of those frags, though, that you really need to give at least a few hours' time to, if not multiple wearings.

A must-try if not a must-have.

Herrera Aqua? Not even that memorable.

In a word? Meh.
Two words? Aquatic meh.

Very akin to Dupont's Signature for men, with bright florals and fruits over a woody base. This is one of the few frags I can think of in which the gardenia and rose don't overpower the other floral notes.

Pretty old school in its construction, though, and not for young women in search of a light and breezy type of frag. Also, this one's probably better suited for romantic and formal events in the evening -- I can certainly see how it might come across as overbearing and/or cloying in confined business spaces.

Dry, patchouli-laden fougère that really stands out among the JB products I've sampled. If you're a fan of Heritage and/or Cacharel pour Homme, you'll want to give this one a fair shake.

JB Signature almost has an Eighties powerhouse feel about it -- very bold and masculine and not at all what you'd expect from a frag created less than a decade ago.

First off, neither Black Mark nor Gucci PH have been able to offer me in the way of cedar-based frags what Lalique Equus edt has been able to. Still, I like Black Mark better than PH -- it's creamier and softer and lacks that hard, cedar-y edge that PH possesses.

Like foetidus, I'm not a huge fan of saffron (hence my indifference toward L'Homme Sage as well). Still, I can't help but like Black Mark and appreciate its quality ingredients and clever blending. All in all, a must-try frag for cedar fans who've not yet sampled it.

Not my cup of tea (I'm no fan of fig notes in general), but remarkably good stuff for the moolah. It's definitely a product of the late Nineties, what with its "clean and fresh" herbal thaaaang going on, but all in all not bad at all for something from Jōvan.

Pleasant and clean and remarkably affordable. If you like Gendarme, CK1 and/or Issey Miyake, you'll likely flip for this little puppy (especially once you see the VERY modest cost).

Decent longevity and good sillage -- a damn good bang for very little coin.

This is what happens when you leave your Carlos Santana for Men next to your Liz Claiborne Spark -- the two mate at night and create this odd little baby.

Put another way, it's Spark without the cheap synthetic rumminess and Santana minus the distinctive (and very pleasant) musky notes.

If you like fruity, fairly sweet men's frags, you can't go wrong (esp. for the low price tag). If this type of frag is NOT your bailiwick, though, I'd run screaming in the opposite direction.

I'm giving this one a thumbs up, but only with the proviso above.

This is what Le Mâle SHOULD have been -- COULD have been, even. Glorious use of neroli, and proof positive that white florals for men can and do work.

I've no doubt that Fleur du Mâle is chock-a-block full of synthetics, and frankly I don't give a crap -- it WORKS. I especially like the sexy use of vanilla here, and (again) can't stop thinking about the clever way in which neroli is used in it, either.

I get tons of compliments when I don this one, and also feel very sexy and confident after having put it on. At the very least, I have to say that everyone should at least try this one once.

Dense describes it perfectly -- a dense multi-floral from another era altogether. Don't think for a moment, though, that "dense" here implies sodden or heavy. No, this is dense complexity -- the French perfumer's art at its best.

What starts out as tuberose overdose with lily and jasmine galore soon dries down into a green floral delight and then onward into a warm and inviting muskiness.

Very, VERY old school opulence -- not for the faint of heart, nor for the die-hard fan of Tommy Girl and other relentless, watery clone frags. Appropriate for any age if worn with confidence. A must-try for any frag aficionado, too.

Magnificent rendering of the rose note, I'll agree. Still, what makes it so is the unusual use of gurgum (thanks for the info there, zztopp) and what I can only describe as a deliciously high quality sandalwood note -- very dry, very expensive. (I hope I have this pegged -- that's certainly what I'm picking up here.)

This is by far the most subtle of the aoud offerings from Montale that I've sampled to date, but it's no blushing violet. The aoud note is clear and consistent and long lasting on me, and in no danger of being overwhelmed by the rose (as is almost the case insofar as Black Aoud goes).

Definitively unisex comfort frag -- very powdery, very dry but not dessicated. HUGE thumbs up!

Herrera for Men is just a tad too sweet for me -- is it a clove note that makes it so? No, I don't think so -- it seems to be an anise note, or something along those lines (but not listed).

It's a classic, though -- just a classic I'd rather give out for gifts than keep for myself. I can definitely see this one still being around twenty years from now and -- in a world of ephemeral market "blips" -- that's saying a lot.

One of the few aquatics I can really say I like. Very fresh, very crisp bergamot here, with a fruity heart and a light musky base. Decent longevity; average sillage.

I won't be going out of my way to snag a bottle, no, but I certainly have to give this frag a thumbs up.

Soapy, powdery gardenia. Goes on with a sharp edge, but dries down beautifully for a drugstore type frag.

Lots of bang for the buck here -- a definite must-try for fans of White Shoulders, Jungle Gardenia and White Diamonds alike.

Seventies Era powerhouse chypre. Very green and herbal, but also leathery and tough -- imagine Equipage without its polite veneer and rounded corners. A definite classic, yes, but one which would likely not sell well today -- not at all. This is a very masculine, very French affair whose composition would today be a bit of a dinosaur. (And more's the pity.)

Big oily eighties monster -- very green at first, but dry and woodsy later on.

I can't say that I remember it terribly fondly, no, but I certainly can't say that it was crap, either. My dad used to wear this one from time to time, and I remember it as one of many loud, brash Eighties frags, some of which were fabu, some of which were just OK (like Adolfo) and some of which were, well, you get the picture.

Gorgeous concoction -- easily my favorite of the Voluspa line thus far. Longevity doesn't seem to be as much of an issue with this one as it is with other Voluspa edt's, no, but I still find Mignonette lacking in the longevity department.

Wonderful use of fruit notes here, btw. Mignonette is really too feminine for me to wear out in public, so I think I'll just stick to the candle versions to appreciate this frag. I wish that Voluspa would create a men's frag (for home and body alike), or at least one that had some real "teeth" to it (and longevity). I see a lot of potential here, though.

Clever affair with crisp citrus top notes and a powdery, slightly floral dry-down. Still, the longevity issue rears its ugly head here -- as it does with all of Voluspa's edt offerings. I find that this one lasts no longer than one hour on my flesh.

I think I'll just keep buying the candles in this one. Still, I have to do the right thing and give the fragrance itself a thumbs up.

Gorgeous frag -- really what Prada for Men wanted to be and/or should have been. Sweet amber lovers, beware though -- this is seriously sweet territory here.

Balanced, complex dry-down that's vaguely reminiscent of Egoiste and Prada alike, but with a powdery note (the iris, perhaps?) that makes me keep smelling my wrist all evening, long after the spicy heart notes have died down.

I've read that this is Rufus Wainwright's signature scent, and that makes me like this little puppy all the more.

For some odd reason, VW for Men "feels" like a frag that might have been blended three decades ago rather than one (or less than one) -- very elegant use of sandalwood and leather in this juice, but a bit formal and stuffy.

VW is great for office wear and even formal occasions, but, IMHO, is probably NOT the best choice for "jeans and t-shirts" sorts of days. All in all, an elegantly blended affair that's well worth the money.

Warm and dry fragrance for fans of olive notes, with just a touch of pepper in there to break up the monotony. Great (albeit fairly linear) frag for the office or classroom.

Nice range of home scenting products available in this frag, too -- I like that about The Thymes and its full range of mdse.

Warm, soft and powdery -- literally "feels" golden in the nose. Goldleaf is The Thymes' best seller, and I can't believe that this ultra-feminine classic doesn't get more play here on Basenotes.

Btw, guys, it's not just for the gals -- you can enjoy a full range of Goldleaf home scenting products (e.g., candles, sprays etc.) without spritzing on the juice itself.

This gem would be staid at best (and downright prim at worst) were it not for the gorgeous fruit notes that lift it up and away from many other traditional, woody florals of the same type.

Polge did a wonderful job here balancing the fruity and the floral, and, in doing so, managed to create a lovely frag. That said, it pales in comparison to Tiffany for Men which, IMHO, ranks as one of his greatest creations ever.

Bizarre but beautiful concoction that puts me very much in mind of Thierry Mugler's Angel. A deep, chocolate-drizzled floral gourmand that is way too feminine on my skin, but definitely a creation to be admired from afar -- I can certainly see why this one has its ardent devotees.

I agree with pluran -- this sexy leather frag is easily related to Tabac Blond, but considerably more masculine. The oakmoss moves it into the realm of the bad boy, granted, but there's still a formality here in spite of the leathery/orange-y sexiness. (I would feel just as comfortable putting this on for the board room as for the boudoir.)

I haven't yet sprung for a bottle, no, but am making my decant last as long as humanly possible. Along with Noir Epices (one of my all time favorites), Cuir d'Oranger is one of the very best orange-heavy frags ever made, IMHO.

Bal a Versailles' rich older sister, with opoponax added and more sandalwood for sheer exoticism and more complexity. Also a distant cousin of Shalimar.

Truly one of the most beautiful leathery, powdery dry-downs in the fragrance world. Easily unisex -- I have no earthly idea why MPG ever labeled it as a "women's" frag in the first place.

A boring little floral for men -- nothing particularly "black" about it. Sweet vanilla is sort of synthetic. Snore.

GIT and MI here, with no hint (that I can see) of SMW.

Not my favorite among the Bond No. 9 frags, no, but that's really because of personal "frag type" preferences and not because of the frag itself.

Vibert's right, btw, about the longevity -- it does outlast others in this family, and features a more interesting dry-down as well.

Hmmm -- I think we used to make pomanders like this in Sister Elizabeth's first grade class. We stuck cloves in oranges and then let the oranges dry. We then gave these clove-studded oranges to our mothers. The smell was marvelous, you bet, but for FAR less moolah.

An explosive flower bomb that came around long before the Viktor & Rolf frag of that same name. As has been amply noted below, this is potent stuff, so do apply with caution. (The edp is easily the equivalent of most perfumes -- a double spritz or daub should suffice.)

Very green and fruity in its opening, with a luscious tuberose and jasmine filled heart that soon gives way to soft musk and sweet spices.

Many detractors, yes, but many more fanatical followers. (Myself included.)

Fairly spartan pyramid, with a citrusy/woodsy opening and a woody/spicy dry-down.

Cumin haters and cardamom foes need not apply, btw -- just be forewarned. (As with Rive Gauche pour Homme, Kingdom and other frags, these two spices can have a "sweating Pakistani cabby after having eaten curry" effect on some wearers' skins.)

I think of Déclaration as TdH's predecessor. This is odd, esp. since Déclaration came out at a time (a decade ago) when the diluted little Tommy Boys ruled the roost.

Imagine Happy with more ginger and less grapefruit, all on a bed of amber and light sandalwood. The ginger is strong and zesty, but not strong enough to keep the longevity where it needs to be. (Expect fairly frequent re-applications with this one.)

Beautifully blended, yes, but (again) the longevity sucks. Moderate sillage. Easily unisex, but leans just a hair toward the feminine.

Thumbs up, but with the things above duly noted.

I've only smelled absinthe once, and I remember it having been far more licorice-y/anise-y than this. What I'm picking up here is more caraway-ish in nature, possibly with hints of some green herbal note -- lovage, perhaps, or maybe even tarragon? Would love to see the pyramid on this odd little beast. There's a definite streak of mint here, as well.

Don't know quite what to make of this one, really. It goes on smelling very medicinal and quite herbal (in a savory way -- think caraway) and soon dries down to a sweet minty smell with woody undertones.

Not unpleasant at all. In fact, I rather like it. Thumbs up? Yes, especially after having smelled another herbal concoction -- Skarb -- this past week and having found it much less pleasant. Still, this one is a definite "try it before ya buy it" frag, no question about that.

In all candor, I had expected to fully hate this one. Simply put, it's because most rose-based frags for men don't work well on me (Black Aoud the obvious exception, with a few other Montales in the exception category.)

Iquitos I find wonderful but cloying (on my skin); L'Ombre Dans L'Eau is beautifully constructed but far too green for my taste. I could go on, but you get the general idea.

Caraceni, though, totally took my breath away. The remarkable use of frankincense and tobacco here was/is nothing short of genius, and the rose absolute used was/is anything but cloying. (I grew up in the funeral industry, so trust me when I say that I know how cloying the wrong rose scent can be. There's a vast gulf between embalming fluid rose/memorial wreath rose and Black Aoud rose.)

Stupendous stuff -- I finally understand what all the hooplah is about.

This classic really takes a bad rap on this review board, friends.

Imagine, if you will, Dior's Eau Sauvage with lime added to the lemon. Throw in some tangy fruits (an odd but workable addition, trust me) and then a very masculine dry-down of vetiver, tobacco (very slight) and moss.

Moustache is bracing and tasteful. Very good in the longevity department, but not a sillage beast. (At least not on my hide.)

This is a handsome and tailored French fragrance, appropriate for office and casual wear alike.

Yummy!!! A nasty little ylang ylang and leather number that has a vanilla-laden opening with hints of rubber, an opening that's remarkably reminiscent of Dzing! by L'Artisan Parfumeur.

This is a little sex bomb, truly -- one of the very few frags with heavy jasmine that I could ever find myself wearing. (Creed's Royal Delight falls into this camp as well.) The vanilla? It just PURRS on my skin!

A totally unexpected (albeit X rated) pleasure -- it's almost like a scandalous leather-and-latex boutique in Paris exploded and landed on top of a posh florist's shop.

Stardust it is, with just a nod of the head in GIT's general direction.

Fan of Llewellyn but don't want to pay the price? Snag a bottle of Fougères Marines and spritz away!

I seldom do this (seldom if ever), but here's where I have to step in and say, "Basically what foetidus just said." Really.

The chocolate/patchouli mixture in Borneo 1834 is very handsome, granted, but the chocolate itself falls short and the patchouli just smells like good quality, uncut patchouli oil. I just kept expecting more from this fragrance, esp. since it's from Lutens' ultra-premium non-export line.

Those who know me know how much I am repulsed by A*men, and it's true that Borneo is a stripped down version thereof. But what's missing (obviously) is that vile burnt tar note that makes A*men so utterly unwearable for me. (Small doses I can take -- witness Black Jeans. Huge doses make me ill, esp. when coupled with tonka.)

The camphor doesn't bother me, but it's not even strong enough to notice -- at least not on my flesh. Same with the honey, and it's something that I usually love. Here (as opposed to Miel de Bois, obviously), it just barely factors into the equation.

I really, really want to love this Lutens frag -- it got me lots of compliments today! (And I AM a frag whore deluxe.) Still, though, I just find it lacking at the end of the day, especially for the exorbitant price it commands.

An immortelle fragrance for those who hated Sables. Really. Very food-y take on the note without the "syrup" effect of Annick Goutal's much loved/much hated rendition on the same theme.

The tea note is prominent, and its tannic quality helps to mute (what would otherwise be) the cloying sweetness of the cinnamon and vanilla.

A comforting, sexy, intimate frag that Ayala should, by all rights, be marketing to men as well as women. GORGEOUS stuff!

Mean green sexy machine! A classic chypre, with a blast of tarragon and sage to open your sinuses at first. From there, it's all about the labdanum, spices (can't quite put my finger on them, though), patchouli and benzoin.

What comes to mind first and foremost for me is the old Givenchy Gentleman -- I get much of that with the patchouli-heavy drydown. Still, this has no civet that I can detect (unlike Gentleman) and a slightly more unisex dry-down.

Gorgeous "dark" green frag, but the price tag (as with the other Tom Fords in this line) is, for me, prohibitive. (A huge thumbs up, though!)

A very pretty oud-based frag, albeit more subtle than Black Aoud, that powerhouse. Imagine Black Aoud with less rose and more sandalwood. The oud is equally medicinal, yes, but its incredible dry-down is equal to that of the other Montale ouds I've sampled (including BA). The cumin note is a tad off-putting at first (as in Rive Gauche pour Homme and Greyland), but you soon figure out why it was necessary in the first place (i.e., to help cut the sweetness/sharpness of the oud and roses in the opening).

Decadent and lush indeed! Massive amounts of tuberose here, so opponents of white florals had best beware.

To quote the inimitable Vibert, "while wearing Luxe Champaca I feel a bit like a debauched and aging drag queen who's trying just a bit too hard to channel Lauren Bacall." LOLOLOL -- I couldn't have said it better myself!

All that aside, suffice it to say that this one is a) far too feminine for me for everyday wear and b) too expensive for everyday wear, to boot. (But I'm sure going to enjoy the hell out of my sample!)

Where's the French court painter when you need him? This is a decadently Bourbon banquet of brandy soaked fruit, nuts, honey and wine.

The table is groaning as this gorgeous gourmand weighs it down. Before too long, though, the fruit-laden opening slowly winds down and a gentle after dinner glow commences, with vanilla and honey and coffee for all.

The drydown separates this heavenly fragrance into two distinct parts: a) the ebullient gourmand laughing and eating having a good time and b) the sophisticated gastronome smiling shyly after what can only be described as one hell of a feast.

This is the first Frapin frag I've tried to date, and now I can't wait to sample the others.

Bogart pour Homme and A*men, after a night of forbidden passion, produce a gorgeous child. The child is born without A*men's disgusting burnt tar notes -- fortunately, that gene wasn't passed on.

Because the couple had smoked some ganja and eaten some fruit during their first night of connubial bliss, the kid smelled ever so slightly of pot and plums. Roses adorned his cradle.

All was well in Stork Land.

Warm, woody and masculine stuff, but minus the "gasoline" notes of Knize's leather and the price tags of Tabac Blond and REL. Am I comparing it to those giants? Not really -- only marginally, maybe, as it IS a leather frag. But for the guy seeking a "man's man" frag with excellent sillage and very good longevity? I don't know why I'd hesitate to recommend English Leather.

Who said there's no such thing as a free lunch? This inexpensive, complex little Oriental is damn close!

Re-bottle it and slap a niche label on it and few would hesitate to pay a much higher price for it.

Gorgeous for a bargain frag. Perish the thought? I couldn't disagree more.

I find this one almost a dead ringer for Ombre Rose (another great bargain) -- warm and powdery floral that will never go out of style.

I don't know if it's the peach or the ylang ylang (likely the former), but something in this brew is too sweet for my tastes.

I love Création's musky, animalic dry-down (must be the civet note), but the opening half-hour to hour can be and often is devastatingly sweet. A thumbs up, but with that proviso in place.

Spicy, masculine, sharp Eighties powerhouse -- be careful of this sillage monster.

Just as soon as you think it's "safe to leave the water" after the coniferous/bergamot-laden opening blast, along comes the spicy carnation shark on your tail. Cute little cinnamon sharks circle along, and pretty soon the really big fish (moss, vetiver and incense) devour all.

Potent stuff that makes for one helluva swim.

Soft powdery floral, slightly dated and unmistakably feminine. Definitely demure -- not a frag for the vamp.

A great buy, too -- this is what happens when old designer frags stick around 30 years. Ugly bottle, though.

A lovely leather, very much along the lines of the much praised Tabac Blond (but for considerably less $, even at niche prices). There's a floral element here, too, that speaks more of Bellodgia than Tabac Blond, even -- is it carnation? I'd love to see the pyramid on this one.

Goes on very sharp and sweet (perhaps overly so) and soon turns a tad soapy, but then (OH!) it dries down to a gorgeous leather. This is one of those frags that's only marginally unisex, though -- it's like Tabac Blond in that a fellow can pull it off, yes, but only if he's got major globes. (And I do.)

Can't believe that there aren't more reviews of this one yet -- maybe I've pounced upon a real sleeper here.

Foetidus really nailed it -- this is Bois Farine's older brother. I suppose one could add "seafaring" in that description, but the "aquatic" nature of Navegar is truly debatable. There is a green cucumber note here, yes, as well a pepper note for a little "punch." Still, it's all layered over that funny peanut note (what IS that?), with more greens and leather below. Either my nose is terribly unrefined and/or this one's a helluva chameleon.

A big thumbs up for complexity (enigma, even), but longevity COULD be better. Low sillage, IMHO -- this one sits very close to the skin. That's OK, though -- I think that this is a frag best enjoyed in solitude.

Gorgeous frag -- bone dry and ever so tailored. Can't believe that a) it turns out to have been discontinued and b) I'm the first to post any kind of review.

This is (or should I say was?) one of those frags that could easily cross the gender gap. Pity to hear about its discontinuation.

Drakkar Noir and Loewe para Hombre after a night of passionate love-making, their glassy limbs and sprayers all entwined.

An old school Eighties power frag whose cult has plenty of adherents across the board (and in the larger world) for plenty of good reasons. I won't be paying the eBay premium for it anytime soon, no, but can certainly understand why Nobile fans would/do.

Another one of the very few aquatics I can abide, but still nothing I'll ever clamor for. I smell a lot of bergamot here, so much so that I can certainly understand the "soapy" conclusion drawn by 891.

Really a pretty good frag for the price and (to the best of my knowledge) one of The Body Shop's best sellers for years. (And this time for good reason.)

Aside from the brief piquancy of the pimiento and the almost as brief sharpness of the star anise, there's nothing here to distinguish this one from so many other "fresh" fougeres on the market.

Beckham should stick to bending it on the ball field. Then again, perhaps this latest perfumery deal of his -- the one that came out in '07 -- will work out better. (Or not.)

A rose heavy (but not rose dominant) frag for those who generally hate rose heavy frags. No, the emphasis here is a clean and fresh neroli that bursts out of the bottle and puts a smile on your face. This is sunny Spain, soft and warm and romantic -- don't go in expecting Catholic gloom and doom in the Escorial.

n.b.: This one wears very close to the skin and produces relatively low sillage; furthermore, its longevity is lower than that of other Penhaligons frags. Still, a big thumbs up for classic, balanced composition.

Austere? Exactly the adjective I was going to use! Along with Yatagan, Barbier des Isles and Greyland, this is one of those sweet-free, spice-heavy frags that epitomizes masculinity. (No Lutens-esque sugar cones and treacles here!)

Citrusy, dry, coniferous . . . pure stiff upper lip stuff here. Little or no warmth, though -- this frag remains as cool and reserved on the skin as almost anything I can imagine.

Big thumbs up for an English classic.

Ambergris and cinnamon together -- yum! This is a rich and old fashioned frag that -- more than any other Creed I can think of -- is definitively a "love it or hate it" number. (And I love it.)

The ambergris is so strong (think Youth Dew) and the whole effect so animalic yet ancient that I really can't effectively describe either in a few words.

The amber, btw, doesn't come in until considerably later in the frag's progression. The cinnamon (canelle) you smell throughout, but more so later on.

Try before you buy. Try before you buy. Try before you buy.

Green and musky and slightly medicinal all at once, with a strong sillage that isn't to be believed from a non-Millesime Creed.

I'm very fond of cypress-heavy frags, but know that not everyone will be as enamored of them. Do yourself a favor and order a sample of this one first.

Not a tobacco lover? Steer clear then, my friend, steer clear.

This is some masculine, tobacco-laden, commanding juice here, and far better than its modern Millesime namesake -- far better.

Definitely a try-before-you-buy kind of frag, though. I can't see but maybe one in ten liking this frag, especially in this age of aquatic hermaphrodites on the frag market.

A far better blend of vanilla and lavender than Caron pour un Homme, IMHO. Where Caron's rendition can easily become cloying, RSL remains beautiful and complex throughout its dry-down.

The clove adds just the right amount of spice to balance things out, and the amber and sandalwood in the base notes ensure a warm finish.

Damn near perfect.

If Knize Ten is all gasoline, Teutonic sweat and raw leather, then REL is all gorgeous tanned leather (saddle quality) and beautiful English florals. Creamy and snobbish and luxurious stuff -- I can easily see how it's weathered two centuries plus.

Good? Yes. Great? No. I really can't help but like this take on tobacco and ginger, but the original Tabarome is simply so much better. The folks at Creed oughtn't have tried to tame Tabarome -- they should have just made this new one and called it something else.

It's a good frag, yes, but it pales in comparison to the manly British original.

Vibert's posted a top drawer review of this baby below -- I especially like his description of the "sandalwood and vanilla pillow" on which the opoponax rests.

Rich, Byzantine stuff -- the kind of warm and sweet fragrance you can curl up with on a cold winter night. It has a real Eastern incense vibe going on, and also something vaguely gourmand (must be the vanilla).

I for one can't imagine wearing this stuff in warm weather -- it's the olfactory equivalent of winter comfort food.

I have to agree with Randolph314 on this one, folks. As much as I like New Haarlem, I like Rochas Man much better, esp. for the vast price difference.

Stow the snob appeal and grab for Rochas Man.

I'm going to give this puppy a thumbs up rating, but only out of deference to its almost identical fraternal twin, Rochas Man.

A handsome scent in both the frag version and the candle/air freshener versions. Ginger without the sharp edges -- just bright and sparkling and sweet. Unisex? Yes, IMHO. Some guys might have a hard time pulling it off, but only if they're the hardcore, Yatagan/Aramis only types.

Very old fashioned but straightforward take on citrus and vetiver, and (blessedly) free of that MPG "green" house note that so dominates and often ruins many other MPG frags for me.

Very clean, very pure, very unisex, very refreshing.

Not a frag I'll be pining for, no, but one I'll gladly enjoy when I encounter it.

Papery and green, indeed. A really pretty, definitively unisex eau de cologne that makes up in beauty what it lacks in longevity and sillage.

I think that benbenrn has the right idea -- why limit this stuff to flesh wear only? At $40 for 10 oz. bottles at Marshalls, you can certainly afford to use this as linen spray, air freshener, eau de cologne -- whatever you like.

A handsome Continental fragrance with top quality ingredients and possibly addictive qualities. (Perhaps the aoud/oudh in the heartnotes?) Whatever it is, I've not been able to stop sniffing my hand all day!

Interesting use of pepper here -- I almost mistook its slight piquancy for cedar at first. As it dries down, though, it mingles with the vetiver, the oudh and the balsam in wonderful harmony. Grassy, spicy, woody all at once.

A definite keeper.

Playful without being silly - a bouncy little floral that I'd love to smell again after lo these many years.

I agree with the candy comparison, but it shouldn't be thought of as a gourmand -- just a very bright, very feminine floral. I'd love to know the pyramid on this one.

Voluptuousness indeed. Again, I'm not usually a heliotrope fan, but it works here -- it's blended in so artfully that it gives a powdery softness to this floral extravagance without doing it what it often does and stealing center stage.

Amazingly good buy, this one.

Sickeningly sweet hibiscus and jasmine throttling poor amber with all their might.

I've tried desperately to love this frag but cannot, at least not on my own flesh.

I like the amber and am crazy about the tea notes, but they're so obscured by the over-abundance of tropical flowers that it's hardly worth the bother.

Dark? Nay. Cloying? Aye. I'll give this one a thumbs up (believe it or not) just because it IS very cleverly blended and it DOES work so beautifully on others. On Yours Truly, though? I'll pass.

A bright, fresh floral offering that opens with brilliant greens and dries down to a luscious musky base. This is a kissing cousin to Givenchy's Insense, really, and even more distantly related to Paul Sebastian's Brownstone.

Why Rochas discontinued this I'll never know. I assume it was an interim fragrance -- somewhere between the "big power frags" of the Eighties and the watery wimps of the Nineties.

A pity.

Those who are familiar with my tastes in frags will know that I usually deride almost anything labelled an "aquatic." Along with Erolfa, though, this is an aquatic I could love.

I've yet to buy a bottle (or even swap for one); however, I have to admit that I nursed my decant as long as I could. Fresh and clear and almost metallic top notes that (in feeling, if not in composition) put me in mind of Perry Ellis Reserve and also Egoiste Platinum.

An aquatic that (to quote another review, however casually) doesn't suck.

Crisp, classy, Parisian and formal take on citrus. But OH how deceiving the top notes are! Just below the polished surface lies a sexy creature ready to pounce. If you like YSL pour Homme and Chanel pour Monsieur, you'll love Givenchy Monsieur. If you don't, rest assured that you'll most likely despise it. (I for one am firmly in the former camp.)

Hairy chested, grunting testosterone monster all dressed up in patchouli and a $500 cravat. A must have gem for any patchouli lover, yes, but try if you can to get the vintage juice (silver label, cheap looking bottle with silver lid). The new stuff has been tamed down and diluted for the hoi polloi, and (while nice enough) is a pale reflection of the hairy beast its predecessor was. Lots of civet in the old, so civet foes be forewarned.

Easily one of the best juices of the past centuries.

Pleasant vanilla frag along the lines of Le Male and 360 White, with just a nod to Black Code along the way. Cuba Gold also comes to mind.

I bought a bottle (very reasonably) from Thrax and can't say that I regret it one bit. Probably wouldn't go out of my way to get another bottle, no, but fans of Le Male and 360 White really ought to look into this affordable vanilla/tonka frag.

Drakkar Noir? Perhaps a little, but far more along the lines of Loewe para Hombre and Lacoste -- very crisp, green fragrance with magnificent sillage and great lasting power. Not really a frag for jeans and tennis shoes, perhaps, but a fine choice for suits and ties and even black tie.

I just sampled the new Extreme version -- many thanks to Jock_With_Scents. It's a softer, more complex and slightly more powdery version of the original. It veers even more in the direction of Lacoste pour Homme than does the original, IMHO. It also wears a little closer to the skin and doesn't resemble Drakkar Noir half as much. Am debating a purchase of it, but haven't yet decided at $135.00 a bottle.

White bread indeed. Why spend the extra $ for this one when so many good drugstore frags still abound?

Granted, there's nothing offensive here. Come to think of it, there is no here here. Just some pseudo-scientific drivel about "time release technology."
I've got your "time release technology" right here, Lacoste.

"A sweaty man sucking lemons." How utterly uncharitable! (But how very true.) That said, what's the problem here? I find that succinct statement to be an homage, actually, not an insult.

There ARE dirty herbs here. There IS a slight BO vibe going on. There ARE tons of citrus notes to be had.

And the funny thing? It all works together beautifully to create a real Eighties power frag masterpiece.

The only cedar-heavy frag I've ever encountered that can best be described as opulent. This is a rich Oriental, but without the usual heavy florals and sweet vanillas so commonly encountered in that family. Appropriate for both office and formal wear, with very good sillage and marvelous longevity. Probably not the best casual frag in the world; however, that may be just my own judgment that doesn't work for you.

This frag has many detractors; however, I am not among them. While I won't be rushing out to buy a bottle anytime soon, I certainly have to sing its praises.

A clean and staid British frag that would be as at home in a Victorian barbershop as in a 21st century boardroom.

Don't go into this one expecting sex appeal, and don't go seeking revolution here, either. This is a classic bergamot and sandalwood concoction -- very old school. If you like most Penhaligons and most Caswell Massey frags (the reformulated Greenbriar being a clear exception), then you'll likely go ga-ga for the stiff upper lippishness of Douro.

Creamy, sweet and spicy all at once, very much along the lines of Gucci's Envy and Ricci's Ricci Club. A frag better suited for romance than business, though. Excellent sillage; average longevity.

A citrus frag with balls -- period. If you like Eau Sauvage but consider it neutered, try Trophée Lancôme. If you are somewhat fond of Bigarade Concentrée but find it lacking, give TL a shot.

This is bracing, crisp and daring stuff, with sillage for days and massive longevity.

Kudos to Lancôme for having had the common sense to re-introduce this gem onto the market.

I had expected a carnival blast of lively notes, something very like Jazz on acid. What I got instead was a curious melange of mint and citrus, with more mint thrown in for good measure. And then some more.

All in all, not a good match for me at all, as I'm NOT a fan of mint in most frags. (The "mentholated bay rum" notes I've noted in SMN's Pot Pourri are about as close as I come to liking strong, minty notes in my frags.)

I'm going to give this one a thumbs up, but only with the proviso that it stay away from me. It's lovely on others, I'm sure -- just too much mint for Yours Truly.

Enticing. Voluptuous. Decadent. Truly one of Cartier's best (right up there with Baiser, anyway). Not for the timid, though, nor for the woman seeking a pallid little Tommy Girl.

No, this beauty is a full figured French gal who takes lovers and smokes Gauloises in her boudoir after -- this stuff is Catherine Deneuve meets Anais Nin.

Elegant, spicy Oriental with a bright herbal edge. Still, the L'Essence version (edp, if you will) is better in terms of both longevity and sillage. Be careful, though, with L'Essence if you're not a fan of sweet anise.

I agree with Vawallpa -- this is remarkably similar to Obsession Night. As he pointed out, though, the longevity's better. Also, the tonka bean is deeper and the longevity better.

To be honest, this one surprised me a little bit with its lush romanticism and its sexy use of tonka. I had expected pure mass market crap and instead ended up sampling something much, much nicer.

Bizarre take on grapefruit. I really like its crispness, its odd soapy/fruity qualities and its herbal/citrus-y dry-down, really I do. Still, I just can't imagine wearing it. Not many men could pull this one off -- I give kudos to those who can. (And I wear Shalimar.)

A green, fairly bright rose frag that any man can pull off. I don't see it as being at all dark, though, unlike Vibert. No, this is the rose antithesis of #88 and Black Aoud -- it's as clear and fresh and bright as those two are dark and mysterious and somewhat Gothic.

A fascinating frag -- may have to go out and get myself a bottle!

A dirtier, more orange-y cousin of Givenchy's Eau Torride. A handsome frag, and more easily unisex than Eau Torride. Not so much of a "celery" note, either -- that part made me a tad nuts with ET.

Longevity should be better for the price, though.

In many respects, the English cousin of our American Tea Rose (Perfumer's Workshop).

Elegant, understated, soft and sweet. Somewhat powdery in the dry-down, just as I had expected. Never overpowering or soapy, though.

A superb gift for a young lady.

Heady, wonderful stuff -- the stuff that 19th century Orientalist dreams are made of. Warm rose in the middle of all that glorious sandalwood, then a crescendo of amber to tie it all up at the end.

Classic stuff, and (in many ways) the antithesis of Blenheim Bouquet.

The_good_life has it pegged -- this is a lovely and expensive English soap. I'm surprised as hell that this fine, soapy chypre came out in only 1989, as it has a distinctly Edwardian feel to it.

Distinctive, crisp, pure class.

Easily the longest lasting (along with Hammam Bouquet) of the Penhaligons frags for men.

A fine French take on woody notes and citrus. One of the best vetiver-heavy dry-downs out there, to boot.

Very, very old school, yes -- really perfect for those who want a good men's frag sans the "hesperidic accords" and "watery notes" and "ozonic accords" so commonplace among today's weak and synthetic brews.

In the same boat as Kenneth Cole Reaction -- bright, fresh, fruity and relatively short-lived. Paradise is sweeter than Reaction, though, and has considerably less sillage.

All in all, not vile stuff -- just nothing earth shattering, either. There's a good reason this stuff is less than $15.00 per lg. bottle at the nearest Burlington Coat Factory.

What atrac said below -- period.

Smoother and dryer than the original "green" Polo, but with the same coniferous notes and unmistakable masculinity. Why RL discontinued this will go down as one of the greatest mysteries in olfactory history, as it's easily one of the house's best.

And yes, everything you've heard about Jacques Bogart's Chevignon is true -- it's a dead ringer for Polo Crest, or at least really damn close.

Clean, fresh and unbelievably close to the skin. Another well blended, bright and clean office frag that makes a perfect gift for the man who might otherwise eschew frags.

Very good sillage, but don't expect to smell it on yourself -- it's funny that way.

I don't know how RuffDawg gets away with wearing this one, as I find it the quintessence of femininity.

Rich and sensual and extremely complex, with overly sweet fruity top notes that quickly die down and open up into a lush floral. Unlike many florals of its type, though, one finds that the tuberose doesn't overpower. Warm and sexy ambery dry-down that's almost powdery.

Far better than Mackie for Men, which (while pretty darned good itself) had a bit too much basil for my tastes.

Peppery opening with anise following -- not usually a good combination for me. (Anise notes don't usually do well on my skin.) That said, these die down soon and the warm, slightly spicy and very sweet dry-down begins. Moderate sillage and average longevity.

Better than most mainstream frags today, but by no means a classic in and of itself. Translation: don't knock anyone over to grab a bottle. Safe, pleasant frag for clubs and offices alike.

Shalimar's naughty cousin -- she drinks whiskey, wears flapper skirts and tunics, smokes cigars in public, plays poker, dances the Charleston and probably knows all the words to The Internationale. She also sleeps around and has taken numerous lovers of both genders.

Habanita epitomizes the Roaring Twenties with its utter sultriness and intriguing complexity. It's also one of the very few frags out there that can pull off heliotrope without coming across as cloying. Marvelously balanced dry-down, with the tonka bean and tobacco never struggling to take center stage (as they so often do).

The edt version stays fairly close to the skin; however, the perfume has vast sillage and should not be over-applied.

Btw, the Lalique designed black bottle with the nudes in its frieze HAS to be one of the most gorgeous commercial bottles ever created.

I have to agree that this one has superior longevity for a frag of its type. (Most verbena frags are wimpy and pale and peter out early on, only to be copiously re-applied.) A good American fragrance -- solid and simple and straightforward.

A boring, run-of-the-mill lime frag. Quality ingredients? Yes. Reasonably priced? Yes sir. Wears close to the skin/is appropriate for the office? But of course. A fragrance to pine for? Hardly.

A clean, fairly formal fragrance - really very much what you'd expect the gentry of 18th century Virginia to favor. Don't expect to be blown away, though -- this juice lacks in sex appeal what it makes up for in snob appeal.

A classic take on dry sandalwood. This was, I've read, Cole Porter's favorite frag. Very tailored, very clean. (Like Mr. Porter.) Very masculine without being prim. (Unlike Mr. Porter on both counts.)

I agree that it smells like carrot cake. I found it pleasant, yes, but I had swapped for it expecting the incense-laden treasures of the East. What I ended up getting was warm carrot cake.

Nice nutmeg opening, but it's all downhill from there.

A non-descript office frag that's not going to offend anyone at the next meeting of the Sioux City Kiwanis Club.

The class cheerleader we all knew -- blond and bright and sassy and sweet on top, but OH what a slutty little thing once you scratch the surface.

Kingdom is a dirty, nasty, skanky little frag -- anything but safe and politically correct.

The cumin note doesn't come across so much as dark or animalic as it does very like B.O. (in that sexy, primate kind of way). It can be off-putting, granted, but it's well worth it if you like novel uses of cumin. (And I do.)

Exceptionally unisex, and guaranteed to garner tons of comments (if not always compliments.)

What a dirty girl she is.

One of the most interesting takes on lemon in all of olfactory history -- coniferous peaks and creamy notes blended beautifully with a subtle and seductive rendition of lemon. Why Versace ever discontinued this gem of a scent? Hell if I know!

A perennial favorite whose ambery dry-down is well worth the extremely floral top notes and heart notes.

Like its distant cousin Shalimar, this French beauty is a) never out of style, b) still made with quality ingredients in spite of the reasonable price tag, c) unisex up to a point (albeit feminine in the beginning, no doubt) and d) two different beasts in its edt and edp/parfum de toilette incarnations. (The edt has greater sillage on me whilst the edp sticks closer to the skin. The edp's dry-down is woodier and more intense, though.)

A huge thumbs up for the house of Desprez. Now if only Desprez would get off its Gallican -ss and bring back Versailles pour Homme so we could all be supremely happy.

As with Lauder's Youth Dew and Worth's Je Reviens, my favorite form of this frag is (believe it or not) the bath oil. I have one small vintage bottle that I treasure.

Lovely use of violet and sandalwood -- very Twenties, very elegant, very dusty and yet gorgeous at the same time. I see the similarities with Bois des Iles, yes, but My Sin is much softer in its top and heart notes. The drydown is where the similarites really increase.

One word: lush. Absolutely lush. Hands down, far and away the best amber frag I've ever sampled.

Imagine the Montale amber of Patchouli Leaves, but without the vanilla and patchouli of PL competing against it. No, just enough sweet vanilla to balance it out and bergamot to cut the vanilla a tad.

Marvelous longevity and top drawer sillage. Four words to close: must get a bottle!

Bright and fruity, indeed. Far too sharp and feminine for my taste, and with far too little ginger. Excellent quality ingredients, though (as with most if not all Montales), and masterful blending. Just not MY taste.

Montale really should market this one as a berry frag, and should take off the unisex appellation -- unless they're marketing it to drag queens, that is.

Gorgeous take on honey. Imagine, if you will, Lutens' Miel de Bois minus its fierce ferality and woody undertones. This is far better, too, than L'Occitane's weak and watery attempts at rendering a sweet honey note. This is one of those frags whose super sweetness could almost be cloying were it not for the complexities of the drydown and the sheer quality of the ingredients.

A generic, diluted, commonplace and watery clone. (Did I mince any words?)

Effervescent describes this one perfectly -- happy, inoffensive, clean citrus frag. Still, there's nothing stellar here -- just good quality ingredients well blended together. The perfect office or classroom frag.

A luverly amaretto-esque gourmand, with a sweet vanilla to cut the almond notes. I would like it even better had it some spice (some cinnamon, perhaps, or clove), but it's still a damn interesting Montale. Thumbs up, though I likely will save my pennies for Black Aoud.

A beautiful green chypre with solid woody notes thrown in for moderation. Beautifully blended, very much along the lines of Chanel #19.

For at least one reason, I can see why RL discontinued this one. Simply put, it was a fragrance out of its time. It did not fit into the "one size fits all" homogeneity of so many Nineties fragrances. It was lush and feminine and distinctive at a time when Tommy Girl and other bland, bottled banalities ruled the day.

One of the few leather scents I could come to love. I'm not quite there yet; however, I'm still playing around with this (recently discontinued?) Montale.

Very animalic first hour or so, with the leather and the cumin duking it out like nobody's business.

After that, I have to admit that the drydown, while sophisticated, is a bit less than I'd hoped for. It's dry and smoky and masculine, yes, but I guess I had just expected the hairy chested testosterone therapy to continue after the first hour.

Interesting fragrance -- am curious now as to why Montale no longer blends it, or at least features it on the site.

Clever use of vanilla here alongside a superb quality patchouli and a VERY dominant amber. Magnificent sillage and very good longevity (easily 8 hours on my skin).

One of my very favorite cold weather frags, and also one of Montale's more reasonably priced offerings. (Also one of the few sans oud, I might add.)

I have JockWithScents to thank for having turned me on to this gem -- thanks, Barry!

Truly a rose that anyone could love. Simple and straightforward, yet surprisingly complex. The sandalwood adds a great deal more here than you might initially think, and the rose is (again) a simple but true rose that announces itself throughout the fragrance's development. Incredibly good use of oud, here, too. Very medicinal and sharp in the opening, granted, but that's true of almost every oud fragrance ever made.

Easily one of the Top Five in my Montale pantheon.

Light, inoffensive orange-based fragrance that's appropriate for casual wear and office settings alike. Great? No. Good? Yes. Think of it this way: better than Crave, not as good as Eau d'Orange Verte.

I really liked the grapefruit notes and tea accord; they were welcome additions to the original base. The drydown, too, I found muskier and not as spicy as the original -- not necessarily better, mind you, but different and pleasant.

Still, I fail to understand why this one lasts a shorter time on me than Bulgari's original pour Homme. The sillage I think is very good; the longevity maybe not so much.

I have to concur with most of the reviews herein and say that this Bond is a pale reflection of both Silver Mountain Water and (to a lesser extent, granted) Erolfa.

For the price tag, one can almost get two Creed testers of the originals for the price of one Bond No. 9 Hamptons.

I think I'll stick with the Creeds, thanks.

I'm a huge fan of clove frags and so I'd expected a wild and spicy ride on this pony. What I got instead was an average mass market frag whose lack of spiciness was exceeded only by its lacky of complexity and general interest.

I'll pass.

Wading past the hyacinth blast and then the jasmine jungle can be just a bit overwhelming for Yours Truly, it really can. The drydown's well worth the wait, but that first hour or so can be damn near excruciating.

This is definitely a frag to buy in the eau de parfum or eau de toilette strength, as the parfum strength can just about bowl you over.

There is a certain decadence here, a dated but glorious use of tuberose and woody notes in tandem. One of my favorite lush chypres of all time, this one.

I see this as a definitely mature fragrance though, and NOT one for youngsters (i.e., the under 50 crowd in general). Jean-Louis Scherrer projects class and style and panache, granted, but it's still not going to be everyone's cup of tea. Definitely a try-before-you-buy kind of fragrance.

A brilliant and happy frag for bright spring days and balmy summer evenings. Modest sillage and miserable longevity, but well worth the $ if you just want a classic, light eau de cologne. For a little more oomph, steer toward the Concentrée version.

Truly one of Guerlain's best offerings in the last thirty years.

Few hyacinth frags move me much, as do few frags with strong peach notes. Nahéma has enough woody notes and rose to settle these two elements down, though -- to civilize them and to keep them from becoming cloying. Marvelous chameleon of a drydown, with a stunning use of balsam and tonka bean.

This one's just bizarre. Fascinating, yes, but definitely bizarre. It is, I imagine, something that a Goth dandy might wear with an Adam Ant-esque outfit, lacy cravat and all. Very sweet at first, with a dark and woody, violet-strewn path to go down after that.

As fascinating as I find it, though, I cannot honestly say that I'd pay the price that Ford wants for this little gem. For a complex take on patchouli, I can do far better in terms of cost.

A sweeter, less powdery version of Le Male. Not bad, no, but 360 White is a much better alternative to Le Male. (And really a better frag all around, IMHO.) Ghost Man is simply TOO sweet, with a sweet anise edge that simply won't let go hours after application.

I can't in good conscience give it a thumbs up, but will instead compromise and brand it a "neutral" in light of the fact that -- while it doesn't work on me personally -- it's still a well blended fragrance that many other Basenoters might well enjoy.

A rich and spicy Oriental with fabulous chai notes.

Omnia really should be promoted as a more of a unisex frag, IMHO -- a man can certainly pull this one off if he has the guts. Great bottle too -- really fun! Add to all this the fact that Omnia is often VERY affordable and you've got a winner on your hands.

A clean, dry, woodsy office scent -- the quintessence of safe.

(Faint praise is the most damning.)

Marvelously feminine fragrance, opulent without becoming decadent and light without being fleeting. A definite departure from the more usual (read: unusual) fare offered up by L'Artisan, though. Do NOT get this one expecting a cousin to Dzongkha, Timbuktu, or even Bois Farine.

Although I don't agree with Vibert that this one comes across as "tacky" or "trashy" or even "cheap," I must agree with him that it a) can be somewhat cloying and b) lacks any of the sharp green violet notes that I'd expected. There wasn't a hint of bitterness or crispness here, only a very sweet, almost incense-like fragrance whose drydown was far better than its torturous first half hour.

Disgusting? By no means. Unisex? That's debatable. For me? Probably not, though I do find it fascinating in its complex drydown.

Will have to sleep on this one -- in the meantime, it still boils down to a thumbs up, if only for its complexity. That said, I will NOT plunk down the buckaroos for it -- the fragrance, although fascinating, does not (IMHO) merit the absurd price tag.

A true leather scent, no doubt, with just enough brightness to keep it from smelling like a factory showroom floor filled with leather sofas and ottomans. This is a deep, honest-to-goodness leather, yes, but it lacks longevity and sillage alike. I'll give it a thumbs up, but only with that proviso.

A bold floral among the muskier, more oakmoss and sandalwood drenched Eighties power frags. One of the best uses of rose in any men's fragrance to date, and certainly for the price.

Bright at first without becoming cloying; darker later without becoming brooding.

Masculinity personified. Period.

PdH goes on smelling very green indeed, with a good deal of the vetiver coming through much as it does with Route du Vetiver. This is the part where you need to take a breath and give it a few minutes, as this sharp, almost acrid mess of greens begins to dry down into a rich and enveloping sandalwood and leather combination that cannot be described accurately -- only experienced.

DEFINITELY a superb fragrance, you bet. Definitely NOT a safe blind buy, though.

Brilliant composition? No. Rochas' best? By no means. But a pleasant fragrance nevertheless -- a peppery aquatic whose longevity could be better. (Far better than many out there on the market, somewhat worse than many others.)

Great bottle, by the way -- it looks like something straight out of a Flash Gordon flick.

Bright and fresh fragrance, very suitable for hot and humid days when a "pick me up" is needed. The lily is definite but not overpowering. One of C&E's best.

A fine fragrance for women, but an even better oil for home fragrancing. (Some things just work better that way.)

Too sexy for its shirt, this.

Pity they discontinued this erotic drugstore wonder -- it always got the results its owner aimed for.

Laugh all you want, but this sexy and affordable juice has gotten millions of teenage boys laid -- and that's saying a lot.

A simple but old fashioned toilet water, very much in the same vein as others (many of the same name) before it. Think Eau Imperiale with more rosemary and less verbena and you pretty much have it nailed. (The bottle WAS way cool, though.)

A very pleasant but unremarkable take on patchouli. Neither dirty enough to be "hippie-ish" nor sexy enough to be "Givenchy Gentleman-ish" nor spicy enough to be in the same league as Witness nor even old fashioned enough to Madrigal-esque. Just good quality, well blended but fairly plain patchoulis. With alcohol. Period.

Thumbs up, but tentatively so given the vast numbers of great patchouli frags on the market. Furthermore, its discontinued status and exorbitant cost make it unworthy of a serious hunt.

A perfectly lovely drugstore frag -- the perfect choice for a young girl's first perfume. I remember very fondly how my first grade teacher wore this -- she was fresh out of college and it fit her perfectly.

Soft, jasmine-y goodness, with just a touch of lilac. Gorgeous drydown for a frag so cheap and readily available.

May they never decide to discontinue this affordable classic.

Amazing what one can do with cheap musk and denatured alcohol -- one can almost make it resemble perfume.

Velvety, nutty, rich and spicy -- easily Divine's best fragrance to date. The saffron can be a little off-putting right at first; however, the drydown is well worth the first five or ten minutes of smelling like a very nutty paella.

L'Homme Sage is a half-brother to Dzongkha and a very, very close cousin to Mechant Loup. Is it worth the luckyscent price? No, IMHO, it's not. It IS, however, well worth the money if you do what I do and get a large bottle directly from France. (This is what I did with a fellow Basenoter -- made a bottle split and put up with international shipping in order to get the substantial price break.)

Another bland Nineties frag in the same vein as CKOne and Tommy, only with less going on than either.

I had had high hopes for this one given that it has palmarosa (one of my favorites) in its pyramid.

I'm just glad (given my subsequent disappointment) that I didn't spend more on this one.

A*men without the burned tar and scorched cocoa notes. (If you can imagine such a thing.)

Far too sweet a concoction for my tastes, granted, but still far better than that eerily similar Thierry Mugler demon that haunts my nightmares and gives me migraines.

A wonderfully tailored and almost androgynous beauty here. I love the fabulous juxtaposition of the bright, sparkling aldehydes and the dry, seductive sandalwood. Throw in the captivating vetiver in the drydown and you have one helluva classic frag.

I get nothing animalic here -- just pure rose, artfully blended and perfectly balanced. For the price difference, I'd go for the much cheaper Tea Rose, true, but both are too femme for my tastes for everyday wear anyway. (Around the house? Another matter altogether.)

Not my favorite rose frag, no -- that would belong to the original Ungaro III, or perhaps Voleur des Roses. But it's still a damn fine rose scent. Whether or not it's worth the Lutens price tag? I'll leave that one to your discretion.

The leather and iris alike were far too subtle for my tastes and the apricot too sweet and strong -- even the cardamom was overpowered by the fruity notes. Neutral rating.

Who KNEW that Jovan re-bottled its Musk Oil and sold it for $110.00 a bottle (plus shipping)?

What a colossal disappointment this one was, though. I want to give the frag itself a thumbs up, as I've always liked Jovan Musk Oil, but I'm giving it a thumbs down to show my disappointment in having discovered a pleasant but remarkably commonplace white musk being marketed as something special and costly.

A rich gourmand that was sweet on me, yet not cloying. Surprised that Lutens doesn't market this one as a unisex frag (as he does so many others of its type), as it was surprisingly warm and NOT egregiously feminine on me (nor on my other half).

The licorice/anise note worked on me, too, and this is especially odd given my checkered past with that type of note. I think it was the clever use of wood notes that kept the vanilla from getting cloying and the licorice from becoming overpowering.

Thumbs up!

Sweet? Definitely -- typically Lutensesque in this regard. Rich? Yes, just as I expected. Floral? Without a doubt -- enough tuberose here to bowl you over, and osmanthus aplenty. But satisfying? I don't know -- the jury's out on that one. I'll go ahead and give DN a thumbs up, but only with the proviso that I'd have liked it a helluva lot better had I smelled it on a woman instead of on my own skin. IMHO, no guy (however daring) could ever pull this puppy off.

Vidal Sassoon shampoo it is, with enough almonds and cherries to make a marzipan factory worker swoon.

Lovely drydown, though, and yes, ubuandibeme got it right -- very in the Chergui vein.

Wouldn't pay the outrageous price per bottle, though -- I don't like almonds THAT much.

Finally -- a Lutens Orientalist frag without the cloying miasma of treacle and the overwrought loukhum notes. No dates, no raisins, no sugar-crusted schmutzies to get in the way of the amber here.

A sexy, dry and vibrant amber -- not sweet like Montale's Blue Amber, and without the medicinal aoud notes in many of Montale's other ambers.

MPerez is right is his assessment -- this hyah is some sexy-assed stuff.

JDBIII:
I commiserate with you -- this rank sh*t should be outlawed, or at least slapped with a federally mandated warning sticker.

(What WAS L'Occitane thinking?)

By the way, my deepest condolences to your poor sister.

If H.O.T. Always by Bond No. 9 is simply Givenchy's Gentleman re-tooled with a few grassy notes, then Index Patchouli Pure is Gentleman re-tooled with just a bit of added tonka and no (listed) civet.

Wonderful and readily available alternative for those who miss Gentleman in its earthy, sexy, patchouli-laden original form.

Robyogi says it best -- scroll down to read his review.

Seaside? Hardly. Bright greenhouse in the spring? You betcha.

I agree with pluran in that "Black Aoud is ultimately patchouli, oud and musk competing with each other in a frenzied orgy."

I love its sillage and its consistency, but have to admit that I was amazed by its lack of complexity, esp. given the price.

Crisp and warm and sexy winter fragrance -- just ordered a bottle after having smelled it for the first time. It's my favorite cedar frag thus far -- I guess I just prefer incense with my cedar (Tumulte) to lemons (Terre d'Hermes). Call me blasphemous, but there you have it.

Warm and spicy half-brother to Kouros, yes. Not quite as animalic and oily, no, and obviously with a higher price tag. Still, the similarities can't be denied. A very nice Creed for the edt line, with superb longevity and sillage. Avoid, however, if you've always hated Kouros.

Easily one of the very best citrus-based frags ever formulated. Having over-worn Eau Sauvage in my college days, I'm a little wary of citrus frags to start with -- a little usually goes a long way with me.

Nevertheless, I keep coming back to Signoricci time and again. The bright but dry lemon and the woody petitgrain make for a superb combination every time.

Let's just hope the house of Nina Ricci doesn't discontinue this lemony gem -- Ricci already mucked up royally by having discontinued Ricci Club a few years back.

Yet another monotonously "fresh" fragrance that is more about marketing hype than quality or talent. Not bad as these sorts of scents go, I suppose, but by no means an outstanding frag, either. (Faint praise is the most damning.)

One of Polge's greatest, hands down. Goes on very sweet and citrusy, yes, but dries down to a warm ambery sandalwood that is not to be believed.

Probably not the most casual of fragrances, no -- this stuff reeks of tailored suits and boardrooms. (DEFINITE power frag -- right up there with Balenciaga pour Homme, VC&A, Antaeus, Bois de Portugal etc.)

Easily one of the best American fragrances ever created. If you've not tried it, you owe yourself the opportunity.

It may have lemon flowers, you bet, but I get pure orange blossom here. Light and uplifting and complex and heady all at once. The honey notes are especially nice here, but without coming off as cloying.

Definitely NOT like any other Lutens I've smelled to date. A big thumbs-up for FdC.

Baron has it nailed! It's the scent of Chik-O-Sticks! (Those of you from outside the South and/or Southwest may have no clue what Baron and I mean by this. It's a Texan candy made of coconut and peanuts.) A gourmand? Yes, if only at first.

The sweet nuttiness with hints of coconut soons dies down, though, leaving the wearer with a positively delicious sandalwood base.

Highly recommended.

This is pure jasmine at its intoxicating best, with honeysuckle delicately layered on top. Rich vanilla base that clings to the skin long after the sharp sweetness of the initial jasmine is gone.

A slightly bitter, none too sweet take on the overdone grapefruit. Really a great "layering" frag, but not my favorite when worn alone.

I concur with both reviews below.

Nutmeg, anyone?

Rich, decadent stuff. Marvelous late Seventies/early Eighties power frag. Not for gals who can't hold their own, though. (If you want Eighties Lite, try Paris.)

My only regret about Galanos is that I always think of Nancy Reagan when I smell it (he was "her" couturier, after all). Still, this Democrat's very fond of Galanos' (sadly discontinued) juice.

Superb iris, indeed. I am very surprised, though, that no one here has drawn the most obvious comparison yet: Versace's Dreamer.

L'Homme de Coeur is a softer, slightly more sophisticated version of The Dreamer, IMHO, but with four to five times the price tag. None of the tobacco of The Dreamer, granted, nor the sharpness of Iris Bleu Gris, nor the mystery of Iris Silver Mist. Still, of all the iris frags out there, its closest cousin remains, IMHO, The Dreamer.

Great little dry, citrusy-amber frag. Very clean, very tailored, very simple. Wonderful frag for layering or wearing alone, really.

Rich, sweet vanilla. Similarities to JPG's LeMale? Perhaps, yes, but without the migraines and the price tag.

Damn good frag for the price, this!

Lovely lemony-amber goodness, with a drydown that's all about the woods and the vanilla. (It reminds me very of Ungaro II w/o the civet. I can see the Jicky connection, too, albeit with the lavender and civet combo.)

Just got this one in the mail today and can already tell you that it's going to go into a permanent spot in my wardrobe.

Classic old school diva stuff here. Magnificent use of gardenia without coming off as cloying. Very sensual tuberose lingering below the surface.

Very formal frag, but also appropriate for the office if applied with a cautious hand.

Linear but classic and simple. I use this one sometimes to layer with. Great price, too!

Gucci pour Homme and Bois d'Ombrie (minus the famous vinegar note). Throw in a little synthetic incense and we're cookin' with gas, folks.

Good stuff!

Brings back fond memories of the late Eighties. This isn't one I clamor for, no, but I certainly fail to understand the acrimony here on this review page.

It's a pleasant fragrance, somewhat strong and powdery -- very masculine. A tad dated, that's all.

Splendid juice, but sadly lacking in longevity. Very old fashioned stuff, so don't go in looking for aldehydes and synthetic musks and sparkling floral notes. This is earthy, dark, spicy, astringent stuff -- VERY old school. Wonderfully unisex find for lovers of true "old spice."

A delightful chameleon, this green chypre.

R starts out bright and green and clear, very citrusy without being overpowering. It then moves into a spicy carnation middle -- probably my personal favorite in the evolution of it all.

The final dry-down is really special -- masculine and dry without being overly powdery (not too much tonka!) and/or egregiously sandalwood-y.

Hirch_Duckfinder, I owe you one.

I had really expected more from my first Storer fragrance. Perhaps I'll get some Monk and try that, as this stuff really does nothing for me. I kept getting synthetic fruity notes, which is odd as (to the best of my knowledge) Storer claims to use only natural ingredients. Dunno -- weird.

An amazing gourmand -- and those are words I don't use very often together. Superb frag for both office and casual wear alike. Sexy but accessible.

BIG thumbs up, but get it while you can -- Rochas is no more.

Really far better than I expected. (And trust me, my expectations were quite low to begin with.)

A very pleasant little citrus. Andrew's right, btw -- the drydown is somewhat reminiscent of Dior's Dune for Men.

Hate to sound juvenile, but, uh, YUK.

Three words: utter aquatic ennui.

Zizanie by Fragonard, meet a bit of civet. Bit of civet, meet Zizanie by Fragonard.

Dry, powdery, long-lasting stuff -- INSANELY similar (but also superior to) Fragonard's Zizanie. Pity this unisex CSP was discontinued. (I'll definitely be looking for more!)

Gee -- a fruity aquatic in a metrosexual bottle. How very original.

PASS.

Pardon me for snoring in public.

Rich, mature Oriental -- very out of its place and time, though. One would almost think this an early Seventies creation, not a Nineties one. Love it!

A little too much sage for my tastes - this one always came out smelling very pharmaceutical on me. Still, Lord knows it had (and has!) its devotees. I'll give it up a thumbs-up, but only with the proviso that Metropolis and I never got along.

Clean, soapy, feminine white floral -- easily a Lauder classic. Probably a better choice for casual days -- very light, airy and soft.

Ah, for the good ol' days! This feminine powerhouse could eat Acqua di Gio for lunch, and easily polish off Tommy Girl for dessert.

Not anywhere near the caliber of Gentleman or Monsieur, mind you, but not bad considering the era in which it was released. Slightly dry woody frag with spicy touches here and there -- light floral layering above. Will give this one a thumbs up, but with a proviso: don't go in expecting a truly great Givenchy like the frags of yore.

An incredibly good buy that routinely gets kicked in the teeth here on the board. Very crisp, very masculine, very bracing. Outstanding sillage; unbeatable longevity.

I myself get both the soapiness and the much talked about tobacco notes, yes. And guess what? I LIKE them.

Lovely take on Opium pour Homme -- this is to OpH what Shalimar Light is to Shalimar. I get top-rate sillage with this baby, and many, MANY compliments. I also find it far more wearable in warmer weather than its older brother. Like the edp version, this Opium is a horse of a different color -- and I like that!

I agree with IPaidForThisName and Connoisseur to the extent that this one has a real gourmand vibe to it. The lavender and sandalwood help to cut that enough, though, to the point at which I don't smell like bread pudding (Connoisseur's assessment).

Very nice winter frag -- I can't imagine wearing this one much in warm weather. Good longevity and sillage alike.

Nice little inoffensive office frag. Decent use of musk in the dry-down after the sharp, citric opening.

I most assuredly won't be clamoring for this frag any time soon, but I can certainly see why some people like it. It doesn't scream "character" and its name is easy to pronounce, thus it plays well with the same crowd that deems Meg Ryan a comic genius and considers "white Zinfandel" a fine wine.

Great little refresher, but it's just SO much more of a light eau de cologne than anything else. I had a friend who always spritzed this on during flights and afterwards -- she claimed it helped alleviate her jet lag. (I can see why, btw.)

That said, I wish Clarins would release it in a more concentrated form. As it stands, ED is good for light spritzing and amateur aromatherapy and little else, IMHO.

A lovely patchouli, but I wish Etro made it in an edp (or at least edt) strength. (Some longevity issues on my skin -- go figure.) It goes on rather boozy on me at first, then dries down to a spicy middle. The rest of the dry-down is all vanilla and patchouli. It's very similar to L'Artisan's Patchouli Patch, only with far less sweetness and more patchouli itself. I'm with Naed_Nitram in that I probably prefer plain ol' patchouli oil all around.

Gucci pour Homme on holiday in west Africa. Warm woods, spicy peppers and a wonderfully subtle use of frankincense -- by no means the "in your face" frankincenses we're all so used to in other incense-based frags. The patchouli and vetiver provide a stable base and make for an incredible dry-down, too.

A savory sandalwood, with layers of sweet over the savory. A very odd bird indeed. Try before buying.

"Grandma, I don't like fruitcake."
"Go ahead, try some."
"No, the citron is gross."
"Try some."
"But the sultanas are too sweet."
"Try some."
"But the spices are funny."
"Try some."
"But it's gooey, and too rich."
"Try some."
"It smells funny."
"Try some."
"Okay, I tried it, Grandma."
"And?"
"I hated it."
"Oh."

Sweet, rich and complex -- the stuff that Lutens-esque dreams are made of. Not for everyone, though -- I really recommend that you try this one first. It has -- literally -- the truest honey note I've ever smelled. (L'Occitane's is good, but not THIS good!) A must have unisex frag for any Lutens devotee. Magnificent sillage and outstanding longevity, btw.

My first Montale, and all I'm getting thus far is a very rich, very expensive rose and a very good quality sandalwood. I'm enjoying both immensely, yes, but I'm trying to imagine if I might be missing a lot here with my relatively unsophisticated nose.

The violet notes here are incredible -- absolutely marvelous. Wonderful drydown, too, with a heavy emphasis on amber and musk. VERY glad I spent the money!

Delish. Far better than the Caron everyone compares it to, although I can certainly see the similarities. Imagine Royal Bain with better ingredients and far more staying power and projection. This is a bright, vibrant, delectable frag. Unisex? Yes, but be prepared for one helluva floral opening, guys.

Gorgeous, light and airy. Easily unisex, too (as it was meant to be). Easily one of Bond's best.

Far, far preferable in its edp form. The edp is rich and sweet and truly Oriental, while the edt is more about spice and sillage and a certain dryness I can't quite put my finger on. Both are good frags; however, the edp version is a truly GREAT frag.

One of the few "sport" colognes that doesn't make me want to retch. (And that's high praise from me.) It does, however, smell very, very similar to its pater familias, Allure. (I'm just not sure that I'd go to the bother and expense for a bottle of each on my bureau.)

Incredible use of neroli in the opening, and ingeniously (and yet oddly) placed civet and (!!!) vetiver in the drydown.

It's mythic for a reason, folks -- get over it. If you don't like it, fine, but don't knock the great lady without at least giving her her due.

Also, treat her with all fairness in sampling -- everyone should experience #5 in its perfume and EDP form at least once. The EDT version is acceptable, yes, but a pale reflection of the purer form itself. That's funny enough, as I actually prefer Cristalle in its EDT form.

Masculine as hell and not ashamed of it. Still, this is no growling beast on the prowl. This is English gentleman personified -- class all the way.

What amazes me about this frag is its versatility, in that I feel just as comfortable wearing it with khakis and a sweater as I do wearing it with black tie.

Easily one of the best uses of a carnation heart note in any frag out there.

Marvelous take on wood and spice -- undoubtedly Dunhill's second best men's frag. Nevertheless, I'd leave this one alone unless you're a fellow clove fanatic, as the clove note is QUITE strong in this little puppy. If, however, you ARE a fellow spice fan (and no foe of the clove), grab a bottle before Dunhill decides to discontinue it. (This IS the kind of frag that "marketing specialists" are loathe to keep around, as it certainly doesn't smell like air freshener and appeal to the Tommy generation/emo crowd.)

Better than many aquatics, but that ain't sayin' much. Good staying power, I suppose.

Can you tell that I'm pretty much neutral on this one? I'm going to bed now.

CologneJunkie says it best: Hugo or some such nonsense, with a none-too-lovely drydown of cheap deodorant soap. The PERFECT gift this Christmasolstihanumas for any relatives you love to hate (and vice versa).

Pluran says "libidinous." Robyogi says "libertine." May I add the plebeian but ever so appropriate "nasty" here?

This is by far the sexiest of the three Ungaros, hands down. Be forewarned that the civet note is VERY pronounced, and Ungaro II may well go on your skin smelling distinctly fecal for the first twenty or more minutes.

Marvelous blend of crisp (but not overly bright) citric notes, downright opulent vanilla, delectable rose and (of course) the all too famous civet. Indisputably a "must try once" kind of frag.

Dirty, earthy, opulently masculine take on Vetiver. No citrus here. No cloying sweetness. No stale tobacco. This is dirty, sexy, bold and rustic vetiver at its (pardon the pun) root.

Top notch stuff? You bet. For the faint of heart? Not on your life.

A dreadful floral mess on me -- rather like mildewed bouquets thrown upon my head and shoulders. Gloria Swanson probably wore something very like this in Sunset Boulevard. Miss Haversham might also have worn something very similar in Dickensian England.

I can see this working on others, but not on Yours Truly.

Grey Flannel in a tuxedo, liberally sprinkled with orris root.

Good juice!

A horrid mess on me -- it smells as though I've slathered myself in Miracle Whip and basil. Dreadful, dreadful stuff. At best, it could be said that this stuff (for me) ranks right up there with Thierry Mugler's Alien as the weirdest frag I've ever smelled on my skin.

Great stuff, I suppose, if you're hankering to smell like chopped salad with Italian seasoning.

Seductive? Not for me. Inviting? Hardly. Warm? Yes, but only in the most unusual of ways.

I love this fragrance; it's currently my third favorite L'Artisan (just after Tea for Two and Dzongkha). But still, I just can't wear it. I can't. For some inexplicable reason, it's quite literally enough to make me want to open a vein. That's right -- melancholia in a bottle. Weird -- very weird. Warm, rich nutty notes sprinkled with honey, and a very intimate drydown as the fragrance hugs my skin.

I bought a bottle earlier this year and had to sell it -- I just couldn't wear it without wanting to break into tears. Méchant Loup is, for me, a warm sweater in a cold cemetery. Comforting, yes, but altogether too much of a reminder of where I am.

My favorite L'Artisan frag to date -- spicy, rich, sweet tea with honey. Definitively unisex; absolutely timeless. Far, far superior to the host of cloying and synthetic "tea" offerings on both the men's and women's frag markets today.

Cheap? No. But certainly worth shelling out a few greenbacks for. This one is on my Christmas wish list for 2007 -- and I damn well better get a bottle.

Complex and splendid -- easily one of L'Artisan's finest creations. Along with Yatagan and Polo, Fou d'Absinthe is one of the very best pine fragrances available.

I dare not use very much, though, as it's quite strong (and a touch expensive). Well worth every penny, granted, but still too expensive to run through as I do my Yatagan.

Interesting drydown on this one -- very much so. From the sharp and warm coniferous notes into a coy and very interesting set of licorice-y notes (must be the absinthe) mingled with ginger. Lovely.

Marvelous staying power and incredible sillage in this spicy, patchouli-laden bargain of a frag! Take my advice (and the advice of Thrax and knightowl before me): get a bottle. Keep a bottle. Love a bottle.

Easily one of the best bargain frags on the market today.

A fine dry fougère. More than a touch soapy, and very formal. Very, very French, and a little dated (not that there's anything wrong with either of those things). Probably not suitable for anyone under 30. No, make that 40 and impeccably dressed.

"Shogun," I've decided, must be Japanese that's been translated into the French and come out meaning "boring as hell."

This one masquerades as a member of the Oriental fragrance family and yet should be proud to stand alongside the best of the most mediocre in that teeming horde of "fresh, aquatic" men's frags out there.

Save your money for a GOOD Delon, such as Delon's Original (AD) and/or Iquitos -- leave this one for your building super or your teenage nephew.

A bright, transparent fragrance that's very suitable for casual wear and office wear alike. Nice use of juniper, and super longevity.

It's definitely a cousin to Himalaya, yes, and a wonderful alternative if you don't feel like shelling out the bucks for Creed.

There's always a bottle of XS on my bureau. I've yet to try the Extreme version; however, I may just continue to avoid it given the reviews.

Comes as close as anything I've yet smelled to the original Burberry for Men (long, long discontinued). Still, the spice is not quite the same, nor is there the same warm drydown and magnificent longevity. It seems a rather cheapened version of the original, with some less expensive spices thrown in to cover up the fact. But I'll give it a thumbs up just because it reminds me so much of the original. (Oh, and the tartan-covered bottle's kinda cute.)

Awfully boring tutti-frutti syrup for such a big price tag.

Viktor & Rolf need to put on their big girl panties and come up with something other than these treacle-covered blossoms of theirs.

Rouse me when this bad dream's gone.

To THINK that a house that could give us such greats as Ungaros I, II & III AND such a marvelous frag as Diva could produce this watery, fruity drivel.

Don't waste your money on this apparition -- it'll probably scare you as much as it did me.

A remarkably formal offering from the house of Dior, yet by no means staid or starched. A very distant, aloof sort of frag, with a strange but intriguing iris heart layered with rich gourmand scents above.

Superbly blended frag, with none of the commonplace, boring "aquatic" and "fresh" notes one sees in nine-tenths of all mainstream frags introduced these days. Still, I don't know that Dior Homme will soon be on my wish list. I have enough formal frags as it is, and think I shall just stand back and admire this one. It's the sort of frag I'll spritz on when I go to a Sephora, but not a huge priority for me right now. Now Jules, on the other hand . . .

I'll be blunt -- I heard the name and instantly turned up my nose. (Celebrity frags usually have that effect on me, so I'm instantly prejudiced.)

It goes almost without saying that I'm awfully, awfully glad I listened to well informed fellow Basenoters and sampled this juice -- this is really good!

Goes on very fruity and spicy (strong apple notes in the opening), but it dries down quickly to an invitingly warm heart and base. An incredible bargain, too!

Very feminine frag here, and consistently in production since 1968 for all the right reasons. Still, Estée MUST be worn lightly, else its monster sillage can/will clear a room in no time flat. I wish that EL had a "light" version of this one readily available.

Tar notes usually make me sick, and yet I love them in this warm, musky, masculine frag. Pitiful that it's been discontinued -- it was always the best of the Versace "Jeans" frags.

Sharp, crisp and melancholy use of lavender here. I see blustery moors and snow-covered hills when I wear Gris Clair - it's not a warm and fuzzy frag, no. It's pure wintertime crispness, with no prettified edges.

Very rich, very full gourmand, with an emphasis on the "rich." I sampled this with the perfume extrait version and it simply blew me away in its depth and complexity -- and I'm not usually a fan of gourmand fragrances.

This is a sweet, dark black brew, though, so don't go for it expecting creamy or mild. Also, it's probably not a good choice for those who avoid ambrette, as the ambrette notes here are quite distinct.

Everything that foetidus said -- LITERALLY. It's not that I'm too lazy to write a review here -- it's just that he said everything I would have, save perhaps praising the incredibly low price for such a good frag.

Far preferable to Paco Rabanne in every way. (PR w/o the sweet soapiness that I find so choking.) A quintessential Eighties frag all around, yes, with a bright bite of carnation and a ruggedly masculine, leathery/mossy drydown. I've yet to try the "haute concentration" version, but I keep seeing it from time to time. Any opinions on it out there in Cyberville?

Foetidus was quite correct in saying that this is a tamed version of Opium pour Homme. I'd heard Mario Justiniani praise this one before, but I'd never tried it until last year (blind buy off eBay for me, too).

Wonderful floral heart after the opening, and an incredible Oriental drydown with lots of amber.

Cool "inkwell" bottle, too, although a bit awkward in terms of size.

Lovely use of cinnamon and benzoin. A very true Roman-style incense, too -- I can honestly see this stuff billowing out of a censer during a High Mass. Don't come expecting frankincense, though. (A welcome change from every other incense frag in the world.)

A must-have for fans of cinnamon -- bright and clear and crisp without ever being sweet or cloying. One of my very favorite frags for the holiday season, albeit perhaps a bit liturgical for everyday office use the rest of the year.

Butter and musk. Musk and butter. I'm serious -- that's what I get here. It's almost a savory gourmand on my skin -- well, if you want to eat butter and musk, I mean. Of all the frags I've sampled, I've found that only Santa Maria Novella has produced a musk (its Muschio) that seemed so virtually edible. Still, SMN's version is sweet and creamy, while this one is masculine and powdery while at the same time seeming exasperatingly gourmand. Far more wearable a frag for most, IMHO, than the dirty leather-plum boy, Cuiron.

Bright, cheerful use of grapefruit -- one of the best citruses out on the market. NOT a frag for curmudgeons and /or dark, Goth-y artist types, at least not those who want to maintain a certain grumpy persona.

Very appropriate for office wear and casual use . Top rate longevity for a citrus frag, too.

I know of a number of women who prefer this to the women's version, btw, and can certainly see why, as the strong citrus notes don't get overpowered by any florals.

Wonderful when layered with Gaultier2, btw -- trust me on this one. Discovered this by fluke one day, and have never regretted it for one second.

Sexy as hell; daring as can be. Definitely not for the amber-phobic, though -- what starts off as rich, sweet vanilla (vanilla of the Chergui and Liquid Karl variety, almost, but minus any spice or sharpness) soon turns the show over to a warm, sexy amber.

It doesn't take much in the way of guts for a guy to pull this off; however, it is probably not an appropriate office frag for button-down types. (It's pretty romantic stuff.)

Also one of the coolest bottles (albeit one of the kitschiest and most gimmicky) in recent history.

Btw, this juice is (just ask CologneJunkie) positively de-LISH when layered with Happy for Men by Clinique.

The iris grounds this one beautifully, but is not so earthy and dominant as some irises.

Couple that (the iris) with a strong use of incense notes and you have a delicious combination -- smoldering incense and charcoal on an open, damp piece of fragrant earth.

This one truly is a journey unto itself, though, much like Mechant Loup. Perfect for pensive moments and quiet days alone or with a single loved one.

Definitively unisex, no matter what you've heard. But be prepared for a very green citrus, and avoid it altogether if you're not a fan of hawthorn.

I happen to like it very much, but I thinned it out of the herd recently because I had a surplus of citrusy frags on my bureau.

Mediocre longevity, but an incredible drydown nevertheless. Far more complex than most citruses, which can be very linear.

Again, don't worry about the gender thing. If you can pull off Eau Sauvage and/or Neroli Sauvage, there's no reason you can't pull off this one.

This one's like Third Man and Yatagan alike in that you MUST give it a full hour (minimum) before you judge it.

Luscious use of vanilla here, although the lavender blast at the opening can certainly overpower the vanilla at first.

Powdery? Yes. Old fashioned? You bet. (Surprisingly, though, we see vanilla prominently used in men's frags again these days.)

I cannot see why Caron never marketed this one as unisex, though -- its soft, rounded corners and warm vanilla and sharp lavender should appeal to both genders equally, IMHO.

A bit of a conundrum, this. It's an aquatic -- no, wait, maybe not. It's a gourmand? Yes but no.

An odd vanilla bird in my collection. My husband wears it far more often than I do, and it's incredible on him. It seems to go back and forth between the edible and the "fresh" in the oddest of ways. For me personally, it's a warm weather frag only. For him? Oh, no -- he wears it no matter the temperature.

I can see why this one has a strong following on Basenotes -- it's quite pleasant, not to mention long lasting, and it's not just another boring aquatic clone -- by no means.

Crisp ginger and musk. Nice, but OH so boring.

Give me Blu Notte with its powdery notes any day of the week. Better yet, give me Fred Hayman's Indigo for a fraction of the price of even Notte.

Once in a while I get a craving for chicken gizzards. It may come in the middle of the night; it may come in the middle of a meeting with a client. Don't ask me why, but it just comes upon me like some kind of secular Damascus Road experience, and I just CRAVE greasy, gristly, Southern fried gizzards. Then, the rest of the year, I go without and even turn my nose up at the sight of these little gnarled monstrosities.

AG's Sables is (gee, you guessed it) no different for me. Once in a blue moon, I just BOLT for Sables, then I go around in a frenzy all afternoon sniffing my forearms and wondering why I doused myself in this bitter herbal mess. Nevertheless, my curiosity aside, I love Sables, if only for that one day. The rest of the time, I stick it back until the craving comes again, and then I know that I must feed the craving else go mad.

This is some twisted stuff, Sables -- and I love it and hate it and puzzle over it all at once, all the time.

If Musc Ravageur is the seduction, then Chergui is the conquest.

Fireplace conquest, though, not savage back alley stuff. This is romance in a bottle -- sweet, syrupy vanilla in which to douse your lover and eat him/her up.

Perfect juice for rainy days, honeymoons and other events that call for crackling flames, glassfuls of Bollinger, and lots of Luther Vandross in the background.

Romance in a bottle.

The only pure musk frag in my collection. An almost edible affair, this -- very sweet at first, very creamy, very seductive.

Timeless; unisex; damn near perfect.

Syrup? I don't get "sweet" at all. This is a lovely vetiver frag with tons of wood and mint -- very refreshing, very Provencal. I can't believe it doesn't get more play here on the board.

I can't remember the last time I got this many female compliments -- this stuff MUST have pheromones in it!

Goes on smelling very like Eternity (NOT my favorite!), but dries down to a sexy, musky base that's almost transparent.

Incredible longevity and monster sillage -- do NOT over-apply this Canadian edt.

Perfect for fans of the gourmand. A little out of character for L'Occitane, though, I must say.

The vanilla here is not entirely gourmand, mind you -- it's (to my nose, anyway) the sexy, floral vanilla mixed very nicely with the tasty variety.

I put it on my swap list because I, try as I might, just couldn't make it work on my skin -- unisex it wasn't. (Not that it was ever meant to be.) Give me my Shalimar edt and I'm in the vanilla place I need to be.

Who would ever have thought that I'd choose a blackberry and musk combo? I never would have thought it, not in a million years.

Warm and sweet w/o being girly; extremely pleasant drydown; top-notch longevity and very good sillage.

One of my favorite L'Artisans.

Macho? Yes. Dirty, dirty disco boy -- big Eighties powerhouse who's forgotten that disco is dead. I've smelled better; I've smelled worse. A good choice if you like big bad bruisers who speak loudly and come cheap.

Pluran's right -- Tea for Two it ain't. Still, you can't beat it for the price, either. I wear Yang about once every two weeks, and its musky tea scent stays with me an incredible length of time. Yang always garners me tons of compliments as well. Oh, and its bottle is remarkably cool, too! FAR more wearable than Green Water, btw. I like GW well enough, true, but good for everyday wear? Not so much.

Along with Baie de Genievre, Witness has one of the most masterful uses of cinnamon out there. And it's not the cheap, mass produced Cinnabon variety, either -- this is spicy, warm cassia for very little money. A bit of a patchouli monster, granted, but that's QUITE all right with me. I've gone through four 1 oz. bottles of this stuff in one year alone, and will keep buying it so long as I can keep getting it for the small price I have to pay for this idiotically discontinued little treasure.

Yummy bread pudding in a bottle, all buttery and dripping with a zillion calories. Syrupy, warm, spicy, almost freakishly gourmand. (I wanted to eat my own freakin' arm.)

I'm not a huge fan of the gourmand clan, though, so it's off to the chopping block with this bad boy. Bye bye, bread pudding!

Sexy but not sultry. Bright but not cheerful. Spicy but not piquant. Exotic but not outlandish. In a word: PERFECTION.

Truly proof positive that Guerlain's greatest strength is and has always been its masterful use of vanilla.

I can see Shalimar on just about any woman over 18, and I cannot imagine a world without it.

It can easily be a unisex frag, too, as I can personally attest. It's very spicy on my skin, and not at all cloying or overly sweet. I'd probably shy away from the eau de parfum or perfume, yes, but the edt suits me perfectly.

Get a bottle. Keep a bottle. Pass it on.

Bright, crisp floral. Pleasant but not outstanding -- Givenchy's done far better work. A "sporty, unisex" kind of frag -- so perhaps I'm prejudiced here. (Not exactly my favorite family of frag. I'm an Eighties wood/spice/patchouli powerhouse kind of guy in most things.) This one's great for those who love florals, yes, but I'd recommend Insense over this for any guy who wants a Givenchy floral that's bright and clear and extremely wearable.

Bone dry vetiver with hints of verdant island fields. Crisp and sharp and impeccable -- definitely what I'd consider a "tailored" frag. I think of some stiff upper lippish Brit getting an old fashioned shave in Bermuda when I put this one on. (GREAT frag for warm climes, btw -- refreshing w/o being cloying -- it's ANYTHING but cloying.)

It's vetiver sans the dirtiness (Route du Vetiver), the tobacco (Guerlain's old formulation) the strong use of wood with vetiver (Molinard I) and the bubbly citrus (Guerlain's new formulation). Thumbs up, yes, but with the proviso that this stuff is very dry and VERY vetiver.

One of my newest mainstream favorites. To be honest, I'd been expecting more mass-produced sh*t from Burberry when I first sampled this one. (London and Brit are just "OK" in my book -- good enough, but by no means great. I'm old school -- I love the long discontinued original, something which I can just barely detect traces of in London. But I digress.)

Touch is very warm and musky -- a great violet note, too, without overpowering (as Grey Flannel, Halston for Women, and other violet frags can do all too easily).

I get tons of compliments from members of both sexes when I wear this one. I swapped Lightninrod for a big bottle a few weeks back, and I've not regretted it since.

Earthy? Yes. Dirty, though? No.

Very dry and woody patchouli -- do I detect a little bit of myrrh here, too? Not your hippie uncle's patchouli, no, but also not the sweet, dandified patchouli that is L'Artisan's Patchouli Patch, either, nor the fleeting booziness of Etro's Patchouly.

Thumbs up in spite of the dryness -- some will like this very much. I want something a little dirtier, myself, but will enjoy this bottle until it's gone.

Give this one a chance before you reject it as being all clove with a touch of tobacco -- it's not. The drydown takes a while, though. Expect dry but warm wood in the drydown, as well as hints of tobacco peeking out at the oddest times.

The clove notes will bowl you over at first, though, so be prepared to smell like clove oil for the first ten minutes or so.

I've found Kretek SUPERB for layering, btw, esp. with warm, musky frags.

Wow -- who would ever have thought to create a lavender-based Oriental???

It certainly works, though, with the spices and patchouli ever present just below the lavender topnotes.

Nice, nice stuff -- a little pricy, but worth it. Definitely unisex, too.

Funky, Deco-ish bottle on top of a deep, warm, smoky floral scent. The poor man's Antaeus, indeed! Good stuff -- well worth every penny and then some. Perfumania has the best price I've found.

Everything that foetidus said below -- PERFECT analysis there!

Marvelous scent -- truly one of the very best out there. Imagine Bois de Portugal with a more powdery drydown and just a touch less citrus. SPLENDID opening and wonderful drydown period. Lasts a very long time, too, and has superb sillage.

Testosterone in a vial. Rich, wonderful, heady, masculine stuff. Definitely NOT for the weak and indecisive.

A tad stuffy and British for some, but very nice woody fragrance all around, IMHO. Can be had reasonably, too. Good silllage and longevity on this one, btw.

Rich, warm, gentlemanly. Still can't believe that Desprez would ever have yanked this lovely stuff off the shelves. Let us all pray litanies loud and long to the Great Perfume God/Goddess that he/she persuade the folks at Desprez to bring this gem back into production!

Easily one of the best Orientals for men on the market today.

If you're going to get it, though, spend the extra $ and get the EdP version -- you won't regret it.

The heliotrope topnotes are intoxicating, and the ambery rich vanilla drydown is one of the best I've ever encountered, no doubt about it.

You're both right -- THIS is what 4711 SHOULD have smelled right! Sparkling. Effervescent. PERFECT summer scent. Likely not too long lasting on others, either, true that. But ANYTHING'S more long lasting than the much hyped (and utterly worthless) 4711. Imagine that which is nice in 4711 (and there is some, yes) and magnify it and make it better quality. There you'll have Sologne.

Here's what I get, pure and simple: M7 mating with Bellodgia. I can't get any more succinct than that.

Marvelous fig scent -- can't really believe that I like this one so much! (Aside from Philosykos, I normally hate fig notes, esp. as embodied in Salvatore Ferragamo pour Homme.)

There's a citrus note here that's incredibly balancing to the sweetness of the fig, and a crispness that's usually overpowered by a cloying quality. Very nice stuff, indeed, and well worth every penny.

Actually a very pleasant fougere, with lots of lemon and musk behind the scenes. It seems a bit dated to me (and that's a compliment). Some synthetic notes? A few , perhaps. Still, you could spend your money on far worse modern creations. I for one am giving this one a thumbs up.

If you want Dunhill's very best, get the '34 Original or the '84 Edition, true. But this stuff from 2003 is nothing to sneeze at, and is far, far, far superior to many (if not, in fact, most) of its contemporaries.

A definite must-have for the connoisseur of Visit and Gucci PH in that Rush shares that same distinct woodiness with both scents. It's not as dry as Visit, no, nor as distinctly cedar-y as Gucci PH, but it's still woody all the way. There's a soft musk note that develops into the drydown to soften things up, and the much discussed incense note for just a touch ("just a touch" being the key phrase here) of sweetness.

It's one I like very much, yes, but not one that I'm "rushing" out to buy.

Rich, powdery, formal scent. Probably better for those 25 and up. Great office scent -- long lasting, but not overpowering. Still not the frag that Jaïpur is, no, but a damn good one nonetheless.

One of my Grandma's favorites. Very powdery; somewhat dark. I don't get the "kerosene" note at all. Think that longevity is a bit of an issue, but am not sure. (I've never worn it myself, but think that a man COULD pull it off if he had the confidence.) The juice itself is certainly reasonable enough.

VERY green opening on me -- very sharp, highly assaultive at first. Then (very quickly) the drydown begins -- a warm, complex, coniferous melody. Discontinued or not, I can still find this classic at my local TJMaxx and Marshall's for $9.99 a bottle.

My other half likes it a lot, too, and, like me, he's worn it for over 20 years now. We have made a little mini-cache of the stuff in case it ever becomes utterly unavailable again. (Now, if only we'd done the same thing with Havana . . .)

Lauren's rich English cousin. Deep and rosy and bright all at the same time. Wish this one got more play here on Basenotes!

They talked about arid Mexican deserts.
I smelled lemon and earth.
They wrote volumes about patchouli.
I smelled lemon and earth.
They passed around flacons full of this stuff, and daubed it on their wrists.
I smelled lemon and earth.
They dubbed it "a masterpiece."
I dubbed it "lemons and earth."

Couldn't help but like this stuff, true, but it was not at all what I expected. I had expected an earthy, dark, meaty scent, and I basically ended up getting a holistic, vegan, burlap-clothed version of Eau Sauvage.

Last time I heard, the ever earthy Terre d'Hermes had moved into a co-op in Eugene with some chick named Alice Sky Tuesday. The two plan to open a tofu factory and start an Indigo Girls fan club.

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a fair princess.

One cold and foggy night, the princess walked around the castle walls wearing her brother's galoshes. Upon returning home, the fair princess doffed the galoshes and placed them in front of the fire.

She waited and she waited and she waited for the boots to finally get warm on the hearth. Once the galoshes were toasty, the princess walked over and smelled them to make certain they were thoroughly dry. They were, in fact, quite dry by now, but oh! how they stank of black rubber and leather. Well, the clever princess simply picked up a bottle of Worth's Je Reviens and poured its contents straight into those royal rain boots.

The smell that arose from her brother's galoshes was so completely annoying and yet so utterly intoxicating at the same time that the princess knew what she had to do. She called the royal perfumer in to duplicate this most bizarre of scents, and thus Dzing! was born.

The moral of this story is simple: don't pour Je Reviens into hot rubber and leather galoshes unless you want to smell Dzing!

(Fairy tales aside, I happen to love Dzing!, but it's much in the same way that I love Rob Zombie movies and gefilte fish. That is to say, I have to really be in the mood for it. Dzing! is Bulgari Black's somewhat cruel and very bohemian cousin, and he bears deep grudges against anyone who's ever worn Tommy.)

Potent stuff, and definitely NOT for those who eschew heavy doses of lavender. (The opening sprays are akin to cannon fire, not cologne.) But give it time to dry -- PLEASE. This is one scent that will either grow on you (as it has on me) or be put up for swap very soon. (As with A*men and other frags, there seems to be no middle ground on this one.)

The sandalwood used here is positively bone dry, but the opopanax helps give it more depth in the drydown. The cedar notes may bother some twenty or thirty minutes into the drydown, so be forewarned. (They don't bother me, but I know how many folks are with cedar.)

A good, solid, old school men's scent all around, but will have its definite detractors in the "Tommy Generation."

Still fairly available even though discontinued.

Lush and dark and (surprisingly) both casual and formal at the same time. But n one here has, thus far, picked up on what I smell in Davidoff -- a wild, almost sweaty sexual abandon that others always attribute to Musc Ravageur. This is an almost feral scent I'm talking about, rather like a civet, or very like the uber-masculine ferality many (rightfully) see in Muscs Koublai Khan.

Whatever it is that I'm smelling (and I like it!), it renders this scent (at least for me) unwearable except in the most, eh, compromising of situations. NOT a frag to wear when Sister Mary Annunciata comes by to pick up charity donations for St. Vincent de Paul, if you know what I mean, and far too randy for even a Neighborhood Association meeting. No, this is definitely a rich, decadent, "down and dirty" sweaty sex scent, or at least a damn good cruising smell. (In my book, anyway.)

Very fresh, but very dry. Definitely a kissing cousin of Monsieur de Givenchy, yes. Glad they've never discontinued this one, for -- although I might only wear it five or six times a year -- it is still a personal favorite. (I'd at least put it somewhere in my Top Fifty.) I really associate this one with the Eighties -- it was sort of the antithesis of the Eighties "power scent," but not because it was weak, or anything like that. It was just very clean and soapy and fresh, without being "fresh" in the evil, monotonous, boring TommyAcquaEternity kinda way. A GREAT scent for younger guys.

Really like this scent, yes, but it's pretty hard to track down and -- for the price -- I'll get its American cousins much cheaper. This one smells just like a hybrid of Liz Taylor's Passion for Men and Aramis Devin, really it does. It's a very pleasant hybrid, yes, but that's exactly what I'm getting. There's a slightly sweeter, spicier edge here than in either of the two aforementioned frags, yes, but only marginally so. Good stuff? You bet. But worth the hunt and the price? I dunno -- can get both Passion for Men and Devin pretty reasonably stateside.

Goes on very feminine -- at least on my skin. Smells at first like a hybrid of Estee Lauder's Aliage and Private Collection, believe it or not. (At least on me, that is.) You can definitely smell the petitgrain for the first 20 minutes at least -- very sweet.

Dries down to a beautiful, deep muskiness -- hard to describe. (Smells little like it did going on.) Sadly, almost no longevity on me. Wouldn't care so much were it not almost $300.00 USD for a 1.7 oz. bottle.

Much as I like it, it WON'T be on my Christmas list -- that same money would buy me three bottles of Havana Reserva, or three (tester) bottles of Bois de Portugal.

Thumbs up, but only from a purely critical point of view.

One of my top ten favorite scents of all time. (Yes, it ranks right up there among the Bois de Portugals and the JHLs.)

Should they ever discontinue this spicy classic, you can rest assured that I'll be lined up to buy every bottle I can find before the price skyrockets. Fortunately, Halston seldom discontinues a scent. (I can think of only two or maybe three the firm's ever sent packing.)

Rich and warm and spicy -- the clove and nutmeg really make this one enticing. Definitely a cold weather frag, though -- not for those who want to spend their winters wearing Bermuda shorts in Boca Raton.

Consistently nets a massive number of compliments for me, too -- hell, vanity alone would dictate that I keep wearing this wonderful stuff even if I didn't like it so darn much!

I wouldn't describe this one as juvenile, no. It's a very sexy scent, IMHO -- much lighter than the original and soft in a musky kind of way. Might be more appropriate for a younger woman, yes, but certainly not "juvenile."

Don't see this one much anymore, although it appears to be in production still.

I have a definite love/hate relationship with this puppy. I mean, on one hand, it's a rich and woody scent that (IMHO) could be classified as unisex. (Also, along with Youth Dew and Tea Rose, it remains a perennial favorite for making sachets and drawer liners around my house.) But all that aside, the violet notes can -- and sometimes do -- just bowl me over. (WOW -- talk about cloying!) I still keep coming back to this one, and often buy it for my aunt (she loves it even more). Still, the first 30 minutes after application always make me want to put a clothespin on my nose. Weird.

The proof is in the pudding with this one, folks. If you haven't tried it, get a small bottle -- it won't break the bank. Starts off fresh and clean (without attempting anything "aquatic" or "grapefruit-y" -- just brisk and clear), then works into a wonderful mix of spice and wood. Lasts a long, long time, too, but without overpowering. A definite power scent -- not for anyone who wants yet another mindless automaton from the Tommy milieu.

Damn good stuff.

Bracing tonic of a fragrance -- perfect for those who love lemon, gin & tonic, and other clean, brisk scents. I don't wear Green Water more than five or six times a year, but I genuinely love it. It's a definite summertime fragrance, at least in my book. (I need to wear this one more often, come to think of it!)

NIIIIIICE . . .

It's very seldom that I genuinely like soliflores (CdG's Red Carnation a possible exception). But this one -- esp. for the price! -- I love, and have always loved. I use it for my sachets and closets, as no guy could ever pull this one off (wearing it, that is). No, when I want to don a rose scent, it's going to be Ungaro III or Iquitos. But Tea Rose is a great scent for women, and (again) an incredible scent for home use.

Pretty sweet deal for the money. Let's say, for example, that Guerlain's Vetiver is too earthy and/or citrus-y for you, and CdG's Vetiverru (sp?) is too avant-garde. Carven's is too medicinal and downright nasty (IMHO, and probably yours), and budget is an issue (i.e., sure as hell ain't gonna be Malle's divine Vétiver Extraordinaire.) Voila -- it's Vétiver de Puig!

Damn good juice for the low price.

By no means the best of Escada's creations. (Give me Escada PH and/or Magnetism any day over this one.) Still, it's not bad in a warm, wintery, peppery, synthetic kind of way. Doesn't last more than three hours on me, though, and gives off only modest sillage.

In short, am giving this one a thumbs up, but only because I can't say I hate it.

I'd love to have another bottle of this stuff, yes, but can have a nice Diptyque or Villoresi for what one bottle of this (discontinued) juice often goes for on eBay.

I found this one very brisk and spicy, with a warm, mellow musk "dry down." It was one of my favorites my senior year in high school, but (gulp!) that was over 20 years ago now.

A watered down version of the original classic. Bring up "Alba roses" all you will -- I find this one bland alongside the great original itself.

A light fragrance, and one which truly "sparkles" every bit as much as champagne. Be that as it may, I'll take Paris any day of the week when it comes to YSL's lighter feminine scents, as Champagne (or Yvresse, or whatever you want to call it) has fruity notes I'd far rather see replaced with rosy or other floral notes. (Hence my love of Paris.)

Greener and fruitier than Erolfa, Arcus could easily pass for a unisex scent. I, too, am not picking up any frankincense here.

This one falls more into the Silver Mountain Water category than the AdG category, IMHO. (Imagine SMW with less tea and more citrus and you've kind of got Arcus cornered.)

I like this one very much (as these types of "fresh, green" fragrances go, that is), but am not willing to plunk down the Abu Dhabi-esque price tag for it. Sorry, it's good but not THAT good.

Heady and seductive and utterly beguiling stuff. As scentemental pointed out in an earlier review (and I paraphrase here) "this is NOT your father's neroli." It is not the fresh scrubbed, rosy cheeked neroli of Creed's Neroli Sauvage, nor the sparkling neroli of Penhaligon's Castile, nor the bright floral of the neroli in Versace Man. No, this is dark and dense (great adjective choice, scentemental!)stuff here -- more appropriate to the bedroom than the boardroom. I could see a man or a woman pulling this off at work or in public, yes, but it's so rich and so bewitching that it's better worn in the boudoir or the bath. LOVE this stuff!

By far my favorite of all the contemporary Lancôme offerings. This one is dark and sultry on me, and very "incense-y." I like the dark rose notes in this much as I do those in Iquitos -- very melancholy, very autumnal.

Beautiful "dry-down" period on me that lasts three to four hours after the EDT and perhaps four to eight hours after the EDP. Have yet to try the perfume itself.

Most unusual scent -- this one definitely intrigues me. Imagine a faint citrus lingering behind a veil of smoke and dark tea, perhaps Lapsang Souchong or a similar brew. Very dark and brooding at first, with heavy emphasis on the smoky notes. Dries down to a lovely tea scent -- by far the strongest I've ever smelled.

This is, I'm sure, what a 19th century Chinese teahouse must have smelled like. All I need now is a Mandarin sitting across the table from me, smoking a black bamboo pipe and stroking his long, white beard as he speaks. Very evocative stuff, but not for everyone. (You must be a tea aficionado, or at least a fan of tea notes in fragrances, to appreciate this gem. If you like Bulgari Black and/or Silver Mountain Water, you'll most likely go crazy for Thé Brun.

Average longevity (four to six hours), with good sillage.

I was glad to see, too, that this house has finally come out with men's scents, as I had said for years that Brosseau's Ombre Rose was one of the best buys out there on the women's market.

Very, very good stuff, this.

Chrome poured out of a pineapple.

Drakkar Noir with balls and a hefty price tag.

Better than Drakkar? You bet -- this could pass as a Drakkar EDP, IMHO.

If you like Drakkar without the "off notes," get Great Jones. If you don't, then move on along to another Bond No. 9 favorite of mine -- H.O.T. Always. (It's Givenchy's Gentleman with even bigger balls.)

There's a reason this awful crap is only $6.00 a bottle on eBay.
Avoid much as you would cholera.

Fans of agarwood, come stand by the stage. Hell, get in the mosh pit. Prepare for one hell of a concert.

Foes of agarwood, stay away. (Maybe in the lobby, or on the street, or possibly somewhere in Outer Mongolia.)

Not only is the sweet agarwood predominant (at least to my nose), but M7 is also largely dominated by musk, and lots of it. VERY sexy stuff!

This is one of those love it/hate it scents. (I for one can't imagine any middle ground.) In that regard, it stands in a proud circle of friends: Gucci PH, A*men, L'Anarchiste, Musc Ravageur, Body Kouros, Gentleman and Daim Blond (to name but a few).

I personally love this stuff, and wear it often. Others, however, hate it with a purple passion and will disparage it to their graves.

In short: TRY BEFORE YOU BUY.

A horrid waste of perfectly good alcohol and glass.

To quote colormeChris: "Chaps is the only dime store' fragrance for men that I've found to have any real complexity. It has a bad rap as being cheap because it is cheaply priced."

This one's very leathery and powdery on me, and a darn good buy for the dollars spent. Is it Bois de Portugal? No. Muscs Koublai Khan? Hell, no. But -- for those on a budget -- trust me when I say you could do a helluva lot worse than Chaps.

Women love it on me, as do guys. I might only wear it once a year (at most), but the compliments I get one day a year from this are well worth it. And it beats the bejeezus out of such insipid, bland, namby-pamby Lauren offerings as Polo Blue, and Sport, and so forth. At least Polo and Chaps and Monogram had BALLS.

This is one of those scents that I wear only to garner compliments, not because I like it personally. (And I despise the cheesy, mass produced, "Let's try to look like third-rate Baccarat with a faux family crest" bottle. It's Lauren's pathetic social climbing bullshit all over again.)

It (the scent) is warm and woody and inoffensive enough, yes, and I can see why many (foetidus chief among them) love it. (And BOY does it get me compliments when I wear it!) That said, it's not a personal fave by any means. Truth be told, it bores me to tears.

Give me Trussardi Uomo or Polo Crest or Catalyst (or even Paul Sebastian) any day of the week.

Quorum is very like Mexico City in that I like to visit it, but I sure as hell wouldn't want to live there.

I like it on my Dad -- he still wears it. (I associate this scent with him much in the same way that I associate Calvin for Men with my elder brother, or bay rum with my paternal grandfather.)

Still, it just doesn't work on me. Like Photo by Lagerfeld, it never seems to die down on me -- it just keeps going, and going, and going.

I don't understand the extent of the derision here in this selection of reviews, no. (Really, it's not a terrible scent.) It's just VERY strong and it won't go away when you most want it to.

Aphrodite might wear this magical potion.
Seriously.

Lush and elegant and complex and SO divinely Oriental. I really deeply love this one -- it's Bellodgia's older and wiser sister.

Great stuff!

In the same vein as Scent Intense and Magie Noire in that it's a) smoky, woody, dark, rich, and incense-laden and b) indisputably unisex, no matter the marketing. I know more people who have this as their "signature scent" than almost any other I can think of right off the top of my head. (And with good reason.)

Yes, it's true -- the "dry down" IS very reminiscent of Balenciaga. Cheap on eBay, and worth every scent. Great for anyone on a budget -- warm, deep, only a tad of a longevity issue.

Lovely stuff, but this stuff is about as unisex as Annette Funicello's bra. That is to say, no holds barred, that applying this stuff will make you smell really, really, REALLY damned girly. (And no, I don't care what they do in Europe.)

Don't get me wrong -- I'm all for breaking down bad barriers between the genders. That said, Nu is NOT for you (whether you're male or female, or something in between) if lush florals bother your nose, as this is some very heady stuff, IMHO.

And yes, the other reviewers are right in saying that the EDP version is a) better (richer, deeper, more complex) and b) somewhat -- but only somewhat, I hasten to add -- more masculine.

This is what came about 9 months after Kouros shared a night of hot, steamy passion with Lapidus for Men.

This "love child" is -- IMHO -- the strongest, headiest scent from this Eighties/early Nineties era. And, as much as I love Balenciaga Pour Homme, I have to admit that I can, on some level, see how it and others like it might steer a generation towards the insipid world of Tommy and Nautica and all their similarly ugly little inbred siblings.

In a word: CAUTION. This is delightful stuff, yes, but it can quickly overpower even the most jaded of noses if it's applied more than a spritz or two at a time. Wear too much and you'll smell like Disco Stu, or possibly an overdressed mafioso straight out of "Wise Guys."

Great stuff, nevertheless -- why Balenciaga saw fit to discontinue this one (and Portos!) will remain forever beyond me.

Powerful, leathery, spicy, animalic. Like Yatagan, Antaeus, Balafre and others, this stuff is not for fans of those namby-pamby, pallid, androgynous, "aquatic" disasters out there that millions now call scent.

Fendi Uomo is an Eighties power scent all the way, and it makes no bones about it. If you like Escada or Santos, I can see no reason why you wouldn't like Fendi Uomo, too. The bottle, while interesting, IS hilariously dated in an Eighties kind of a way (looks like Corian trying to look like granite), but that's OK -- I'm not the flacon freak I once was.

Delectable. Serious. Crisp. Earthy. Straightforward. Cold. Warm. Wonderful. (So many adjectives; so little time.)

A definite power scent for me -- great one to wear for meetings with clients and (gulp!!!) family.

Possibly the greatest unisex fragrance ever made -- absolutely WONDERFUL stuff. I don't get the "disco" and "moose on the loose" vibes with MR at all -- on the contrary, it's very sensual and powdery and rich on me, and I get TONS of compliments from both genders alike. I don't find it feminine, either -- just very intricate and (again) sensual and altogether intoxicating. (I find myself sniffing my arm all day long after applying this stuff, much like Acier Aluminium, JHL, Leonard Pour Homme and Havana Reserva.)

It's true that I shudder at the thought of having to plop down another $110.00 (plus tax) at Barney's every time I use up a bottle, but I'll do it again and again as needed -- because this glorious stuff is indisputably worth every red cent.

Pirates? Maybe, but more likely the stuff of Olympian gods. One of my top five of all time -- esp. in its Reserva version. Spicy, deep, rummy, tobacco-y -- what's not to love? It is, IMHO, one of the greatest American scents ever made, and its discontinuation should go down as one of the greatest marketing blunders ever.

Light yet distinctive; powdery yet not "talc-y"; inexpensive but not cheap.

Great bottle, too!

A rose scent for those who don't want to smell like Tea Rose/funeral homes for DAYS.

Good buy for the money! One of my baby sister's long-time signatures, BB is soft yet confident and feminine yet not cloying. In the same family as Sung for Women and Jessica McClintock. Nice stuff, especially for the price.

Eighties classic that doesn't knock you over when you enter the room. Great blend of citrus, lavender, and spices. Very spicy on my skin.

Never could understand why they discontinued this one -- it was really Halston's most distinctive men's fragrance. Great top notes, with a wonderfully warm, spicy "dry down."
I remember it being very potent, too -- a spritz or two would "do it."
They always seem to discontinue the really good ones.

I agree with Pluran's statement that SMW shares some similarities with both Erolfa and Millesime Imperial, but let me interject here and state the equally obvious: namely, that SMW is also a kissing cousin of Calvin Klein's much loved and much maligned CKOne. (Put more succinctly, Silver Mountain Water is CKOne's rich, well dressed cousin from London.)

The notes are better defined, true enough, and the ingredients costlier, but the overall effect is strikingly similar -- clean, crisp, long lasting without being overbearing, and unquestionably unisex.

A definite thumbs up in my book. Not my favorite Creed, no -- Acier Aluminium, Erolfa, Himalaya, Millesime Imperial, and Neroli Sauvage still beat it out in my top five. But it's still one heckuva good fragrance.

Great fragrance, and now one of the best buys on the market. (Picked up my last 3.4 oz. bottle at Marshall's for under $15.00!)

I wear this one more than any other "fresh" fragrance in my wardrobe because I always get INUNDATED with compliments whenever I do. (It also has great lasting power and fantastic sillage.)

It's fresh without being fruity (in spite of the fig leaf notes) and crisp without being too dry. A perennial favorite.

SUCH a disappointment after the original Paradiso Inferno. From warm and spicy to -- well, yet another "freshy fresh fresh" blah clone. What a colossal bore.

This is one of those scents that is deceptive as hell. Spray it on and -- true enough -- it smells very, very like the perennially boring Crave. But wait a few minutes and the "dry down" begins. That's when the wood and crisp notes start to dominate and mellow out the orange notes.

I have to admit that this one grew on me considerably, and it was a good buy, to boot. I'll probably save this one until spring (it's October now), or perhaps for an exceptionally gloomy winter's day. Very bright, very crisp, very pleasant scent. -- that honor belong's to Desprez's lamentably discontinued scent by the same name. But, hey, for the price, maybe Les Tuileries.

This is also one of those scents that'll be far more wearable for most than the far darker Dali Pour Homme.

I don't see how any man could ever pull this one off, no -- this rich, amber-y potion is femininity captured and bottled and sealed.

I can't think of a word aside from perhaps "decadent" to describe this rich, luscious stuff. As with Givenchy's Ysatis, Laroche's Fidgi, Cartier's Must, and Creed's Fleurissimo, I just literally want to go MAD every time I smell this on a woman.

I can't wait to smell Prada for Men now -- I hear it has the same heavy amber basenote.

I just don't see this one as "aquatic" at all. It's very crisp and dry to my nose, and its notes well blended. Lasts a long time on me, too, with near perfect sillage.

I never have understood why this "sleeper" wasn't a better seller. It's CERTAINLY far better than that Acqua di Gio crap.

Proof that you CAN have too much of a good thing. Weak and linear -- there are MUCH better sandalwoods out there.

Nice enough, yes, and a good choice for those seeking a "crisp' fragrance. But the original Escada is SO much better -- so much richer and deeper and complex. It's kind of like Egoiste v. Platinum -- that is to say, "Why bother? Why try to improve upon perfection?"

I rather like this, but don't understand why it's touted as a men's fragrance. If I remember correctly (and I could be wrong), Fendi marketed this as a unisex fragrance.

I happen to love it -- very crisp, very "metallic." Don't understand all the derision. Found a bottle at Filene's in Chicago and fell in love -- now I wear it all the time.

OK, I'll be honest -- I've never tried this stuff. That said, I just had to weigh in here and say that -- "Dinner" aside -- this is the WORST name I've ever heard or seen for a scent. What's its companion scent's name -- FRODO?

Damn good stuff -- I found a bottle on eBay recently, and truly treasure it. (I heard that CK re-introduced it only to pull it off the market again.)

Calvin for Men was my elder brother's signature scent throughout the Eighties, and it, by anyone's standards, is one powerhouse of a scent.

Calvin is very like Antaeus or VC&A or Leonard Pour Homme or Portos (either Balenciaga OR Aramis) in that it is NOT for the faint of heart, nor for the unisex market -- this is swaggeringly masculine stuff. It's also (unlike the others I named above) truly great for casual afternoons year 'round. LOVE LOVE LOVE this fragrance! It's hard for me to believe that the same firm that gave us this one and Obsession should now produce such limp, insipid sh-t as Eternity, Crave, and Euphoria (all of which are MOST inaccurately named, I might add -- they should be named "Oblivion," "Pointless Addiction" and "Ennui.")

I agree with a nice little sleeper, you bet. Unfortunately, it shares the dubious distinction (along with Lapidus and Photo) of actually "growing" on me when I wear it. That's right -- it actually seems to grow stronger on me after I put it on. That's fine for an hour or two, but annoying as hell by five o'clock that afternoon, ya know? This one definitely has its fans, and for good reason -- it's a great scent for a fair price, even discontinued. That said, it just doesn't mesh with my body chemistry, I'm afraid. Thumbs up, but not for me.

Aside from Dior's Eau Sauvage Extreme, this is one of the few citrus scents I really like. No, make that ADORE.

Great stuff -- so sad they discontinued it. I hate to pay eBay prices for the EDT, as we used to get it SO cheap at the Outlet Mall in Galveston, TX.

Will keep looking for Tenaz bargains when I can find them.

More compliments from this warm, long lasting EDT than just about anything in recent memory. Am savoring my last bottle right now, and making it last.

Can be worn by a gutsy man, as its dry-down isn't so sweet as its initial spray-on.

The new one's nice enough, I suppose, but I saw no need to mess with a classic. What next -- shall we insist that the Mona Lisa get a rhinoplasty in oil?

Classic, restrained, feminine scent. Not for the outrageous.

RCavs got it right -- this one's a kissing cousin of Guerlain's (sorry, but have to say it) superior L'instant Pour Homme. Neither VI nor L'instant EDT can hold a candle to the incomparable L'instant Eau Extreme, though. Like VI? Like L'instant? Do yourself a favor and -- kudos to both scents aside -- seek out the Eau Extreme version of L'instant instead. You'll have spent your moolah far more wisely.

Elegant and sultry and seductive. Never let it be said that the house that Hubert built is faltering.

Very sweet, very warm. I don't pick up on anything cloying or synthetic (as others obviously do); however, I CAN say that this is not one for those who don't favor sweet/spicy Orientals.

It's very much in the same family as Nemo by Cacharel, IMHO, and akin to its namesake, Xeryus.

I picked up my last bottle for cheap on eBay, and get tons of compliments every time I use it.

Just another tired, "fruity aquatic" automaton in a row of similar automatons. Fruitier than most, true. (This may appeal to fans of sour apple gum.)

Don't get me wrong -- this stuff isn't evil, or horrid, or toxic. It's just commonplace and anything but outstanding.

I have a friend who loves this stuff, and I can see why. That is, he just wants a light, everyday fragrance. That's fine -- for him.

Rich and warm and spicy -- positively sublime stuff, this. It's very old-fashioned, and I wouldn't have been a bit surprised had I read "1887" instead of "1987" as its introduction date.

The base below the lavender and spices reminds me very much of Knize Ten. (Am I the only one to smell this?)

One of my top five Creed favorites.

MizLiz has it right on the money -- this is one rich bitch who gets what she wants!

It's the smell of my maternal grandmother, as well as most of my mother's sisters and friends. It's a deep, rich, complex scent, with intriguing layers of aldehydes, geraniums, patchouli, sandalwood, cloves . . . you name it. Inexplicably beautiful.

I still use this (in bath oil form, esp.) to scent my drawer sachets. WONDERFUL!!!

Intoxicating Oriental -- can't get enough of this stuff, esp. in the autumn and winter. I make my friend Helen spritz this one on just so I can roll my eyes and moan every time I sniff this heady stuff. YUMMMMMMMMM!

Lush and potent and rich and and Old World and decadent and genuinely delicious.

This stuff makes me CRAZY -- I just want to sniff the wrists and neck of every woman I detect it on (and I'm gay!).

Impeccable, crisp, formal. In the same class as Pour Monsieur, Acier Aluminium, Antaeus, etc.

Not for those who don't care for citrus/spice mixtures, but otherwise perfect.

I sometimes wonder if some perfume company execs somewhere don't have their collective heads up their asses.
To wit: Leonard Pour Homme, Portos, Havana, Nino Cerruti . . . in short, WHY DO THEY DISCONTINUE THE CLASSICS? ARE THAT MANY YUTZES OUT THERE REALLY PASSING UP THE GOOD STUFF TO PURCHASE YET ANOTHER BOTTLE OF TOMMY, OR SOME OTHER INSIPID CRAPOLA?

Cerruti Original was great stuff, and without the "power notes" that made so many late Seventies and early Eighties fragrances the objects of later laughter.

Very crisp, very green, eminently wearable. A smidgen formal, perhaps, but a great fragrance all around.

A pale, pale reflection (at best) of the masterpiece that is Égoïste. That Chanel should have chosen to discontinue the good one while releasing (and aggressively marketing) the mediocre cousin is beyond me -- perhaps the execs there understand how many tasteless consumers there are in the U.S. of A.

Give me my (original) Égoïste -- I'll keep the Platinum for re-gifting.

It's 80% Allure and 20% Blu Notte. The Equus is MUCH MUCH better.

If I wanted to bathe in chocolate covered cherries and pound cake, I would.
Well, guess what? I don't. Ergo, I avoid H.M. much as I do tuberculosis, skirvy, and Jehovah's Witnesses alike.

Good stuff for a young lady, and not at all expensive. My aunt used to wear this stuff when she was in her teens (she's not much older than I), and even one whiff of this scent even today really takes me back to the Seventies.

Some make fun of all Avon fragrances out of sheer snobbishness. I admit that most are rubbish, but there are exceptions, definitely, and this is one of them. Is it Tabac Blond? No. Acier Aluminium? Hardly. Havana Reserva? Hell, no! But it is what it is, and that is a nice, sweet, innocent eau de cologne for young girls.

So many make fun of it because it's an easy target -- mass marketed, popular with many across the spectrum, often abused/over-applied, etc.

But really, this fragrance is pretty darn good if applied in moderation. On me, it starts out soapy and almost medicinal, but it soons dries out to a warm and citrus-y scent that stays with me long throughout the day.

Kai hit the nail on the head in his review when he called this one "deservedly popular."

If some two-bit lounge lizard in Atlantic City washes his face with this stuff, or some used car salesman in Tupelo, well, that's his problem. Doesn't change the fact that -- truth be told -- this is a Laroche classic.

I want to be rich enough to literally bathe in this stuff! WOW!

I wasn't terribly fond of the EDT version, as it had a strange note that gave me just a bit of a headache -- can't really put my finger on it. But oh, boy, I fell in love with the EDP version, and how! It lasts forEVER, and (like the Eau Extreme version of Guerlain's L'instant), it just seems to take all that is wonderful about the EDT version and concentrate it down into a heady potion. Can't recommend this stuff enough!

A personal favorite as unisex scents go -- it's crisp, fun, and very wearable all around. Doesn't last too long, though, so be forewarned.

I used to sneak some of my Mom's occasionally, not knowing that I was by no means the only guy to do so. Still haven't met but one other guy who occasionally wears Shalimar, though.

You've got to give this one some time to dry down, else it'll knock you out of your chair and you'll just go wash your wrists. Lovely drydown -- esp. the powdery, spicy carnation and powerful tuberose notes.

This one reminds me very much of Yves St. Laurent's Body Kouros in that it's (for me, anyway) two totally different scents. The opening, like YSL's BK, is loud to the point of deafening, with the fruit notes predominant. Thereafter, though, the leathery, masculine drydown is (as other reviewers have pointed out) quite nice. (Nice enough, in fact, that I'm ready to order the 4.2 oz. bottle.)

Fantastic take on sandalwood, and SUCH an appropriate name. Let's hope that Aramis has the common sense not to let this one go the way of Portos, Havana and New West. I can't believe that they'd put out crap like Life when they have these four winners alone under their belt, and three of those four (stupidly) discontinued.

Good stuff -- very masculine, very rough at the edges. This is, however, one of those things you either love or love to hate. As others have pointed out here (as with Polo, along the same lines), this one must must MUST be worn with caution, as too much of a good thing can be a very, very, VERY bad thing.

I love the smokiness and piquancy of Sagamore, and was SO glad to hear that Lancôme has (however briefly) brought this puppy back from the dead.

I've always thought of this cologne (along with its distant cousin, Leonard Pour Homme) as something to wear to events filled with gravitas -- "Happy for Men" it ain't. Simply put, Antaeus for weddings; Leonard and Sagamore for funerals and poetry readings. (And that's not necessarily a bad thing -- provided that the service is somber and the poetry not execrable.)

There's something elusive here I desperately want to like, true, but the headache-inducing "hairspray" note that runs throughout it just makes me want to go out and get a Marge Simpson-esque bouffant prior to slitting my wrists. (All in all, it's not worth the headache or the hairdo or the horrific death just to search out one nice note.)

Compelling and mysterious and discreet and somber. Seriousness in a bottle, with a healthy measure of impeccable taste thrown in for good measure. (But not for the faint of heart, friends.)

Lovely stuff -- light and airy without being boring or adolescent. I really like the aldehydes here, and there's a citrus note that ties everything together without overpowering everything else. The men's version is nice, too, but nothing like the women's version. BRAVO!

Crisp and warm and formal. I like the women's version by Grès even better, so much so that it far outshines the classic Cabotine in my book.

Far better than the female counterpart by the same name. Foetidus is correct in his assessment -- this IS the best of the "family" that I've smelled to date. (Well, Acqua by Bvlgari comes close . . .) Foetidus is right, too, in pointing out the "lots of bang for the buck" factor.

LiveJazz is right in his assessment of this scent -- it IS the spiciest of all the "aquatics." And MonkeyManMatt's right, too, in that this scent's drydown is very reminiscent of Fahrenheit. Still, I'll save for another bottle of another frag. Will give this one a thumbs up, but only because it breaks the mold and doesn't reek.

I'm with Ronald on this one in that it's Trussardi Uomo's American brother. Uomo's better, though, and (even though it's also discontinued) it is cheaper, too. I saw some yutz paying $200 or so on eBay the other day for "Woods." Proof, I guess, that the gene pool needs a splash of chlorine.

Many folks take Ambien to go to sleep. Many more take Lunesta. Some are even convinced that good old diphenhydramine is the way to go.

Trust me when I say that this awful mess from Abercrombie works equally well, albeit with a nasty synthetic hangover the next day. (And with nothing to show for it aside from a high price tag.)

Burberry Touch with more woods and patchouli to "dampen down" the cloying sweetness I so associate with Touch. Got it cheap, too -- $14.99 on eBay for a 3.3 oz. tester!

Francesco Smalto. Lagerfeld Photo. Jacomo de Jacomo. All of a common family -- "benzoin meets leather meets spice." All bear the same ability to knock you over, too, if over-applied. Thumbs up, but not for me.

I don't think of this one as being so aquatic as herbal. The best of the Kenzos, IMHO. -- sure hope they don't do something idiotic and discontinue it!

People make fun of this because it seems as though we all knew someone who practically injected this stuff into his veins. (As a result, we all knew someone who REEKED of Polo.)

In its defense, though, Polo is a wonderful scent -- very green, very warm, and very tobacco-y all at once. (And, as in The Dreamer, and Very Valentino, and Tabarome all, it's the tobacco notes that I love best.)

I agree with many of the reviewers here that this is a great fragrance, but only when applied judiciously.

Should have been put out in the Twenties or Thirties, not the Eighties. Great stuff, but more along the lines of Bellodgia and Tabac Blond and Habanita than almost anything introduced a mere twenty-odd years ago.

In short, I can see why this was discontinued in that it was (and I mean this in the best way) behind its time.

Sweet, innocent, old-fashioned charm. The older of my two stepsisters made this her "signature" scent in the Eighties, and I still look for it on her behalf.

Definite gourmand, IMHO -- esp. the coconut and fig notes. I like the fig notes here, believe it or not. (Strange, given that the same notes make me almost ill in Salavatore Ferragamo's brew.)

Nice, but not for those who don't like dry and woody mixed with fruity. Thumbs up, but with that exception noted.

Not quite sure how I feel about this one just yet. I want to love it, and think of it as a "civilized Joop!" or an "incense-ier Rochas Pour Homme," but it just hasn't grown on me that much yet.

I ADORE the drydown thus far ("candle wax" smell and all), but the initial blasts straight out of the bottle are enough to fell a charging rhino at twenty paces. Bluntly put, it goes on smelling horrid and then begins to turn into something that I think is really lovely.

Will give this one a "thumbs up" right now, yes, but with the proviso that it be applied sparingly. (No matter your opinion of this stuff, it's VERY, VERY strong.)

Basically a stronger version of Photo by Lagerfeld, and in the same family not only as Lagerfeld, but also Francesco Smalto. All three fragrances "amp up" BIG TIME on my skin rather than "dry down" over the course of the day. Photo's by far the best of these three Eighties "powerhouses," but all three remind me very much of one another.

All I can say of all three in general (and One Man Show in particular) is APPLY IN MODERATION. (Otherwise, you'll need to call in HAZMAT teams to clean up the aftermath if you over-spritz.)

Great formal fragrance -- perfect for office wear and black tie. (Can't really see this one with jeans and t-shirts.) Very understated, but not weak. Very dry, but not "bone dry." All around pleasant stuff.

Classic Thirties scent -- reminds me of my grandmother's dressing table. Like Miss Dior and L'air du Temps, this inexpensive fragrance is among the "must-haves" for any young woman who wants her first "grown up" fragrances.

Nice, "bright" scent -- very much in the same family as the (new) Oscar for Men. Like Oscar for Men and Happy by Clinique, this is a "feel good" fragrance for me. I grab the little frosted bottle whenever I need a pick-me-up in the middle of the day. And you can't beat the price, either -- I picked up my last bottle at Gordman's for all of $12.95 plus tax.

Potent, potent stuff. As with Lagerfeld Photo, Chanel Antaeus, and H.O.T. Always by Bond No. 9, be sure to ease into this stuff, else you'll fry your nostrils and scare small children for miles around.

It's really very pleasant, but the drydown is far better than the initial notes. In short, it's a) to be sprayed or splashed in moderation, and b) is well worth the wait, esp. for the price.

Won't be buying a bottle tomorrow, no, but that's just because I have enough scents right now to spray Cox's army.

God, I used to LOVE this stuff! Why, why, WHY did they yank this off the shelves? Wore it all the time in the early Nineties, and still think it makes a great unisex scent.

Very crisp, very pleasant, very casual. Not something I clamor for, no, but worth spritzing on every now and again.

I'm with Joshaugustt on this one. My husband and I've gone through three bottles of this stuff in the last five years, and they were BIG bottles. I've known those who -- like foetidus -- said this stuff had no lasting power on their bodies, but it lasts ALL day on me, and dries down to a spicy, powdery scent that's irresistible to me (and others around me). This scent has its definite detractors, yes, but that's OK. I like it. (It can't all be about Creeds and Christians and Malles and Lutens and Nicolais.)

As close to a gourmand fragrance as I care to get. Very rich, very powdery, very soft on me -- but it still packs a definite punch. FAR preferable to Bvlgari Blu, IMHO.

Whoa, now THIS was some great stuff. (Can't believe that mine is the only review on the board thus far!)

This very heady, VERY "Eighties" scent had just enough anise -- not too much, as so many do today.

Remember this one quite fondly.