Fragrance Reviews by scentsitivity

Since no one has listed the notes for Boss Pure, I will start by giving them (derived from the Boss fragrances website):

Top notes: fig water, Mediterranean citrus
Heart notes: lily, hyacinth
Base notes: massola wood, tree moss

I dislike the opening. It has citric tartness, but nothing that helps one discern what type of fruit it is. While I love citrus fruits, I find mere tartness in fragrance to be boring. This is coupled with a watery note, which I find equally unappealing. In the drydown, the tartness disappears and Pure becomes smooth and woody. Throughout it remains unremarkable.

I give it a neutral rating, as I would classify Pure as an inoffensive, fresh, clean scent.

As of this writing, there are 59 fragrances in the basenotes directory with “pure” as part of their name!

Is there aoud in Montale Attar? I really don’t know for certain. While I get the medicinal character of aoud in the opening, which reminds me of Black Aoud, I get none of the “aoud magic” that follows in all the Montale Aoud’s I have tried to date: Black Aoud, Royal Aoud, Steam Aoud and Aoud Damascus. And Montale does not list aoud as a note (and it certainly is a note that no manufacturer would want to gloss over if it is there! It is too costly not to boast about!) At any rate, this reminds me of a Black Aoud in the opening, later in development a simple rose dominated scent, supported by sandalwood. Certainly acceptable, but not especially remarkable: I see it as an unnecessary addition if one owns Black Aoud. Indeed, if I had both, the Montale Attar would never be worn.

I REALLY LIKE this one! Warm, heavy, very sensual with decent sillage and great longevity. Two notes dominate Musc Ravgeur: cinnamon and clove. Cloves are something I have avoided in fragrance since I tried Kouros – which I did not like and I associated my dislike with its clove presentation. MR has readjusted my thinking about clove: it works really well with the cinnamon. I don’t get much of the bergamot/lavender opening: it seems to get overwhelmed quickly by the heart notes. Nice base of vanilla, supported by wood and musk notes. I can't say that the cinnamon and clove ever really makes a full exit. A special scent for special occasions. Recommended!

I agree with the other reviewers to date: this is a decent fragrance! Fresh, aromatic, masculine and sensual. Definitely better than most fragrances that I would label as fresh (then again, it brings more to the table than mere freshness). Leathery base (we would hope so, being from Everlast!). Decent sillage and longevity. Worthy of consideration and relatively inexpensive.

On my first use, I felt this had promise. However, subsequent wearings were unpleasant for me: I find it to be monotonous a bit too sweet. The notes listed in the directory are incomplete, so I provide those listed at the Floris website.

Top notes: bergamot, black pepper, cardamom, green grass, lemon
Heart notes: clove bud, lavender, nutmeg
Base notes: amber, cedarwood, frankincense, musk, sandalwood, vanilla, vetiver

I acquired from Lutens their set of wax samples, which I have tested from time to time. Chergui was one that I enjoyed and it struck me as smooth, sensual and sophisticated with a well-rounded tobacco note. So when opportunity came to purchase a bottle I did so. Unfortunately, in the liquid fragrance the tobacco was more potent, a tad bitter and clashed with the smoothness around it. I learned a valuable lesson for myself: don’t buy a Lutens on the basis of a wax sample. Test the actual liquid before buying.

Some might think this is like other sporty fragrances; and to a degree it is. But it is worse than most, being ultra-synthetic and downright unpleasant and annoying. My negative review makes for the seventh in a row!

In two words I would call it ‘herbal amber’. Interesting scent in that while most ambers I have tried are fairly sweet, in Ambre 114 (as it is now called) the sweetness is very subdued. Herbal elements, particularly thyme and nutmeg, work with the amber and tone down any sweetness to it. This makes for an interesting accord. In the base, one gets mild sweetness as vanilla becomes detectable, but it is still less than most all amber fragrances I have tried to date. I do not see myself buying this one, but it is definitely worthy of consideration.

My experience doesn’t match that of other reviewers: I find Do Son to be extremely intense, unpleasant and downright nauseating. For me, an unbearable fragrance.

As of this writing there are 47 reviews of BpH, two of which give some notice of an important fact: BpH is a chypre. That is a fundamental point to consider when contemplating BpH. For me the opening is a bit dense, but thoroughly masculine. About an hour into wearing it, it turns sour and I find it unpleasant. However, after a time the sourness dissipates and the last several hours are simply wonderful: the heaviness of the opening is gone, and the masculine character remains. Aromatic throughout. For me, it is a bit of a roller coaster ride, so I can’t give it a thumbs up. But it is worthy of consideration, hence my neutral rating.

A well-executed vetiver fragrance with a smoky and woody character. Not for me, but definitely to be considered by serious vetiver lovers. I see it as better suited for a man.

Fahrenheit provides a good example of why one cannot take house spin too seriously. For example, the Fahrenheit notes listed at the Dior website are given as:

Top: Howthorn, Honeysuckle
Middle: Sandalwood
Base: Cedar, Patchouli

Yet the carded sample I have tells a different story. It labels it as a ‘woody leather’ (a description that matches that of Luca Turin in the book “Perfumes”), with notes of tangerine, cedar wood and leather. At least there is one note that matches. Further, the Dior website describes Fahrenheit as a “virile, delicate and rounded fragrance." While I could concede virile and rounded, I fail to see anything delicate at work here.

As to the fragrance itself: the opening strikes me as the smell of gasoline. This quickly transitions to a motor oil smell that lasts a good deal longer. Then a muddied mix of wood and leather emerge. I love the smell of gasoline, but not on me. I don’t like the smell of motor oil. The base of Fahrenheit is okay, but not worth the wait.

I see a strong similarity to Azzaro Chrome here. Decent construction, summery character, but doesn’t break any new ground.

Another ultra-clean scent! Unlike most of this sort, it comes with a price tag: as of this writing, $148 (US) for 30 mls. The Nasomatto website says it “aims to evoke superhero magnetism.” Who writes this stuff? Not recommended.

I think of sorbets as intensely fruity and sweet. So I was surprised to find Etro's Lemon Sorbet to lack sweetness. However, I still think it is a good scent. On initial application there is a blast of fresh carrot, which diminishes quickly and the lemon shows through. I like the lemon because it doesn't have that "furniture polish" feel. Rather it is a bold, fresh unsweetened lemon, with a touch of earthiness in the background. With the heart an herbal character emerges, with rosemary dominating. Eventually vetiver comes through. All the while you can get a touch of the lemon. I get 6 decent hours out of this EdC. I like this one, but not enough to buy it.

Notes, per the Etro website are:

Top: Bergamot, Lemon, Orange, Petitgrain (Citrus)
Heart: Lavender, Rosemary (Spicy)
Base: Sandalwood, Vetiver (Woody)

If you like intense sweet amber, this is a good choice. Honestly, at first I did not like it, it seemed too potent, but it grew on me: I couldn't stop sniffing my wrist. The key is to apply lightly. A little goes a long way: I get 12+ hours from a single application. Too much and it's a monster.

Strikes me as rather loud, harsh and synthetic. Nothing I would want to wear or smell.

Mambo for Men is a confused concoction, with watery, sweet and woody notes bumping into each other. I think the worst part of it is that I get an unpleasant burnt smell that begins soon after the opening lasts for a good while. The basenotes are pleasant woods and musk; not especially remarkable, but pleasant... still not worth waiting for.

I wore Antidote several times and while I liked it, I was puzzled by this dense, complex fragrance. I certainly didn't feel capable of commenting on it. Then I smelled it on someone else, my youngest son (who loves it, I might add), was thoroughly impressed and most importantly it helped me develop a framework. I would characterize it as heavy, with a harsh edge, strongly masculine, sweet and having a barbershop character. Luca Turin, in the book "Perfumes: The Guide" uses the term "mutant lavender" to describe Antidote. He is focusing on one of the prominent synthetic armomachemicals, sclarene, which provides a long-lasting, airy, lavender-like scent. Turin critiques the use of sclarene here, because it doesn't match the heaviness of the scent (at least that is my interpretation of his comment). And I do agree in part. There are clashing elements in Antidote. For me, I find them puzzling to comprehend easily, but still I find Antidote to be enjoyable and stimulating. So I give it a thumbs up. I have a mini bottle and I am sure it will be adequate for infrequent use in the years to come.

It is interesting to see the clashing opinons on Ungaro III. A decent number of reviewers see this as dark or gothic. A lesser number characterize it in an opposite manner: light and bright. So what was the "creator's intent"? At the Ungaro website, I find the following description: "A fresh, light and sensual fragrance characterized by a woody spicy aromatic note." This is closer to my experience. Except I don't see it as especially sensual. No one has posted the notes, so here they are:

Head notes: Pepper, lemon, orange (warm and spicy)
Middle notes: Geranium, patchouli (warm sensation)
Base notes: Vetiver, sandalwood (woody and sensual)

It is interesting how many notes not given are perceived. And how others listed are not.

One should note similarities with Ungaro II. Both have the following notes in common: lemon, orange, geranium, patchouli and sandalwood. And when one smells Ungaro II and Ungaro III, it is obvious that they are "brothers". I do consider Ungaro II to be the more sensual of the two.

One thing I note in Ungaro III is not just the olfactory experience, but there is a sensation on the skin. Sometimes it is warm, other times cool. It is reminiscent of menthol or similar compounds. When I smell my skin, I get a cool sensation in my nostrils as well. I would characterize Ungaro III as bright and clean with an herbal/spicy character. The wood shows up later, but dimly. I think it is an okay scent, decent construction, but not exciting to me. I wish it were as sensual as advertised.

I have tried Ténéré several times and found it to be different and intriguing. I took some time to ponder, as it has a unique character. The opening is a bit cluttered and dense. Eventually honey and rose emerge as prominent notes. I detect a tinge of tarragon. Leather is in the background, but emerges later on as more pronounced. There is a lot of complexity at all stages, but the latter stages have less clutter than in the opening: I prefer the heart and base. Since no one has listed the notes, I provide them here:

TOP NOTES: Bergamot, Cassia, Grapefruit, Green Note, Lavender, Lemon, Rosemary
HEART NOTES: Anise, Artemisia, Carnation, Cinnamon, Honey, Jasmin, Lily of the Valley, Orris, Rose, Tarragon
BASE NOTES: Amber, Cedar, Leather, Musk, Patchouli, Vetiver

Ténéré is no longer in production and that is regrettable, as it is a decent scent. Good sillage and longevity.

I agree with others that opening is reminiscent of Mugler Cologne, but it is weaker. Beyond that, an unremarkable clean scent that doesn't leave a lasting impression, but hardly offensive.

L'Autre is another unconventional Diptyque fragrance, reminding me (and others) much of Indian cuisine. Complex, but certainly cumin stands out, with cardamom being there as well. Not saying it isn't well done, but I don't see it as especially wearable, at least for me. It is intriguing in the opening, but it tires me after an hour or so. This one seems to polarize the reviewers, with near even thumbs up and thumbs counts and only one neutral review. I give it a neutral rating, primarily out of curiousity as to how it would wear for a lady.

Strikes me as an inferior imitation of Creed’s Silver Mountain Water (which I enjoy). I notice a glue-like note in the opening. Bond no. 9 has better offerings than this.

Bulgari’s website lists five notes here: mandarin, petitgrain, santolina, posidonia, and mineral amber. The opening is drenchingly oceanic: no beach here. One feels 100 miles from land in all directions and 100 feet below the surface. I find it to be interesting, but not appealing. The oceanic element diminishes, but never departs as an herbal character emerges. It seems rather incongruous to me. Perhaps it will work for others, but it isn’t for me.

The Miller Harris website describes Citron Citron as " a blend of all the citrus notes plus mint leaf, basil and marjoram. It is made up of contrasting notes of citrus with spices such as cardamom, cumin and some cedar." So, comparing this to the pyramid presented here we see the addition of marjoram and cumin and no indication of oakmoss.

I am very impressed with Citron Citron. The first wearing intrigued me more than anything and subsequent wearings have been learning experiences. First, the opening citrus accord is very bright and pristine. Soon after the mint and spices emerge on top of the citrus. It brings to mind Penhaligon's Blenheim Bouquet (vaguely, not suggesting it is a copy or anything of the sort), but is more inviting. One thing that intrigued me was how different aspects of the accord were discernable depending on how I smelled it (whether passively or deeply). Later in the development, I barely detect the cardamom (which is fine) and don't detect any cumin. I give it a high recommendation and hope to test other Lyn Harris creations in the future.

Nothing I have tried by Diptyque can be considered a conventional fragrance Every scent pushes the envelope (and in a different direction) and Oyédo is no exception. To me the opening smells like grape soda. Grape soda has an artificial grape smell to it, but somehow it draws me in. I think others have likened it to Japanese muscat candies (which I have never smelled). The next thing that hits me is lime with undertones of thyme. Lime dominates the rest of the development after the grape fades away. It is intense and biting, but somehow it feels comfortable and captivating. Somehow I feel I should be hating this scent, but instead I am liking it a lot. Finally I get some faint smoky undertones.

Will I buy Oyédo? No; I can't see wearing it,except on a rare day when I feel a tad crazy. I don't know for whom it is best suited. Perhaps a sharp, mature teenage girl: I can picture that. Regardless, I think Oyédo is interesting and well-done, even if a bit odd and for that I commend it!

Early development of Z can be considered cool and crisp. I get soapy and peppery aspects as well. But the dominant aspect to my nose is a citric tartness. The tartness suggests citrus, but not any specific fruit: rather a generic tartness. Eventually soapy and peppery aspects die out and what remains is the tartness. Tartness by itself feels cold and sterile, nothing that I really want in a fragrance. I don't think it to be hideous, just not for me. Hence a neutral rating.

Here are the fragrance type and notes, per the Lauder website:

Fragrance Type: Prismatic Wood

Top Notes: Fresh and tangy, with Eden's Mist, Jabuticaba Fruit and Eden Buchu

Middle Notes: Cool, invigorating, energetic with Mediterranean Accord, a blend of Lavender Absolute, Provence Sage, Tarragon and Thyme

Base Notes: Unfolds a masculine sensuality with Golden Melaleuca Bark, Eden Vetiver, Beach Wood, Oak Moss and Patchouli

A few opening comments.

First, I wish fragrance manufacturers would NOT make up bogus fragrance types to sound unique and different. What is a prismatic wood? Is it because the bottle looks like a bit like a prism and scent has wood notes in the base? To me, it is a meaningless label. If I were to label it, I would call it "fruity-woody" or "tropical fruity-woody".

Second, the one thing that struck me on the sample packet I have is the number of synthetic ingredients. Now, I have no problem with the idea of synthetic aromachemicals. They serve a purpose. Typically, on a fragrance container I will see somewhere between 8 and 12 of them. This one had 21 (can't say they are all aromachemicals for sure, but 21 chemical ingredients after 'parfum').

Third, I see some interesting notes here. I try to be literate about fruits, but I had never heard of a fruit called Jabuticaba. I researched it and found out it is a grape like fruit from Brazil that has anti-inflammatory and anti-carcinogenic compounds. Neat. Sorry for the educational aside, but I can't tell you what one smells like, though.

As to the scent itself: two things strike me here: (1) tropical fruits and (2) woody notes. There is a watery undercurrent here. It is an okay fragrance in terms of smell, but it one I neither love nor hate. They could have done a few stupid things here like make it sweeter or drench it with coconut to make it more tropical. I am glad they did neither. I am surprised it is so polarizing here, with currently an equally large number of thumbs ups and thumbs down reviews (11 apiece). For me, it a scent I feel rather ambivalent about, hence a neutral rating.

For a while, I avoided Chrome, simply because I thought (wrongly) that this was an intensely metallic scent. To me, it isn't that. There is a fresh, clean element, but what dominates is a spiciness - doubtless interpreted by most people as metallic. To me it is almost herbal quality, reminding me to some degree of Italian seasonings. Sometimes within the spiciness, I detect something else: a damp, almost musty smell that I really don't like. It doesn't grab me often, but I don't like it when it does. Chrome has a measure of complexity and that aspect I admire. It isn't for me, but it merits consdieration.

To me, two things stand out here: fruitiness in the opening and leather later on. Yes, it is complex and yes there is development. And it is not like everything out there. It reminds me somewhat of a toned-down version of Creed's Royal Delight: a sweet leathery fragrance. My mother comlimented me on it and my son told me from the distance it smelled AWFUL to him: like vomit. Well, I don't think that. I suppose I prefer "Russian Leather" to this style, so I give it a neutral rating.

I find two contrasting themes in the opening. Fougère fern-like spiciness dominates the opening, but marine elements lurk in the background. To me, I want the spiciness to move aside so I can get a better grasp of the marine notes. They do diminish and when that happens they reveal one of the most interesting marine accords I have smelled, hinted with musk and very well done (most marine accords are so-so to me, but not the one here in Fougères Marines). Recommended.

Sometimes I think Montale can put Aoud in anything and VOILA! it will work magic. Aoud *seems* to be able to make anything it surrounds exciting. That probably is not accurate, but I seem to find all of these Montale Aouds to be intoxicating.

Now Royal Aoud was the fourth or fifth Montale Aoud that I have tried. The above observation is not really a reflection on this scent in particular, but rather a cumulative observation. This one is smoother than some, fruity, with rose and spices too. I find it delightful and intoxicating, but not as intense as others. Probably not my favorite in the line and one that I will pass on for now, but excellent nevertheless.

The notes in Driven are as follows (per the Avon website):

Chilled grapefruit, black pepper, iced lavender, american spearmint, aquatic bamboo and oakmoss

I am surprised no one has reviewed this to date. Anyway, it is spicy-aquatic blend, rather generic and inoffensive. Nothing special here.

As noted by many other reviewers, this is similar to Creed's Original Vetiver. Or more precisely Creed's OV is similar to Mugler Cologne in that Mugler predates it by 3 years. The olfactory experience is nearly identical (both are clean and soapy), but I would say that I get a slight sourness in the Mugler development that I don't get in OV. It doesn't bother me especially. Mugler also doesn't last as long. I would say that I perfer OV. I like both, am inclined to get neither, but if I were to get one of the two it would be OV.

One modification to the notes listed here at Basenotes. The Peter Thomas Roth website lists the top notes not as merely "citrus", but intstead as "Wet Brillant Accord of Citrus Aromas." Well, to my nose the opening doesn't show any citrus brilliance and of any scent that has boasted of citrus, the presentation here is poor. What I get is a "burnt spice accord", possibly some cardamom and any citrus is lurking in the background. After several hours, I get a slightly sour spiciness, the burnt character having dissipated. I don't consider this to be generic or like everything else I have tried. It, in spite of its generic name, seems to be a unique fragrance. But I don't find it to be pleasant and it is not one that I like on myself at all.

Citrus opening, followed by a bitter orange-musk base. Vaguely reminds me of Penhaligon’s Douro. It is shorter lived than Douro and the dry down of Eau de Portugal seems a bit stuffy to me.

Some reviewers have described this as dry. Here is my impression: standing in a sauna and pouring water on the heated rocks. Steam rises in this dry place. That is what I get out of Steam Aoud. I get the sauna impression (not the woods, but the heat and the steam), doubtless resulting from the aggar motta oil mingled with aoud and other spices. I really like this for about 6 hours, until the aoud dies off and what remains are the other spices, leaving a relatively dull, but long lasting impression, that doesn’t do much for me – either need to refresh or wash it off. What it does for 6 hours is great though and I am quite fond of it. I give it high marks. I should add that unlike black aoud, I don’t get the medicinal opening.

The thing that first impresses me about Geir is not the smell, but rather its effect on me. Whenever I first apply Geir, I get a similar result: a sense of extreme exhilaration, similar to what I feel on the first warm spring day when the air is fragrant and winter seems to have lost its grip on nature. It is a wonderful feeling and if Geir did nothing further, it would be enough. (I am not suggesting that Geir smells exactly like a spring day, just that it affects me like one. Nor would I suggest that it is my favorite opening in olfactory terms.)

As to the scent, it is green and woody. It possesses a measure of elegance and gentleness. Very nice. I think it is best to apply lightly, as it can be too sweet if heavy. The 15 ml bottle I have is a splash bottle with a relatively wide neck and I wish it were narrower. I enjoy it in warmer weather.

The notes that strike me as dominant here are cypress coupled with violet. It is crisp, green and a little sweeter than I would like. I detect a bitter note in the opening that offsets the sweetness, but it really detracts from the scent. The bitterness goes away, the green remains. No real projection here; it stays close to the skin. I can’t really get offended by something I have to work at smelling (not usually at least). After a few hours, musk emerges and it is pleasant, but again no real projection. So-so at best.

Not wearable, but a faithful representation.

The opening is a bit more intense and dense than ginger ale (or ginger beer for that matter), but it settles to a fairly decent representation of ginger ale. A tad musty though. I would be more refreshed drinking ginger ale than by wearing this scent.

Wonderful execution. The aoud is not as medicinal in the opening as in say Black Aoud and the rose presentation is exquisite. Very rich and sensual. Lasts about 3-4 hours on my skin. Relatively short longevity is the sole drawback. Still an outstanding scent and highly recommended.

Reminds me a lot of the smell of Coast soap (which I used on occasion years ago). Citrus on top, woods beneath, but overall rather generic, clean aquatic type scent. Nothing remarkable here and a bit boring.

Interestingly, I see that Luca Turin in the book "Perfumes" states that this is "probably the worst masculine in production today."

One of the most unpleasant fragrances I have ever smelled, instantly nauseating to me whether on paper or skin. Zero stars on a scale of 1 to 5.

Subesequent to writing this, I noted that Tania Sanchez, in the book "Perfumes" gives it her lowest rating (1 star) and describes it as "one of the worst ever." I agree.

Green Valley (GV) instantly reminded me of both Green Irish Tweed (GIT) and Silver Mountain Water (SMW). But GV puzzled me for a long time; unlike SMW which I like and GIT which I think is okay, but unexciting, I did not like GV. I could not put my finger on it and it took me about 8 distinct applications to get to a point of understanding why I don’t like GV.

First, I would note why GV reminds me of GIT and SMW: both GIT and GV have notes of violet leaves and sandalwood and GV and SMW both have notes of blackcurrant and musk. If one thinks of notes as analogous to genes in living things, one could see GIT and SMW as olfactory “parents” (or ancestors) of GV. Note that GIT hit the market in 1985 and SMW in 1995. GV arrived in 1999. In my judgment, GV was created with SMW and GIT in view and key elements (notes) from both were mingled in the creation of GV.

With that background, I would say that the two dominant notes in GV are violet leaves and blackcurrant. Blackcurrant has a luminous (or amplifying) affect on other notes. I think it works wonderfully on the tea in SMW. However, in GV it tweaks the violet leaves to an extreme, making that note overbearing to me. I guess I could have said it was unpleasant after a couple of wearings, but it seemed to be begging me to be able to say WHY? So I feel that I learned something in the process and am better attuned than I was before. And for that alone I appreciate GV! I give it a negative rating, but would not discourage someone from trying it for themselves.

Certainly “different smelling”: a blend of iodine, sandalwood, spices and musk. But different is not pleasant (iodine seems to be central here) in this case and of the Montale fragrances I have tried to date, this one is the least pleasant of them all. I would not want to smell this on anyone. As of this writing, a "perfect" record - 5 out of 5 thumbs down!

Most scents that go by ‘fresh’ are difficult to love or hate – they smell inoffensive, but they possess a generic character that is hard to get excited about either. Dunhill Fresh falls in this category and while I find it to be slightly more interesting to my nose than average, it has below average longevity.

Penhaligon’s website declares that Artemisia is the ‘aromatic partner to Endymion’ and I would agree. They both are sensual and creamy fragrances, built on different notes, Endymion with a more masculine character and Artemisia the feminine. I must say that I am impressed with Artemisia and wished it were more popular than it seems to be. It has nice floral and fruity elements and what especially appeals to me is how well executed the nectarine is in the opening – very nice! I think it is a good one for a lady. For reference, here are the notes per Penhaligon’s website:

Head Notes: Nectarine and Green Foliage
Heart Notes: Green Apple, Lily of the Valley, Jasmine Tea, Violet and Vanilla
Base Notes: Oakmoss, Sandalwood, Musk, Amber and Vanilla

It is interesting to me that several reviewers view Wall Street as similar to a Creed, but there is no consensus view on which one: Erolfa, Millesime Imperial and even Silver Mountain Water. To me, it is most similar to Erolfa, but as a caricature of it. The opening has a salty oceanic character and that is somewhat similar to Erolfa, but unlike Erolfa I find it to be harsh and devoid of any sweetness. The saltiness of sea kale coupled with cucumber reminds me of celery. Since I try to find something distinctly ‘New York’ in Bond no. 9 fragrance (and usually I cannot do so), what comes to mind here is the celery soft drink that is served in New York delis (or at least that is the impression the labels on cans of Cel-Ray soda gave me). At any rate, I find the opening to be harsh and unpleasant. After a long wait (hours), some sweet fruitiness emerges, but this feels rather weak, synthetic and totally related to the early development. I am unimpressed.

As of this writing, there are 10 fragrances in the basenotes directory with Verte as part of their name. I’ve tried four of them so far and I inferred there would be a bunch more, since the word ‘verte’ was not the basis for trying them. Creed’s UK website characterizes Sélection Verte as a “fresh, sophisticated citrus fragrance with light, clean notes of mandarin, lemon and bergamot combined with peppery mint and sweet pea.” I am not especially fond of prominent mint in fragrance and here it is a dominant note. It is fresh, cool, quite potent and I think well-executed. Eventually the mint loses its dominance and the sweet pea comes out; mint remains but in a subtle role. It is at this stage that I am most impressed with the fragrance – the drydown is something to look forward to. I get about 6 hours out of it altogether, a little less than I would like, but not bad.

I think Sélection Verte is a good choice for a mint lover. I think if you are looking for citrus-dominance, go elsewhere – here mint rules. But it feels fresh, clean, lively and very natural, so I give it good marks.

This reminded me a lot of cK one Scene (less the ginger), although they share but two notes (mandarin and amber wood, per the scent pyramid). At any rate, Calvin Klein Man while fresh, clean and inoffensive, Man does not have the depth (or duration) of cK one Scene. In a word, unremarkable.

Baie de Genièvre (BdG) opens on me as a battle between two notes: juniper berry and cinnamon leaves. They fade in and out; sometimes the cinnamon dominates, then the juniper, back and forth. Sometimes they are superimposed upon each other and when they do I get the impression of an animalic accord: or as my son described it to me, “body odor”. It is interesting to me that only one other reviewer noted anything animalic. As the battle progresses, the juniper eventually wins. Quirky and different, yet simple - a Creed that pushes the envelope! I get decent longevity out of this, a non-millesime Creed.

While I like BdG quite a bit, it isn’t something I would wear frequently. Indeed, I think I would wear it just a few days a year. It would be nice if it came in 15 ml ‘mini’ bottles or at most an ounce.

I also feel passionate and romantic every time I wear BdG: it puts me in the mood! And even though I don't consider BdG to be feminine, per se, I think I would enjoy smelling it on a woman.

One word of caution: I have bought both samples and a bottle of this that were not at their freshest. Each of the notes has greater weight in this relative simple fragrance, so the degradation was pronounced. Make sure you are getting fresh BdG should you choose to buy it.

My expectations weren’t high (mostly due to the packaging aimed at early 20-somethings), but I like this one. The opening initially reminds me of other Calvin Klein openings and I immediately get concerned that this is heading somewhere that I don’t like. However, very quickly the ginger comes through and it is in the dominant feature of this scent. It is a nice presentation of ginger, a bit mellow. It is complimented by woods and amber, clean and a bit sweet. Not bad.

Since no one has given a list of notes for this, I will do so, per Sephora: Honey Flower, Solar Musk, Orange Blossom, Osmanthus, Amberlyn, Vanilla, Tactile Musk, Tactile Woods, Vetiver. Regrettably, I am in the minority who feels sickened by the smell of this perfume. So I can’t recommend it.

I was surprised to find no one else has reviewed the most recent incarnation of Zen. Before getting to the fragrance, I would note the hype from Shiseido’s USA website (link: http://www.sca.shiseido.com/catalog/index.cfm?brand=15), which tells us that it is “scientifically created to produce calming brain wave patterns that occur during Zen meditation” and categorizes it as a “Floral Spiritual Woody” (one of the craziest classifications I have ever heard of). I would like to see test data on the brain wave patterns. For myself, I can say that I felt a greater than typical level of anxiety while testing Zen, and no, I do not blame Zen for it! I do find this type of marketing to be a turn off.

To the fragrance itself, it boasts ingredients including “water hyacinth, gentian, Eastern moss, bamboo, violet, iris and Asian Kyara wood,” doubtless to convey its oriental roots. Instead of thinking of it as a “floral spiritual woody”, I would characterize it as a “light floral woody”, very feminine and pleasant. If you like light floral scents, Zen may work for you. I think it is a decent fragrance for a lady.

Creed’s website describes Millésime Impérial as “exotic wood and musk notes are enlivened with a refreshing marine note.” I find a dominant melon-aquatic accord, quite radiant and uplifting. Far more interesting than most aquatic scents. I used to complain about longevity with this one, but not anymore. I get many hours out of it. My one complaint would be that it seems to be fickle in how it presents itself. Sometimes it feels very rich, other times it seems lighter.

Erolfa is a summer favorite of mine. When I take the cap off the bottle, I detect a soapiness, but that never is present on my skin. It is oceanic, salty and citrusy and suggests hot summer days at the beach, saltiness in the air. The dominant citrus is tangerine and it is the best smelling tangerine in fragrance that I know of. The base is the typical Creed ambergris base. I get good longevity and to my surprise even some compliments when I wear it (no, I have not worn it around Luca Turin who gives it his lowest rating in his recently published book “Perfumes”!). I limit my use to warmer weather (it doesn’t develop as well in cooler weather) and it is great for the outdoors.

I have a lot of admiration for Habit Rouge. I think the thing that impresses me most is how the vanilla is presented. It is sweet, but just below the edge of too sweet. There is a citrus tinge to it that gives it a sherbet like character that another reviewer has noted. This coupled with leather and a powdery character define the fragrance. Great duration. A classy fragrance.

Excessively sweet with disappointingly weak wood notes. Even for other Creed’s that I dislike, I typically can find something I respect about them. Not so here.

Tania Sanchez in the book “Perfumes” (co-authored with Luca Turin) suggests violet leaves as prominent here, and while it does not appear in the scent pyramid, I would tend to agree with him. Violet leaves and lime. Very sexy? Not even close. How about calling it ‘Somewhat Boring for Everyone’? Okay, maybe that is a little harsh, but it is rather unexciting. (Revised and corrected - 22 May 08).

A synthetic green scent, not really offensive, but far from compelling. The mintiness stood out from other fragrances of this type, but Hugo didn’t really appeal to me.

There are over 100 fragrances in the Basenotes directory with the word ‘black’ in their name. But there is only one ‘double black’. What does black suggest? I would like to think birch tar, leather, crude oil, coffee, molasses, burnt toast, well anything that is very dark. And I would like to think ‘double black’ should be even more extreme. Perhaps it should be a thick black syrupy sludge. But Double Black is not that, and with the exception of coffee in the notes, it isn’t really black at all. The opening has a wonderful burst of mango with pepper. (While the pepper may suggest black, the mango is anything but black). This lasts all of 30 seconds. Coffee emerges and a general tropical fruity sweetness (as if the mango is blurred beyond its distinctive character), with nutmeg. At this point it becomes obnoxious to me: too sweet and too much contrast between the coffee and the sweetness. This lasts much too long and by the time it settles I really don’t want anything more to do with it. So I can’t recommend this one.

The V must stand for vanilla here, as vanilla is the dominant note here. It starts with vanilla and citrus. The citrus fades and amber and woods emerge, but vanilla remains prominent. Quite sweet, and close to my tolerance limit for sweetness – but just below it. Sexy. I enjoy it.

Starts with a rather generic citrus opening, then ginger emerges as the prominent heart note. The ginger is potent, but shortlived. After that, I don’t get much of anything. Not especially interesting.

The opening reminds me a lot of Creed’s Millésime Impérial, much more so than Unforgivable. And if it developed similarly past the first 20 minutes, I would be very pleased to own it. However, it declines quickly and ceases to be interesting to me. So I give it a neutral rating, as do the majority of reviewers here. It is unusual for a fragrance on Basenotes to have as many reviews as Reaction for Men, with the most common rating being neutral.

Per by box, the notes are Bergamot, Orange, Lemon, Mandarin, Neroli, Clove, Thyme, Rosemary, Cinnamon, Geranium, Patchouli, “Sensual Note” [I would infer this to be Civet], Sandalwood and Vanilla. For me, citrus, civet, spice dominate here, with vanilla in the background. Sensual, animalic and different to me – I find it to be interesting. Quite regrettable that this one was discontinued.

What makes John Varvatos stand out for me the tamarind and date early in the development. The whole of it is nice enough, with the smooth ambery-leather drydown. But it is the fruity notes that are special to me and made this ‘must have’ for me. Good projection. I have gotten compliments for it. Good duration. Recommended.

Why try Djedi? What struck me is that before mine there are but six reviews, all positive, several of which describe Djedi as not just a fragrance, but as an experience. While many fragrances reviewed on Basenotes produce intense reactions, few seem to rival the effects of Djedi.

Curiosity got the best of me, so I obtained a small decant of the vintage parfum (not the reissue). Was it worth it? Yes! Dark, earthy, pungent, austere and unlike anything I have ever tried. A great scent to support introspective thinking and quiet contemplation. I cannot help but wonder how wearers were affected and impressed by Djedi in the 1920s.

It starts with cool tangerine and morphs into a warm black currant and musk accord. To my nose the drydown has a soapy character. Not very long lasting on my skin. Worth a try, but I nothing I would buy.

Cyprès-Musc was the first Creed I tried and it remains a favorite of mine. I see it as a scent of ‘cool-warm’ contrasts: a cool, crisp Cypress wood, wrapped in a warm musk, supported by oakmoss. I think of it as an autumn scent: it suggests to me a walk in woods on late day in Indian Summer. The scent of pine needles on the trail fills the air; the heat of sun is felt, but in a quiet way. Intensely coniferous in its opening, I realize it won’t be for everyone. A rather simple scent, but unique. It lasts 12+ hours on me.

This was the first feminine perfume I have recollection of smelling. It was my mother’s perfume and I remember it from my teen years and before. L’Aimant had a consistently negative effect on me. Whenever my mother sprayed it and I was on within 20 feet of her bedroom, I would become lightheaded and get a headache: a precursor of migraines to come. This was a heavy, powdery, aldehydic scent and one that gave me a negative view of women’s perfumes in general until I was well into my 20s.

Zeste Mandarine Pamplemousse (ZMP) reminds me of two other citrus-based Creeds, namely Citrus Bigarrade and Neroli Sauvage. And of the three, ZMP is the least memorable. ZMP is similar to Citrus Bigarrade (both have citrus and floral notes), but I find the citrus opening in Citrus Bigarrade to be brighter and fresher.

Moving from comparison to description, ZMP opens with a tart, watery citrus. Floral and woody notes then emerge. I get decent longevity out of it, but I don’t find it especially interesting or compelling. I also don’t see it as well-suited for a woman, although Creed lists it as unisex.

I make a point to read other reviewer’s comments to see if their words capture my experience. As I was having difficulty describing Bulgari Pour Homme, I was relieved to find one reviewer describe it as having a “musty metallic accord”. I could not have said it any better. I get that for 3+ hours and then the metal fades. Mustiness remains, so I must give it a thumbs down (pun intended).

Rochas Man was my first gourmand experience and it remains a favorite. Mocha and vanilla are prominent here and while the presentation is sweet, I do not find it to be excessively so (I do not like excessively sweet scents). I prefer this to Bond’s New Haarlem, which is similar, but darker and less sweet. To my nose, I get a tinge of anise in the opening. It isn’t listed in the notes and perhaps it is just my perception of the opening accord. Anise is something I am not fond of, but it is very light here, and I actually like it. This dissipates quickly and the mocha and vanilla dominate, anchored by green notes in the background. It sounds incongruous but it actually works quite well. Great longevity. Very sexy!

My relationship with Terre d’Hermes has been all over the map: from hate, to love, to indifference. On my first wearing (in 2006), my experience was totally negative: all I can recollect of it now was how peppery I perceived it. Subsequently in the summer of 2007, I acquired a sample vial and gave it another try: and I absolutely loved it. So much that I bought a bottle. What hit me in the summer of 2007? I would say it was the mingling of grapefruit and dry earthy notes and my perception that the grapefruit would last for a very long time. Subsequent to the summer, I get just the earthy/metallic mix with the grapefruit in the background. I find it tolerable, but just that – not really lovable.

For myself, it seems I only get the best out of TdH in the heat of summer. I will test that theory when it warms up. If it holds, I will only wear it in the summer. And I will change my neutral rating to a thumbs up.

I like the smell of GIT very much, but I cannot say that this is how I would like to smell. I would like my bedding to smell like after being fresh out of the dryer. Indeed GIT reminds me of the smell of some laundry detergents and fabric softeners – very clean and slightly floral. I suspect violet leaves are the dominant note here and while I get decent longevity I cannot say that I get the typical Creed ambergris drydown.

In view of the existence of counterfeit GIT that has been discussed ad infinitum on Basenotes, I cannot help but wonder how many (if any) of the Basenotes reviews were of a fake product. I also think it would be possible for a woman to wear GIT. I would be curious to know if anyone has had similar thoughts or success with that.

I first tried OV in 2007 and sampled it at least a half dozen times before the end of summer. I felt displeased with it, but I felt more puzzled than capable of stating any reason for my displeasure. I put it aside for many months and recently retested it. My experience is much more positive now than it was and I appreciate the deep green scent, the soapy feeling OV gives, as well as great lasting power (12+ hours on me). Masculine and devoid of sweetness. I learned something valuable here: if one cannot determine why a fragrance is unsatisfactory to them, perhaps it is better to put it aside for awhile and reassess it again (I had a similar experience with Terre d’Hermes): the conclusions may be refined or change altogether. In retrospect, I think my dissatisfaction with OV was because it was unfamiliar and different than anything I had previously worn. While I doubt I would ever wear OV enough to justify a purchase, I do think it is well made and worthy of consideration.

Bois de Cédrat has a powerful lemon opening, rich and vibrant. The base is a very elegant cedar, however quite subtle. Too subtle: I have to bury my nose into my wrist to enjoy it to any extent. I originally gave this a thumbs up on about a half dozen trials from sample vials. Subsequently, I bought a bottle, which I chose to part with. The problem is that beyond the opening it offers too little. If the woods were more pronounced, this would be very interesting to me still. So I revise my rating to neutral.

Fresh and earthy green, with a deep spicy woodiness. Very clean, but not in a modern synthetic way. Penhaligon’s website describes English Fern as ‘delicate’ – I don’t see it that way. Perhaps restrained and refined, but there is nothing delicate or fragile here. Interestingly, Penhaligon’s classifies English Fern as a chypre, whereas most of our reviewers see it as a fougère. I can’t see English Fern as unisex. It is for a strong, confident man.

Rather generic aquatic scent with a subtle spiciness in the opening. Nothing especially remarkable or unique here. Inoffensive and tolerable, so I give it a neutral rating.

For ladies’ fragrance, I tend to enjoy the smell of grapefruit prominent scents. This one is no exception. Effervescent grapefruit mingles with floral notes. Lively and pretty. I don’t care if the grapefruit is synthetic – it smells good and it lasts a fair while. Decent projection. I think it is just great for a lady who wants to feel bright and feminine.

While there are similarities between Unforgivable and Creed’s Millésime Impérial (MI), I think it is oversimplistic to say that the scents are identical. The opening of Unforgivable is very different from MIs. Herbal notes overlay the aquatic character in such a way that they blunt it. I find the opening to be disappointing compared to MI. (I think Kenneth Cole’s Reaction is much more similar to MI in its opening, but develops differently). After about 30 minutes, Unforgivable’s fruity-aquatic character begin to dominate, and yes here we see a strong similarity to MI. However, it is not as potent as MI, nor as long lasting. There are some pleasant and interesting ‘purer’ (i.e., not fruity) aquatic notes later on that I find enjoyable and different than MIs. Overall, I think Unforgivable is less interesting than MI and should not be viewed as a substitute. I think it has merits of its own and certainly I cannot fault anyone for choosing it. I don’t have enthusiasm to buy it for myself.

For the first 90 minutes, it reminds me of stagnant water mingled with a bitter note. I don’t like either aspect. Then it becomes faint and clean; tolerable, but dull. And certainly not worth the wait. Notes (per Luckyscent) are green tea, nutmeg, bergamot. Not recommended.

Douro has qualities which are similar to Blenheim’s Bouquet (BB) and some that are opposite. It conveys a sense of dignity, reserve and class, much like BB. But while BB is has cool freshness to it, Douro has a warmth. Penhaligon’s classifies Douro as an aromatic. The opening is soapy clean, with bergamot and lime dominating. Sandalwood and musk are in the base, giving a warmth to it. Undisputably masculine.

Penhaligon’s describes Cornubia as a semi-oriental. Published notes are as follows:

Head Notes: Mandarin
Heart Notes: Freesia, Neroli, Orange Blossom, Jasmine and Heliotrope
Base Notes: Vanilla, Musk, Woods and Amber

Cornubia is a sweet fruity-floral scent with a good measure of vanilla. Very feminine, very bright, very sensual. (The Penhaligon website describes it as “dark”. I sense nothing dark here at all). Quite pleasant and while I do not like it as much as Penhaligon’s other feminine semi-oriental, Artemesia (a favorite of mine), I do think Cornubia deserved more attention. Indeed, as of this writing, it is being phased out and is not being stocked in the USA. And I am but the second reviewer of this wonderful scent on Basenotes! Recommended for ladies.

A really well-executed blend of citrus, herbs and rose. Very bright and sunny, I find it to be uplifting. A great introduction to rose for the man who may feel timid about rose in a man’s scent. I think it is better suited for a man than a woman. Its place as a classic is well-deserved. It lasts about 4 hours per application on me.

The opening lavender note is a bit sharper than I would like, but it settles down nicely. Wonderfully elegant woods here, very masculine, great projection, great longevity, great drydown. I would say that the dry down peaks at about the 8 hour mark for me and I get at least 12 hours altogether. A real mood lifter for me. One of my favorite Creeds.

I am not usually fond of coconut, but I find it to be tempered by the lime, making it balanced. The rum and musk accord that emerges is pleasant. A playful Creed, very different than any other I have tried. I will not buy it for myself, but I think it merits consideration for summery scent. I think it would work well for both men and women.

Vintage reminds me of John Varvatos meets Pumpkin Pie. I like both of them very much, but not mingled together. Discordant.

The sun is usually a pleasant thing to feel. I can’t say that I like it when I am standing on a hot asphalt parking lot in the middle of summer. It feels oppressive as the asphalt radiates its heat. It reminds me of this scent: Le Roy Soliel has a brightness to it, but I find a persistent oppressive bitter element. This ruins it for me. Consequently I cannot recommend it.

I love the scent of pineapple, so I thought Ananas Fizz to be worth a try. The opening gives the impression of a fizzy pineapple cocktail, but fades and what remains is rum-tinged cedar. Cedar becomes dominant to my nose, and I feel a bit disappointed to have been transported from the beach to the cedar chest! It strikes me as an odd direction for the fragrance to evolve. Interesting, but not something I would wear.

Most clean smelling scents suffer from either feeling cheap or synthetic. Mark Birley is neither. It feels very classy, very clean and very natural on my skin. Dignified (like Penhaligon’s Blenheim Bouquet), but with a measure of warmth not found in Blenheim. The notes, per Luckyscent, are: sandalwood, cedar, patchouli, musk, vetiver, carrot seeds, leather, lemon, bergamot, mandarin, violet, incense. It has an airy quality and I think carrot seeds are likely to be a help here. Not especially long-lived, but quite pleasant.

Synthetic green and airiness. Unremarkable and not particularly interesting, but inoffensive.

Boss’s Soul is light and ethereal. It has a pleasant, clean smell that is too clean for my liking (as a cologne); I would rather smell it than smell like it. Citrusy opening, sweet amber-vanilla-musk in the base. The clean and light character remains throughout. Decent lasting power. Perhaps worth a look if you want a clean scent.

Guerlain puts this creation in a new olfactory family called “Luminous Woody”. Without reading that description, I felt the effect: if it could be seen it would glow in the dark. Florescent sandalwood! At points, it takes on a gourmand character and feels edible. I suspect the cocoa notes contribute to that effect. If I were to put in a family I would say it is an oriental-gourmand hybrid. I get decent longevity and I enjoy the scent. It is unlike anything else I have tried and feels familiar and foreign – it is hard to put in words. I don’t see myself wearing it with frequency, but I do commend it. Stated notes: citrus and star anise crystals, peppery elemi from the Philippines,Jasmine petals from India, Mysore sandalwood, Lapsang tea, bitter cocoa beans, hibiscus seeds, patchouli flowers from Indonesia

First, here are the notes, as listed at Penhaligon’s website:

Head Notes: Lemon, Lime and Lavender
Heart Notes: Blenheim has no heart notes
Base Notes: Pine, Musk and Black pepper

The reviewer scentemental captures my experience with precision when writing, “Blenheim Bouquet opens with a sharp, tart citric blast which is carried into the heart notes by the aromatic pungency of thyme and pine, both of which are incongruously married with a slight but decided camphoraceous note.” I don’t detect lavender in the published notes, but I get thyme (or more accurately: lemon, lime, thyme, pine). This is a dignified scent. It conveys a sense of the wearer being sanctified: not in a religious sense, just the notion that the wearer is set apart. BB doesn’t try to entice or attract, and that sets it apart from virtually every cologne on the market. I enjoy it on occasion and must say that I am impressed by it.

The opening provides an intense blast of birch tar and leather tempered with lemon. I find it to be intensely masculine, but it a rugged way, nothing sexual here. The intensity lasts for roughly 30 minutes. I enjoy this part. It would be easy (and incorrect in my case) to say it is gone after 30 minutes. What lingers for hours is a dull impression of what I smell in the opening. So it doesn’t develop, but is rather anticlimactic, and therefore relatively disappointing.

The opening has a medicinal character to it; I find it tolerable, but can’t say that I enjoy it. Thankfully it passes soon enough and the subsequent development is sensual, dark and mysterious. The rose develops beautifully. It develops and tempers the oud. It stays constant for hours; but I can’t say that it tires me. Great sillage and longevity. Recommended.

So much could go wrong here that doesn’t: it could have been too smoky, too spicy or too sweet. Instead it is nicely blended and balanced with a very pleasant dry down. Warm and sensual. I really love this one! Suitable for both sexes.

Lime dominates at first and then aquatic notes chime in. A clean, pleasant, summery scent, but not remarkable. More masculine; I don’t see it as unisex.

A very bold, detergenty green scent. Excessively loud. Doesn’t agree with my skin.

When I apply GPH II, my skin initially gets a tingling sensation, which is a bit unsettling. Almost feels like something burning. Thankfully, the sensation goes away in a few seconds leaving no evidence behind. As to the scent itself, GPH II seems dominated by Black Tea and Cinnamon early. It has a smoky character that gives way to gentle wood and musk in the base. Overall, a pleasant scent, but not compelling.

Nothing romanctic here. Just a synthetic, fruity, green scent. Not recommended.

I have worn this fifteen or so times, hoping it to click, but it has not. It seemed that on around the fifth time I wore Neroli Sauvage, it suddenly came together for me, an epiphany of sorts. But I have not been able to duplicate that sense. I note that Creed’s website describes Neroli Sauvage as “A symphony of tangy citrus notes”; I note that none of the 31 basenotes reviews to date uses the adjective tangy to describe this scent. I would describe it as a tart and spicy citrus. It last quite a while on me. Gradually woody notes emerge, but they are a bit more restrained. While I have gotten compliments wearing it, I give it a neutral rating. I am just not thrilled with the spicy character it has.

Britto For Men gets a thumbs up! Notes include rose, neroli, thyme oil, lavender, sandalwood, cinnamon, and amber. It is fruity-spicy-floral and well blended. Sensual, warm, happy, extroverted. The opening accord gives a cola-like impression to me. I am sure this is aimed at men younger that I am, but I feel comfortable wearing it.

I find that the tomato leaf is out of place here. It clashes with the otherwise clean character of the scent and feels rather discordant. And because of the “Time Release Technology”, I get tomato leaf all day. I do not recommend this one.

I dislike scents where anise and/or licorice are dominant, as in this Ungaro offering.