Lomani by Lomani, 1987

When one tires of classical music, fine damask, demurely sophisticated ladies, and haute cuisine, the radio dial turns to some heavy, uncomplicated guitar riffs and lyrics that speak of sex, drugs, and rock & roll. Pull up to the drive-thru, get a juicy burger, crispy fries, and real ice cream shake from the best fast food joint in town, and turn that mother up. Growl your eight-cylinder down the boulevard and shake the booties of the local honies. Sometimes, that's just what the doctor ordered. Lomani pour Homme's opening blast is 80s all the way -- the barrier to entry to see if you're cool enough to join the gang. The catch is lemon plus camphor, or to some noses, floor cleaner. It's so sharp and crude that it scares away all the wusses who can't handle your bright orange muscle car. But there is a balance to it: something resembling the bitter flavor of lemon zest with its green stem, with just enough stimulating synthetic feel to make it glisten. The star of the composition is coriander seed, one of my favorite spices in both food and fragrance. Its lemony softness is just right in Lomani, forming an effective bridge between the sharp opening and later phases. The drydown offers the simple pleasures of a barely sweetened moss and coumarin with a touch of manly patchouli: perhaps the most satisfying fougere base out there. That guy in the camaro actually gardens, what do you know! Note: this review is of the new juice, presumably with less oakmoss (and more tree moss?) than the vintage. While dirt-cheap, it is not particularly potent, so apply liberally and often: the base notes are underdosed. Layer away my friends. And give your 440cc an extra rev or two for Mssr. Lomani.