I discovered OW a couple of years ago and fell in love. However, I actually traded my bottle away eventually, as I just found myself almost seeing more as a home fragrance. An interesting and expensive-smelling home scent, but just somehow, oddly not for the body. (At least not for my chemistry.)
Anyway, the only other one I tried at that time was Ta'if, which was too sour, and somehow funnily struck me as a 'variation on a theme' of OW, and one that did not work as well, if that makes sense. I would not want my home to smell of Taif, rose-lover that I am.
I did not get back into trying these until a couple of months ago while traveling in London; my BF and I decided to visit the shop and get samples of the whole line. My intention with this effort was to play with the samples and go back to purchase my favorite, hoping to find something as inspired and interesting As OW, but more 'wearable' and soft.
My BF decidedly did not like any of the masculines, finding the whole range 'rocky' and Creed-like, and commenting on a rather 'heavy hand' at the blending, as well as no discernible far-away character. However, Ormonde Man was his favorite, and one he said he'd wear if it were a gift, but consider ultimately nichey and again, Creed-like. He further mentioned that he'd lean toward OW for himself, if pressed to pick a single scent from the line. And disagreed with me that it smelled too tart for the skin. I mention his opinions as he's a rather more experienced nose than I.
As for my impressions of the rest of the women's line, I was sort of left cold. Again, many of the scents stuck me as 'spin-offs' of the OW ideal, and again none as interesting. I started to wonder if OW was some sort of fluke of genius and if she had played with it as a foundational idea in all of her other creations. The exceptions were Orris Noir and Sampaquita. Orris Noir wore like sugary vomit on me, and I actually became ill later in the day because of a tenacious little, powdery, artificial spice bit of it fuming up from my lapel. Sampaquita (I realize this is not a popular one) was, conversely, very tolerable and somewhat lovely... but in a banal, height-of-conservative-designer-offerings way. I'd maybe even buy this one, if I wanted a nondescript, well-rendered fruity floral.
Of the women's scents that struck me as OW-flanker-y, Champaca struck me as the most wearable, so much I have contemplated buying it. I find its rice-y softness and crisp drydown very pleasing and curious, if not my perfume-style at all.
As for the bottles, I find the filigree as well as the font very turn of the century, but do like the 'weight' and feel of that type-of bottle. However, again, I am observing this style-tradition on its way out, and witnessing more 'design' returning to perfume-packaging.
I might mention (Don't draw and quarter me, please.) that the decor of the boutique was hideously-pretentious, spa-like and tragically-dated to my sensibility. As a designer, I live and breathe interior aesthetics, though, and my awareness of trends is probably neither normal, nor necessarily healthy. The whole Japanese-inspired dark woods plus orange and black lacquers ('vibrant mandarin and ebony'), and ultra-zen, luxe spa-notions of the 2000-era screamed, "I need a make over, A.S.A.P.!". (The indulgent, Orientaliste, luxe-moderne look has always aged the fastest IMO; I think of Chevy Chase's hilarious gaff in Caddyshack.) Additional 'shabby chic' elements, like black chandeliers, black carpet, and again the OJ signature filigree, only further drove in the sense of this house on the whole, 'losing pace'.
Finally, did OJ pass the Nicolai-control test (My BF and I measure all under- 150USD-range niche offerings against the affordable and rather 'solid' Nicolai line.)? Umm, no, not really; it was too pricey, too riddled with perfumery- failures, queerly artificial-smelling, and on-the-whole, incapable of enchantment. Ultimately, I like the idea of OJ candles most of all.
But that's just my opinion!