What female scents are even deadlier on the male?

In life, and another place, I've been having a debate on which made-for-the-ladies fragrances can work with success and smiles all round on the right gentleman.

So far I've received over 100 suggestions ranging from sublime - Shalimar - to the, if not ridiculous then slightly more unusual - Britney Spears Fantasy.

I've volunteered to try out the top picks - no sabotage please, I don't need to smell like the fool I truly am - and keep the world updated on my progress through reviews and regular posts.

If there's a hidden secret joy that you'd like to share with me - and fellow Basenoters - or a feminine frag you've always thought would go well on a man, now's your chance to have them tested out.

Basically I'm your human perfume guinea pig - treat me kindly, please.

To set the ball rolling I'm working my way through the top 20 tips I've had in so far - Shalimar and Tabu being the first two, but am always open to more pointers... so get pointing!!

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In starting with Shalimar I feel I can't be accused of lacking either courage or ambition.

Everything about this from the Ottoman / Csarina / chandelier bottle - to the genesis of the name and the perfume's inspiration in the past to its own history and reputation (yes the saleswoman actually asked me if I was looking for something for my grandmother) atest to towering femininity.

Everything speaks of confidence, of sophistication of intrigue and intense emotion.

Everything about Shalimar is woman, and a certain proud, self-aware but never self-conscious, glamorously self-posesed woman with that.

So with brass in pocket and a deep breath I take the plunge (once said shop assistant was persuaded to spray on my pulse points and not my dear deceased grandmother's)... and I find I myself diving into a pool of pure warmth and velveteen comfort, only a sensuous wave or two to knock me off balance and a rip tide to tear me under must I navigate.

Frankly, this had me from hello, the minute the tips of my fingers entered Shalimar's waters I was a gonna. The amazing richness of the bergamot and orange opening seduced me immediately: it's a sort of citrus creme, a Cointreau creme brulee.

Yes that's it, a Cointreau creme brulee, for after the orange: vanilla. Beautiful vanilla but with oodles of cream and something in the background a hint of brandy or rum - perhaps just wooden barrels in the middle notes.

For a moment I thought that the whole delicious dessert was about to turn powder cake on me, but it was a confection, a mere passing illusion and I was able to tread water in my vanilla pod pond for several hours - the only change being a few fires or were they incense cones being lit poolside and someone cutting back a flower border further afield. But that point I was too lost in my reverie to properly distinguish the notes.

Shalimar was created within a decade of the death of Mata Hari and as Josephine Baker was scaling to the heights of her fame in the decadent Paris of the 1920s. The new Art Deco style was supplanting the rotten flower of art nouveau, Jazz music replacing opera comique and the modern world was just beginning.

It's not going to far to say that I feel a new perfume age is beginning for me today...

Immense. Exquisite. And, I have a presentiment, indispensable.

Next I tried Tabu by Dana....

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A tale from my second day of wondering from the world of men into the unexplored country that is the land of female fragrances.

Having been welcomed gently into this realm by Shalimar, urged by many fine Fragranticans I broke, or rather broke into the Tabu.

The bottle is cheap, the packaging is crummy (though encouragingly lacking in ingredients), the liquid is the colour neon amber would be if such a thing were possible and the strength is Eau de Cologne.

The first shock: the power and quantity of spray. Then: the juice keeps its colour, that electric topaz, on my skin: a treacle splash dripping down from my wrists.

A brief scream of orange and then... an olafactory transportation. It is twenty years ago and I am in Camden Market in London. Not then entirely consumed by the soul eating juvenile tourists of the World, but still a place with genuine edge: where drugs can be scored, propositions made and accepted, vintage clothes tried on and vintage hippies regarded close up. Perhaps the Haight-Ashbury or the seedier parts of the Left Bank near Rue Mouffetard carry similar remembrances?

This smell is benzoin, not days or weeks but years of incense sticks and cones and resins of all kinds burnt day and night. The odour has invaded clothes, hair, furniture and is the smell not of a place or person but a way of life.

A way of life worn out by too much free love and cheap intoxicants, too many written off mornings and hazy afternoons, a clutch of failed marriages and innumerable hopeless way out business ideas.

If this was created as the perfume of a whore it is now the scent of a sixties slut now in her sixties - dangerous, dirty and morally broken.

But ah, there's more, the caravan carries spices too a little coriander, definite patchouli and maybe clove.

The effect is heavy, soporific and very unclean - I run my fingers over where the scent was sprayed and expect stickiness, a layer or film of filth - but no, there's nothing there. Perhaps the corruption is inside.

Remarkably, the dry down and later stages serve to increase the silage or at least the persistence of Tabu is impossible to ignore for me as much as anyone who comes my way.

This is a poem for fellow travellers, for people likely to be convicted of un-American activities for those on the wrong side of the law even if they were born on the right side of the tracks.

As to whether this lady goes for women or men - that's as irrelevant a question as it would have been in a commune in Big Sur in '69. Besides she's a whore - you pays your money and she's yours.

I won't be asking Tabu around regularly, she'd scare away too many friends and the family would disown me. But even in what must be her latter years, and I suspect a former shadow of herself, on an afternoon where I have nothing to do but read Gurdjieff and The Joy of Sex and contemplate my own navel she'll make great company, and god what stories.

Beside once you've broken a Tabu... there's no going back.

I have a feeling about Floris, Creed and Grossmith that these 'Old English' houses are very blurred when it comes to the gender of their scents - Cefiro is not one I'm familiar with so will be happy to give it a test drive.

Bond is a house that has only recently appeared on my radar, being woefully behind the curve New Haarleem may be a way to bring myself up to speed.

Sycomore has been mentioned by others and is currently on my programme for a walk in the park sometime between now and the holiday season.

Thanks so much for getting the ball rolling...

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Aaah. Opium. This is one I've thought about repeatedly mysefl, but never dared to try. I've been surprised that you're the first to through its hat into the ring, but I'm more than happy to consider it...

Now, Black Orchid, I have this. I was given it as a gift and only subsequently did I discover that it's apparently one for the ladies.

I've fallen in love with its bitter chocolate, patchouli and dark fruit - I get damson - and it's become a dear friend, someone that can be relied upon to escort me to a special occasion or to keep company with me other nearest and dearest when stylishly entertaining at home.

This perfume inspires in me the desire to dress up - I don't mean Superman costume - a tuxedo jacket perhaps, in velvet, claret-coloured velvet with broad satin trim.

I feel this one demands a full review.

As to it's inclination I was recently in Istanbul and found it being sampled liberally and enthusiastically targeted at young men by a hoard of sales assistants. Apparently this marketing is not uncommon in the Middle East.

To wit, so far as I'm concerned this little Ottoman wonder is definitely as much for the boys as for the girls.

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J'adore j'adore on my female chums. But yes, I can see why it might a secret passion.

I wonder if any others have experience of this in public?

Uniquely, and I feel quite surprisingly, you are the first person to suggest anything from either Comme des Garcons or Serge Lutens, yet I have often felt that there was a little ambiguity in the offerings of both these houses.

How did others react, partocularly to the du Bois?

Shalimar is simply wonderous - it's very late Autumn here in London and the weather has turned crisp and cold - Shalimar seems to beckon like a a warm vanilla blanket by a gentle fire. It's on my Christmas list and I can only hope that dear Pere Noel is kind. I would love attempt vintage Tabu, what I have is splendidly uncouth but gone in an instant.

Arpege is the signature fragrance of a very dear femme friend who has it in vintage - I have heard that it's been subjected to something of a Spanish inquisition of a reformulation this has somewhat dissuaded me from committing. Everything about My Sin from name to packaging to reputation attracts, but might it just be too much?

On the American front, Aromatics Elixir is on the programme and despite it being of mentioned as packing the machismo you're the first person to actually recommend Azuree.

Food for thought and the nose indeed.

On Estee Lauder, I've been told that this house is more resistant to reformulation than others - is this the general experience out there?

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I have been partaking of Poison - both at Midnight and during hypnosis over the last day or so - I'm still mulling my, generally positive, opinions and will share in more detail soon.

There are definite common interests with Dior Homme and Homme Intense so I feel that you should feel at home...

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I think on balance Hypnotic is my favourite of the two, but it has an unexpected resonance that might mean I wouldn't wear it as often as otherwise.

Yes, Black Orchid does have that essential component of dirt or grit that sets a truly great scent apart.

So much of Floris seems interchangeable - many of their manly offerings are snapped up the more powerful of my female friends.

Arpege - as before, has it been reformulated out of existence?

Norell, I'm fascinated, I've never heard of or seen this and the house doesn't ring a bell - excuse my ignorance but is this only available in the US? It seems very keenly priced.

Secret of Venus? Again I'm intrigued. I don't think I've seen this even in my reliable local drugstore -normally a dusty Aladdin's cave of long-forgotten fragrance. The notes sound wonderful, is it very, very sweet. Do tell more...

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Dior Addict? Interesting. I'm just forming my thoughts on that house's other poisons at the moment - perhaps given my propensity for the original Miss Dior I could indeed get hooked.

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My goodness that is random... I've always thought myself the new man so possibly I'm not old fashioned enough for coconut, fruit and white florals. It would take a brave man indeed...

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Odd is good - might try a blotter. I generally find white florals err... challenging. Having said that I'm not averse to Ma Griffe.

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Interesting what you say about vintage Tabu - so its the longevity that's very different. After the initial burst I find that it dries down and remains persistent (I won't say linear as I like the accord / dischord) but that it goes within a couple of hours. I presumed that maybe vintage changed more.

I'm persuaded to try Arpege as I have been hearing about and smelling its virtues for such a long time.

I'm not averse to furry animals and their many uses, I did grow up in a house where a rabbit's place was in the pot!

Jicky I love and regard as being beyond genders - Mouchoir de Monsieur I need to try again.

Oh if everyone were to use flankers rather than reformulations - so much more honest. And if an ingredient is no longer available why not simply date the reformulation Arpege 1997 - rather like a vintage wine...

I am eternally in your debt for this enlightened and invigorating response.

Your points about our not only being bombarded with - largely irrelevant - gender specific advertising and being conditioned into regarding certain fragrances (like colours I guess) as being more suitable for our own sex are well made and I agree whole-heartedly.

Thank you also for your support for the project - my idea really is just to think outside the conventions and to get some genuine recommendations that will challenge my preconceptions and, hopefully, lead to some wonderful scent experiences.

The biggest thanks though for such an impressive list - so much fragrance for thought. A mildly interesting reflection - I had always perceived Lutens to be an ungendered brand until I was chastised by a sales assistant for looking at items she clearly regarded as being 'for madame'.

Oh, another thing, I'm a big fan, like some of the guys over of on the female pages of aldehydes and chypres, perhaps these types are gradually are gaining a male fan base just as they seem to be losing ground amongst women, if so, I wonder why.

The final wonderful bonus for me is that, apart from the Chanel and Guerlain suggestions, this is all new ground - a different continent to explore.

I will be sure to send back dispatched of my adventures.

Thank you once again.

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Yatagan is a great one for me - though so strongly reminiscent of my grandfather, an inveterate pipe-smoker, that I sometimes find it a little alarming to wear.

Whilst I understand your reservations around Shalimar's powder, I can only say that it never comes to the fore on my skin the way it does on the blotter. However I am intrigued by Shalimar Initial as it's the way that vanilla is handled in the parent that really gets me and if as you say this is even stronger on the new scent so much the better.

I'm pretty sure that I have seen the Initial L'eau in a couple of places over here , so will give it a test run and let you know my thoughts.

Unfortunately, I feel that many of M. Wasser's efforts go rather unappreciated, though still finding his feet I feel he brings vigour and a commitment to the excitement of dry down to the great Guerlain.

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As promised, I continue to be your loyal servant, posting my guinea pigging...

Day three of my walk on the wild side and into the shady alleys of femme fragrance. Having been placed under the spell of Shalimar and being broken by Tabu, was I man enough to take my Dior Poison?

The English expression goes 'What's your Poison?' meaning what will you take to drink, or these days what will you take to get you high?

Perhaps it's this sentiment of imminent undoing that Dior had in mind when naming this 80s fragrance held by many as a manly masterpiece and much-emulated not least by the house itself with flankers including Dior Hypnotic Poison with which I am primarily concerned.

Whilst the name vein of 'My Sin', 'Vol de Nuit' and of course, 'Opium' with their suggestions of the improper, the dissolute, the dangerous or despicable may be what is being mined here the scent itself is a much more restrained and altogether polite and well mannered creature.

It is always alarming when a fragrance carries a direct connection to a memory - mother in childhood, school bully, first kiss, first boss, first wife... But when the memory is more recent and more focused then the sensation I can assure is all the more unsettling for its precision and being freshly cut.

For that is the sensation that swept me up on encountering Poison Hypnotic.

It smells of an actual luxury hotel in a busy port on the Aegean: a Levantine city known throughout the world for the production of figs. Not vaguely, not reminiscently or nostalgically. Precisely.

This is the odour of the bed linens, the almonds in the lounge, the beautifully planted and kept gardens, the towels by the pool. This is the perfume of a vacation I took just weeks ago.

So what you say? Well, here's the rub: the hotel is the perfect reflection of all this scent is and is not. The hotel was no old world glamourous grande dame, no Ritz, Place Vendome, no Savoy.

No more was it an overgrown Alice in Wonderland design boutique behemoth. No see through second Empire chairs no fascinating and impractical bathrooms.

No, the hotel was brilliantly designed in the understated manner of the Swiss owners. A Barcelona chair here, walls covered with sleek panels of walnut and beaten brown leather, five light settings for the room at the touch of a button. Wonderfully conceived and very, perhaps all too considered.

And so it is with Poison Hypnotic: the notes are in their places parts learnt, well directed and thoroughly rehearsed. But vanilla, nut, wood, damson, jasmine all come together in a way that could, should be sensuous and dark but end up being, dependable.

This liquor is an exercise in beautifully crafted and sophisticated dependability.

Perfect in a hotel, less than perfect in a perfume.

But though perfection is not achieved - can it be without surprise, excitement, the touch of an artist rather than a craftsman? That is not to say that this isn't a solid piece of work for the scent exudes safety rather than just being safe - a sense of comfort in a world of turmoil, a fine hotel in an unknown city, unseen cashmere socks on a first date.

This safety even extends to a slight antiseptic quality - noticed instantly by a friend - the caraway perhaps? This dentist's mouthwash note is the only welcome sign that this well oiled machine wasn't created by an expert committee after months of deliberation.

Would I wear it? Certainly. Both this and Dior Midnight Poison read as male crossovers. For a business meeting or away in an unfamiliar place, for a walk across town on a busy day when I want to be contained in my own little aura of inaccessibility or at home in those cashmere socks with a difficult book.

I don't mean to sound mean, and I understand one can't have grand opera every day.

Sophisticated, beautifully put together and dependable - ultimately that adds up to admirable, but impossible to get truly excited about.

What's my Poison? Well in this case certainly no dirty martini, not even a Manhattan and champagne would just be too flash. Let's settle on an excellent buttery white Burgundy.

More support for Sycomore and Coromandel - these are moving up the popularity lists.

Hypnotic Poison I've tried, liked (with reservations) and posted on above. Black Orchid I have and will post on soon.

Out of midfield comes Carnal Flower - you and a couple of others have suggested this, I love the name am but unacquainted with the odour - something about this one is drawing me in though.

Jardin d'amalfi - the pyramid reads as too citrus - but then fellow Fragranticans bring the rose right to the front. I adore rose - my very favourite shampoo reeks of roses and I've been looking for a floral the Engllish flower to the fore that a man could wear with comfort.

Thank you so much for your recommendations.

A floral aldehyde with rose. It sounds amazing if it really can be worn by a man. I will hunt it down.

Thanks you.

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Hello teemas

Thank you for the encouragement - and for the rose suggestions.

I live within walking distance of two of the World's most remarkable rose gardens at The Regent's Park and Hyde Park here in London. For four months of the year I can walk through air thick with the scent of that most beautiful flower and in the winter I get withdrawal symptoms. I've always been on the hunt for a rose floral that isn't to sickly, withered and nursing home. I hope with your suggestions I have been pointed in the right direction!!

Your vote takes Carnal Flower into the top 30 suggestions and I'll take a look at Lipstick and Une Rose too.

Thank you again for your kind words and advice.

I wore Shalimar - but in the EdT for the first time this week and think I'm in love - I've posted my thoughts above. It's now top of my wish list so perhaps Santa will be kind. I'm hooked on alehyde so it's only a matter of time until I give in to No5, also , I guess it's a kind of reference fragrance that everyone should have.... Another BN member mentioned Coty's L'Aimant as a surprisingly good analogue at a fraction of the price...

Creed - I kind of think if all the English houses as being fundamentally unisex, I'll give Jamal another outing soon.

Sous le Vent - unfortunately I would need a bank loan!!

Sycomore is very, very popular and demanding my attention immediately'

Malle's perfumes are getting a lot of nods though Canal Flower still seems to be the go-to for men.

Thanks you so much for taking the time to make these thoughtful recommendations.

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Thank you so much for the encouragement.

I'm loving my journey and learning more and more everyday. Truly, this is turning into an adventure.

You've clinched it for Carnal Flower - this will be tomorrow's fragrance.

As for Stella - that's come at me out of nowhere. I'm intrigued.

Stay tuned I will be sending daily dispatches from the front.

Assid

Woah - some truly original proposals, and running with the rose in hand - I like.

I think only Selfridges stock JHAG stuff here, whilst though Liberty do the candles I'm not sure about the scents. I will try and track down and take these dogs for a walk.

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This is a vibe that's coming in from a few sources - how would you characterise the difference? I'm really interested.

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Mitsouko. Check. Jicky. Check. Habinard. Check. Tabac Blond. Check.

All the above are in the pipeline for try out. I need to hit the Creed counter too form the sound of things...

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Is this discontinued now? It seems to have achieved something approaching collectible status on the net unless I'm looking in the wrong places...

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Another vote clocked up for Habinita. When I get a chance to do the math I'm going to list the favourites - a map of my frangrance journey over the weeks ahead.

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Yep I get the John Lewis thing totally - I'm a few minutes from the mother ship on Oxford Street in London and have seen this peeking at me. Will definitely give it a go.

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Interesting. Interesting. Habit Rouge has been at the head of my wish list for a while and the fragrant friend who recommended Shalimar to me is a habitual wearer of Habit Rouge - though the EDP not the EDP I think. I will investigate along with Shalimar L'Eau Initial.

Yes I'm getting better at holding my own with the sometimes ironically named assistants. In fact to give them their due quite a few will ask me (without batting a mascara-ed eyelash) at the female counter whether I'm looking for myself or a gift. Once I hesitated, now I nonchalantly reply, 'oh, for myself'.

Incidentally at 6 feet 2 and with size 12 feet I'm no shrinking violet.

But yes - absolutely we should wear what we want and where - that way individual discernment rather than mass market stereo-typing will come to the fore.

Mitsouko I've realised is an essential addition to my wardrobe - a sort of benchmark if you like (as is Shalimar for its followers). I'm hoping to have both of these in the bag by the end of the festive season.

I've also come to understand that certain houses come up time and time again - Guerlain and Chanel of course, but increasingly Caron, Estee Lauder and Lutens. Of these I am least acquainted with Lutens, but have easy access to counters and free to access samplers. Oh happy day.

My guess about the demise of chypres and aldehydes is that for a certain cohort of the female population, coming to their maturity in the 70s and 80s they simply carried too many associations with their mothers and grandmothers. Nothing being as passe as the recent past they simply became 'old women's perfumes'. I am sure that ultimately this is the fate that awaits the fruity florals, none of which I feel hold a candle to Piguet's Visa (which is the signature scent of a good male friend of mine).

Perhaps when that time does come to pass chypres will make their return.

What starts as niche will no doubt ultimately go mainstream. On which sharp note thank you are spoiling me with so many fine suggestions. I've one on the reformed chypre to throw in to 'Golden Chypre' from Grossmith of England. Elegant, refined and with good longevity I feel this a civilised modern interpretation of the ouevre.

Many thanks once again for the moral support and the well-informed and judiciously delivered advice.

Assid

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Thank you for your very kind comments.

I'm loving my journey - accompanied as I am by a happy band of basenoters to whom I owe my direction of travel.

Mitsouko I adore - a post will follow in detail on just how much - and I find it's longevity unsurpassed and quite incredible, whilst its poise and balance seem to be self-possession and dignity bottled.

Thank you for Chanel 22 - others have mentioned 19 and Cristale, but this is the first time this hopefully lucky number has popped up.

Carnal Flower or Une Rose will be my Sunday flavour this week depending on which wins out on the blotter.

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Gosh, sweeter than A*men. That will take some courage on my part. I have A*men and loved it for parties and gadding about for about 6 months, and though I still like it on samples and on others it never seems to make it to my skin these days. I'm not sure why. I find that there's something burnt about the caramel in A*men. If that has been transfigured into honey in Angel then it may well suit me better.

I'm in your debt for this calm and helpful clarification.

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Following a map charted out by those posting to the thread 'what made for women fragrances can or should be worn by a man?' I am on day four of my journey into the realm of female senses and scents.

Sycomore is a good day at the office.

Don't get me wrong I don't actually work in an office, but this is how I remember, or perhaps imagine, the good, or at least better days.

Every great day begins at the end of a good night's sleep. Warm, tucked up beneath a heavy togged duvet (bare in mind it's minus 1 outside) in a good sturdy wooden bed, one that hasn't lost all the resonance of the merchant's yard.

You've fallen into reverie the night before with a trusted candle or some incense smouldering its own way into sleep. A light fog of smoky comfort still hangs vaguely in the air.

Rested but drowsy, muddled but ready to go you head straight for the shower. And bang, it's a hit of the body wash, sharp, vaguely masculine undoubtedly vetiver. Like a shot in the arm this olafactory espresso sets you up for the day - breakfast, commute, the actual espresso, the Huff Post digested and brain into gear you're at your desk before you know it.

Something chemical, not caffeine, something synthetic is raising your game, you're typing faster, emptying you're in box and snapping off witty responses to colleagues' questions with a smile on your face - you're on an aldehyde high.

A meeting in which you're uncommonly witty and your proposals pass in appreciative assent takes you through to mid day. Someone suggests lunch, hell why not skip a sandwich and get something more substantial - it's someone's girlfriend in marketing's birthday. She's wearing a floral. You catch it brushing passed her. Could it be Flower by Kenzo? Haven't smelt that for a while.

Happy conversation, a few drinks, a few memories and on a moment your boss is telling you to call it a day - you can't sustain the roll! Why try? You've been so creative! Given birth to a maternity ward of ideas!

The group disperses, not sure where to go, you reach out instictively for comfort: you're in the manly gift section of your favourite department store. Travel chess, cufflink boxes, backgammon, a leather backed diary. And then the realisation - it's all over. Like the best days (but perhaps not the best perfumes) it's finished before you've properly realised it began.

But there's the rest of the day to fill. You decide this is the perfect platform for more fun, you call a friend and then another - drinks in an hour, the flicks? Maybe.

The sign says 'Ground Floor; Fragrance'. There are more hours and layers in this day. Time for something on top.

Thank you MonkeyBars - you're all certainly making me feel very welcome - and I'm learning so much on my wonderful journey into the vast and - for me - unexplored territory that is female-marketed-fragrance.

Please feel free to keep posting any new suggestions; the thread is now in the 'Just starting out section' - it was moved for some reason - I guess because I'm a newbie of sorts.

My intention is to update you all on the most frequent recommendations and turn this into a route map for my on-going travels.

Thank you all again for your welcome and warm words.

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I've receive a couple of messages to say that perhaps my comments on Sycomore weren't terribly clear, a little... impressionistic, shall we say. I thought as an experiment I'd try a slightly different tack and so have set out my thoughts in what might be a more legible style. I'm still finding my voice, so if you have the time or the inclination let me know which if either you like....

In my view Sycomore is a consummate fragrance.

It starts with a natural woodiness not dissimilar to old furniture, an artisan carpenter's workshop or the shavings from an artist's fine pencils. I find this opening comforting and yet exhilarating: like being in the company of creative but caring people.

The smoke, which is old sweet tobacco only reinforces this: sophistication but with a note of definite invention, perhaps there's an element of Parisian jazz bar - le Rosebud in Montparnasse please step forward.

Then that jolt - the vetiver changes the mood - this is the spark of inspiration, but it brings with it edginess in what has been a stately procession thus far - the improvisation in the jazz standard.

The aldehydes came late for me and as something of a surprise, raising the game and the mood - a fizzing moment of invention building on the inspiration, this is the productive part of the perfume, and it's this part that I really enjoy. Those wary (or weary)of the aldehyde note have nothing to fear it is well mannered and not bossy and strident as it can be elsewhere.

The florals follow and are fleeting, but not without the satisfaction of meeting an old friend.

In fact the whole perfume is reminiscent of others, not in a copy cat way, Sycomore is undoubtedly a worthy scent in its own right. Some have mentioned Encre Noire and I understand that, but there may also be a restrained and more elegant take on the more brash Gucci Pour Homme, a fragrance sadly cut off in its prime.

Indeed, on this note of things cut off in their prime, here lies my one concern with this Exclusif: for all its composure and handsome good looks it is a fleeting visitor, gone too soon and without warning - perhaps my skin simply didn't offer the artist a warm enough welcome with other muses it may stay longer.

Whilst the modest residue makes a splendid base for some layering - Lalique l'hommage pour l'homme or le Parfum would both work well to very different effect - it seems a heavy price to pay for such a profound but passing pleasure.

""O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.'

My friends. What a day. Armed with your noble and wise words I returned some hours ago from the battlefields of the pre-Christmas perfume counters. But strange and varied wonders I encountered there. Who could have imagined such things?

Well, you, of course.

Thank you, thank you all for your pointers and suggestions for they have guided me well. And excuse me if I don't single out for special notice those of you who have helped me unearth some particular true treasures.

When I began the day doused in Ma Griffe - a minor triumph in ice blue clear winter morning (of which more later) - to rouse me from my weekend bed, little did I think I would end it in a December rose garden by way of tobacconists and the world's most superior ice cream parlour. Truly a trip in most every sense of the word.

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I am a new but serious fan of Shalimar - I recounted my first encounter with the EdT just a few days ago here. Thanks to another friend I quickly tried out the EdP - a darker quite leathery and, if possible, more luxurious affair.

I was then made aware of the Parfum Initial and Parfum Initial l'Eau by kind MonkeyBars and - what a revelation.

Flankers, I thought I had quickly learned, were to be treated with suspicion, particularly when they are of a masterwork of the ilk of Shalimar. But in this case these two family members stand as worthy, if come lately, additions to the clan.

That said I think that the use of the name Shalimar to describe both is a little misleading and, forgive me, smacks a little of tight marketing budgets or a lazy desire to catch in on a great name.

Personally I enjoy the powdery dryness of the original, I feel it gives it and unyielding and poised demeanour that sets the scent apart from the modern world. But I accept that with this sang froid there may come a little too much of the 'old perfume' feeling for many and it's really, for me, a question of preference rather than good or bad taste.

That said, Shalimar Parfum Initial is a creamy delight. The dust has been blown off the old parlour and ice cream production is back in full flow. The caramel that comes along with the central notes is not sticky brown and verging on burnt it is a light butterscotch that mixed with the best an organic dairy can provide makes for an heavenly coup de glace. And what is best is that like some Willy Wonka creation the cold sweet stuff just keeps on coming.

Are the other flavours a little lost in the mix? Perhaps, though Irises are in abundance in clear glass vases on every table and there's definitely an old patchouli-soaked new-ager working behind the counter. But hell when the organic butterscotch double cream (maybe slightly off double cream) ice cream is this good and never ending (incredible silage and longevity) who's complaining?

My only tiny niggle, is it a little bit too clean - too modern? Am I little too old for this? I will certainly be recommending for nieces and nephews in their twenties who want to stand out from the crowd. But I'll hold back just a while.

Now, the report monkeybars was waiting for... the Shalimar Inital L'eau. You are quite right this is brighter, more aromatic and in the opening at least much sharper and as a consequence it gains assertiveness. the dry down is satisfying but the major difference is much less sweetness, no benzoin (I didn't detect much before: though hell I was wearing Tabu the other day so that's probably made me immune) and not really much caramel.

The effect is of a healthier - there's much more citrus and bergamot - and leaner affair. More frozen yogurt at the hip deli than calorie festival at the formica and chrome grand old parlour. That's not a criticism, just an observation - this is a more restrained and I might say mature affair, and whilst the Iris is still very much to the fore, the floral effect is contained within the orange and lemon grove. One thing, I detect a little powder coming through in the later stages, though that might not be discernible to all.

In brief the Parfum Initial is the more luscious and indulgent affair and will appeal to all, the L'eau is more complex, adult and aromatic but may seem like short changing to those who love the first fragrances generous sweetness.

Hope this helps.

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I am a new but serious fan of Shalimar - I recounted my first encounter with the EdT just a few days ago here. Thanks to another friend I quickly tried out the EdP - a darker quite leathery and, if possible, more luxurious affair.

I was then made aware of the Parfum Initial and Parfum Initial l'Eau by kind MonkeyBars and - what a revelation.

Flankers, I thought I had quickly learned, were to be treated with suspicion, particularly when they are of a masterwork of the ilk of Shalimar. But in this case these two family members stand as worthy, if come lately, additions to the clan.

That said I think that the use of the name Shalimar to describe both is a little misleading and, forgive me, smacks a little of tight marketing budgets or a lazy desire to catch in on a great name.

Personally I enjoy the powdery dryness of the original, I feel it gives it and unyielding and poised demeanour that sets the scent apart from the modern world. But I accept that with this sang froid there may come a little too much of the 'old perfume' feeling for many and it's really, for me, a question of preference rather than good or bad taste.

That said, Shalimar Parfum Initial is a creamy delight. The dust has been blown off the old parlour and ice cream production is back in full flow. The caramel that comes along with the central notes is not sticky brown and verging on burnt it is a light butterscotch that mixed with the best an organic dairy can provide makes for an heavenly coup de glace. And what is best is that like some Willy Wonka creation the cold sweet stuff just keeps on coming.

Are the other flavours a little lost in the mix? Perhaps, though Irises are in abundance in clear glass vases on every table and there's definitely an old patchouli-soaked new-ager working behind the counter. But hell when the organic butterscotch double cream (maybe slightly off double cream) ice cream is this good and never ending (incredible silage and longevity) who's complaining?

My only tiny niggle, is it a little bit too clean - too modern? Am I little too old for this? I will certainly be recommending for nieces and nephews in their twenties who want to stand out from the crowd. But I'll hold back just a while.

Now, the report monkeybars was waiting for... the Shalimar Inital L'eau. You are quite right this is brighter, more aromatic and in the opening at least much sharper and as a consequence it gains assertiveness. the dry down is satisfying but the major difference is much less sweetness, no benzoin (I didn't detect much before: though hell I was wearing Tabu the other day so that's probably made me immune) and not really much caramel.

The effect is of a healthier - there's much more citrus and bergamot - and leaner affair. More frozen yogurt at the hip deli than calorie festival at the formica and chrome grand old parlour. That's not a criticism, just an observation - this is a more restrained and I might say mature affair, and whilst the Iris is still very much to the fore, the floral effect is contained within the orange and lemon grove. One thing, I detect a little powder coming through in the later stages, though that might not be discernible to all.

In brief the Parfum Initial is the more luscious and indulgent affair and will appeal to all, the L'eau is more complex, adult and aromatic but may seem like short changing to those who love the first fragrances generous sweetness.

Hope this helps.

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...and Tabac Blond!!

After the comforting pleasures of the Shalimar flankers this came like a smack in the mouth.

The initial moments of this one are like a drunken bar brawl between friends - boozy, volatile, unwise, violent, seemingly ill-considered and invariably ending in an ashtray being tipped over someone's head (before the smoking ban).

But then, ahhh, this settles down into something so rich, so complicated, so enticing. It is seductively, dangerously comforting but with a flint heart. This perfume is tough love in a Bordeaux tabac.

I'll write more when I have the chance to bathe in this rather than react to a mouillette. But what a discovery.

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To all who recommended Frederic Malle - thank you - though I fear that whilst Carnal Flower - a bloom in full season and truly wonderful though it was, qualifies as Unisex in the classifications so is beyond the scope of this thread. I'm sure I'll be returning in real life.

Though the whole range was being marketed - as in fact was everything in the commendably gender free and sample as you like environment of Liberty's cramped but wonderful scent store. However, there were a couple of Malle's that are officially female and fair game:

Lipstick Rose was just not right for me. My first out and out failure in the female world. Despite the obvious quality of the ingredients there was to much icing sugar powdery-ness, too much sweet violet. Just too much evertything cheap Turkish delight, palma violets the whole thing ended up like a low end Istanbul sweet shop. That I guess is the charm, but not for me.

Portrait of a Lady could not have been more different - Henry James would have been proud - for this is a woman of true determination and potential power. There is a truer rose but matched here with smoke, clove and strong blackcurrant it is caught in an undertow of intrigue and machiavellian mischief. True, benzoin does add a slightly cloying note, especially in the later stages, but when it appears it is slightly alarming and unsettling: adding sinister tension rather than sickly homey-ness.

This is a decidedly hardened portrait of worldy and perhaps prematurely world weary Lady.

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By which time, as you have probably gathered I was viewing the world through a rosey haze, though not rose-tinted glasses.

Still slightly regretful (resentful perhaps) of having to leave the too officially metrosexual Carnal Flower behind without paying it the proper attention it was due, I was glad to stumble across a stash of this house - one to which I had never been introduced before.
#Now it may be the omniscent of the moment but I'm not through with oud quite yet and the offer of an oud patchouli rose mix in Juliette Has A Gun's Midnight Oud was too hard to resist.

Woah - as our fire arm totting heroine might say - what an unholy mess - I mean there's blood on the walls from the word go with this. If tabac Blond is a bar brawl between friends then this is the full cowboy roughneck gun totting saloon warfare version.

It's great but brutal.

And whilst it softens down into something rich and sensual - think of the boudoir of the burlesque star - it's not without a fight. When I'm feeling brave and more John Wayne than Marion Morrison I will return and tell all.

It did however lead me to seek sollace, still within the confines of the rose garden, in a much more well mannered and genteel example of the rosa. Enter the highly cultivated and cultured Saffron Rose from the wonderful new black label collection of the British house Grossmith. I shan't spend too much time on this as, once again, I will be returning with a full review. But this was the clearest, truest and perhaps most enduring of all the rosewaters of the day. I am reliably informed by a source working with international students that this is the smell of the most mightily groomed wealthy young Arab men he meets.

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And so the day ended with a choice - after so many blotter and walk throughs and volunteered wrists what would I settle on?

As I may have mentioned, the Caron counter at my beloved Fortnum and Mason is a wonder of the olafactory world, a delight to behold.

A clean circle of mirrored and ribbed art deco glass worthy of Busby Berkley himself serves to bear the weight not only of the full range of bottled magic but a set of large decanters - resembling nothing more than clear Faberge eggs on Second Empire stands. Within are precious luxuriously lurid perfumes waiting to be tapped.

Here, on the first Sunday of Advent, awaiting me was Nuit de Noel. An oriental Christmas with the family from hell. But the joys of this far Eastern fracas laiden holiday will, like the adventures of the snow queen Ma Griffe have to wait until tomorrow.

A happy and weary hunter I must away to my bed.

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Before I go, much gratitude as ever ExtremeK for your unwaivering good advice. The blogs are brilliant and I'm already a fan of Victoria's.

Lutens remains a joy for another day.

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Hey there, these suggestions have been amazing.

From this and other sources I've reached a staggering 250 recommendations.

I'd love to publish the full list, but in the mean time I thought I'd share with you those fragrances that are currently the top 10 most suggested other than the ones that I've already tried out in depth (Shalimar, Dior Hypnotic Poison, Exclusifs de Chanel Sycomore, Tabu, Ma Griffe, Caron Nuit de Noel, Coty L'Aimant).

Here goes in order of recommendation:

1. Guerlain Mitsouko
2. Tom Ford Black Orchid
3. Guerlain Jicky
4. Exclusifs de Chanel Coromondel
5. Caron Tabac Blond
6. Chanel Cristal
7. Chanel No5
8. Dior Midnight Poison
9. Thierry Mugler Angel
10. Malle Portrait of a Lady

Keep your thoughts coming in as I'll be using this top 10 list to decide what to give a test run to next! So if there's a perfume that you really feel should get my attention do let me know even if it's already been mentioned by someone else. Otherwise I could be a long time getting to it...

As ever, your faithful human guinea pig.

Hope there are still some of you guys out there....

If you like power, why not suggest which scent you think I should wear and comment on tomorrow from the list of 10 above.

Anyway here's my review from today...

So, l'Aimant.

Coty L'Aimant

No 5's cousin?

A cheap and nasty imposter?

A monstrous old lady's scent that shouldn't be let out unaccompanied by a corpse?

Well, a bit of the first. A slug of the second: this is as subtle as cheap detective fiction. None of the third.

If you're man enough for rotten tea roses, sickly vanilla and an aldehyde kick up the ass this could be for you - it was for me.

Here's the review I posted today:

Welcome to the most unsettling afternoon tea in an Engish rose garden of which you will ever partake.

Unsettling? Why? Well there's a killer at the table of course.

Ever since Great Aunt Agatha popped her clogs of decidedly unnatural causes - unless you regard strychnine as a natural tonic that is - suspicion has swirled around the village.

She had a fortune once after all, heaven knows how much is left of it and who will get it.

And here we all are to hear who it was - if that old bat Madam Coty still has it in her to figure out the murderess in our whodunnit - for surely it was a female, poison after all is the woman's weapon.

But it is so bloody hot. This Indian summer is unprecedented.

That American woman all make up and nylons has brought champagne, pink champagne. Pop, the cork, the fizz, the acid aldehyde buzz.

Who drinks champagne in this heat? At tea, in a dead woman's garden? But it would be rude to refuse.

The tea roses are nearing the end of the season, after last week's rain they are near fermenting in this fervour. There's something nauseous in their scent and artificial - cheap Turkish delight left out too long in the sun.

That American woman is applying powder, and spraying herself. Is she wearing No5? For godsake this isn't a speakeasy.

Is the clotted cream on the scones turning in this temperature? Is it the confectioners cream in those slices? Something's off? Or is it just the vanilla smell of that permanently washed Australian niece who's turned up from nowhere and her husband, no, fiance, all woody eau de cologne and sportscar.

The old bat has finished her tea - I get a blast: sweet Earl Grey.

She pronouces.

It was the gardener all along. Agatha was tired of subsidising his hot house obsessions: she wanted to raise the greenhouse to the ground sell off his orchid collection.

He rouses his musty be-tweeded frame and makes a run for it. The officers of the law are waiting. Into the black mariah with him.

That American snaps shut her her compact, impervious to the chaos and the Arizonan heat, she raises from the table. 'Well if that's sorted I have an engagement, with my solicitor. The arrangements for aunt Agatha's estate to be transferred.'

She snaps a brisk military nod, smiles her red lipstick smile, 'If you'll excuse me.' She pauses, fixes her regard on me: 'Oh of course, I knew all along this was a very male sort of a crime, didn't you? I could smell it.'.

This is a classic and subtle-as-a-sledgehammer murder mystery where the glamorous and genteel surface can do nothing to conceal the dark goings on beneath. It may all be roses and vanilla on top but that chemical opening and something musty if not downright musky going on down below lurk ominously. For once the bad woman gets away with it.

A winner for women and the right kind of man who's not shy of a rose with thorns. Make sure you can get vintage or failing that the 'creamy skin perfume' and layer both with body spray for lethal effect.