Perfume Reviews

Reviews by PStoller

Total Reviews: 31

Cellini by Fabergé

You don't have to search for the beauty in this one. It's not simplistic, but neither is it subtle. Which is fine with me: nobody ever asked Gina Lollobrigida to tone it down.
23rd July, 2021

Iris Bleu Gris by Maître Parfumeur et Gantier

My original issue (red argyle) bottle is certainly not overly sweet, as some have complained, nor do the floral notes read as “feminine” to my nose. Rather, the jasmine lends its indoles in support of the prominent orris root, while the funky musk, rooty vetiver, and moss give a deep, animalic quality to the base.

Iris Bleu Gris is a brooding, gothic iris, worlds away from the fireworks and candy floss of Dior Homme. The latter is by far the more influential, and certainly has the more dazzling opening. But I sold that off and kept this, and neither decision has given me a moment’s regret.
23rd July, 2021

Scandal à Paris by Jean Paul Gaultier

The Scandal line promises sex with Gaultier’s usual subtlety, “legs in the air” and all that. But after Tom Ford’s ads with bottles crammed so tightly over models’ nether orifices as to be practically penetrative, are high heels held high even remotely shocking? This series evokes the juiciness of scandal with gourmand honey and fruit notes. As high concept goes, those fruit notes hang awfully low.

In this case, at least, the execution is at once too literal and too metaphorical to be sexy. Scandal à Paris is, per Gaultier, the least intense entry in the Scandal line thus far: pear that’s just ripe, jasmine that’s not indolic, and honey that’s thoroughly refined, making this sweet and youthful and, perhaps thankfully, not even remotely scandalous. Wearing Scandal à Paris, you might get diabetes, but you’d never get pregnant.

Sexiness aside, the sweetness can be overbearing, but the pear at least adds a frisson of sophistication that keeps if from being revolting. Still, I’d expect something like this to have a pop ingenue’s name on it, not Gaultier’s.

Altogether too close to a drugstore shower gel to get a neutral rating.
22nd July, 2021
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Gucci Guilty Absolute pour Homme by Gucci

I'm a sucker for a good leather, and tolerant of a middling one. There are a few I can't abide: notably Tom Ford's, whose signature leather leaves me cold, with or without the unfortunate raspberry glaze. But I'm perfectly happy with Avon Leather, a virtually unadorned IBQ that might serve to "punch up" a more complex scent that suffers with an anemic leather note.

Enter GGApH, which gets hyped by some as an old-school leather and dinged by others for not being old-school enough. My assessment falls in between. It's a decent leather after the "Band-Aid" opening (which doesn't really bug me) burns off, with a mix of natural and synthetic woods that is neither scratchy nor resonant, and some vetiver in the base that rises slowly to augment the leather, giving it some needed dimension. (It's a near-glacial evolution, but it's really better three hours in than at the start.) The faint patchouli took more than three hours to find its way to my nose.

I appreciate the nod to historic leathers without going entirely retro. It's nicely done, even if a tad more patchouli in the blend might have made it more interesting. Younger perfumistos who don't know/like the vintage stuff might dig this as something different from their usual woody-ambroxan bombs (assuming they don't find it too grandfatherly). For the more mature market, perhaps the main reason for getting this would be the desire for an in-production alternative to the better leathers of the past—but since it's allegedly been discontinued, that reason goes out the window.

As I have an ample stock of iconic leathers, I don't need a FB of this one. If you haven't, though, this is a fine choice so long as the price stays low. For that, I give it a thumbs-up. Once sellers tack on the "discontinued vintage Gucci premium," though, I'd look elsewhere.
21st July, 2021

Iskander by Parfum d'Empire

This opens as a lovely herbal citrus, perfect for warmer weather. It's not as aggressively synthetic as many of its peers, and the mandarin does a nice job of tempering the astringency of the grapefruit without veering into candy territory. The development isn't tremendous; but then, it's essentially a chypric eau de cologne, so the proper magic is in sustaining the top rather than in a dramatic transformation to the base, with both the sustain and transition accomplished by cultivating the orange blossom as the mandarin and grapefruit dissipate.

I have tons of vintage Eau Sauvage (and its glorious kissing cousin, Le Galion Eau Noble), which in their pre-IFRA way are more "base-heavy" for better or worse, depending on what you want. Global warming arguably tips the scales in Iskander's favor, but since I'm a sucker for a deep chypre base—and I have easily a dozen vintage eaux de cologne, as well—I'll probably stick it out with what's already in my overstuffed wardrobe.

That said, if you're looking for a current but old-school citrus chypre with good longevity and without megadoses of WACs, ambroxan, or iso E super, I would deem this nod to Alexander the Great FB-worthy. If I didn't have this ground covered and re-covered, it would be a no-brainer.
21st July, 2021

Iranzol by Bruno Acampora

The “mushroom” opening reminds me of some ouds, even if that’s the musk mixed with jasmine indoles. Acampora says it’s cruelty free, so it’s animalic only impressionistically. In any case, the note list hardly prepares you for the scent, which stirs up vague memories of African cuisine sampled in my youth (alas, not in Africa). Intriguing on both a sensual and intellectual level, it’s good but not nice, beautiful but not pretty. It’s not the easiest wear, but I can imagine inventing excuses to wear it anyway. Sophisticated funk, this is.
21st July, 2021

Clean Reserve : Warm Cotton by Clean

Life may be too short to wear bad perfume, but still, some days are laundry days. On one of those, I decided to give Warm Cotton a go. With terms like "water accord" and "floral accord," Clean Beauty clearly isn't going for specificity in the note pyramid, which makes it amusing to read their detailed sidebar on Laotian benzoin that hypes the company's commitment to sustainability. (No shock that they didn't give the background story on butylphenyl methylpropional, aka Lilial, which is amongst the many allergens recently axed by the EU's SCCS.)

Anyway, its predictably anonymous and suitably innocuous, but I'd have swapped aldehydes for lavender to achieve a warm cotton scent. Next time, I'll just rub myself with dryer sheets.
21st July, 2021

Gold Rush by A Dozen Roses

A Dozen Roses was a sort of high-concept soliflore house: every fragrance was named for, and in part based on, a specific rose varietal. It’s a niche idea, and it got a niche pitch when introduced about a decade ago, bottles of EDP going for $100 at Neiman Marcus. Whether because the execution was too pedestrian or the line was underfunded/under-marketed, the stock was eventually blown out at TJ Maxx for 90% off, and the company folded.

Gold Rush has been pegged as a "gourmand rose" for its berry and chocolate notes. If you work hard enough, you can pick up the dark chocolate in the base, and likewise you can screen out the extra sweetness (whether due to the blackberry or the ylang ylang) to focus on the nice rose absolute in the heart. But for what is ultimately a generic fruity floral, it’s not worth the effort. And when your concept is to highlight the unique properties of a floral varietal, you get dinged when you don't.
21st July, 2021

Kiss My Name by Ramon Monegal

Ramon Monegal's promotional blurb refers to a "wisp of spikenard." I wouldn't know spikenard from lavender, but no matter: it's all all about the tuberose, jasmine, and orange blossom, while the base is less about distinct notes than a warm woody accord thankfully devoid of aromachemical harshness. While I'm not a big fan of tuberose or jasmine, per se, it all depends what one does with them. Monegal may not have done anything especially noteworthy here, but he's blended it well, he's respected his principle materials, and he's not obligated to craft something to my taste.

Choosing amongst the seemingly infinite number of jasmine-buttressed feminine tuberose perfumes, one might well do better, but one could certainly do much worse. I wouldn't wear this again, but my wife did compliment me on my fragrance when she got home—and when she thinks I smell bad, she doesn't hesitate to say so.
21st July, 2021

Mr. Burberry Indigo by Burberry

I used to peel open the sticky flaps on fragrance ads in men’s fashion magazines to see what the frags smelled like. Inevitably, they all smelled the same, so I came to think of that scent as the smell of paper.

Mr. Burberry Indigo smells like paper. There’s nothing particularly wrong or right about it. It’s just as generic as a light blue horizontal stripe on a white background. Within that narrow blue band, MBI is amongst the more pleasant, though not quite as distinctive as, say, Bleu de Chanel. Chiefly, it avoids the pitfall of aromachemical aggression, which allows one to appreciate the modest charms of the genre. The spearmint is a nice touch, even if it vaguely recalls commercial bathroom cleaning products.

Perfectly fine if you don’t mind smelling like magazine pages.
21st July, 2021

East (new) by Teone Reinthal Natural Perfume

Reinthal’s narrative is of a silk shawl sent to the West on the proverbial slow boat from China, in a cedar chest with patchouli as a moth repellent and sandalwood as “the quintessential incense of the East.” An orientalist fantasy, to be sure, but a seductive one.

Narrative aside, this opens as a glorious cedar scent that eschews the searing sawdust tone of modernist cedars in favor of lush, living woods redolent with sap—an effect likely achieved with the spicy-sweet patchouli, ginger lily (not a true lily, thank goodness!), and jasmine. Longevity is excellent, as well, as befits a voyage on a slow boat, and the complex play between notes guarantees a scenic journey.
07th July, 2021

May Rose by Teone Reinthal Natural Perfume

Reinthal creates a fresh, Spring-like opening with lemon and elemi, which then part like a calyx for the rose de mai to bloom. In the drydown, a woody/spicy/earthy base emerges, which I presume is primarily amyris. I'm not getting more than a hint of ambrette seed, which given my tastes is for the best. Highly recommended as an atypical rose scent, easily unisex.
29th June, 2021

Kodama by Teone Reinthal Natural Perfume

This is capital-N "Niche" and seriously deep. The combined sweetness of the ambrette and orange blossom (and perhaps the murraya, which I couldn't identify in a police lineup) is too much for me, but there's so much well coordinated chaos here that I have to accord it mad respect if nothing else. I'm giving it a neutral based on my personal tastes, but I can easily see how it would be a winner for someone else.
29th June, 2021
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Embers by Teone Reinthal Natural Perfume

Notes (from TRNP's website): Calabrian bergamot, rose damascena, 25-year-old government-certified Mysore sandalwood, more recently distilled certified sandalwood, TRNP signature amber base (which I assume accounts for the other notes in the BN pyramid)

Sometimes, you have to let the ingredients speak for themselves, and while there are certainly other lovely ingredients, thankfully none gets in the way of the sumptuous sandalwood in Embers. Rather, it's a harmonious blend that accentuates the natural creamy sweetness of the wood. Expensive, of course, but if you love properly aged Mysore sandalwood—the 2021 features an even higher concentration than the 7.5% in the 2012 and 2020 batches—worth it, even for a cheapskate like me.
28th June, 2021

Lampblack by Bruno Fazzolari

The translucent black inky vetiver here is vastly more wearable than Lalique's drearily opaque Encre Noire. The persistent grapefruit top note even makes it functional as a sort of goth eau de cologne, if that's your thing. Kudos to Fazzolari for putting the "lamp" back in "lampblack."
15th June, 2021

Exit the King by Etat Libre d'Orange

The pepper/jasmine/muguet/"soap foam accord" combo smells vaguely vegetal and aquatic: seaweed? Not exactly, but borderline. So, the king of a sand castle, as befits a perfume "inspired by the fall of patriarchal power."

The PR hyperbole says it's "resolutely chypre," but since there's no bergamot, labdanum, or oakmoss, "I do not think that means what you think it means." (The same comment applies to "the fall of patriarchal power," unless this is perfume that hasn't happened yet.) Buried beneath is a base of post-IFRA tree moss alongside fairly indistinct patchouli, an unconvincing sandalwood accord, and Orcanox brand ambroxide.

Mild, and mildly pleasant, but not something I'd really rock as, per the title, Elvis has left the building.
12th June, 2021

Tanglewood Bouquet by Crown Perfumery

Basenotes and Fragrantica have this as from 1932. Parfumo has it as 1927. Perfume Intelligence has both: from 1927 as "an edp with top notes of mo-lu-hwa [sic]*, ylang-ylang, chrysanthemum and peach, heart notes of spicy florals and heliotrope; on base notes of benzoin, styrax, cinnamon, nutmeg, musk and vanilla" (which sounds like the 1990s version), and 1932 as "a classical floral-oriental men’s fragrance" (which sounds like a mistake).

Meanwhile, Salt, Scents, and Society—the Internet's best Crown Perfumery authority—places the earliest known issue as 1874.

In fact, it's at least as early as 1873, per ads from September of that year in London's Morning Post and the Graphic, amongst others. These ads proclaim, "The Grand Prize Medal of Merit at the Vienna Exhibition has been unanimously awarded for these perfumes, with many compliments from the President of the Jury, who said he had never seen such fine goods." The ads single out Tanglewood Bouquet along with two unrevived Crown scents, Meadow Queen and Mathiola. Other sources confirm that Crown Perfumery was indeed commended at the 1873 Vienna World's Fair.

In any case, Tanglewood Bouquet is a light, fruity-spicy floral, not ambery in the mode of a typical "oriental." By "light," I refer to both the weight of the fragrance and its sunny disposition. However, it is by no means a simple fragrance. There's quite a bit going on under the hood, with different accords taking center stage from one sniff to the next. The peach note here is nothing like a Guerlain peach, leaning more toward a less acidic orange, and that combined with the florals creates almost a honeysuckle accord, with its sweetness balanced by the nutmeg and cinnamon. So, while it conveys a certain youthful naïveté, I would not dismiss it as "trivial" or "mundane."

Complaints about longevity for an EDP are understandable—I reapplied for the sake of the review. But then, EDP refers to concentration, not performance. If this formulation is indeed authentic (or nearly so) to a natural perfume from 1873, as was Barry Gibson's stated intent, then even an extrait would likely have limited longevity relative to modern perfumes.

Not something I'd reach for often, but quite lovely nonetheless.

*Mo-li-hwa is Chinese for jasminum sambac, aka Arabian jasmine.
08th May, 2021

L'Aimant by Coty

Reading the various reviews of l'Aimant is a bit like the tale of the blind men grasping at the elephant. "It's like Chanel no. 5!" "No, it's like Bal à Versailles!" "No, it smells like Arpège!" "You're all wrong: l'Aimant is like Shalimar!"

Well, sure, it's something like all of those, and any number of others you might name from the first half of the 20th century. Roubert's veritable kitchen sink of notes allowed l'Aimant to allude to almost anything in its era—and preordained that the whole be somewhat less than the sum of its parts. It's warm, sweet, light, powdery, and well balanced, but altogether less suggestive than any model to which it's been compared. (With all due respect, Chanel No. 5 is to l'Aimant as Marilyn Monroe au naturel is to Angela Lansbury in flannel pajamas.) The strawberry note is its most distinctive facet, but the composition cuts the sweetness at the expense of anything sharp or truly spicy.

Nice? Pretty? Absolutely. But it smells like a date that ends in a handshake. Perfect for church on Sunday and virgins who plan to stay that way.

Subjectively, a neutral.
02nd May, 2021

Ferrari Cuvée Extra Rich Eau de Toilette by Ferrari

Per Marand75’s review: “Woody, warm resinous, balsamic, damp green, aromatic with moss, citrus, tobacco and leather. Pretty damn smokin'.” Which IS really my thing. I haven’t tried the extra dry, but it’s not as if the extra rich is sweet or aquatic, either of which would have been a turn-off for me. As of this writing, you needn’t be extra rich to buy a bottle; you just may need to be patient to find one. Too bad the same doesn’t go for a 250 GTO.
12th April, 2021

Lenthéric 12 by Lenthéric

Lenthéric 12 is a fruity chypre, with a rich, dark, smoky base that features a tobacco-like vetiver and, of course, oakmoss. The fruit is not overly sweet, but rather provides body and balance. It was marketed as a feminine in the 1960s, but there’s nothing “girly” about it. Rather, it seems Lenthéric had a respectful and three-dimensional concept of the ideal woman for whom L12 was composed. In the 21st century, this is easily unisex. In any century, it's great stuff.

The official story is that Lenthéric wanted to issue a perfume that would "appeal to women everywhere," and so commissioned 12 well-known painters (notably including Salvador Dalí) to paint their ideal of feminine beauty, which in turn inspired the name of the fragrance, if not the fragrance itself, and formed the basis of the print ad campaign. Variations on the story include a contest won by Australian artist William Dargie, whose portrait of his 15-year-old daughter was one of the 12 paintings.

I've seen issue dates ranging from 1956 (almost certainly a typo for 1965, the year BAT acquired Lenthéric) to 1968, but newspaper articles about Lenthéric 12 launch events in Bermuda and Monte Carlo were first published in May 1967, and advertisements only afterward. Though the number of paintings allegedly inspired the name of the fragrance, the existence of the earlier Lenthéric fragrances Parfum 12 (1928) and Numero 12 (1933) suggests that it was actually the other way around.
23rd January, 2021

Muguet D'Orsay by D'Orsay

A sweet, aldehydeic but not cloying floral, neither indolic like jasmine nor piercing like tuberose, but rather sitting somewhere between the two. It seems at once light in tone and heavy (or humid) in texture. It would be somewhat disingenuous to call this a soliflore, since muguet in perfumery is entirely synthetic. Without a reference, I have no idea how close this is to actual lily of the valley. In any case, it’s pleasant in the abstract, but not really the sort of thing I would want to wear beyond the realm of exploration.

NOTE: Launched in 1923.
23rd January, 2021

Griffi Uomo by Federico Griffi

With a cap like that, who even cares what it smells like?

Well, my wife says it smells like gold chains and chest hair. I'd say it's "of its time," though nobody seems to know exactly when that was beyond "1980s." Griffi's promo materials describe it as "a balanced cocktail of precious oriental woods, Indonesian patchouli, Mysore sandalwood, and Javanese vetiver." Nowhere does that mention bergamot, which is quite present in the opening. A couple of hours in, the aromatic top notes give way to the patchouli. I quite like it, but I wouldn't call it essential.

Except for that cap.
23rd January, 2021

De Rothschild by Frances Rothschild

From D Magazine, April 1980:

“Rothschild received international acclaim recently when she became the first American to be awarded the gold medal at the 1979 Monde Selection in Brussels for her latest men’s eau de cologne, ‘de Rothschild.’”

Seems well earned to me, if you like a dark, dry, mossy tobacco. Moves to polished hardwood, leather, and powder in the drydown.
23rd January, 2021

Turbo by Fabergé

Fabergé Turbo, "a very new fragrance for men," was launched in 1982 with a comically machismo-laden ad campaign. The English-language slogan was "Turbo: Turn it on!"—intoned on TV in a forced gravelly voice with a synth backdrop cribbed from Vangelis' "Blade Runner" soundtrack—while in France, they pitched it as "La F1 de l'eau de toilette." There was even a "$130,000 Supercharged Sweepstakes" with prizes that ranged from sports cars and motorcycles to cameras, audio system, and Apple II computers. It didn't take: officially discontinued in 1984, ad presence had virtually vanished by mid-1983, with retailers lamenting anemic sales in trade publications.

Of course, none of that tells you what it smells like. Other perfume sites state the pyramid as:

Top: lavender, rosemary, cumin, anise, bergamot, petitgrain
Heart: cedar, pepper, marjoram, geranium, cloves, fern, patchouli
Base: oakmoss, musk, ambergris, leather, tonka

Of the long list of herbs and spices, I pick up more anise than anything else, though even that is subdued. The dominant scents are geranium and patchouli with a light citrus glaze, the base providing warmth and roundness rather than distinct notes. (Leather, really? Not to my nose.) Nominally an aromatic fougère, it smells like it would rather be a chypre, if only it had some labdanum to its name.

None of this is a complaint. Turbo smells quite good, as do most Fabergé fragrances of the era. I suspect what killed it was the ad campaign, both because it was mismatched to the product and lame in and of itself. If you can get past the cheap, dated graphics that make the cologne look like a motor oil additive, and find it at the modest price an old drugstore flop merits, Turbo is a charmer.
16th January, 2021

Hidalgo by Myrurgia

BN classifies this as unisex, and it certainly could be, though it says right on the label, "cologne for men." Hidalgo is old-school fresh and elegant, a nice Iberian alternative to Acqua di Parma Colonia. Complex pyramid notwithstanding, this is primarily a citrus scent, with the floral and spicy heart notes in as much a supporting role as the base. Think Eau Sauvage without the prominent hedione, rendering this less distinctive or an easier wear, depending on your POV. I wouldn't put this in a class with Roudnitska's masterpiece, but I'm glad I have both.

As you might imagine, this isn't a performance monster, but sillage and longevity are perfectly adequate for its category. Hold out for a good price: this has gotten rare, but I'd still say it doesn't warrant unicorn money.
08th December, 2020

Lavanda by Myrurgia

My vintage bottle starts as a soapy, slightly acerbic lavender that smells natural and promises EdC-like brevity. Hours later, it’s a deeper, rounder, mossier and sweeter skin scent that makes you forget all about that SOTE you were looking forward to. Ah, the magic of now-restricted ingredients!

Not a sillage monster, which is not a complaint. Not a vanilla lavender, either literally or figuratively.
08th November, 2020

Milord by D'Orsay

D'Orsay Milord is, according to Grace Hummel, "classified as a zesty floral chypre oriental fragrance for women." I'm not sure by whom, but it's an apt description. She lists the pyramid thusly:

Top notes: aldehydes, lemon, orange, basil, lavender, bergamot, "fruit note"
Middle notes: nutmeg, mint, black pepper, cinnamon
Base notes: vetiver, ambergris, woods, oakmoss, patchouli, vanilla, musk

All this is present in fine but somewhat understated form in the EdC. It blooms more brilliantly in the extrait. Either way, wonderful stuff.

As with a number of d'Orsay fragrances, there is some confusion about whether this was originally a masculine or a feminine due to the trademark image of the Chevalier (which even threw some retailers back in the day). However, per d'Orsay's own ads, it was definitely launched as a feminine, though it is now easily unisex.

It was discontinued in 1952, and is not amongst the d'Orsay fragrances relaunched in the 1990s (or any of the subsequent relaunches). In this age of draconian materials restrictions, I doubt there'd be any point.
18th October, 2020

Eau de Lanvin by Lanvin

"Eau de Lanvin" is a fragrance in its own right, though one about which relatively little info is available.

Lanvin’s official website has a picture of a bottle much like mine—a tall, roughly cylindrical glass bottle with flat facets on the front and back, vertical ribbing on the sides, and a glass stopper (rather than the later bakelite cap mine has)—accompanied by this text:

"In 1933, true to her pioneering spirit, Jeanne Lanvin launched the very first 'eau mixte': 'L'Eau de Lanvin.'"

An "eau mixte" is a unisex fragrance, and while Eau de Lanvin may not have been the very first, it was perhaps the first in another category: the sport fragrance. An early ad exclaims, "Sportifs! Frictionnez-vous après le sport a L'Eau de Lanvin—rafraichissante et stimulante." This text accompanies a picture of a fit young woman posed as if she had just broken the tape in a foot race—topless. ("Frictionnez-vous," indeed.) Another early ad, also with a nude woman in the background, states, "Ni un parfum, ni une eau de cologne, ni une eau de toilette, mais une eau de santé. Elle est le complement indispensable de tout effort physique." ("Not a perfume, not an eau de cologne, not an eau de toilette, but an 'eau de health.' The essential complement to any physical effort.")

By the 1950s, while Lanvin was still emphasizing "the freshness of l'Eau de Lanvin," photos and illustrations placed the bottle amongst leaves and flowers. At the end of the decade, Lanvin stopped selling Eau de Lanvin as a standalone fragrance at all, instead offering versions of its classic perfumes mixed with Eau de Lanvin to create such fragrances as "Eau de Lanvin Arpège."

In the 1970s, new owners E.R. Squibb discontinued the Eau de Lanvin mixes (along with all the classic perfumes save Arpège and My Sin), and relaunched Eau de Lanvin as a standalone. The nude woman returned in demure impressionist form, but the tone of the text had shifted: "Eau de Lanvin: à fleur de peau. En l'Eau de Lanvin, il y a beaucoup, beaucoup de fleurs. Si vous aimez les fleurs, vous aimerez l'Eau de Lanvin." ("In l'Eau de Lanvin, there are many, many flowers. If you love flowers, you'll love l'Eau de Lanvin." Still, while "à fleur" means "flowering" and "de peau" means "of the skin," the entire phrase, "à fleur de peau," has the colloquial meaning, "on edge." So, though the emphasis on health and sport was gone, some suggestiveness remained.)

While conceived as unisex, Eau de Lanvin seems never to have been marketed with images OF men, and ultimately not TO men. It was discontinued in 1983.

So, what does Eau de Lanvin smell like? Described by Perfume Intelligence as "a citric-spicy masculine EdT," it reads as unisex to me, albeit on the butch side. It opens with citrus and a bit of civet, gradually fading through subtle florals into a warm but aromatic herbal vetiver and moss base. It's no sillage monster, but it has decent longevity as a skin scent, and would no doubt serve well as an "après-sport" fragrance without any of the ozonic/aquatic taint that "sport" and "fresh" acquired in the 1990s. Since almost nobody knows what this is, modestly priced bottles show up on occasion, and they represent a solid value. Thumbs up.
10th December, 2019 (last edited: 19th August, 2020)

Raphaël for Men by Raphael

Per Profumo:

Top Notes: Bergamot, Orange, Petitgrain, Rosemary, Lemon
Heart Notes: Jasmine, Lavender, Clove, Rose, Cedarwood
Base Notes: Moss, Musk, Tonka bean, Vanilla

I only have the aftershave, so I can't say how the EDT compares.

After the bitter citrus and herb opening, I get more clove and cedar in the heart than floral notes. Also, I don't smell much tonka and vanilla, which suits me fine. I find it somewhat reminiscent of the later Hermès Eau de Cologne/Eau d'Orange Verte, sans the tropical fruit.

This was apparently one of Johnny Hallyday's favorite scents in the '60s before the fire that left Parfums Raphaël in ashes, formulae and all. Not much Raphaël for Men survives, perhaps because little was produced in the first place, and not for very long.

Anyway, quite nice: it earns a thumbs up, but it's not worthy of unicorn pricing just because it's rare.

Note: The references to Mülhens as the parent company in this listing are erroneous, probably due to confusion with a series of four "Raphaël" fragrances produced by Theodor Jebe in 1986.
19th October, 2019

Lord Molyneux by Molyneux

FYI, notes stated on a vintage Lord Molyneux tester:

"Aromatique Hespéridée": clary sage, lavender, bergamot, citron, tangerine

Spices: coriander, pimento, pepper

Woody Amber: patchouli, sandalwood, vetiver, cistus, maté
15th September, 2019 (last edited: 02nd March, 2020)