Sandringham (1873)
by Crown Perfumery

Some have called this a chypre, but the predominance of lavender in it makes it seem more of a fougère to me. That is neither here nor there, I suppose. What is interesting about this is the sort of old-world, old-school masculine vibe that was so dominant in men's scents until thirty years ago or so. Dating from 1873, Sandringham (named for Sandringham House, a crown estate of the British royal family in Norfolk) seems like a snapshot of mid-to-late-Victorian masculine elegance and (perhaps not too happily) probity. It does have a bit of the stuffed shirt about it. At the same time, the woody base in the back note is a tad rougher, leading the redoubtable Baron de Charlus (channeled as archly as ever by our own Naed_Nitram) to allege that it has "perhaps a hint of the royal brothel about it." The drydown is softer, and comes fairly promptly, though it lasts quite a long time. In fact, for longevity, this is one of the more remarkable scents. It is getting hard to find, as with so many bygone classics; nonetheless lovers of period pieces will quite likely adore this.

A wonderful scent. To me the scent is as regal as Penhaligon's Blenheim Bouquet, Trumper's Wellington or Crown's Town and Country. Not in the least the same scentwise but categorically at the same stage of wearability. The woodsy-herbal drydown is divine.

Crown Sandringham is, indeed, a very woody scent. So woody that I miss the opening citrus and lavender; the woods drown them out. The wood accord is not at all smooth—it’s more than a bit raw and harsh. But, strangely enough, as unrefined as the wood notes are, they have a kind of a aristocratic air about them —perhaps even more than Guerlain’s Heritage, even though Heritage is more refined than Sandrigham. In this fragrance, there is basically only one wood accord and that particular accord is tenacious. There is no letup for hours—its longevity is excellent. I really like this fragrance. I do consider woods my favorite category of fragrances, but, even more than that, Sandringham is so in-your-face, arrogantly aristocratic that I just gotta love it.

Ugh, I so wanted to like this one based on the reviews below, but my God it's the first fragrance I've ever worn that I found repugnant: a harsh, abrasive, lemon start that dries down to a harsh, abrasive bug spray. This is one of those fragrances that you remember even after you scrape it off your skin, and in this case that's not a good thing!

As English as a perfectly tended Wimbledon lawn, scones with homemade strawberry jam and Devonshire clotted cream, or Prince Charles complaining about contemporary architecture (he's right, too). Classic, but indeed Edwardian rather than Victorian, i.e. no priggish fusty-mustiness here, but aristocratic joi de vivre in perfection. Fresh citrus opening, settling into a very refined blend of lavender and woods, with a continuous subtle floral note (and the neroli) keeping it sexy. Citrus plus wood does not get more sophisticated or well constructed than this. No matter what his other achievements, Clive Christian's head should grace Tower Bridge for discontinuing such a national treasure.

As ever the good Baron has summed it up beautifully. I do wonder what happened to the top notes? To my nose this scent almost immediately becomes 'rich, royal, sensuous and sweet'. I do not detect citrus or lavender notes. It is none the worse for that. It is a fragrance from another era but one which enhances this dull age. How could they discontinue it?