Fragrance Reviews by foetidus

This certainly is mint. I postponed testing CdG’s Peppermint for all these years because I am not very fond of mint fragrances. This one surprised me… I actually like the potently mint opening. The top is a very good interpretation of garden peppermint and the accord is bright, lively, and refreshing, and… I like it. Unfortunately it loses its mintyness all too quickly to becomes a grassy green scent, which is very nice but not really very exciting. It ends with an herbal bent to the drydown. The fragrance has good sillage, gradually lessening as it progresses. Peppermint, the fragrance, lasts only two or three hours on my skin and more than half of that is as a rather unexciting skin scent. It’s a nice fragrance – clean and natural – but it would have been much better had it continued the mint, or added something a little more interesting than grass.

Very sweet and figgy – sweet figgy – sweet figgy and jasmine: Cristobal comes on too strong with the sweet, as far as I’m concerned. There is a substantial green in the mix that doesn’t seem to be fig leaf. This is the sweet fruity fig that shows itself here. I get a little spice, but I think it comes from the carnation. I like the way the jasmine is presented, and I don’t really get any other floral than jasmine. There’s a light but nice presentation of sandalwood in the base but I get more patchouli mixed with vanilla than sandalwood. The base is a bit too sweet, but it is well balanced and has good longevity. In all, I can understand why this is an admired fragrance, but I would think it calls for a little less sweet and a little more character.

A fleeting citrus opening, and then tea… it’s a black tea and it’s very light. The tea is joined by an iris – again, not very strong, and I don’t get any powder; instead I get the weak sharp liquidy odor of the iris – it’s very light and very much in the background. There’s a slight smoke, also very far in the background… I really have to concentrate to smell it, and then the leather comes in. The leather is stronger than the previous notes, and it’s a good leather smell – I usually don’t like leather. To put it mildly, this is not a fragrance that presents itself very strongly. It’s quite weak, and it lasts about… well, I think “lasts” is the wrong word to use… It stays on the skin for about thirty minutes – high estimate. I’m well aware that Annick Goutal’s fragrances often have a reputation for being short lasting, but Duel must hold the record. Actually I like the fragrance except for its dismal longevity.

It’s a bland, soapy, musky scent. It’s very soft with hardly any sillage… in fact, it is so light that hardly qualifies as a skin scent. I smell a soft, transparent, soapy, sort of musky note – not very complex, and very uninteresting. I think it would qualify as a sort of an after shower skin scent requiring imagination – clean and slightly musky… barely noticeable.

I can see this as a scent for someone who doesn’t want to have anyone to know he or she is wearing a fragrance (it’s totally unisex). I seriously doubt that it can be identified as a fragrance – only as shower soap. Personally, I like the identifiable translucency of CK Be better than the unidentifiable transparency that Keiko Mecheri Musc delivers. 121

A powdery / mixed floral / spicy fragrance based on the wild carnation. It smells of real carnation to me – that is, I think most carnation scents smell like cloves, not carnation. This one smells like carnation, but the carnation isn’t alone, it is well-accompanied by other florals – rose, lily, and wallflower to be exact. There is quite a strong vanilla coming through from the base, too. But…the main message that I get is powder. On my skin it’s unbelievably powdery, which is a good thing, I suppose, if you like powder… I don’t. I find the scent quite strong and projecting, but it mainly projects powder not the florals or even the vanilla. I must admit that it is a beautiful version of powder – definitely not the baby variety. The dry down, though, takes this scent out of L’Artisan territory – it is extremely long lasting as a dry spicy skin scent. I don’t know where those drydown notes come from, but they were there, sixteen hours after application, the six times I tested this fragrance. And the dry down is somewhat masculine IMO. So there you have it: powdery, not much carnation, flowery, and then a long lasting almost masculine skin scent spicy dry down. Not for me, but a quality fragrance that could be excellent for the right person.

I get the sandalwood from the base immediately upon application, and that means that I don’t get the citrus. The sandalwood is soft and rich and complements beautifully the Earl Grey Tea. It gets quite spicy and a bit exotic for several minutes. Exotic in the sense of creative combination of ingredients, but the sillage strength is discreet and Malabah is uncommonly fetching and sensitive. The spices dissolve into a nutmegy rose and light powder as the fragrance temporarily moves from exotic to gentle and feminine. It’s difficult to tell when these heart notes change to base notes because the movement is so smooth. The base retains the sandalwood in combination with other woods, musk, and amber in another dry, gentle accord. This is a lovely fragrance and I admire the rustic notes and accords that are rendered with such clarity, sensitivity, and delicacy. I think it’s suitable for men as well as perfect for women.

Penhaligon’s Racquets opens largely herbal with a slightly less emphasis on geranium: It’s retro… there’s something rustic, something charmingly clumsy, about that opening accord – I love it; it has character; and it is just as refreshing as those numberless citruses that are used for sports versions. The middle keeps up the fresh greenness with cedar. There are supposed to be ylang-ylang, rose, and leather in these heart notes but I don’t get them as more than a whisper in the background. Then there’s the traditional drydown that screams the good old days in a wonderfully good and clean way. Soapy is right! Racquets is considerably soapy, but in a delightful and charming way; it has good sillage and its longevity is pretty good.

The opening comes to me as a sophisticated black pepper / citrus note. It’s refined, it’s excellent, and within about eight minutes it is already well into its spicy / floral heart. I like the heart even better than the opening. It’s rich and full ranged with the sweet delicate cinnamon, the deep dark red rose note, and the touch of resinous brought about by the incense. The woody base emphasizes cedar and includes a bit of sandalwood – I don’t get much musk, but I still get incense and rose. I feel that the base is the least effective of the levels in Opus 1870. I find the fragrance quite discreet – it doesn’t project much at all from my skin and it is short lived. The lack of projection I can accept and even enjoy… the limited longevity I have a harder time with…

Very light, fruity floral opening… delicate and subtle: This is such a transparent floral accord in the opening and the heart notes that I can’t determine the individual flowers: What I experience is a softened mixed floral – the olfactory version of an impressionistic garden landscape. I can tell that the carrying agent is tea… Penhaligon says there is jasmine tea. The base is a vanilla / musk with soft spices that responds beautifully on my skin… I don’t get any sandalwood in the base. Aartemesia is not noticeably sweet to my nose: I think its sweetness is perfectly balanced with the floral and tea elements. Of course, a fragrance as ethereal as this has limited sillage and I wouldn’t have it any other way. For the type of fragrance it is, it seems to have better longevity than expected.

I’m not a fan of lavender, but this is a very nice one. It is clean and fresh – not really an aromatic version of lavender, but pleasantly gentle and natural. A few minutes after applying, the lavender morphs into a mixed herbal (+floral?) accord… sage dominates to my nose. These top and heart accords are pretty much of the transparent nature; this is a very refined, soft presentation of herbs and florals. The base brings in the sweeter aspects of the fragrance: vanilla, amber, musk: The sweetness of the base combines temporarily with the herbals before it loses the herbals. The base is light, transparent and elegant. Rather than being a sillage maker, Lavendula is very much a delicate skin scent. It’s not a fragrance for me, but it’s lovely.

Vanille Extreme presents a burnt-vanilla – a sort of caramel – vanilla fragrance with a tiny amount of spice and a modicum of heliotrope. As with other scents like this, I think the smell is great. I love it. It could be called “foody,” but I don’t think of it as that, I think of it as a deliciously sweet wood scent. I also think of it as being okay as a masculine scent. I don’t smell any of the milk that is supposed to be in the background. It’s been accused of being synthetic, but I take that as a given for any CSP scent even before I spray it. Vanille Extreme is linear and long lasting.

First I must say that it is quite enjoyable to test a Comptior Sud Pacifique scent that doesn’t have vanilla in it. Next, this is an enjoyable fragrance: it is fruity and citrusy and berry-y with a nice support from some simpatico flowers, especially jasmine and four o’clock. Is Mora Bella synthetic? Of course it is – it’s CSP. But it’s light and playful and delightfully feminine. The dry down doesn’t come across very well for me, but I didn’t expect it to.

To be honest, I wasn’t at all interested in these non alcohol / non oil fragrances, but I decided to try this because it has received such good press. Well, this one is a winner. It smells as it is supposed to: Talk about memories; it’s an outdoor fire in autumn. I think the part about maple leaves is not an exaggeration: It smells like maple smoked bacon minus the bacon. The sillage from Burning Leaves is quite good, and it’s has excellent longevity considering its carrying agent. I’ve smelled several “smoked” fragrances before and have never even considered purchasing one of them. This one is very wearable, and there will be a bottle in my collection very soon.

A nice classic scent, well balanced, refined, refreshingly green; It’s a tiny bit sharp at first, but that resolves itself in a hurry. Citrus, green, and lavender open the fragrance in a very traditional green accord. It is rich and balanced and nothing at all original. When the fragrance resolves itself into the floral middle, it retains the green cast even among the florals. The florals – ylang-ylang and gardenia – are diminutive both by nature and by design. There’s not really very much to the heart notes… I don’t understand, why more complexity wasn’t put into it. The fragrance picks up again for a little while in the base where a white musk, patchouli and sandalwood are supposed to take over. Unfortunately the white musk is dominant; the patchouli; less; and the sandalwood, even less. The two woods have little body and stay very close to the skin. Eau de France is too safe. It smells good, it’s nicely balanced and refined, but there is nothing about it that is really catchy or very interesting. It turns out to be seriously ho-hum.

I can’t find much to say about this one except that it’s a subtle wood / spice fragrance that is beautifully refined, balanced, and sophisticated. And it is extremely subtle. It’s the kind of fragrance you can be comfortable wearing in almost any circumstance. I would swear that I get a fruit note in the opening, but it isn’t listed. The fragrance has little sillage and limited longevity. Still, it’s a beautifully made, refined, and sophisticated fragrance and would serve well the person who is looking for an subtle, excellent male fragrance.

Omnia Crystalline is a transparent and neutral floral aquatic. It has an unassumingly clean character that I can appreciate, but that’s about as far as my appreciation goes. I find it thin… it lacks breadth… it has limited movements… it is the tiniest bit metallic. It’s not at all bad, though, and if I hadn’t tested Omnia previously, I probably would be giving this a thumbs up, too. But I know how good Omnia is, and to my nose, this one just doesn’t come up to the standards of set by its progenitor. Omnia Crystal has a light sillage and good longevity.

I guess that the strong indoles of the opening are meant to deliver the Etat Libre D’Orange message. This is the third fragrance of theirs that I’m testing, and my thought as I uncapped the bottle was “Let’s see what weirdness this one has in store.” Indoles… not exactly weird, but they do deliver a potent message. I am comfortable with the indole abundance here… after all, what is jasmine without the indoles? The combinations of jasmine, tobacco, apricot and hay at first sound disfunctional, but they work surprisingly well in Jasmine et Cigarette. This version of tobacco is a wet version, and, as others have said, the tobacco does a good job of cutting the excessiveness (and in this fragrance the perfumer chose the most excessive form) of the jasmine. The hay is a very clever neutrality that calms down the potency of both the jasmine and the tobacco. But I’m also impressed by the selection of apricot as the fruity sweetener. Ordinarily I find an apricot note too cloying to enjoy, and I’m happy that I don’t see it too often in pyramids. But here it works… it really does: While providing background sweetness, the apricot smooths and makes more palatable both the tobacco and indolic jasmine. Personally, I enjoy this fragrance very much.

Bond #9’s Bleecker Street is one of the few violet leaf fragrances that I don’t find totally disgusting—this one is just minimally disgusting and only in the beginning. It opens with basil, saffron, thyme, black pepper, a bright citrus and the dreaded violet leaf, which, I think, is responsible for the strong, sharp green streak in the fragrance. Then the jasmine, cinnamon, amber and vanilla enter in and make the scent very sweet, probably as a counterpoint to the quite ordinary suede, patchouli, and moss base. It ends all too reminiscent of the older traditional men’s colognes… that green, cedar, mossy sharpness that used to scream at me in the barbershop. It has good sillage all the way through and it has very good longevity.

I searched the pyramid for what might account for this harsh, chemical whatever that I was smelling… The pyramid was no help – there was nothing in it that could account for the sharp edge. Then I read Vibert’s review and he pretty much nailed it… turpentine and camphor. There it was… turpentine… and it took fifteen minutes for it to develop into something else – into something tolerable: a rich and fully dramatic rose accord that is lightly sweet and totally engaging. The heart of the fragrance is hugely rose supported by jasmine and fig leaf that fill out and provide white and green borders for the exuberant rose. The semi-sweet base – sandalwood and white musk – moves in to center the entire fragrance. This is a dramatic fragrance and I have this strange feeling that should have been a failure… But it isn’t: It is filled with drama, passion, and movement. It’s ingeniously assembled and well named.

Much better than AdP Colonia Assoluta, which I dislike. But a completely different kind of fragrance from AdP Colonia. Colonia is a traditional EdC with all the purity and cleanliness of its Hesperian makeup – it could easily be argued that it is the best of its type around. I decidedly prefer the clarity and purity of Colonia to the complexity of Intensa, but this last statement says more about my love for Colonia than any negative feeling for Intensa. Intensa is a superior fragrance in a different way. Acqua de Parma Intensa is a light, clean, short-lived citrus EdT that is is trying to pass as an EdC. The opening immediately informs that we are dealing with a more complex composition than the other two Colonias. The citrus combines with the ginger and cardamom and smoky woods in ways that would not happen in a cologne: That opening accord it remarkable in its complexity and intensity – no splash cologne, this! Granted, it moves fast and all too soon the excellent opening has moved be to a nice unisex floral middle with smoky woods / mild spice overtones. Within a couple of tens of minutes, the fragrance has moved to a complex woody / musky / leathery smoky base – enticing, but short lived. In all, AdP Colonia Intensa is an accomplished fragrance that has apparently been given its product extension name primarily for marketing reasons. It is premium and it shouldn’t have to exist with a borrowed name.

Very pleasant opening. Much richer, and fuller than I expected, still is remains bright and clean. The rosemary, cedar, and bergamot form the opening notes and I feel that I can smell some floral – possibly iris – in there somewhere. I say iris because there’s an earthy sharp, powdery sweetness that seems as if it could very well be iris. As far as a quinine note is concerned, I’m not sure. I’m not saying there’s no quinine note in the fragrance, there could very well be, but I can’t separate it out from the others of the accord – I think the powdery sweetness obscures things… Not that I’m complaining. I love the smell of this, and I find the ingredients of exceptional quality, and the blend of outstanding refinement. Eau de Quinine is likely to become the fourth fragrance purchase from Geo. F. Trumper.

Oud opens up with minimum sillage with soft florals and whispering spices, but the gentle aoud immediately slips under the florals to create an excellent woody / softly aromatic base – delicacy and subtlety is the byword. Very soon it becomes a skin scent – translucent rose, discreet green, and airy wood – to last for hours in minimalist perfection. I find Oud to be subtle, sophisticated, and probably more feminine than masculine.

Madini says Mist is composed of lime and tropical flowers, but I don’t get that at all. I get something that smells a little like a cheap lavender and bitter herbs. That’s what stays until I get so bored with it that I have to wash it off, because it lasts a long, long time. Mist does incredibly uninteresting things on my skin.

Salma is a rather light, delightful fragrance – very agreeable notes and attractive, nicely put together accords. I really don’t get a lot of spices from it, but that’s all right – I like what I get. There’s fruit and amber and possibly a little floral. I like the peachy foundation, which makes it, I think, quite nicely feminine. The amber base is warm and long lasting. It’s doesn’t have a strong sillage and it wears comfortably.

Quite a mixed bag of herbs and spices and florals listed in the pyramid, and the mixed bag exhibits itself in the fragrance and on the skin. Soulimane is very busy, which would ordinarily be ok with me, but in this case, percentage-wise, there was a good chance that they would include in the mix, a note that I would have problems with, and they did. There is a green note in there that I dislike – not a strong dislike, but there are other notes I’d rather smell. After a while the green lets up and Soulimane broadens out, but not enough for me to smell the cinnamon or jasmine. I get green and amber… it’s a dull fragrance to my nose.

I don’t know what it is about this scent, but it’s one of the few Demeters that I feel strongly negative about. I get some salt; I get an awful lot of synthetics that I don’t find very attractive. I get a bit of dusty something, or is that supposed to be the sand? Then there’s that rotting smell that has been mentioned… I don’t mind that smell when I’m at the ocean but I do mind the version of it that I smell with this fragrance. I’m a fan of most Demeters, but not this one.

I’m a pushover for tea fragrances; I love almost the whole genre. Bulgari’s Te Vert is one of my favorites, But I can’t find the love for Extreme Te Vert. It is mostly very well done and enjoyable, but on my skin I don’t get those clear, pristine notes that I get with the regular green tea. I do detect that latex note, and I don’t think that that is my problem. I would guess my problem is the cardamom, although I usually don’t have problems with that spice; the accord with the cardamom has a bit of that sweat thing going for it, and, while I can handle the sweat thing under other circumstances, it just doesn’t fit with green tea. Extreme Te Vert smells very nice on the paper sampler, and it smells great on other people, but it doesn’t love me. That’s okay… I still have the love of the regular version. This extreme version lasts longer than the regular Te Vert.

I love a well-done jasmine scent, especially one like this that features the full-blown, indole-heavy variety of jasmine. And this is it, in spades. Not exactly a tea scent… hardly seems like something Bulgari would make, but it produces such a beautifully sensual jasmine accord. The jasmine is supported – actually preceded – by a light, almost missing, gardenia note, and together they are supported by a subtle green note. The floral accords of the top and the middle last a decent hour and a half / two hours and then move to a warm, transparent wood, tonka drydown. There are supposed to be an almond note and a licorice note somewhere, but I don’t smell either of them, and, as far as I’m concerned, they aren’t needed. To be brutally honest, I’d have been satisfied with just the jasmine. Bulgari Jasmin Noir is feminine, quite sensual, long lasting, and a winner.

It’s warm and spicy – it begins with a fast living citrus accord and quickly moves to a darker, heavier spice scent – nutmeg and cinnamon. I think it is supposed to be an exotic interpretation, but I’m not sure it works. Its overabundance of nutmeg turns me off because I’ve seen it so often in recent fragrances and I fail to understand the attraction. The spices stay and the scent becomes woodier, picking up an almost incense vibration. The movements of the fragrance do not seem to work with a natural progression… there’s a disconnection here and I don’t understand why it was made this way. There’s what seems to be a signature Etro note in there, but it’s not enough to hold the fragrance together. The musky / woody drydown does have a nice warmth to it but, before it can develop to a full degree, the scent is gone. I don’t understand Raving – it eludes me and I’m confused. Its accords have the potential to go someplace, but they don’t seem to make the effort. I don’t get this one…

Relent is a pretty fragrance with a somewhat simple, direct construction. It starts out with soft but clear citrus / lavender opening that is quite nice and it moves to a pretty powdery amber, which, with a very nice vanilla in the background, is where it stays. It’s pretty. It’s soft and enjoyable, and I don’t see it as very masculine. I believe its longevity is good – quite typical of Etro fragrances. I feel that the scent deserves a thumbs up, but it probably shouldn’t come from me because it’s not my kind of scent… but it’s very pretty.

I agree. Etro’s Resort is a fruity floral that is quite masculine: It eventually eases up on the florals; it is quite light in presentation; and it’s not very sweet. This is one scent that you shouldn’t judge by the first half hour. It’s rather dull when it’s first applied – smells like an Avon aftershave I had years ago – and it stays generic for a while. Then it morphs into a very enjoyable and masculine wood and musk scent with lime and floral highlights. Very nice, that. Resort turns out to be a decent fragrance after all, but it’s not especially original, nor is it, I think, worth the niche price.

This is the most masculine BPAL fragrance I’ve smelled so far. It opens green and herbal. I get a gray herb and an almost grass and a definite basil. It’s good, its masculine, and it’s not at all too potent. Very quickly an incense moves in on the green along with a bit of a ambergris, and these supply the complete underpinnings of the total fragrance – they stay through the whole fragrance, which isn’t much of an accomplishment because the Antony peters out very quickly because there is no apparent dry down that I can find. This would have been an excellent fragrance if it had some decent longevity.

Another BPAL gourmand: But this is a pretty good gourmand with a very good chocolate note. This is the bitter dark chocolate – the one that smells so rich and earthy, and this has a nutty note, like hazelnut, added to it. What I don’t like is the cherry note that cohabits with the two notes I do like. The end result is that I feel neutral about Vice – excellent chocolate, mediocre cherry.

This one is more masculine than most of the other BPALs I’ve seen. It’s dry, woody, resinous, and herbal, and it keeps a masculine attitude for quite a while. What I like most about Fenris Wolf is the use of the rosewood note. I love a well-utilized rosewood with its built-in spicy, floral, woody ambiance, and this one is used beautifully. The rosewood does a lot to comtribute a dark, gentlemanly character to this fragrance. As it moves into the drydown it gets sweeter because of the base’s musk and the amber. These sweeteners join with sandalwood to create a rather typical BPAL drydown – nice, but it has been done before. In all, Fenris Wolf is an interesting and unique fragrance, at least until the drydown when the house sweet streak shows up.

Milk, ginger and honey: To me it smells like warm milk and crystallized ginger. The ginger is very nice – it’s sharp and clean, just like the smell of cut fresh ginger; with the sweetness of the accord, it is an impressive olfactory experience. Then there’s the milk: the milk is well done, but it’s just not something I want to smell or wear. The fragrance is sweet and it’s more feminine than not; it has a light sillage off my skin and the longevity is less than average. It’s a very good scent if you are into milk…

Déjà vu… I’ve been here before. Actually Zenzero is very much like I Profumi di Firenze’s own Vaniglia del Madagascar. They are both vanilla fragrances and the difference is that Zenzero has the additional ginger added to the vanilla note. The ginger occurs on top and cuts the possible excesses of the vanilla. Zenzero’s ginger is quite light on my skin, but it definitely has a presence – and I’m not sure if the ginger annoys me more or less than the orchid petal note in the background. I normally dislike orchid notes; the orchid is not really strong here but it is still a bit of an annoyance… And the ginger is iffy, too... With Zenzero I get a double annoyance, even though the amber / vanilla drydown is very nice. Zenzero, I think, has more character than Vaniglia del Madagascar but, in this case, I think I, personally, can do with less character and more evenness of temperament.

This is probably a vanilla lovers dream, although I wouldn’t call it a pure vanilla scent. There is a floral – orchid – subtly but persistently present in the background of the vanilla note, and orchid is one of my major dislikes. The vanilla here is excellent. It is not an excessively sweet variety… it has a slight woody ambiance, as if they included the vanilla pod in the mixture, and I think the vanilla has a slightly heated or burned effect, too – I get a trace of caramel. I am not a vanilla lover but I do enjoy the use of vanilla in Vaniglia del Madagascar, even though the orchid rather annoys me. I recognize this as a fragrance that would probably be very dear to a true vanilla lover. It is feminine, has a soft sillage, and does not last very long on my skin – three or four hours.

This one comes across as pretty synthetic. I get a definite hair spray type response from it – kind of artificial lemon but more pledge than actual. It’s a bit musky, a bit more powdery, and very sweet. I find the synthetics somewhat a turnoff, but it’s the sweetness that bothers me the most – it changes the fragrance from a boring to being annoying. It has very good longevity. I think the man’s version is better than this one.

Soapy smelling and not as sharp as many of the other fragrances by Clean: I like this one better than most of the others, and I think Clean Lather is suitably masculine. But I feel rather hesitant about purchasing something like this because I already get the same effect by showering with Dove soap.

Nature Millénaire is an outstanding fragrance. It does take getting used to, but it’s worth the effort. It opens powerfully – too strong, actually, but settles down quickly enough. There’s citrus in the opening but it is entirely dominated by incense and spices – cardamom, coriander, and cinnamon. The result is an “earthy” scent in the truest sense of the word: it smells like earth. It’s a warm, sniffable scent, fulfilling in its earthiness and depth. It has excellent longevity. Why, oh why, was something this good discontinued? 86

I find Harmonie Creole a bit unusual for a CSP. It’s tropical, a bit boozy, Creole spicy, and root beer. Marlen’s mention of a spicy / herbal le Dandy is right on. The main floral element is orange blossom and an herbal is bay or bay rum. The fragrance provides that boozy (or maybe root beer effervescent) sparkly, tropical feeling to experience. It ends with a powdery root beery drydown. Thoroughly enjoyable and wearable, Harmonie Creole has good sillage and longevity,

A fragrance that surprised me because I wasn’t expecting it to be as good as it is. It almost doesn’t seem like an Armani because it’s so fruity – berry-y. The opening fruit are a bit unusual – cranberry and black current – two notes known for their alleged astringency, but, never fear, none of their sourness is showing. They are decidedly sweet. The florals of the middle are very nice – the lily of the valley and the peony dominate to my nose. Nice base, which would be a lot nicer if it lasted longer (I guess this IS an Armani). This is a soft fragrance with gentle silage. It has good longevity considering it’s an Armani, but its longevity could be much better.

Emporio Armani City Glam sounds like it should be trendy and cutting edge. It isn’t. It’s a nice fragrance if you can tolerate excessive sweetness, but there is nothing cutting edge about it. It’s fruity sweet, a bit spicy, and a bit floral. It has a musk drydown and ends up being reticent and powdery. It’s pleasant enough – well-balanced and even quite clean smelling in its sweetness. Its sweetness is highly appropriate for the youthful. A nice fragrance if you like fruity sweetness.

Safari opens green with galbanum, citrus with mandarin, floral with hyacinth and jasmine, and aldehydic. The green stays while the more complex florals of the heart rise up to take their place. The vetiver has been in the background since the opening, and rises to its own in the base where it shares the spotlight with moss and styrax and a bit of tonka. Just as with the men’s version, this one is a great fragrance. It’s different from most because of its dryness. There are just too many sweet fragrances everywhere… A beautifully constructed dry fragrance like this is so special...

I was hoping for something as interesting and, possibly, shocking as Kingdom, and I am seriously disappointed for two reasons: First, My Queen is not anywhere near as edgy as Kingdom – it plays it safe and it seems to forget or negate the McQueen message of revolt and audacity. Second: violet. I dislike most violet notes and there just seems to be too many fragrances nowadays that feature the violet. To my nose, the violets dominate for the first third of the fragrance, making the first third quite annoying. Underneath the violet note is a strong sweet almond (almond is another note used too often recently) and a rather strong heliotrope. There are some patchouli, vanilla, and powder entering here and there into the top and the heart notes, but they remain minor players to my nose. The main players are the violet and almond until the drydown. The base is the nicest part of all because the cedar, and, to a lesser extent, the patchouli temper the excess sweetness and provide a pleasant, long lasting, but not excessively exciting end to My Queen… I remain disappointed…

Marrakech is one of my favorite places, and the fragrance does provide a bit of the old déjà vu. The fragrance is very spicy… and even though it is not very strong, sillage-wise, there’s way too much domination of the cloves and cardamom… But it does seem to fulfill its purpose, and I would love it if it were composed of two other spices besides colves and cardamom – those are not my favorites. As dark and overtly spicy as Marrakech is, it is a rather light fragrance, but its darkness makes it seem heavier than it is. Once the spices settle down, it’s an enjoyable and wearable skin scent for as long as it lasts... and its longevity is its major weakness. I might even learn to appreciate this one… There’re possibilities here, and its uniqueness is admirable.

Mystra is an interesting scent because it seems so old and so modern at the same time. The website describes it as “Byzantium” inspired and it certainly is that, but because fragrance served such different purposes then (there’s little need now to cover over the stench of the masses) and now, the presentation is entirely today. Mystra presents these strong elements in a beautifully discreet package: The soft incense and resin… the bit of green and touch of floral… the gentle spices… the rich but vaporous woods… all combine to create such a captivating, sophisticated fragrance. Sillage is quite mild and longevity is poor, but it is so rare and enchanting.

Hmmm… I hardly know what to make of this. Is it watered down Oriental? Or perhaps powdery aquatic? Whatever it is, it is some sort of an in-between something. But it’s a very nice in-between something. It has flowers but it isn’t floral. There’s a definite amber in there but I wouldn’t call it an amber fragrance. It’s sweet and goes a bit in the direction of an Oriental, but it doesn’t seem as sweet or as substantial to merit the Oriental label. It’s feminine, friendly, and fine: It’s a scent that, if you like it, you would find it hard to misuse, and probably no one would object to it. I started out thinking that Adrienne Vittadini is a neutral, but, through testing, I have come to value its subtle powdery, sort-of-sweet ambiance and its transparent, soft, feminine drydown. This fragrance has its place.

In all these years I’ve never smelled Angel, but after years of hearing people on the boards wax lyrical about it, I figured it must be some sort of super fragrance. I’m surprised by my findings. What I’m smelling is a bit of a disappointment. I get a close relationship to A*men, which interested me because I’m not used to the male counterparts of women’s fragrances smelling similar. There is a definite relationship with these two. To my nose, A*men is a more substantial version of Angel and I like that… I don’t mean that Angel is “more transparent” or something of that sort. I mean it has less substance – it seems like an emptier A*men – I guess I’m just unable to adjust my brain to seeing Angel on its own merits. The primary notes that I get from Angel are the chocolate and patchouli: everything else seems to simply come across as a sort of undifferentiated sweetness. I enjoy A*men very much and I guess I expected Angel to be even better. It is not better, at least in this man’s opinion. I’m disappointed, but it’s a small disappointment because Angel is a nice fragrance – I was just expecting it to be phenomenal.

The original Bijan for Men used was edgy, gaudy, pushy, gross, even, but if it was used with discretion (lightly misted never, never sprayed), it smelled good. With Bijan Black, the sillage and potency has been reduced dramatically but it is an unrelentingly synthetic mediocrity whose future is going to found on the lower levels of drugstore shelves. It is a generic attempt: I haven’t been able to find the notes under the synthetics. About the only good thing I can say about it is that it is better than Bijan Nude for Men.

A companion synthetic mess to Bijan Black, this one with a strong metallic tinge that lasts from beginning to end: There is no possibility that I can ignore the disagreeableness. I would happily recommend the BodMan series or the Axe fragrances over this one – they have much better smells coming from them than comes from this sample of Bijan Nude than I have. I can’t connect with the other reviews here. It might be possible that there are immense differences in the reactions of this fragrance on different skins, or perhaps my sample has turned really bad, or maybe my nose has been out of joint the four times I have tested this… Of course, I can’t completely rule out the negative parallel universe theory…

S. T. Dupont is a classically constructed fruity floral that has some very nice things going for it. The fruit, while there, are not overly sweet or abundant. There’s tangerine and either there’s peach or the combination of notes give a peachy smell. The florals are a balanced, mixed bouquet very nicely blended – the only floral that sort of stands out to me is the orchid. The base is woody / amber with the emphasis on the rosewood – quite soft and gentle but with good longevity. Signature is a beautifully put together, refined, muted fruity / floral… Quite discreet and one of those truly under known and underrated hidden gems.

I had almost written this one off. I must have been sleepy when I first tried it out. It went on as a patchouli: OK, it was a very good, deep rich, patchouli… the kind I’ve met in several niche houses… not as smooth and creamy as Patchouli Leaves, but certainly as rich... an excellent patchouli! yawn. Well, I fell asleep for maybe a half or a whole hour. When I woke up the first thing I thought was “where is that wonderful smell coming from?” This would be a terrible story if it wasn’t coming from the Mazzolari Patchouly, and it was… the smell, I mean, was coming from the Mazolari Patchouly. That dry down is beautiful… a modicum of spices, the deep, rich patchouli, and some amber and honey. What a aesthetic accord – not lutensesque, but refined, rich, and subtle. Trebor is right with his description of this fragrance, but I love the fact that this exhibits subtlety and transparency. I’ve found another patchouli fragrance that I can love.

Not a bad fragrance. GRII is a bit different from Gucci Rush I… It’s weaker and doesn’t last as long as the first Rush. It’s a light scent, quite fresh, and I don’t think the freshness is achieved by citrus, which makes it a bit different from the run of the mill competition. I believe that the freshness is achieved with florals and a touch of green. It’s quite a floral scent, but the florals are more a mild, neutral texture than a bouquet type flowery presentation. I’m unsure of the drydown… I think I get oakmoss, which would be appropriate because Rush II is listed as a chypre and there’s also some musk in there, too. The whole drydown is quite weak to my nose – almost nonexistent. There’s not the greatest longevity to the fragrance. I think Rush I is a much better fragrance: Rush II is disappointing… it doesn’t even seem to be a Gucci.

I’m a coffee kind of guy and I wasn’t familiar with Earl Grey Tea, but I was recently gifted with a box of Twinnings of London Earl Grey Tea so I brewed a pot and settled down for this review. Hmmm. The tea has a very nice smell: comforting and invigorating at the same time… bergamot and some sort of black tea, most definitely. Nice... I think I will take up drinking this for the smell alone.

Unfortunately, the fragrance doesn’t come anywhere near what I’m smell of the Twinning Tea. There’s some bergamot in the Demeter, but it’s rather a synthetic take on it – actually a little annoying. And since I don’t put any lemon in my tea, the lemon in the fragrance is out of place in two ways… the lemon itself and the synthetics of the lemon note. Even the tea note in the fragrance doesn’t smell like the tea that I smell in the real Earl Gray Tea, of course I am in no way an expert on tea smells. I think this might be the fastest disappearing Demeter that I’ve encountered. It’s completely gone from my skin in a matter of twenty or thirty minutes. No, I can’t recommend this one.

An unusual one… so much in S-ex seems neutral to me: Neutrally sweet, neutrally aquatic, neutrally green, neutrally floral, neutrally musk, and neutrally sensual; besides that, it’s unisex. To give an idea of how neutral this scent seems to me, I usually dislike leather notes in fragrances but these leathers are neutral to me. I am unable to slap a descriptive label on to that neutrality except that it isn’t the well-known cardboard accord, nor is it a hairspray accord or a metallic accord. “Salty” is about as close as I can get, and yet it isn’t salty. It has a certain suggestive S-exual innuendo that I find engaging but personally unnecessary, and I do not find it vulgar or even obvious.

It’s an interesting and unique fragrance, I wouldn’t call pleasant or intriguing, and it certainly isn’t a traditional fragrance in any sort of way. It’s not high on my list of future purchases, either, but I can well understand the concept of enjoying S-ex…

Whoa! Comes on strong and very hippyish. I guess it’s the “black” patchouli that has so much to say. The opening potency doesn’t last long, though; it settles down quickly to something of almost normal delivery. The tamed-down patchouli gives off a rich, earthy, almost organic darkness and it also is responsible, I think, for the smoky overlay that begins to show up in the accord – this is the part of the fragrance that I like the best. Then the cinnamon creeps to the fore to eventually take over from the earthy patchouli, leaving the patchouli as an underrepresented partner in the accord and providing the anchor for the cinnamon and sandalwood that’s showing up by this time. By this time, the potency of the fragrance has lowered to a normal sillage. The final level moves to a sandalwood and amber that is excellent when smelled of the blotter, but loses something when it tries to perform off my skin. But the amber is dominant throughout the drydown, significantly sweetening the fragrance. I’m disappointed by the poor performance of the sandalwood in the drydown. Sin has some conspicuously important moments of beauty and the top and heart are impressive, but the sandalwood in the base just doesn’t come through for me. I feel neutral about Sin.

I was so looking forward to this because I am a fanatic about resinous fragrances. I must say, the opening didn’t disappoint… virulent… herbal… strongly masculine… resinous… The myrrh in the opening comes across as smoky, incensy burnt rubber. It’s a deep accord with strong medicinal vibrations that holds for almost and hour on my skin. The spices – nutmeg and sassafras in the accord gradually integrate with and mellow out some of the darkness and exoticness, while the myrrh smoothes down and becomes far less raspy – I like it both ways: rough / medicinal and smoother / fuller. The fragrance retains its grasp on the myrrh concept through the drydown and picks up a little sweetener in the background, gradually losing strength, and I never get tired of the resinous variations. The projection is quite strong at first as one would expect, but the drydown does lose some – just some – of the resinousness of the myrrh, and turns a bit sweeter – could it be the sassafras influence? It has quite good longevity. Needless to say, Laudanum is an intense and intriguing fragrance for those of us who love this sort of thing.

A dusky rose fragrance, well-named because there is a definite dark mystique to the rose note. This is a heavy rose / floral augmented by spice, a little green, amber, and a very little bit of musk. It’s an ok rose scent (disclaimer: I’m not a huge fan of rose) in the sense of seeming natural and presenting a balanced feeling. The rose is the dominant element from the start to the finish, and the finish is where it gets a little powdery, but not too... not for me, but I think it’s a well-done scent.

I get a strong sandalwood note in the opening. Cathedral is a typical sandalwood and it seems of the aromatic rather than the creamy variety – probably because of the incense and myrrh in the background. I admire the effect: sandalwood with a resinous background – could be heaven to me. I guess what I really like about it is that it doesn’t seem to have that sweet background (or, often, foreground) that so many BPAL’s seem to have. The movement goes from sandalwood to pine – I get a pine note – of course, with a incensy background, and there’s a strange rather synthetic note sitting in the far middle of the background. The dry down becomes quite similar to the opening, but this time it isn’t sandalwood… it’s… old wood. It’s like the wooden pews in the 5oo year old cathedral, and it is rich in olfactory pleasure and in history. I think men might be able to wear Cathedral, but it is essentially a feminine fragrance. Sillage wise, it starts out strong and decrescendos to a very sniffable skin scent. It has excellent longevity.

AKA Piña Colada… The Star is a light, warm tropical fruit scent: coconut, lemon, lime, and pineapple, with a strong mint kick to it. Reminds me of some suntan lotions. The Star is refreshingly enjoyable: It’s complex and long lasting. Nice one, this.

Hot buttered rum… No doubt about it: it’s my favorite after skiing drink. The full rich dark rum comes through first and then a sharp honey note. Finally, the nut (almond? mace?) note makes it to the top along with the butter. I’m getting a touch of cinnamon in there and I suspect a light floral that seems to hang around far in the background. It’s nicely put together and doesn’t seem to have a very strong sillage, but it has excellent longevity. As much as it smells like hot buttered rum, it does seem more feminine than masculine. An unusual gourmand… I think it would be excellent on the right person.

With these Escada seasonal fragrances, it’s hard to tell one from another. Usually I’m not very good at identifying similarities between fragrances because to my nose they all smell so different from each other, but that isn’t a problem with these summer Escadas: As far as I’m concerned, this could be Island Kiss or Rockin’ Rio. On a day when I not paying too close attention, this could also be Sunset Heat. At any rate, Ibiza Hippie is an undistinguished syrupy fruity floral – a bit tropical-drugstore in tenor – with a weak sandalwood (they say) / musk drydown.

In dealing with these Escada summer scents, maybe I should have saved the time and used a template: “_____ _______ by Escada is an undistinguished syrupy fruity floral – a bit tropical / drugstore in tenor – with a weak indeterminable / musk drydown…”

I suppose this was meant as a summer scent and the reference to Rio suggests a fragrance of tropical nature. Rockin’ Rio is primarily a fruity concoction, with pineapple, mango and probably other fruit. I really don’t care for a fragrance like this… The whole tropical thing in this fragrance seems more like a version of tropical Kool-Aid than a really well made, refined, fragrance using tropical fruit notes. There’s a carelessness, a lack of clarity in the way the tropical notes are presented that show the main purpose was to make a massively sugary fragrance with a hit or two of pineapple and mango syrup. Rockin’ Rio is syrupy and cheap smelling.

Mat; very male is a stronger fragrance than mat; male, and I think that’s a good thing mat; male disappeared on me. The anise note that takes over the opening accord is fresher than many anise notes I’ve experienced in different fragrances: The first several times I tested the fragrance, I thought it was quite interesting and well done – I really enjoyed it. But now with repeated testing, the anise opening seems to be getting sweeter and sweeter. The fragrance no longer impresses me, because the sweetness is beginning to wear on me. The middle accord of lotus, bamboo, and woods still carry with it vestiges of the anise note – it’s quite nice, but I would prefer more lotus, bamboo, and woods. The base is my favorite part – mainly patchouli supported by cedar. Mat; very male is a very competent fragrance. I like it but it ends up being a little too sweet for me.

Kenzo Pour Homme is unique. I don’t know of another scent that captures the sea in the same way that this one does. Erolfa comes close, but Erolfa is much more gentile, much less daring. Kenzo PH is sea freshness and saltiness with a tiny bit of the grosser elements thrown in – also a tiny bit of florals thrown in – also a bit of synthetics thrown in. I like its edginess and some of the time I like its accords, but other times it is too much for me. The comments about headaches are not really exaggerations: Kenzo Pour Homme has the ability to come on very strong and it lasts very long. Erolfa and Bulgari Acqua pour Homme are more pleasant and easier to wear, and yet there are rare times when I want just this scent. I have had the same decant for two years and it’s about one-half gone. I love the bottle so I might buy the bottle when my decant is gone, even though it will take years and years to finish it.

Jaguar Performance is not a very good fragrance – it smells as cheap as some of the other reviewers said. It opens with a mediocre green / citrus / herbal scent that fortunately does not last very long. The middle notes come across to me as empty of substance. And the drydown that I get is a dull white musk. On my skin the fragrance doesn’t last long, and for that I am grateful.

The old Jaguar for Men (green bottle) is a good fragrance… But Performance fits in well with some other fragrances named for an automobile – Hummer comes to mind, immediately…

How can they miss with Sugar Cane? Sugar cane (the actual stuff) has such a clean, fresh, innocently sweet smell, no one can dislike it. With this Demeter gets pretty close to the actual thing, I think. It has that sharp sweet green cast to it that I’ve smelled in sugar cane. This one lasts a bit longer than most of the Demeters I’ve tried. Good stuff.

I’m a coffee kind of guy and I wasn’t familiar with Earl Grey Tea, but I was recently gifted with a box of Twinnings of London Earl Grey Tea so I brewed a pot and settled down for this review. Hmmm. Very nice smell: comforting and invigorating at the same time… bergamot and some sort of black tea, most definitely. Nice... I think I will take up drinking this for the smell alone.

Unfortunately, the fragrance doesn’t come anywhere near what I’m smell of the Twinning Tea. There’s some bergamot in the Demeter, but it’s rather a synthetic take on it – actually a little annoying. And since I don’t put any lemon in my tea, the lemon in the fragrance is out of place in two ways… the lemon itself and the synthetics of the lemon note. Even the tea note in the fragrance doesn’t smell like the tea that I smell in the real Earl Gray Tea, of course I am in no way an expert on tea smells. I think this might be the fastest disappearing Demeter that I’ve encountered. It’s completely gone from my skin in a matter of twenty or thirty minutes. No, I can’t recommend this one.

Crème Brulee? I don’t think so… No, this one doesn’t do it. This smells a little caramely and vanillay at first, but it quickly goes downhill. There’s no cream smell coming through and Demeter didn’t get the synthetics out. This is artificial and definitely not recommended.

For a Demeter, this fragrance is mind blowing. It is so well done: It is complex; it is balanced; it has excellent movements; and there is an absolutely great implementation of the whole concept of church. At first I was a bit disappointed because I was expecting it to smell like dusty, stale water, which is the smell I associate with holy water. But apparently the “holy water” meant by this fragrance is simply a synecdoche – a part of something that represents the whole something. Holy Water stands for the total environment of the Catholic Church. There’s the water, the pews, the incense, the candles, the flowers – all there as a rich part of the ambiance of the some small church. And it’s done so well! And it lasts a bit longer than the other Demeters. Two or three thumbs up!

Strange how the nose and brain adjust… The first time I tested it, it was enormously floral. It was way too strong with overpowering frangipani and an aggressive jasmine not far behind: I was not at all impressed. The second time I tested it, the frangipani was still strong but not overpowering and the jasmine had assumed a perfect persona. I noticed on my second trial what an intriguing drydown Songes had. With subsequent testing, the floral becomes solid, but not at all flowery and certainly not excessive... The quietly recessive incense and the rich, not sweet vanilla tames and deflowers the middle florals, and delivers a rich and balanced slightly resinous, burnt vanilla heart. The drydown continues to be intriguing, softly Oriental, and rich in the texture of sandalwood and amber assisted by incense and vanilla. It’s a haunting drydown and it lasts beautifully.

I have come to enjoy and admire this fragrance – it wasn’t love at first sniff, but now I find that the subtle core of its white floral platform, its moderate edginess, and its very nice performance and longevity have convinced me. It’s a lovely fragrance.

Cashmere for Men is an elegantly refined wood fragrance. With the opening I don’t get the bergamot, bay, or ginger because the accord moves immediately to combination of the resinousness of the elemi with the clean, aromatic quality of the cedar: These provides a gentle incense-like accord. In a way the accord is purer, more organic than traditional incense because the cedar offers a valid living-green aromatic feeling that incense doesn’t have. It’s a beautiful accord and it lasts significantly. It is softer and more rarefied than most of the incense accords that I’ve tested in the past few years. With the movement to the middle level, the other wood notes – teak, guaiac, and cashmere – enter in and, with the elemi, continue the resinous wood accord at a lower and softer, but fuller and broader vibration level. Both the top and the middle have a gentle sillage that fits the soft persona of the fragrance. The drydown continues the woods accord from the middle at a more transparent level with the occasional appearance of a smooth vetiver and a soft amber. It has very good lasting power on my skin. Cashmere for Men is a tamed-down and highly wearable version of a resinous / incense fragrance. It’s smoky, subtle, resinous, organic, masculine, and elegant… For someone who wants an elegant, low-key, thoroughly masculine fragrance that performs beautifully, this could be the one.

Something in it goes crazy when this scent hits my skin – If there are aldehydes in it, they are probably the culprits... this is not the way aldehydes usually react on me. It’s schreechy and something immediately smells a little nail polish remover and a lot unscented hairspray – with sparkles. The accord I smell is not terrible or even annoying, but it is quite uninspiring. Eventually, the fragrance does a heroic attempt to exhibit its rose and cedar and woods – this is unsuccessful to my nose because I get only a muffled rose and wood accord under that layer of hairspray. It seems that I am smelling the fragrance though a filter. I can tell that there are some very nice things going on under the hair spray veil, but they are muted and distant. I get almost no projection from Shiloh, but its longevity seems pretty good. Mind you, I find nothing wrong with the fragrance itself… It seems quite well made and refined under that strange veil… I think Tovah is right when she says that this is the kind of fragrance that has to “work with one’s chemistry.” It doesn’t work with mine.

Mariel is an aquatic / fruity / floral somewhat green fragrance that is light, refreshing, feminine, and youthful. Its list of fruit, sounds like the offerings in the fruit market around the corner from my apartment: Grapefruit, Mandarin, Passion Fruit, Mango, Guava, and Papaya: but don’t worry… it’s much less busy / abundant than it sounds. The fruit accord is subtly and well done and quite refreshing. The aquatic part of the fragrance seems a little old fashioned… a little 1995. It is clean and it seems to be made up primarily of citruses and light greens, and it has good lasting power. It is light and it would be hard to over apply. I conceive this fragrance an anti-fragrance fragrance.

Not bad at all… This is a good attempt at an aquatic (or aromatic fougere, as it has been classified). The opening citrus accord is a bit lively – enjoyable, even – and the Champagne note is a clever gimmick. The opening doesn’t remind me of Millésime Imperial – that comes later when the heart accords are beginning to strengthen. Those mid notes – iris, sage, and lavender – pretty well place this fragrance in the rip off category, but even so, I must admit that it is quite well done. Unforgivable seems to continue on the MI track through the drydown, where the sandalwood, other woods and amber suggest the olfactory memories of MI. Unforgivable is not as smooth and refined as MI, nor does it have the sillage and longevity. Besides that, MI just plain smells better. I purchased MI before Unforgivable was available and I would make that same decision again today, but Unforgivable is an ok fragrance.

Where the devil is the devil? What’s with the bubblegum? Okay, I’ll admit the bubblegum opening lasts only five or ten minutes, and then the fragrance morphs to a rather flat, semi-sweet, creamy white floral / woody vanilla texture, which is actually attractive until I begin to desire some movement (movement, perhaps, to the devil part of the equation?), but the movement doesn’t ever show up. At this time I lose interest and forget to pay attention for a while… When my synapses start firing again, I’m in the drydown, and it’s a light, sweet, miscellaneous woody with Tonka bean.

I’m probably being too hard on a struggling-to- be-mediocre fragrance but, not only do I find the fragrance barely adequate, but I also find it so ill-named: Bubblegum to floral / vanilla… flat texture to average skin scent drydown… this doesn’t spell angel or devil to me. Angel or demon! Pfffft…

CK One Scene is a nice summer scent … It opens citrusy and spicy (I find most of it from beginning to end, rather spicy) and floral, and it takes a very refreshing form. The ylang-ylang is quite prominent and pushes the scent toward the feminine side for a while. I do see it somewhat related to CK One, and I think it’s a worthy successor to the original. I like the dry down – the amber is clean and clear, the musk is quite weak, the woods provide a bit of masculinity that is needed for a unisex fragrance. The drydown, however, does not have as much strength and longevity as it should. A nice fragrance, very pleasant.

Quite a heavy, aldehydic floral fragrance… And of the florals, violet is the dominant one… Aldehydic violet makes quite a memorable scent, and I remember this one from when I was kid – my favorite aunt wore it back in the early ‘50s. I remember that my parents gave her a bottle of #5 one Christmas, and to my knowledge she never wore the #5 – she always smelled of violets. My memory tells me that Le Dix used to be a better scent than this Le Dix that I’m smelling now. The present Le Dix doesn’t seem to come off with the clarity of aim or the competence of mission that the Le Dix of the past did. Today’s doesn’t sparkle as yesterday’s used to… it’s just rather heavy now. Le Dix gives off a lot of sillage that, while nice, just seems a bit ponderous and not as refined and well blended as it used to… or maybe my disappointment is simply because it’s not my aunt who is wearing it now.

Scotch and vetiver – these notes I love. Birch bark – this I don’t. I think it’s a shame that birch bark was included in this scent because I the other notes in Fumidus are so outstanding: The Scotch and vetiver are strong enough to pierce through the birch bark miasma… they exhibit the potential of forming an intriguing accord, but, alas, in the end they are undone by lesser than they. I love the smokiness and the intriguing combination of scotch and vetiver of the fragrance, and this would be a great fragrance if it weren’t for the birch.

Not at all like the Hummer types of fragrances. Notably dry opening—I don’t get the bergamot / lemon opening at all. My nose immediately goes to the lavender, sage, and styrax middle and here is where the dryness explodes: A resinous, herbal, and lavender accord that is aromatically raw and quite a bit ungentle; the schizophrenic lavender exhibits an aromatic personality in this scent and it is one of the more impressive lavender accords I’ve experienced. It reminds me of the opening lavender in Pour Un Homme, but in this fragrance, it stays that way—it doesn’t peter out into a sissy skin scent. Also somewhat like Pour Un Homme because of it’s vanilla / aromatic lavender accord, but the opening of Tonino is nothing like PUH: This rasping styrax / lavender/ sage accord is so edgy and compelling, and that makes it different from the Caron classic. The dry down continues adding labdanum and the sweetness of vanilla and tonka to the aromatic lavender. The sweetness doesn’t stand a chance: The raw and resinous lavender accord maintains its dominance. I love it, and I don’t often say that about lavender fragrances. Unfortunately it doesn’t last long enough. This is for certain one “Black” fragrance that deserves the name “Black.”

I really want to purchase this one, but I am having little luck finding it... The picture of the sample of Black that I pulled off the net says “Ferruccio—Tonino Lamborghini Eau de toilette,” but my actual sample says “Tonino—Tonino Lamborghini Eau de toilette.” I wish I could find more information on this fragrance because I love it. It’s highly unusual and brutally masculine, and I own nothing like this particular gem.

Begins with a gentle citrus opening—subtle, transparent, actually…nearly negligible. It takes a while for the woods of the heart to collect themselves and show some backbone, but soon there is an unassuming wood accord with, I think, the gaiac wood taking precedence and some sandalwood and cedar in the background. It certainly is not an impressive wood accord, and I wonder why the fragrance was called Musk. When the musk finally appears, it seems to be a white musk. The way the fragrance begins with almost no substance and gradually grows, reminds me of the way Floris Sandalwood performs, but only for a moment because Floris Sandalwood eventually turns into a wonderfully complete and pure sandalwood fragrance. This one turns into…white musk, and I can get as good white musks for one third the cost…without the wait.

Fresh opening of cucumber and melon – fruity but not really sweet to my nose. I enjoy the opening considerably, until about ten minutes into it when I begin noticing the lavender that is joining the attractive fresh opening. As so often when they do the lavender thing, I feel that the clarity of the cucumber and melon (in this case) is sacrificed for a dubious bandwagon accord. To add insult to injury, a basil note is then brought in, resulting in a complete mess IMO. That’s about the end of it: I lose the scent. I get nothing from the drydown. I have tried this five times over a three week period, and I get nothing after the basil.

I am a fan of the FRANK No 1 and a somewhat fan of FRANK No. 2. I was expecting to like this one. I don’t. I guess that linear regression works every time.

Sel Marin is beach scent of the beach rather than of tanning oil. This one is very clean and bright with a bit of citrus and clean green in it. I get somewhat of the driftwood and the sun on sand smell. I also get the birch, and thankfully, it’s not birch tar, but birch wood. For some odd reason I’m not getting very much salt or seaweed. What distinguishes Sel Marin from the others I’ve tried is that is the purity and attractiveness of the notes and the fact that they are so well put together. Not only are they fresh and clean, but also refined and elegant. If I were to buy another aquatic, this would be the one I’d buy now because it is totally absent of any kind of negative vibe – synthetic or rasping – and I thought negative vibes were almost de rigueur in aquatics: Heeley Sel Marin proves that those slightly annoying notes aren’t necessary. For as subtle as it is, it has acceptable projection and good longevity.

Calypso’s Tea is a strange fragrance: When I first sniffed it, I recoiled in surprise thinking “This is not tea.” I investigated and found that it isn’t supposed to be “tea” as I know it according to the Calypso website: It is mate – South American tea tree. Okay, so now I have something to compare it with: Lorenzo Villoresi’s Yerbamate. There is no comparison. Yerbamate it at the top of my list for green fragrances, and this one will make it on my “tested” list and no farther. Calypso’s Tea has a strange sort of stale green odor, not what I would call enjoyable green. For one thing, it is very strong. It's overpowering to the point where I feel my nasal cavities are in danger. . For another thing, it is infused with some kind of sweet morbid jasmine note that I don't find at all pleasant. In spite of that jasmine, it is quite masculine. I don’t know how to take it. Maybe I could learn to like this…

Naaa… won’t happen.

Another classic that undoubtedly deserves the label. White Linen is a beautiful feminine fragrance that is remarkably fresh and modern considering its date of introduction, yet it still is classic enough that it’s dignity and position is unassailable. It’s labeled a aldehydic floral but I’m not sure that the name applies because it has floral notes but it doesn’t really smell flowery – I get a pleasant rose that is not at all obtrusive, although it does properly place the fragrance in the feminine ranks IMO. I don’t get the lilac that is often mentioned. Primarily what I get is the fresh, soapy “texture” that is the hallmark of the fragrance’s reputation. It’s a disguised white floral / amber / cedar texture that is wonderful in the sense that it’s hard to get tired of it. White Linen is one classic that hasn’t traveled the path to obsolescence… thumb’s up, for sure.

When I saw the list of notes, I was afraid I wouldn’t like it, but Lacoste manages to pull it off – Booster is quite an interesting fragrance. I wouldn’t call the opening beautiful, but it is unique, competent, fresh, and well on its way to enjoyable. The peppermint, eucalyptus, and menthol form a virulent aromatic accord that, after the initial shock, I find I like. At first it’s quite different from most of the other scents of its generation, but it breaks speed records in disappearing from my skin, and I’m sad to say that I’m sorry to see it go. After the original accord has petered out, I do smell a little nutmeg and some pine, but those notes are so recessive that I don’t respond to them. Anyway, I enjoy the scent very much, but its longevity is abysmal.

I was surprised at testing this one. I d