Fragrance Reviews by djolney

In South Australia there is an area known as the Flinders Ranges. Most of this area is dry and beautiful, and what makes it memorable is that its beauty is matched by its starkness. Most plants that grow in the Flinders Ranges look like they have worked hard to stay alive and grow, and give the impression that they are going to hang onto life with grim determination.

Like the Flinders Ranges, Yatagan is beautiful and stark.

There is only a little bit of sweetness in Yatagan, and it makes me think of how sweet overcoming the odds can be.

The combination of worm wood, Artemisia, and petit grain is captivating, and gets even better once the pine needles and vetiver come into play.

The base of Yatagan is a combination of leather, patchouli, and wood. The patchouli is kind of inky and oaky, and I have never smelled anything like it before. This is the only leather scent that truly reminds me of old used leather, and what I picture is an old whip hanging in a tree, both of them weathered by heat and drought.

Yatagan is probably not for everyone, but is worth a try for anyone who is familiar with the link between starkness and beauty.

Azzaro pour Homme is a classic masculine fragrance.

I am a huge fan of anise, and really enjoy the interplay between the top notes of petit grain, lemon, and anise in ApH. The top notes sparkle, and there is a lovely balance between sweet, bitter, green, and citrus.

In the middle I particularly notice the vetiver, basil, and oak moss, and they seem to take turns coming to the fore as the day goes on.

On my skin the base settles down to a masculine musk infused with patchouli and sandalwood. The patchouli and sandalwood seem to stop the musk from becoming too animalic, and the consequence of this is a set of base notes that suit everything from jeans and a T-shirt to a suit and tie.

To my nose ApH is a balanced and rounded 70s powerhouse that is both interesting and enjoyable today.

It tends to stay close to my skin, and lasts around eight hours.

For guys who like Givenchy Gentleman and/or Chanel Antaeus, ApH is definitely worth a try. To my mind ApH is more sophisticated than Gentleman and better balanced than Antaeus.

When I first saw the name Visit I was perplexed as to why any company would call a fragrance Visit, but twenty minutes after spraying it on my wrist it made perfect sense.

Visit is a warm and friendly fragrance that draws one closer. The idea of visiting with Visit and the person wearing it feels relaxing and enjoyable.

The combination of cardamom, nutmeg, and pepper that first wafts up is a bit intense and unusual, but it quickly settles down onto the heart of cedar, gaiacwood, and incense. The spices add warmth to the woods, and the combination smells inviting. On my skin the top and middle balance nicely, and I don’t get too much nutmeg, a cedar log, or a temple full of incense.

As the fragrance dries down amber and musk start to seep into the woods giving Visit a sweet earthy smell. The fragrance lasts for up to eight hours on my skin.

When I feel like wearing an aromatic fragrance I tend to wear Caron Yatagan, so Visit is a bit tame for me, but I would never mind wearing or encountering Visit. For a guy who is just starting to explore fragrances without ubiquitous citrus or marine notes Visit would be a good place to start.

Supposedly described by Chanel as: “a very improper perfume for nicely brought-up young ladies,” I was expecting something interesting from the current EdT formulation of Cuir de Russie. I would have to say that Chanel’s supposed description has little to do with the current EdT. To my nose it is a floral with some leather that shows Polge’s hand.

The leather is neither a saddle just removed from a horse after a hard ride, nor a leather jacket exposed to tobacco smoke, sweat, and beer in a dark bar. Instead, it is a piece of high fashion leather gracing the form of a Russian oligarch’s daughter or mistress on a shopping trip to Paris.

Cuir de Russie EdT opens with a far too subtle combination of citrus that is quickly overwhelmed by ylang-ylang, iris, and jasmine. Within half an hour the heart of jasmine and rose takes over, followed by a base of squeaky clean high fashion leather, a tinge of vetiver, and very soft cedar and amber.

It is a beautiful floral with some leather, but Russian leather it is not.

Barbershop clean, and earthy in the nicest possible way.

RGpH opens with an invigorating, comforting, and smile creating barbershop accord. This accord lasts for about half an hour on me and comes and goes for the rest of the day.

The middle and base of RGpH consist of a beautiful balance between sweet and earthy notes. The sweet notes stop the fragrance from ever becoming too dark and dirty, and the earthy notes help to keep the sweet notes singing an enjoyable harmony.

RGpH consistently lasts 10 hours on my skin, and I never stop enjoying its development and recapitulation.

RGpH is a confident, enthusiastic, and engaging smell that seems to bring people closer—encouraging them to chat with the wearer. It’s great for days when one needs to make a good impression on new people.

I have been trying to write a review of The Third Man on and off for six weeks. No matter what I write it doesn’t seem complete enough to represent my appreciation of this fragrance.

The Third Man is a beautiful fragrance. It is both the height of urbane sophistication and an encapsulation of the physical pleasure of being alive. In the top, middle, and base there is a living, breathing balance between elegance and earthiness. For every soft, round, and voluptuous ingredient there is a corresponding intense and/or earthy ingredient to facilitate balance and action within the fragrance. The Third Man grows and changes throughout the day, and there is always some new accord to experience.

Every man with an interest in fragrance should experience The Third Man.

YSL Jazz is neither sophisticated enough to remind one of the most intricate jazz melodies and harmonies, nor dirty enough to capture the intense emotions of great jazz performers.

YSL Jazz is impeccably made, but is too reserved and restrained to warrant more than passing attention. The bergamot and lavender are pretty, but do not sparkle; the heart is balanced, but is not intriguing; and the base does nothing to drive the fragrance onto greater heights or depths.

If you want the intense emotions and intricate melodies and harmonies of great jazz seek out Caron Third Man: it is everything that YSL Jazz does not manage to be

To my nose, at least, there is a very significant difference between the EDT and EDP versions of Chanel No. 19.

The EDT version has a strange green heart that I cannot bring myself to like, and as time passes it takes on the character of Cristalle (which I do not like at all).

No. 19 EDP is a completely different fragrance.

It opens with a beautiful accord of bergamot and some sort of artemisia. This accord is one of the most beautiful things I have ever smelled, and it reminds me of the bergamot and tarragon accord in Givenchy Gentleman after it has calmed down.

The heart of No. 19 EDP shows Jacques Polge’s hand. Gone is the strange green heart of the EDT, instead replaced by Polge’s signature heart of rose and jasmine. This heart sings a glorious song all day, and combines with the bergamot and artemisia top to make this fragrance a masterpiece.

The base of No. 19 EDP is a combination of soft round woods and leather that never overwhelms or replaces the middle or top. It gives the fragrance great depth without being heavy.

No. 19 EDP is simultaneously vibrant, warm, and deep, and is a beautiful expression of the adage that the whole is more than the sum of its parts.

L’Anarchiste reminds me of the famous 19th century Russian Anarchist Mikhail Bakunin. Bakunin was both physically and intellectually striking, loved the good life, and was almost always busy trying to transform the world. Like Bakunin, L’Anarchiste is striking, brings the good life to mind, and never relaxes entirely.

L’Anarchiste opens with a heady mix of orange blossom, mandarin, and cedar leaves. The combination is a little bit boozy, a little bit sharp, a little bit fresh, sort of enthusiastic, and for me, at least, addictive. I thought that this accord would collapse into soft and round citrus, but it doesn’t. The cedar leaves keep this accord alive for up to ten hours on my skin, and the accord is constantly ducking and weaving to show how alive and interesting it can continue to be.

Beneath the citrus and cedar leaves an accord of elegant sandalwood and cedar wood begins to develop, culminating in a bond between the cedar leaves and cedar wood. This conjunction holds the top and middle together for the entire day, and provides a platform on which the top accord can strut its stuff.

At the base of L’Anarchiste is a combination of vetiver and musk. The vetiver is earthy without being dirty, and the musk is soft and round enough to not overwhelm the top or middle.

Unlike Third Man, L’Anarchiste is not a study in urbane sophistication. It is more forthright and practical than its stable mate, but no less pleasing or interesting.

Something about L’Anarchiste makes me want to situate it alongside Azzaro Silver Black and Guerlain Homme (two of my favorite fragrances), but I’ll have to give this some more thought and add to this review at a later date.

Powdery, candied iris that decays into bubble-gum.

If you want a fragrance like this, then check out the far superior version: Flower Bomb by Viktor and Rolf.

When smelling many fragrances it is easy to visualize the ingredients that contribute to the scent, but Silver Black inspires more than an image of what is in the bottle: between the black shadows stretching down from a mountain and the silver shimmer of sunlight on a sea are a patchwork of orchards, gardens, groves, and wilderness, and Silver Black is the scent of this living vista. It is a fragrance that captures the essence of a place, and I wonder if this place might have been where Loris Azzaro spent his formative years.

Silver Black opens with sweet green apples, bergamot, and lemon, and the sweetness and citrus quickly find a happy medium. In the middle caraway and coriander combine to create an interesting and enjoyable heart, which makes me want to smell caraway in more fragrances. Silver Black rests on a base of cedar and musk that effectively supports both the middle and top notes without overwhelming their character.

Green apples, caraway, and cedar does not sound like the most interesting combination around which to build a fragrance, but I commend the perfumer for creating such a substantial, engaging, and soothing fragrance.

Many years ago I bought a beautiful hand crafted acoustic guitar made from Brazilian Rosewood. As time has passed the sound has got even better and the wonderful smell has dissipated. Even today when I take it out of its case I can still conjure up the wonderful sweet, salty, dark, and smooth smell of freshly worked Brazilian Rosewood.

When I sprayed Egoiste on my wrist I was immediately transported back to the moment when I first smelled my guitar. The rosewood in Egoiste is beautiful, and in conjunction with sandalwood and vanilla forms the elegant and long lasting heart of the fragrance.

Egoiste begins with a sparkling accord of mandarin and rosewood that settles down onto a heart of slightly spicy rose. As it begins to dry down a perfect harmony of vanilla and sandalwood emerges to support the rosewood and rose. The sandalwood is silky, and the vanilla smells very natural. Within an hour cinnamon weaves its way between the rosewood, sandalwood, and vanilla, and this combination lasts all day on my skin.

The combination of wood on the top and at the bottom gives Egoiste a unique character that is not going to appeal to everyone, but few people could fail to appreciate its perfect harmony.

Like my guitar, Egoiste will be sticking around.

Soapy dirt with a splash of bug spray: try before you buy.

On the basis of the excellent reviews here on basenotes I ordered a bottle of Vetiver without first having tried it. When the bottle arrived I pulled off the cap excitedly and sprayed. After thirty seconds of citrus it settled down to soapy dirt with a splash of bug spray. My first thought was that there must be something wrong with my bottle, so I went and found a sample locally, but the outcome was the same. On my skin this fragrance goes horribly wrong and there is no development or dry down to speak of.

On my skin Gentleman begins with a blast of bergamot, which was almost enough to put me off. It is harsh, lasts for about twenty minutes, and completely overwhelms everything but the tarragon. Don’t leave the house until this calms down, or you will assault anyone you have to sit beside.

Once the bergamot dissipates, an accord of tarragon, cinnamon, and patchouli comes to the fore, and from this point onwards Gentleman behaves like a gentleman. This accord is warm and engaging, and there is nothing about this Gentleman to frighten the ladies or small children.

Within an hour Gentleman develops a calm and comfortable accord of sweet amber, honey, fine leather, and old timber, and this lasts for between eight and ten hours on me. In its latter stages Gentleman has an air of timelessness about it: when you smell this good you really don’t have to concern yourself with what happens next. If you feel as if you are in the wrong time and place, then Gentleman might be the right fragrance to show you that time and place are a cultural studies and marketing illusion.

I don’t understand why anyone says that this fragrance is dated. The Gentleman I remember my Dad’s generation wearing in the 70s was a beast that could cut through cigarette smoke and sweat on nylon shirts. Gentleman was one of the things that gave the 70s some style. Today, Gentleman is largely a mild mannered masculine fragrance that stands as one of the bastions against metrosexual marine creature scents.

Enjoy being a Gentleman who can wear Gentleman no matter what the time or place.

Are you sure of your footing?

If I remember the Antaeus story correctly, he gained his strength from the earth, and Hercules was only able to defeat him once he realized that he would have to break Antaeus’s contact with the earth.

Antaeus, the fragrance, is rooted in the earth, and is deep, dark, and unshakable. It goes on strong and stays that way for the entire day. Because it is from Chanel, Antaeus is as refined as an 80s power scent can be. It has probably been toned down, but still has more depth than the majority of men’s fragrances out there today.

Antaeus is for the man who is sure of his footing and mind.

So close, and yet so far.

On my skin Tabarome began as a haze of elegant cognac and tobacco, and I wondered where the notes that were supposed to be there had gone.

Within five minutes the haze gave way to a lovely accord of ginger, green tea, and tobacco, and I began to smile broadly. Ultra masculine and refined is the only way I can describe this accord.

And then half an hour later the beautiful accord faded away leaving me with nothing but the smell of a well groomed drunk old man.

I have repeated this experiment with the same outcome each time. If the beautiful accord lasted on me I would wear this fragrance forever, but this is not to be.

This is definitely one that you need to try before you buy.

Pleasant, but unfinished.

Like the computers chugging away to provide more numbers after the decimal point for Pi, Pi the fragrance is on an equally futile mission.

Pi opens with a sparkling combination of indistinct floral and herbaceous notes above a heart of vanilla, and only a woody resin at the base stops the vanilla from seeping everywhere.

The vanilla is pleasant, but it never entirely harmonizes with the notes above or below it. It trucks on into the night endlessly restating its vanillainess, hoping that one doesn’t mind that the top and base notes are left in limbo.

When I want to smell like vanilla (and I do some days) Pi is the fragrance I reach for. Its lack of resolution stops being bothersome once one realizes that it is what it is, and that it is better than many vanillic scents.

Sophistication in a bottle.

I had read the reviews of BpH before ordering my bottle of EDP, and couldn’t imagine how the initial blast of lemon could be so out of control.

For the first half hour the blast of lemon was completely out of control.

And then a wonderful thing happened: the lemon toned down, and the rich complexity of the rest of the fragrance stepped up.

What I am left with is the softest and most refined fragrance I have ever smelled.

For me, at least, BpH is too elegant for daily wear, but I’m glad I have it here to wear for future formal occasions.

This is a gorgeous fragrance.

I normally wear Chanel Antaeus, so Antidote is a kind of culture shock for me. I’m used to wearing a fragrance that is rooted in the earth, but Antidote is engaged in a slow burn to overcome gravity and retain its vantage point above the ground.

The accords between individual ingredients are so well managed that I can never smell less than three things at a time. The top notes are more like a citrus orchard than citrus fruit, and they merge seamlessly into a luscious night time garden of middle notes. The base notes are there to sustain the relationship between Antidote and the ground, and the ripples of smell act like thrust to keep Antidote aloft.