Archives: Fragrance Reviews

REVIEW II, 2023 Oct 29:

Well, here's something I haven't felt the need to do before... come back and drastically revise a previous review.

After my last review, I decided to give this juice more of a chance. It certainly was far from bad to my nose, and had so many strongly positive reviews, that I decided to stick with it for a while, give my other favorite scents a rest. So, I put a little of this on every day.

By and large, I wouldn't describe the scent in different terms than I previously did. How can I put this? Most of the time, I like barbershop scents. I think Paco Rabanne is lovely. Even cheapo Brut aftershave is appealing. I formerly felt this was similar to those kinds of scents, but perhaps a bit too safe and inoffensive.…

This is my second review for this one. I last reviewed it over 2 years ago and it's sat in the back of my fragrance vault in the Monte Carlo residence ever since, so I figured, maybe give it another shot. I'm not planning on leaving the house today anyway.

Maybe there's something to letting things sit. It goes on tolerably, without as much of the cotton candy miasma that nauseated me so much the first time. It's there, but it's tolerable, it sits better in the mix, as we musicians like to say. In fact, not having worn any scent at all lately, I sort of mildly liked the opening. In an odd way, it reminded me of the completely unassuming "just there"-ness of the misnamed Issey Miyake L'eau d'Issey Intense Pour Homme. It's still a little sweet for my tastes, I think I…

This one is weird, I just don't "get" it. Every few months I give it another shot thinking I'll finally get it, and I don't.

I don't dislike it at all. It's perfectly pleasant-smelling. It just doesn't particularly grab me. I wouldn't have expected to see such strong praise for it in the other reviews.

Goes on with a spicy, peppery edge that disappears very quickly. After that? I guess this is what amber smells like. There's something very slightly white-floral in there, too. To me it leans a little sweet and perfumey, I find it strange that so many people think this is so extremely masculine. I suppose I can see it for an older man, a very specific image men of my generation grew up with... think "Kolchak, The Night Stalker" out for cocktails on his…

Well, here we a contradiction. The gray color of this stuff is perfectly apropos; the word "intense" in the name is absolutely not.

I consider this the "schwa" (ə) of scents. Perfectly unassuming and inoffensive, in a positive way. It smells good without the least risk of offending anybody or even of calling attention to itself—in my mind the definition of an office-suitable scent. I do like it, I wear it occasionally to switch things up, although as I never work in an office or indeed go anywhere where I need to smell inoffensive but good as I'm carrying a manila file folder, it's not something instinctively reach for from my fragrance bar when I get it in my head to throw a little something into the air around me. It's a very practical fragrance, it almost defines "practical" as a…

I really like this quietly exceptional juice. It's got a touch of the almost seaweedy earthiness of something like Bulgari Atlantique, it's got something woody happening in there, and definitely pine somewhere in the middle, but that slightly citrusy pine of green pine sprouts, not like a dry aged pine. Plus a little, I don't know, maybe almost asian spice or smokiness, like a little silver bow around it.

I wouldn't say it's an entirely unconventional scent, but among scents that aren't likely to raise any eyebrows it doesn't really smell much like anything else. It's sort of an unusual hybrid blue/green/brown scent. Probably a little to dressy for the office, but also probably among the most demure of dressy scents. I don't find it too strong, as some people have apparently reported, and for the entirely reasonable price it would…

"Welcome to the tobacconist's shop. Feel free to look around while I eat my corn chowder. But please don't try to pet the monkey, she bites. Ladies, we do have a special section of ladies' tobaccos, right here. But please don't try to pet the lady monkey, she also bites. We also have a collection of antique books, if you'd like to browse that."

Here we have another Rogue scent that blooms quickly into something indescribable and wonderful. If experience is any teacher, though, I'll get about a half hour of this and then wonder where the magic went.

But, still, until them, it's another symphonic Rogue opening, this time full of tobacco, old books and somebody cooking something very rich in the back room, as well as, yes, a little bit of monkey. Very dignified but not staid.

Did you ever watch Downton Abbey? One…

This one opens with another quick trip to the Urgent Care clinic, evoked by the smell of freshly-opened bandaids.

After that, it smells very much like it's named.... first a nice but not so impressive vetiver, then a very clear, nice bloom of flowers. If Rogues often open up like Mingus's "Let My Children Hear Music", this one is like one of Satie's Gymnopedies... quiet, simple, unassuming, pretty, and the kind of thing you turn to when you're not in the mood for a surprise. It's a nice enough smell. That's all.

It's pretty unisex, even leans feminine. If you walked into a child's nursery and it smelled exactly like this, you wouldn't be surprised. I might even recommend wearing it as a leg up to anyone who is interviewing for a nanny position.

Oh, my god. Picture a hairy man wearing a loin cloth, standing on a tree stump, shouting, "I AM A GENTLEMAN!"

That is the opening of this perfume.

I have never had a scent actually make me feel more confident. What an amazing smell. I feel like I could hunt down a wildebeest. Or close a corporate merger. Either way.

In my short time since I began exploring fragrance, I wondered what a "chypre" was. I suspected from reading that most of my experience had been with fougeres. Outside of the vast variation available there, I couldn't imagine a cologne smelling some "other way".

Now, I remember.

The second I put this on, I recognized it from... somewhere in the past. I might have been rightly turned down for a job that I made it to the second interview round of by someone wearing it. I…

I just received a bottle of UDV, and color me mystified by what I see on this page.

I get a slightly sickly cotton candy and an acrid note of burning rubber. And that's it. A few hours in, it's dried down to... still exactly the same.

It reminds me very much of A*Men, which had a similar but even more pronounced tire-fire-near-the-midway attack and not much else, yet which other people seem to incomprehensibly adore. At least this is not as offensively sweet-yet-acrid as that, it's not awful so much as just not my style, which I guess is impressive for a bottle of juice that cost less than I paid for a sandwich for lunch today.

But none of what I see in the note pyramid or in any of these reviews seems similar to what I'm smelling in any way. I just don't…

I feel like the note pyramid on this is missing something. Nowhere does it explain whether this smells like Nick Mason, David Gilmour, or Roger Waters. (Yes, I know I left one out. I have it on good authority that Rick Wright did not smell.)

Anyway, I wore this cologne for quite some time without incident, although I do suspect it may be in some way responsible for the fact that once or twice since I've started wearing it, Syd Barrett has appeared and stared at me from the control booth.

Continuing through my Rogue sampler, this opens more conventionally than any Rogue I've tried yet. For once we have a Rogue doesn't come on like Charles Mingus writing for some olfactory orchestra (not that I ever mind that).

It's very nice, for sure. First impression: basically it's exactly what the name says, tobacco and creamy green freshness, although, as with the other Rogues I've tried, it's extremely well blended, and if the name hadn't told me what's in it I might have a hard time picking it out. As it is, I like the scent of tobacco, and I especially like the scent of the tobacco note in this, it's crisp but understated and very nice. I think maybe with this one Manuel Cross was going for his own (glorious, natch) take on a very conventional aftershave scent. If I walked out of the barber shop…

Ok. Wow. First spray, and I suddenly know what Thierry Mugler was trying to do with the cotton-candy/tire fire opening of A*Men. Similar notes, spun sugar and something acrid, but better balanced, toned down, and nestled comfortably in something floral, gauzy, and that comes on quick and says, "it'll be ok. The clown can't hurt you, I'm here."

And then moments later: I finally know what people on Fragrantica mean when they say "Animalic". Wow, something somewhere in there just purred at me and asked if I had any red meat.

By god, it's another orchestral overture from Rogue. Good one, too, this one I really like. Please god, let this be the one that lasts beyond the opening.

Soon, there's scented wood. Pine needles? Or some sort of herbal elixir in there, too, that reminds me of a liqueur I haven't had in a long…

Another amazing opening. Is it Christmas? Someone is baking ginger cookies. I smell some peppermint. Maybe even a little toasty coconut. However, after a few minutes, now in there, something like... paint thinner?

Oh, my god. GRANDMA IS PUTTING TURPENTINE IN THE CHRISTMAS COOKIES. The family is gathered around the hearth, unaware that Grandma is cooking up hot death in the kitchen. Now she brings out the tray of them, still warm and soft from the oven, and deadly. I know I shouldn't eat them. But they smell SO GOOD.

There's something distinctly feminine and powdery underpinning this, yet stereotypically masculine in its boldness. It's the Squeaky Fromme or Aileen Wuornos of the fragrance world. Or maybe, better, the Elizabeth Bathory.

Though it's a very unusual scent, the drydown reveals that it's still built on a base that is unmistakably classy, refined and elegant. If I…

Wow. What a strange, classy scent. I positively cannot identify what this smells like.

Very dressy, though... sort of a classic cologne scent, and very slightly ostentatious, though not in a bad way, just a way that says, wear this to black tie dinners, not every day. This is not a scent that will make anybody say, "Wow, you smell amazing!" but it's could be a perfect part of a very nice ensemble, showing that you've given thought to your presentation, right down to the scent. It's kind of the opposite of a dumb reach.

But, it's strange, too. It's really got a personality. I like it, maybe love it, but I could imagine some people finding it a little objectionable. There's something acidic to it. It's got an odd, slightly tart or astringent note buried in there that makes it pretty unique. It almost reminds…

I had some problems with this one at first. I don't think those little rollerballs do much, and even pulling that off and splashing this on, I wasn't getting much... a vague fruit (the good kind, melony, understated) and freshness but without the strong soapy green a lot of freshies have.

Finally I managed to fit get a small atomizer to at least spray out of the bottle, and... oh my...

I would like to directly address Manuel Cross:

You, sir, are trouble.

This is the second scent I've tried from my Rogue sample pack, and the second one that had me telling myself after only 10 minutes that I wouldn't mind smelling like this for the rest of my life, and looking immediately for how much a full bottle cost.

It's classy. I do see the comparisons with Green Irish Tweed: no, it doesn't smell…

Ohhhhhh, my. Oh, this is very dangerous.

This is my first try of a Rogue frag. Spashed on from a sample bottle with the roller top removed. (I tried to fit an atomizer to the bottle, but didn't have anything on hand that fit.)

I'm going to hazard a guess here. I am going to guess that the use of natural ingredients apparently no longer common is why this is sending me on a head trip back to my grandmother's apartment. I'm pretty sure I've smelt tuberose notes in something before, but this...

This started out nice. That's all. Floral. I liked it. A "reminds me of my grandma" smell I thought at first was the nice soaps she had out.

A few minutes later, it began to have some depth, more like standing out in a beautiful flower garden. Now, I like the smell of…

Following my glorious first sample of Viking, I ordered this by mistake, not realizing "Viking Cologne" was in fact something different. I dealt with a very nice seller on Reddit and got a 10ml decant of this. First odd thing I noticed, opening the box, despite an incredibly careful and thick overdone bubblewrap packing job, the inside of the box smelled of cologne. I thought maybe the bottle had leaked in transit. On examination, it hadn't, it was dry, tightly sealed, and as full as the reddit photo had showed. Fascinating, Captain.

So I sprayed this on immediately, I couldn't wait... and my nostrils were immediately assaulted. They literally burned.

Now, several of my favorite Creed samples, I've spent the first few minutes wondering what all the hubbub was about, before they really opened up. So I'm patient with Creeds. But I will confess, this came…

The scent is made for a King and only mature, self-assured men can pull it off. It's definitely not for incels who are so insecure they have to compulsively brag to strangers that they're "alpha males", as if that was a thing that actually exists, or regurgitate schoolyard namecalling they saw online to spit at anyone whose political views they can't understand, even in forums where it's not even remotely appropriate, as if they hope Jordan Peterson himself will somehow see it and give them a pat on the head for it.

This has a note in it that I haven't learned to identify yet, but it's in a few Creeds and I love it. I've mentioned it in a few reviews... something broad, floral, soft, round, organic, sweet, and rich. (Like a soy latte. It's very much like what I imagine it would smell like…

You know, one of the best parties I ever went to, I got there about 10 PM, we went all night, and then at 8 AM, with a few diehards still carousing, the hosts wheeled out another keg and a tray of sushi. It was a real boss move. Bear with me, I'll circle back to this in a bit.

I'm really at a loss reading the other reviews. Well, half of them. This stuff must be especially dependent on body chemistry, or something. Or maybe I've gone anosmic. But I can tell I desperately need a shower, so, that's probably not it.

Yes, I get some notes of a dry, deserty, spicy middle-eastern scent. Buried almost imperceptibly under yet another thick, weird, ineffable burned cotton candy or bubblegum accord, an oily sweetness I can't understand why anyone would ever want to smell like. I'm reliving…

Ok, this is probably not fair because I only put this on two minutes ago. But this is the most visceral reaction I've ever had to an opening. I can feel this cologne corroding the back of my throat.

This smells like a tire fire at a carnival... overwhelmingly cloying cotton candy, caramel apples, marshmallows, and burning rubber. I'm afraid a clown is going to attack me. I honestly do not believe a human person could smell like this and their visage remain unaffected. I never imagined a cologne could make me feel afraid to look in the mirror, but, surely I have been transformed into a monster. Or... a clown...

If this turns into anything remotely not revulsive in the drydown I will be very impressed, because I feel like I just bathed in a chemical stew. I would say, if you wanted to capture…

Wow. I'm about a few hours into my first tester of this and am pretty floored. Honestly, this doesn't even smell like what I think of as cologne, it just smells good, like amazing incense. It took me about 15 minutes to put my finger on it, before I realized: cloves. Then, eventually, a hint of mint, a little licorice maybe? Something very much like being in a wood shop. Eventually something very warm and floral, almost soapy, comes out. Just a little.

If I had to conjure it in one image, I'd say, picture stumbling onto Cary Grant, in a tuxedo, sitting in the woodworking shop of a high-end furniture maker, eating the world's best-smelling take out Indian food. It's one of those fragrances that really can't be done justice in words, but that's kind of the references it evokes for me.

It also has…

After going through two decants I finally bought a bottle of this, and I think I love it more every time I put it on. Which is weird, because this isn't a scent that screams out to be anybody's favorite. But it just smells damn good. Yes, the soapy thing is true, and one of my decants (but not the current bottle) definitely reminded me of Irish Spring. But it's all good... I recognize that if someone described it to me as I am describing it, it wouldn't sound as appealing as it actually is. There's just something fresh, and clean, and good smelling about this, strongly enough not to be weak, but not strongly enough to overpower. I just like the stuff so much.

I've been working my way through house of Creed by way of small decants from a vendor I've found to be trustworthy. I even sprung for a full bottle of GIT, would for a few others as well if I were wealthy, and the ones I couldn't see wearing or even didn't particularly like, I at least appreciated. They've all been excellent in their own way.

Himalaya is the first Creed scent I was just disappointed by.

The initial blast is pure alcohol, period. I quickly picked up an odd barbershop note... not odd, really, in fact, very common and familiar, which is what's odd, for a Creed. But I've learned never to judge a Creed until after the first 30 minutes . So, I was patient.

30 minutes later, I said, well, this is definitely a Creed. It has that rich Creed base that I've…

Just something deep & sexy (I'm fighting the urge to put scare quotes around that, but it legitimately is) about this. Smells like the man who says, "I may be wearing a tuxedo now, but you can tell I split a cord of wood this afternoon."

I had a little 5oz decant that I fell in love with. I got fizzy ginger, ginger, ginger from that, dark and spicy. Like drinking a ginger beer. Citrus comes out later, incense, patchouli, and spice all the way through. One thing I love to do, I don't know how this will fly with some people, but, I like to layer some Creed Green Irish Tweed with something a little more "cologne-y" and let that rich Creed silk work its magic on something contrasting, and a spray or two of this with GIT works really well, keeps the class but…

In hour 4 of my first try of this and I have to say I just don't get it. I know I'm not going anosmic because I had a can of tuna for lunch today, hours ago, and can smell that on my fingers. But I can hardly smell this stuff, and what I can smell, is nothing to write home about. Opened with orange, nice enough if you like orange, and I can smell what people are calling melon, nice enough if you like melon. But a few hours into it, in the drydown, there's not much at all but a quietly dwindling melon, and, there is a single note that I can only describe as "body-odor-like", which is definitely not pleasant. But I have to inhale deeply to get even that, because this stuff doesn't smell much, or especially nice, to me. I'm at…

I've been working my way through small samplers of Creed and this is the first one that made me say, "Aw, nice" rather than "WOW!". It's very nice but I wouldn't say luxurious. It definitely does smell good, although much more like sandalwood than cedar to me. I'm not one to often use visual metaphors to describe scents but I'd be lying if I said this scent didn't remind me of walks in the woods, dry leaves, and cozying up in front of the fireplace.

After a while the spice emerges. The patchouli is clearly evident but not overwhelming. I happen to like patchouli in moderation but if someone really loathed it this scent might not go over as well with them. I think it blends well enough not to risk being much of a problem, though. Like all Creed scents I've tried so far, this…

Hello, cedar! I see you've met my friend high-quality incense. I believe somewhere around here there's some damp earth or the remains of last night's campfire, but only in the best possible way.

Somehow these all combine into something that's very nice at best, totally inoffensive at worst. I neither see how anybody could hate nor fall head-over-heels in love with this scent. It's uniformly very, very good. Nothing synthetic or unbalanced about it, nothing mind-blowing either. I wouldn't pay hundreds of dollars for a bottle of this, but I'd probably wear it occasionally if it was less than that or if it was gifted to me. It's definitely nice, a high-quality if somewhat restrained scent. Wear it on a date to the movies, and your date will probably think you smell good for the whole two hours, and never find it overbearing. I wouldn't wear…

Remember the good old 1980s, when things were so uncomplicated?

After hearing Fahrenheit mentioned about a million times I had to find out, and got a sample. I am highly amused.

This is freshman year of college in a bottle. That's not a putdown, it's actually exceptionally nice, all the good things people say about it are true. Cedar, lavendar, bergamot, and much more, all very nicely blended. It really is an extraordinary composition that deserves its renown. But, damn, it just smells so much like something I would have worn in hopes of impressing girls with real eyebrows and big hair.

Damn, I can't say anything about it that doesn't sound like a putdown, and that's not what I mean. It smells really good. I really like it. I'm on a heavy-duty nostalgia trip, and I like it a lot. At the time I wore…

This is one of those times when it sounds like people are reviewing two different fragrances.

How can one fragrance be autumnal, warming and spicy, and dominated by cinnamon, yet also overly sweet, floral, fruity, and lean feminine?

The sample I got opens with a powdery, mild candy-sweetness similar to Joop Homme's (coincidentally what I sampled yesterday) followed quickly by a slight hint of that "christmas cookie" accord I so often encounter and complain about, but soon goes in a different, but fairly conventional, direction. It does have a nice if very quiet base, slightly sweet, floral, powdery/lavendery, and soft, but very slightly suggestive of typical fougere or oriental accords.

It's nice enough, but to me, it doesn't stand on its own. It's inoffensive, mild, and that's not at all what I expected to be contained in a gold bottle called "One Million". I like Paco…

Well, some reviews here say the latest batches bear little resemblance to the original, and the rest of the reviews bear little resemblance to the sample I got, so, there you are.

What I got: a grape soda & bubblegum opening, except, much nicer than you'd think from hearing that. This is the first sweet fragrance I've liked, and the only one so far that I'd describe as restrained. The whole picture is nicely blended and it's tough to pick out individual notes. Eventually, I do get a hint of that acrid tire-fire-in-the-distance smell that seems to haunt every sweet cologne, but in this case, so tamed down that it's actually not objectionable — less a tire fire on the outskirts of town, more the classroom windows being open while fresh asphalt is being laid out the playground.

Underneath it all is a very nice base. Yes,…