Fate Man by Amouage (2013)

Nose: Karine Vinchon-Spehner

To my supercilious nose, Fate Man reveals itself from the very first minutes as one of the dullest and cheapest Amouage offerings for men, and sadly the evolution does nothing but reinforcing this impression. The opening is pretty much a mathematical layering of a ton of drugstore cumin with a fairly cheap Iso E-infused cedar-vetiver-guaiacol accord (we’re in the same territory of countless inexpensive woody scents here; I thought of Chopard Noble Cedar, Azzaro Visit or La Martina Secret Wood, but options are really infinite) and a darker, thicker shade clumsily emulating some favourite chords of several “dark Oriental” niche scents of the past years – an agreeable, albeit derivative and a bit nondescript blend of musk, rough spices and smoky balsamic-resinous notes (labdanum, mostly) with a sort boozy-tobacco flower note (immortelle – think of Histoires de Parfums’ 1740) tinted with a sort of oily licorice vibe and a robust base of something like birch tar with a hint of dry oud. So basically a moody Oriental rework of a conventional woody scent. All finally wrapped together with a polished, dry texture, quite on the dark-spicy side, and sadly (if that wasn’t clear enough) quite cheap too for me. By “cheap” I mean that I personally don’t get anything different quality-wise from several inexpensive designer woody scents, the woody notes smell clearly “average” with no nuances or richness or whatever may indicate a sign of a higher quality; and I also don’t get any other added value – nothing creative, or particularly refined. No surprises during the evolution as well. A really bland Oriental dry woody scent with a dark shade and a bit more thickness than usual in the unsuccessful attempt to bring Fate closer to a niche quality (if that ever existed). Still something you’ve to keep smelling to remember how it smells. It’s nice, but a true joke for the price.

5/10

Olympios by Missoni (1994)

I’ve been quite on a “vintage Fahrenheit craze” lately, since I’ve been finally able to stock a decent pile of backups of it, and I wore it quite often. Besides granting me hours of sinful delight, that helped me also in assessing something I wanted to check since long time –if, and how much Olympios Missoni is actually similar to vintage Fahrenheit. I own and quite like Olympios since a couple of years, and before getting some bottles lately, I only vaguely remembered vintage Fahrenheit, so I was unsure of what to think about the relationship between the two. But I was quite sure that as other reviewers mentioned, the two fragrances were quite similar. Well in fact, now that I can compare them, they are indeed. The bone-structure is clearly the same: violet, herbs, cedar, powdery flowers, a hint of leather, moss, altogether creating a similar sort of “dark terpenic violet” atmosphere.

Still, there is enough difference to avoid any redundancy (well, sort of); Fahrenheit is decidedly more powdery, gassier and darker, and way more rich and complex, while Olympios is quite more simple, more herbal, drier and quite more bitter too, ultimately a bit cheaper as well. It feels like taking inspiration from the general genius structure of Fahrenheit, bringing it on an “easier” territory, both notes-wise and quality-wise. Nonetheless I would consider it a little true keeper, as it smells basically like a sort of bitter-herbal flanker of vintage Fahrenheit, both fresher and drier at once. I wouldn’t ever recommend this as a replacement for the immense, out-of-this-world intricated beauty of vintage Fahrenheit, but it’s surely a little fascinating gem that would make a perfect “discarded flanker” of it.

7,5/10

Pour Homme by Dolce & Gabbana (1994)

Nose: Max Gavarry

I don’t know how Pour Homme smells today, but I recently acquired an early Euroitalia bottle of this (mostly for nostalgia, as I wore this fragrance in the Nineties, without even loving it that much back then) and all I can say is that it smells, well, really good. Not exciting, not particularly fascinating... but just totally, really good. Almost astonishingly good. All I get is lavender, tobacco, a drop of creamy, slightly orange-infused citrus and a mellow, agreeably sweet base of musk, vetiver and tonka, initially briefly refreshed by a sort of Mediterranean herbal-tea accord in which I think I get mostly sage and something like thyme paired with, well, “something” that reminds me of juicy bittersweet black tea (that may be due to tobacco, though; fresh grounded tobacco has often a tea-like aroma).

The notes may sound a bit generic, while the result is inexplicably complex, totally unique and recognizable, way more than it may seem by reading the composition. In fact I can’t really think of anything similar to this, maybe some facets of vintage Dreamer by Versace for the same tobacco-musk-lavender “clean and warm” base, or some other tobacco designer scents, but that’s a long shot in any case since there’s quite something more – and mostly better – going on in Dolce & Gabbana pour Homme. I guess this uniqueness is due to the way musk, tobacco, tonka and citrus interact, they create “something” really comforting, clean (musk and lavender), slightly sweet and warm (tonka and tobacco, plus that “tea” accord I mentioned above) but with a really classy touch of tart, herbal citrus freshness, which altogether create an uplifting sense of confidence, affability and informality with a sultry shade of class, a perfect balance I rarely found in other fragrances. Guess this is an example of how a skillful, eclectic and mature composition smells like. Maybe uncreative, but not anything has to (try to...) be creative. Truly a soothing classy sillage with just the right hint of clean, smoothly modern and understated “genericness” which makes this fragrance a really enjoyable and solid everyday option, with a particular “youthful” vibe. Quite linear, but if something smells this nice, that’s just a plus.

Given the number of negative reviews I read about Pour Homme I assume that today it smells probably a bit more synthetic and harsh than it used to, and I can really believe that since the quality of Euroitalia works of the Eighties/Nineties was quite much higher if compared to today’s standards among designers – not to mention Dolce & Gabbana usual standards, which make Pour Homme even more a unique standout. The early Made in Italy version surely has some soapy-synthetic feel especially on the musky-lavender notes, but overall it has an undisputable solid quality and a remarkably rich, fulfilling and breezy texture that makes it really worthy a sniff – if not a blind purchase in case of good deals (way more than the nice albeit totally overrated By Man in my opinion, to mention the only other masculine Dolce & Gabbana scent worth some care).

7,5-8/10

Maxim's pour Homme by Maxim's (1988)

This is for me one of those cases where I am really happy and thankful that sites like Basenotes exist. If it wasn’t for the positive raving reviews here, I would have never cared for this scent – an obscure name evoking some generic seedy nightclub (sorry, I didn’t think of “that” Maxim’s at first), a rather unappealing box, very little information except for the fact that this was made by Pierre Cardin (meh...) in collaboration with a Parisian restaurant – an anecdote which wouldn’t really be enough to make me intrigued about this fragrance. If any, it would have instead almost an off-putting effect on me. Well anyway, once I read the reviews I thought it was maybe worthy a blind buy instead. I found a really cheap “no barcode” bottle of this and – bingo! I can’t say better what other reviewers already wrote. Just believe them, and believe the (still quite limited) hype.

Maxim’s homme is an amazing hell of a keeper, a fantastic and sophisticated leather chypre which should sit if not next, then just a short step below some of the finest leather chypres of all times, from vintage Or Black to vintage Bel Ami or Moschino pour Homme. The structure is pretty traditional, and others have already analyzed it, so there’s no point in telling how it smells again in detail... it’s just an impeccable, rich, elegant and truly high-quality balsamic woody-leather scent with a really enjoyable whiff of smoky, and almost honeyed-candied floral notes, a bit like in Bel Ami – that kind of dark, austere and distinguished “manly” leather with a hint of balsamic-powdery smooth softness. At first it smells more about pine needless and dry woods, but once it warms a bit, the magic happens and Maxim’s unravels a truly delightful, crisp and brilliant harmony of leather, tobacco, “masculine” flowers, balsamic woods, a subtle musky base of mossy dirt.

I think the balance between the darker side with leather, tobacco and austere woods, and the balsamic-floral side with a really peculiar sort of dusty-sweet resinous texture and a nondescript, yet charming musty aftertaste, is truly remarkable and one of a kind. It’s simple, but so finely tuned it smells more unique than it may seem. Plus the quality is overall ridiculously good, there is an amazing feel of clarity and sultry depth which one would never imagine coming out from something so inexpensive and, say, visually cheap. Another obscure, totally good and totally neglected vintage cheapo which smells a bit similar to this came to my mind, - Bally Masculin, but Maxim’s seems showing clearly a higher quality. This could have really easily been some Hermès, Givenchy or Guerlain. Same richness, same elegance halfway formal and effortless, same vibrancy and same uniqueness of most of their finest vintage offerings for men. I’ve read on the Internet that this was an early work by Jean Claude Ellena, and well, I can really believe that. Simply great.

8,5-9/10 

Terre d'Iris by Miller Harris (2005)

Niche still works, sometimes.

Nose: Lyn Harris

Terre d’Iris is easily one of the most compelling and fascinating fragrances by this brand among the ones I have tried so far – a brand which despite its (few) highs and (more frequent) lows, I respect overall. Being a big fan of iris – not necessarily knowledgeable about it, but surely a fan, I am quite picky with iris-based fragrances, and Terre d’Iris, well... it is surely a true keeper for me, for a very reasonable couple of reasons: it smells really good to my nose, and quite unique to my knowledge. It opens in fact as a charming, immediately competent, fascinatingly moody take on iris built on a really inspired, smooth and well-balanced contrast between fresh, tangy herbal notes of lemon, bergamot and sharp, tasty Mediterranean herbs with a fruity drop of orange, and a whole sort of cloudy, damp musky-woody base with patchouli, vetiver and a really subtle, yet perceivable feel of, say, musty mossiness (if you inspire with some strength you get a fantastic distant whiff of bracing, somehow raw yet comforting stale-barn rural nuances provided by – I guess – patchouli infused with oakmoss, that fit marvelously the mood of this composition).

Between these two kind of “opposites” lies her graceful majesty – iris, with a strong accent on its earthy-leafy nuances. Nothing “lipstick”, just a touch of austere yet delicate rooty powder with grassy and “carroty” nuances. The evolution is pleasant and remarkable, albeit closer and closer to skin as minutes pass: the citrus-bergamot freshness evolves slowly into a smooth, slightly creamy, orange-driven nuance blending with herbs, the “cocoa” side of patchouli and the leafier side of iris, which in turn dissolves beautifully among earth, moss, patchouli and herbs. All gets cozier, warmer, a bit sweeter, maybe a bit faint (actually, quite faint) but still showing a consistent, really intriguing contrast between sweet freshness, plushy powderiness and musty-woody earthiness. Quite “whispered”, but it’s all there. It may seem a simple, if not banal composition, but well, the result is great, almost impeccable, and as I said above, quite unique. Or well, I simply can’t think of any other iris fragrance playing these chords, this way, and I’ve never smelled any iris-based scent smelling this earthy, damp, rooty and “rainy” but also bracing, mellow and uplifting. Effortlessly classy and melancholic at once. The drydown reminds me a bit of Prada's Infusion d'Iris drydown, as there's the same bergamot-iris-vetiver vein going on here too, but the mood is quite different here (Prada's all about crisp freshness, here the atmosphere is quite more damp and musty).

Plus (finally!) Lyn Harris’ signature “minimalism” and fondness for dusty-airy notes finds some sense here – the grayish, weightless, almost impalpable texture is just perfect for these notes, taming them down almost to the point of giving them a faded, dream-like substance (so yes, overspraying and frequent reapplications are encouraged). A truly inspired little wonder, maybe a bit too mannered and definitely too light for this concentration, but definitely worthy some attention for me.

7-7,5/10

Forbes of Forbes by Castle Forbes (2000)

Nose (apparently): Andrew French

At a first sniff, Forbes of Forbes seems quite close to, if not falling within the broad “British barbershop” family of scents comprising Taylors of Old Bond Street, D.R.Harris and Geo Trumper type of compositions – traditional masculine accords and some old-school distinguished feel of restrained edginess. I thought of Trumper’s Curzon, for instance, with a hint of Eucris’ ghastly herbal mossiness too. The quality here seems a bit higher though; Forbes of Forbes is a quite bold “eau de parfum”, and for once you can definitely get it in terms of thickness, richness and longevity if compared to Trumper’s or Taylors’ lighter (and often, duller) “eau de toilettes”. And most important, there’s quite much more going here also in terms of creativity... in a just partially compelling way for me, but it’s there.

Now, the blend. Honestly I don’t get some of the notes mentioned in the “pyramid”, while I get others. There’s surely a tangy, but quite tame citrus-fruity orange-pineapple head accord which goes away quite quickly leaving just a subtle, yet pungent and fruity persistent sort of herbal-damp feel smelling as much acrid as disturbingly cozy; and there’s a rich, dusty patchouli-ambery base, “ambery” meaning here both vanillic amber and a camphorous, salty, quite realistic ambergris-like note. But I also get a whole dry woody-mossy-pine accord which connects Forbes to several old-school powerhouses of the Seventies and the Eighties (think of any dry mossy-woody fougère).

Nonetheless, what I get above and beyond all of this, is a bold note of leather (which is mentioned on the box of this fragrance, so I’m not dreaming this): polished, contemporary, slightly ashy leather, a bit designer-oriented too. “Polished” means here nothing like Knize Ten or other raw, tanned, “unprocessed” old-school leathers, and also nothing like modern, over-smoothened soft suede leathers à la Tuscan Leather. This is nothing like them, and a bit like both – say, halfway between them: a dry, smooth, even slightly boozy sort of clean leather which has just been polished with a hefty dose of shoe polish, so showing a sort of chemical, varnish-like pungent aftertaste together with a sort of ashy-powdery feel, which to this extent, makes it smell slightly similar to leather’s rendition in Moschino pour Homme (I said “slightly”, and I refer solely to the leather note – contain your enthusiasm...). Quite realistic overall, but a bit pungently synthetic too, with an almost odd combination of tropical, herbal, ambery and camphorous notes and a salty-vanillic base acting altogether as a quite double-edged sword here – they surely make Forbes of Forbes smell quite interesting and unusually elegant, but also almost a bit screechy.

Overall this fragrance feels halfway really traditional and really unusual to me; it has definitely an old school chypre kind of vibe (besides the leather-powdery combo in Moschino pour Homme, Krizia Moods comes to my mind as well, minus the floral notes, and a bit of Polo Green too), it also has undoubtedly a “barbershop” feel, it has a really enjoyable warm leathery-ambery drydown... but at the same time, a few key nuances make it smell just a tad more “bizarre” than any of the references I mentioned above. More exotic-tropical, somehow more “gothic”, maybe more natural too – a quite raw, austere kind of “nature” with a really fascinating kind of lukewarm feel of somber, even animalic dampness. That’s probably the most interesting feature of this fragrance, which is there also on the drydown – this turbid feel of mossy-woody moisture. I’ve never been to Scotland but well, I guess this fragrance may surely fit the image many people (me included) have of Scottish foggy and humid natural landscapes. Ambergris even provides a sort of “wet stones” feel which surely fits the atmosphere. So far so good, you may say: now add to it some astringent feel of “salty tropicalness”, and you get why I called this scent “bizarre” and “not entirely compelling”.

I’m a bit torn about this distinguished mess, it feels like wandering through the Scottish hills on a moody cloudy day and stumbling upon the wunderkammer of a lunatic explorer. But for some reasons, I think I like it.

7/10

Gentleman by Givenchy (1974)

Nose: Paul Léger

I don’t know the current version of this gem, and given Givenchy’s descent into mediocrity of the past couple of dozens of years, I am not sure if I want to; but the vintage incarnation of Gentleman is by no means inferior to many other timeless vintage masterpieces – and I mean the true Olympus of those, next to Tiffany for Men or vintage Chanel Antaeus. I personally find Gentleman extremely distinguished, extremely high quality, and extremely unique, if not really innovative for its era. My review could (should?) really end here, but well...

The thing I find innovative here is above all the way the combo patchouli-vetiver is used in the composition, and the notes which Léger’s genius decided to surround it with. Basically, the “frame” here is an earthy-smoky texture rich in herbal, hay and woody-leather nuances, which is brilliantly paired with a traditional aromatic lavender-infused fougère bone structure (think of Azzaro pour Homme, although it came later) and a touch of  tangy and grassy citrus (similar to verbena). All of this surrounding then the true star of Gentleman, the patchouli-vetiver accord I mentioned above, which gets brilliantly enhanced by earthy, musky, smoky and sweet nuances; the dampness of hay, the indolic smokiness of leather and civet (just a hint, but you definitely smell that little devil rambling beyond the base notes), and a subtle yet perfectly perceivable smooth touch of warm, sweet-powdery-musky floral notes with a shade of vanilla.

Now, it may seem a heavy or complex scent with a lot of nuances ranging from herbal, to smoky-leathery, to woody and sweet-powdery, but it isn’t really. Or well, it is complex indeed, but not too “powerful” at all. It’s a refined, almost tame fragrance, perfectly reflecting its name, delightfully gentle and discreet, cozy and elusive at the same time. It’s so well put-together that it smells perfectly crisp, bright, even fresher than it may seem despite there is many “dark” notes. Truly a perfect uplifting harmony by no means “heavy” to smell – on the contrary, extremely easy to wear and to like. It’s amazing how the notes are there, clear and rich, and yet this fragrance has a remarkably weightless presence on skin – it’s substantial, but really mannered.

Surely a “vintage gentleman’s scent”, probably one of the most sophisticated around, but quite unique and actually, maybe more modern than others, if not slightly more “youthful” too (maybe thanks to the “hippie touch” of patchouli). Needless to say it smells rich, persistent and clear for hours, with a perfect projection and an impeccable drydown which gets gently drier and woodier (that vetiver again!) as hours pass, still keeping a touch of floral muskiness lurking in the background. What else to say? An amazing modern classic of masculine elegance perfectly showing the old school French taste for “classy dirtiness”, that unique ability of many classic French masculine scents to smell refined and cozy still keeping it dirty, complex and even subtly “raw”. Fantastic.

9/10 

Panama 1924 Daytona by Boellis (2013)

The nose should be Maurizio Cerizza, but I'm not sure.

A guilty pleasure for me. Boellis is a traditional shaving/grooming brand based in Italy, finally really connected to an actual historical boutique and an actual Boellis family, the current owner being an actual skilled and renowned barber. Now, obviously this means nothing as regards of their perfume range since they are not producing the scents themselves and rather just sold the license to a production and distribution company based in Milan (Profumitalia); but at least, the brand is honest and doesn’t need to boost its image and mock customers’ intelligence with made-up nonsense. And the fragrances seem reflecting that attitude actually, since the ones I tried seemed all as much unpretentious as quite solid. Maybe unremarkably, if not mediocrely good, but still (almost) worthy the price tag if you are into non-groundbreaking, non-luxury, but nice, well-made, compelling and slightly designer-oriented stuff with a refined old school, typically “Italian” twist.

Now, Daytona is a fresh, elegant, comforting, maybe slightly dull but totally competent leafy-zesty-woody scent with a metallic fruity twist bearing quite a clear resemblance to Creed Aventus, with some key differences for me (besides the elephant in the room – the price tag). There is surely a tiny bit of that same department store feel, the dihydromicernol-driven kind of pungent-metallic-aquatic citrus-fruity note blending with dry, musky, ambroxan-infused and again quite “mainstream” crisp woods; but there’s no pineapple first, less cassis-driven fruitiness, and there’s more musky smokiness with a cozy minty-lavender accent and some more nondescript “grassy” feel, which seems connecting Daytona more tightly to the old school aromatic-green fougères tradition, making it smell a bit more barbershop-oriented, more distinguished and more mature than Aventus. And overall, aside from the notes, Daytona smells also more breezy, more smooth, and surprisingly more natural than that in my opinion. Still that’s the ballpark, so nothing really new; but if you feel something like that (like Aventus I mean, or in broader terms, like a safe and tame enough contemporary aromatic fougère balancing “charme” and a “crowd-pleasing” attitude with a really good persistence and projection combo) is missing from your wardrobe... then Daytona would make a really classy and quality choice, with a decent value for the price.

7/10

Tom Ford for Men by Tom Ford (2007)

Nose: Yves Cassar

I’ve never been much of a fan of Tom Ford’s masculine offerings, as I find them either nice but overpriced, or fairly dull (Noir, for example). For some reasons I always never cared for this one, maybe unconsciously thinking, given the name, that it was a sort of epitome of all of that, and... bingo, this is instead the first one which works for me. Mostly because it’s finally something solid, with a fair price (well, sort of). Maybe a bit boring, surely too discreet for the needs of the average “bros” building pools to bath in their Private Blends, and however miles away from being ground-breaking: just solid and mature, unpretentious and versatile, with a remarkably decent quality and overall, extremely pleasant to wear. The composition smells simple and clear, and notes seem all built with really decent materials: the spiced, gingerish orange-citrus notes are sparkling, tangy and juicy; the floral-infused musky-ambery base smells compellingly warm, slightly creamy and slightly salty too, the whole woody-herbal accord is a bit aseptic and nondescript (I only get some faint, weakly mossy vetiver), but working fine within the composition, providing an office-safe “boisé” feel which will get some more credit on the drydown, and the suede-ish tobacco smells, well, like most other tobacco notes on the market - which means “nothing like real tobacco” for me, but nice anyway; smooth, sweet, “brownish” and affably, youthfully distinguished.

Like for some other reviewers, two fragrances came to my mind while wearing this the first time: Hugo Boss Baldessarini and to a much lesser extent, yet worthy a mention, a sort of spicier and watered-down version of L’Instant pour Homme by Guerlain. Maybe Carolina Herrera for Men too, just for the tobacco accord (an “orange-amber” flanker of that would be close to this Ford’s, I guess), and Kenzo pour Homme Boisée just for a similar citrus-scented light woody accord. Above all I’d mention Baldessarini though, and I would say Tom Ford for Men smells quite a bit better than that – more crisp, more appealing, definitely more quality too. So, anyway: a zesty, classy, politely self-confident fragrance with just the right hint of musky tackiness and a pleasant spicy-woody drydown with a warm whiff of amber. Surely a mild, maybe pedantic, kind of “generic” office-safe fragrance based on a really conventional and mainstream concept of “tart-spicy Oriental cologne” with pretty much the sole scope of making you smell nice in the most mannered, discreet and crowd-pleasing meaning possible... but hell, it does it impeccably good (sadly with a short persistence, but it does).

7-7,5/10

Initial by Montana (2015)

Again, just another "just-because-it's-new" review. Quite a meh, but fun scent.

Montana Initial is quite an odd scent for me. It smells as much cheap as quite unique, and with some stretch, fairly pleasant overall. It’s plastic, but fun. Out of the notes listed, I actually get just tonka (the powerful synthetic sweet-dusty-almondy tonka note featured in hundreds of cheapos/low-class designer scents), cinnamon for sure, some really generic crisp woods (“cedramber” and the likes), some citrus, a really faint cardamom, and most of all, a true ton of a really peculiar accord of, basically, spicy musk and ambery orange (which then evolves into “orange-infused amber”). This accord, which is basically the bone-structure of Initial’s first and mid phases, smells really powerful and bold, and I’m surprised it is missing from the “pyramid”. Now, I am not sure about the “orange” since it’s more likely due to the interaction of bergamot (which has surely some citrus-orange nuances) and cinnamon, but I am quite sure about amber and musk. They give Initial an almost overpowering feel of synthetic-soapy “laundry” cleanliness with a warm, dusty, slightly talc vanillic-ambery-woody vibe supporting tonka and cinnamon, with a whiff of syrupy fruitiness too, enhancing and taming them down at once (enhancing their power and the volume, taming down their, say, identity and their nuances). 

Still I admit it’s not a tragic scent; if I had to compare this, and it’s not an easy task since as I said, one of the few positive features of Initial is that it smells quite peculiar, I would probably think of a funky, ultra-spicy, sweeter flanker of Armani Code or similar fragrances. Sort of a cheap downtown sweet Oriental bomb. Actually it reminds me a bit of Zegna Intenso too, just sweeter, with double the power, half the refinement and more spices. The projection is powerful and the longevity is as much linear as impressive. A bit harsh and flat, probably a tad too much sweet and slightly tacky overall, but it works. Kind of the equivalent of a $10 tracksuit you can wear home or for some local grocery shopping. Quite unworthy its original retail price in my opinion, but Montana fragrances are usually sold in many grey-market stores for pennies – in that case, it may be worthy a sniff.

6/10