Fundamental by Rubini (2015)

Fundamental by Italian newcomer Rubini is meant to act as a tribute to an early 1900s “Italian Belle Epoque” inspiration, more specifically of the North-East of Italy where Rubini’s heritage is grounded, but with a contemporary, almost hyper-modern feel – as you can imagine by looking at the (supercool, and quite clever) packaging designed by Francesca Gotti (nu_be). This “past into the future” thing may sound as a cliché, and it sure is quite often; but it isn’t here. First of all because there is no generic “old Italian heritage” inspiration, but a specific geographical reference (Verona – which means shortly: wines and cafès); then because the composition totally reflects it, finally getting rid of, again, “old Italian heritage” clichés in perfumes. What you get at the first sniff is a surprisingly good and compelling grapes note that manages to smell fruity, bitter, fresh, kind of Mediterranean, really aromatic and slightly pungent, with a crisp wine vibe; while it isn’t overly and predictably “boozy”, it does provide instead a sort of domestic, almost “rural” but at the same time extremely sophisticated feel, also thanks to the silky and aromatic - and again, Mediterranean - note of sage that perfectly enhances the herbal fruitiness of grapes. Herbs and grapes in turn perfectly blend with a nostalgic kind of “eau de cologne” vibe (a thick, raw, almost “urinous” lavender note, woods, the bitter-astringent side of grapes) and a carnal powdery accord (iris) aimed at evoking the playful lasciviousness of brothels and dancing cafés (early 1900’s, again...). An overall smoky feel and a woody accord also comprising costus (rubbery feel) complete the blend – iris and costus will then remain quite bold on the drydown. I think I get something musky too but I am not sure if the note is there.

The keys for me – meaning what I get more deeply and clearly - are however grapes, lavender, sage, iris, costus. Shortly, a kind of fresh-aromatic fruity-herbal scent with a bitter and almost animalic facet, some smokier and darker nuances, a sprinkle of powdery dust. And a ton of class. If notes don’t speak to you, here’s some images to think of; vineyards, wines, gentlemen, cafès (... and women). Not over yet, though: while some notes do clearly smell “retrò”, meaning dusty and kind of “dirty”, taking you right next to a Dannunzian gentleman and his shady businesses (the dirtier side of lavender, the powdery notes), and while others smell clearly “Italian” (herbs, lavender, grapes), there is also a distinctive sort of breezy, almost metallic and kind of wet concrete-like vein (violet leaves, maybe? I think I get some really slight similarity to Narciso for Him, to this extent) that gives Fundamental a crisp texture and a sort of polished, futuristic look – a jump forward in time, the cryogenic mummy of a dandy. Modern class with a heritage feel. I am super picky with niche novelties, but this is really good; the materials smell great as far as I can tell, the concept works, the owner (Andrea) is humble and passionate. And the composition is clever and creative. One of the niche standouts of 2015 for me so far (lucky for Rubini, niche market is so depressing these days... “easy wins are easy”).

8-8,5/10

Trussardi Inside for Men by Trussardi (2006)

Nose: Nathalie Lorson

Inside Man is a keeper, and a sleeper too. I had to wear this quite a few times to “understand it”. I mean: it smells great, and you get that instantly. It’s classy, warm, discreet, really sophisticated, but there’s something else which makes you coming back again and again to your wrist to wonder what you’re smelling. My experience was like: I get it smells great, I just don’t get what this smells of. “Nondescript”, shortly, in a totally positive way. Inside Man is stoutly, sharply “woody” at first, and I mean *really* woody, in quite an uncommon and un-natural way; more like a piece of luxury polished furniture. It’s the smell of mahogany, which is really dry, dark, exotic and mysterious. On top of that, a fantastic note of coffee – dark, roasted coffee beans; nothing gourmand for sure – and smoky tobacco: not an actuall smell of smoke, not the usual sweetish artificial tobacco note, and not bare Iso E Super like in many recent “smoke” scents, but rather an unperceivable, thin, perfectly crafted feel of someone smoking near you, like a really subtle whiff of nicotine. What I meant by “nondescript” is that all these notes are really tightly connected and so well blended together in a thin texture, it’s quite hard to understand what’s behind this great piece of “mainstream” refinement. You just get this irresistible, distinctive whiff of warm, dark good taste accompanying you like a perfectly-cut suit. Slightly “generic”, but just the right amount – I don’t mind that. It just “fits” perfectly. Sillage is discreet, but long lasting. Remarkable!

7,5-8/10

Cristobal pour Homme by Balenciaga (2000)

Nose: Gerard Anthony

The opening of Cristobal Homme is fantastic: that same, unmistakable anisic-fougère structure of Azzaro pour Homme “revisited” with a modern look. Sweet, fresh, cozy, velvety, terribly solid. If you know Azzaro pour Homme, Cristobal will give you a really pleasant feel of “déja-vu”: basically here you get that “old school vibe”, mostly from citrus-anise-lavender-woods, perfectly mixed with a totally compelling “late ‘90s style”: soft creamy woods, tobacco, an overall sweet powderiness. Gerard Anthony perfectly nails it again in creating something smelling irresistibly, desperately good – with again, as for Azzaro, a stunning level of depth and quality (back when budgets for fragrances were still high...). By “smelling good” I mean something which is at the same time easy to pull off, friendly, cozy, probably crowdpleasing, yet sophisticated, refined, and totally distinctive. This is what I personally value the most in perfumery; you need talent to make distinctive “artistic” perfumes, you need talent to make versatile crowdpleasers, you need to be a perfume-making superhero to make something comprising them all this well. So uplifting and enjoyable. The “modern aromatic fougère” par excellence, warm and sweet, perfectly “modern” yet perfectly timeless, which only a nose like Anthony could accomplish. Delightful, sophisticated, versatile. Grab any bottle you can find – go, now!

9/10

Jazz Prestige by Yves Saint Laurent (1993)

Jazz Prestige is a really bizarre scent, and one of the few whose name perfectly reflects the juice. I am a big fan of jazz, and this scent is indeed “jazzy” as regards of its composition and evolution; it’s daring, creative, playful, unpredictable and most of all, with the same “clashing” structure of a free jazz improvisation. It has a really bold and perfectly crafted interplay of shades and lights, bright notes and darker nuances. What strikes me the most to this extent is the opening phase, which also perfectly integrates the “prestige” feature: an incredibly radiant, fresh, crisp and sharp green-citrus accord with breezy flowers (geranium above all) that, however, smells just deeply different from, well, any other “citrus floral accord” you may think of: not sure what it is due to, but the term that comes to my mind to describe this would be: abstract. Not in a theoretical meaning, rather I think of abstract art: it’s all just colorful, dynamic and almost chaotic, like a Pollock painting. Take a conventional citrus-herbal-floral accord, throw it in a blender, replace it there, here’s Jazz Prestige. And underneath that, a really formal, cozy and classic fougère structure as in the classic Jazz version, a “barbershop” symphony made of sandalwood, lavender, herbs, carnation spices, smoky notes, maybe a hint of leather too. The coexistence of these two “veins” – basically, “classic” and “creative” – is mindblowing. This flanker is a really precious, special and deeply creative rewriting of the original Jazz, which adds both artsy madness and a luxurious feel of golden refinement – due to the peculiar treatment of citrus-greenish flowers notes, again: crisp and clean like a freshly ironed shirt. You know what I thought of too? The “brat pack” group of novelists – McInerney, Bret Easton Ellis, that group of American authors which portrayed the conflicts of the young, wealthy and spoiled generations of the ‘80s and early ‘90s, their pop luxury, their “camp” culture. Not sure why, but I feel Jazz Prestige shares the same “vibe” of many of those characters – it smells “rich”, ironical, bizarre, vibrant, almost naughty. Playing with classic notes like a postmodern composition. And I am not saying it smells like something those guys would wear; I mean more like an olfactive depiction of them. Not sure if that makes sense and surely isn’t helping much to understand this fragrance, so... just this: it smells fantastic and really – really! – ahead of its time. A true gem worth looking for.

9/10

Rudis by Nobile 1942 (2014)

Don't.

Nose: Antonio Alessandria

The opening of Rudis is fairly nice, a decent boozy-wine-immortelle accord on spiced roasted leathers and woods, shortly something halfway Tango by Masque and 1740 by Histoire de Parfums (more than “halfway”, simply an uncreative, derivative hybrid between these and a couple of others). Not that creative, and quite much “trendy” considering how vastly this boozy-leather-immortelle thing has been exploited in niche; but still “better than nothing” as the saying goes – as long as it smells nice, I am fine with being plain trendy and uninspired. The notes smell quite dull and a bit cheap though, surely not the deepest, thickest and most fascinating texture around, but again... not the worst you can stumble upon, especially if you’re familiar with Antonio Alessandria style. I would expect something outstanding given this is “niche”, the élite of the élite, but nevermind. The main issue here, and in this case it’s so severe I consider it a total deal-breaker, is how weak, light, unsubstantial this scent is. After literally 15-20 minutes it melts down like snow under the sun, leaving you with a subtle, depressing leathery drydown which you would legitimately expect after 6 hours – not 20 bloody minutes. A vague, faint boozy safraleine drydown. Which has actually *no* drydown, as it just goes away after a couple of hours. Now... I would accept this if it was about a light, green, crisp citrus “haiku” à la Ellena; but how on Earth can one think to make a “bold boozy leather” this way? It’s like trying to sell boxing gloves made of omelette. “Rudis”? Bold and courageous like an anemic underweight teenager. Not giving a complete “no” just because for 20 minutes it smells nice.

4,5/10

Narciso Rodriguez for Him by Narciso Rodriguez (2007)

Narciso Rodriguez for Him is a mainstream gem, and an unnecessary evidence of how Francis Kurkdjian works so better on commission (who’s the least fan of his own “cheap-luxury” brand? Me). Anyway: the opening is fantastic and unmistakable, a leafy, dark, astringent “greenish wet concrete” which smells of pungent humid darkness – a moldy, harsh, filthy kind of urban darkness, with a genius hint of dry lipstick. Despite it is a designer scent aimed (one may guess) at a broad audience, it delivers an incredibly gloomy and funereal mood, really fascinating and terribly well executed: a gothic, crunchy, really bitter violet leaves note on dark, dry patchouli and an aloof, musky “grey concrete” note. Pure poison for a quite simple composition which however is iconic and really unique, smelling like lipstick, dead leaves, vitriol, wet streets. A “post-modern” world which makes you think of those alienating metropolitan areas just at the very borders of the suburbs, where abandoned warehouses meet abandoned woods – you’re not yet into “pure nature”, but out of civilization already. Narciso smells of all of that. Which makes it surprisingly “niche” (I said that in a positive meaning for once), far more than all the dozens of depressing, uninspired overpriced bullshit which make their way to niche price tags. Not a crowpleaser for sure, but safe enough somehow; it is dark but terribly refined and sophisticated. It makes a “statement” so it’s definitely one to try before buying; but I wouldn’t really consider this daring or weird. It’s perfectly compelling, just a bit dark with a sprinkle of freakness. The only flaw I would mention would be maybe its objective quality, meaning that in my opinion the materials here aren’t exactly top notch – especially on the drydown, which is quite linear, a bit cheap, and maybe boring after some hours. But who cares for once – this is evocative, even its “cheapness” may have a creative role here, as in fact we’re talking about concrete and dead leaves – nothing fancy and nothing luxurious. A real gem, if it was discontinued it would be praised like a holy grail.

8/10

Sadanne by Slumberhouse (2014)

A tough one to review. I wore this for one day and made a complete twist about this. From the very first sniff you clearly get some of the “signature” features of Slumberhouse’s scents, mostly the base Lobb seems to use for many fragrances: that sort of dark, medicinal boozy-ambery thickness, here with something animalic... but twisted in a complete different way than usual, pretty upsetting at first – and frankly hard to wear for the first minutes. Basically, Sadanne opens as a rotting lollipop: there’s all this fruity, jammy juiciness halfway raspberry bubblegums and cough syrups for children, juxtaposed to – or drowned in, I’d say – the “industrial Baroque” which characterizes Lobb’s world, the oily, deadly base rot which you get in most of his scents. The juxtaposition is daring and insolent, and quite messy at first: I admit I get a charming feel of creepiness, a sort of psychedelic, playfyl horrific decadence, like watching a Z-series splatter movie directed by John Waters. But at first I can’t really consider this something one would ever want to wear. There’s just... too much of everything – too sweet-juicish on one side, too rotting-dark on the other. Too powerful and cacophonic, which means almost repulsive. Nonetheless... with a little bit of patience, as hours pass Sadanne becomes more and more consistent, wearable, “harmonic” and compelling, reaching a really interesting substance.

It still remains a challenging clash between jamminess and gloominess, but all the notes and nuances kind of “melt” tuning on the same tone, reaching some sort of odd balance, like a chorus of freaks finally finding some harmony – a warm, medicinal, colourful shade of madness, completely nondescript, with a range of nuances from carnal to caramel. To me, a really innovative experiment which tries to rewrite the “fruity-jammy gourmand” in a filthy, gloomy light, a dirty “psychocandy” which I can’t not like – even only for the concept. And as I said, after a couple of hours it becomes even quite “easier”to wear, and frankly also rather pleasant and fun, more civilized than the opening phase – basically a sort of boozy-ambery civet topped with a bittersweet, sugary-fruity “dark” syrupy accord (think of Lutens for children). And a subtle powdery-musky undertone. And something smelling like blood. I would talk of... don’t know, “splatter pop Baroque”? Sadanne feels like an olfactive depiction of those tacky teen horror movies of the 1980s’ - Troma and friends. Just even more crazy – darker on one side, more childish on the other. Maybe hard to appreciate in its entirety, but really promising, intriguing, genuinely creative and different from the rest. Completely out of fashion and clichés. As Lobb often reformulates and fixes his scents, I am sure that a couple of fixes may make Sadanne a milestone for contemporary niche.

8,5/10

Furyo by Jacques Bogart (1988)

Straight to the point: a masterpiece. Furyo (vintage bottle here) is a hyper-modern, really peculiar and fascinating masculine chypre which can compared to, well, almost nothing else as far as I am concerned. In rough terms, the “family” as others already stated may be the one of the good old civet bombs, like Kouros or Ungaro II (and of Rabanne’s Ténéré too, to another extent): nonetheless, here you can find a couple of unique features which make Furyo completely standout, not making it necessarily “superior” but definitely different from any other scent. There is indeed a filthy, “urinous” civet heart, which however here is wrapped – and I would say, almost concealed – into an irresistible, warm, nondescript cradle made of rose, cinnamon, amber, lavender, herbs, woods (I get sandalwood more than vetiver); a soft Oriental blend which floats between sweet, bright, soapy, balsamic, dirty, spicy and dusty-resinous - almost with a beeswax note too. There is also a kind of dark fruity-candied feel, subtle but somehow “narcotic” and slightly decadent, really charming and much modern too (apparently Wasser is the nose behind this, and in fact, I get a slight sort of common ground with certain aspects of Dalì pour Homme, which he made as well the year before). The result, which as I said is quite nondescript, is an exceedingly alluring, mellow, intense and warm fragrance, with an outstanding quality to any extent: materials, balance, depth, composition. Quite hard to define, honestly, but basically: a sweet-spicy masculine chypre. But that really wouldn’t do justice to the beauty of Furyo. An irresistible harmony of nuances ranging from the decadent carnality of rose and carnation to the elusive warmth of spices and amber, from the soapy-aromatic cleanliness of lavender and herbs, to the filthy dirt of civet and oak moss. And then balmy notes, woods, sandalwood, something resinous-sweet (Rabanne’s Ténéré, again) ... thick and complex, incredibly rich, but perfectly harmonic, unique, easy to love. And not a powerhouse, meaning that despite it’s surely really powerful, I wouldn’t really place this close to the conventional, “hairy-chested”, slightly outdated and often a bit stern (not to say tacky) boldness of most powerhouses. Furyo is so much more creative, more refined, more complex, more modern than any of them. Really outstanding, smelling incredibly “new”, and so pleasant to wear.  Plus, the sillage is nuclear and the persistence is everlasting. One of those scents which may easily fit the niche market (I thought of Amouage for instance, if only they would be able to make something half beautiful as this).

9/10