Savile Row by Richard James (2003)

Nose: Yves Cassar

The early version of the apparently reformulated Savile Row is a stunning masterwork which shows most of niche brands how a rich, fruity, deep contemporary floral-leather fragrance should be made. Following the ideal creative path started by Givenchy Insensé, it takes the richest, darkest and most “masculine” floral notes with no compromises on quality, and pairs them with a modern fruity-suede vibe amplifying and giving depth and strength to the “smooth contemporary leather accord” that inspired many relatively recent (and so much inferior) “soft leather” scents – from Cuir Ottoman to Tuscan Leather, via Lutens’ Daim Blond and even a hint of modern Visa by Piguet. So don’t expect any dry, well-worn leather à la Knize Ten, as here it’s all more about a tobacco-infused smooth and bright suede accord. Smooth, but not light at all. Savile Row is powerful, immensely sophisticated, and contrary to many similar scents, finally bold, clear, thick in a distinguished and mannered way. It has the grace and the pastel palette of a dandy portrait thanks to its juicy, luminous accord of sweet notes (from rose to ambery peach, and from tea to sandalwood) paired with “The Dark Force” of many classic masculine fougères – leather, tobacco, lavender, patchouli, oakmoss. And tuberose, of course, the main altar of this Baroque cathedral. There’s quite some complexity going on, or better say, a kind of extremely harmonic – again, I’d define it Baroque – golden intricacy which still leaves me speechless every time I wear this. Classic, but smoothly contemporary – by this I mean crisp, refined, bold but unobtrusive. Slightly linear but that’s all you would wish from something so perfect. Nothing else to say: just brilliant.

9/10

Collezione Privata: Viaggio d'Africa by Pal Zileri (2010)

There has been quite some talk about this fragrance, mostly for being allegedly a ten times cheaper clone of Hermès Vetiver Tonka. Since I happen to quite like Vetiver Tonka but nothing on Earth could ever make me spend that money for it, I decided to give Viaggio d’Africa a chance. If you want to skip the boring part: yes, it’s tremendously similar to Vetiver Tonka, especially for the opening phase. I don’t know if this means that Pal Zileri turned into a charity superhero to offer solid fragrances at cheap prices, or if Vetiver Tonka should cost ten times less its price; in any case, Viaggio d’Africa is just plain great. It has one of those openings that make you wish they could last forever: a warm, exceedingly sophisticated and smooth accord of vetiver, tonka and something powdery with a shade of cocoa, infused with earthy smoke, darker woods (guaiac) and some slightly musky coffee. Basically a true “brown”, rich and dusty fog; imagine the earthy-grassy texture of vetiver, the exotic sweet-vanillic dustiness of tonka, and a blurry, refined sort of powdery-coffee accord as if someone at 30 metres distance from you is wearing Rochas Man, with a faint echo of Dior Homme too. Both of you standing in the breezy middle of a desert. This is Viaggio d’Africa.

I admit Vetiver Tonka has a bit more vetiver (and a more elegant, rich and crisp one – shortly, more quality) while Viaggio d’Africa tends to drift more towards tonka and smoky-spicy-earthy territories; but nonetheless it’s really, really pleasant to wear. It feels elegant, warm, smooth without smelling formal or generic. It’s exotic, distinguished and mellow. And most important, besides being satisfactorily persistent, it’s decidedly unique for being a cheap mainstream. It obviously has some “cheap” nuances and if you smell it carefully you definitely get some usual aromachemicals you can find in many fragrances of the same price range (especially if you compare vetiver here with its Hermès more expensive twin); but the guys at Mavive were more than good in disguising them and bringing the best out of their budget. You can wear it and tell anybody it’s a niche scent, none will doubt it (and for once I won’t imply that this would happen because most niche scents are mainstream scraps in disguise). Recommended.

7,5-8/10

Tome I - La Pureté for Him by Zadig & Voltaire (2012)

Nose: Nathalie Lorson

And another total winner in Nathalie Lorson’s book. First of all, although I usually couldn’t care less of packagings and bottles, I must start by saying that La Pureté’s book-like presentation box is stunning, and so is the bottle with its sturdy, concrete-like matte grey texture. Well-crafted, consistent and visually pleasant – the price I paid (at Sephora’s) wouldn’t even cover the cost of the packaging alone. All revolves around grey, white and black, and in a way so does the fragrance. This is a true little gem for me, which I would dare to place if not next, then “almost” close to post-modern classics like Gucci Rush Men, which La Pureté reminds me a bit to some aspects in fact – mostly for the same transparent and plushy sandalwood notes, and overall the same solid and compelling use of synthetic-clean notes.

There is mostly orange blossoms here, providing a really peculiar sort of “empty” and abstract floral-citrus-spicy breeze; then musky violet (with a really interesting sort of “wet concrete” feel as in Narciso for Him), hyper-clean mellow woods ranging from a milky sandalwood note to a deceptively “generic” cedar note, and a subtle and darker note which I get in many scents by Lorson – a sort of really thin dark, slightly coffee-infused wood with a really smooth-hard texture, vaguely smoky too (I get the exact same nuance in Trussardi Inside Man, Encre Noire and Paul Smith Man). And a subtle, and again “empty” aroma of almonds, which isn’t prominent for me though. All works just perfectly: there’s harmony, quiet richness, youthful elegance. The result is an immensely enjoyable fragrance conveying an overall sense of sweet whiteness and pale cleanliness well contrasted by some subtler nuances of not-so-common floral-spicy and even earthy notes (I think I even get something similar to raw, earth-dusted muguet). The name fits the scent perfectly, as the feel is in fact of something really “pure” – a futuristic, aseptic but at the same time, soothing and comforting (almost medicinal) kind of pureness. So unisex and out of time it could smell refined on anyone – men, women, teenagers, children, robots. Fantastic to wear, maybe a bit linear – but it’s so good! - and ridicolously persistent. A compelling creative take on a trite theme.

8/10

Knize Sec by Knize (1987)

Nose: Francois Coty and Vincent Roubert

Oh well this is nice. Really nice, and surprisingly ahead of its time. It was released in the mid-Eighties but has really nothing of that era’s clichés: this is a really modern, substantial but thin orange-woody-balsamic fragrance with leather, incense and amazingly well-put barbershop echoes. Fresh, tart, aromatic, floral and gentle, really uplifting and easy-going but showing a compelling and quite unique sort of sweet, kind of “young” refinement with some more mature dark shades and a discreet feminine touch (many women’s “ideal man” in a bottle, I guess...). I get the connection to Knize Ten, and I totally love the way they elaborated it; they managed to keep the same “waxy”, slightly soapy accord of leather and musk, adding an aromatic touch of herbs (I think I get some pine-infused tobacco as in Veejaga’s Haschisch Man – a scent which by the way, will come as a reference also on the very drydown) and barbershop notes (sage and lavender, distantly echoing Azzaro pour Homme) and that whole genius head accord of orange notes – notes which range from the sweet, juicy, citrusy pulp of orange, to dandier floral-soapy orange blossoms, to musky-herbal accents of petitgrain. They all elevate Knize Ten’s gloomy and monolithic dryness to a bracing, pastel, dusty, colorful citrus-powdery mood with a herbal vein. Sheer and sophisticated to say the least. And then there’s incense, providing an astonishingly modern feel of bright, ambery woody smoke (nothing thick or cloudy, just a classy fog of sweet smooth incense with a subtle, transparent mystical vibe as in many incense fragrances from today). The evolution, then, is equally well engineered; less and less fresher, progressively drier and darker but unexpectedly more floral too, still bright and gentle as hours pass. At some points you may feel as if you’ve just layered Knize Ten on vintage Eau de Givenchy for women and some contemporary minimalistic niche stuff with orange and incense (I’m sure there is some out there). A luminous, clever dandy gem and a fantastic exploration of Knize Ten’s nuances which could have been released last year for how modern it smells. Complex, interesting and extremely pleasant to wear. Recommended!

8,5/10

The Dreamer by Versace (1996)

Nose: Jean-Pierre Béthouart

First, the good news: if you want my opinion, I see almost no difference between the “vintage” and the more recent version of Dreamer. I said “almost” so I’m not saying they’re identical – the vintage smells a bit more natural, slightly darker and smoother, withouth the synthetic harshness of the recent (current?) version you can smell loud and clear at its very opening; but since in a matter of minutes it goes away and the scents perfectly “tunes in”, I think the two versions are 99% equivalent overall – just use a little patience with the more recent one. The drydown is pretty much identical, I surely don’t get any “ruined” juice as I read online about the current version. This said, the scent itself is just an excellent piece of modern perfumery. Almost nondescript for me, and it took me a while to “understand” it: it smells just really beautiful, uplifting and terribly pleasant. I don’t get how did they make it precisely, but all works perfectly. I smell tobacco (cigarette type), lavender, spices (Jaipur Homme’s kind of Oriental, talc-infused sweet spices), a clever touch of something balsamic-green, but most of all I smell overall a fantastic feel of cleanliness, peace, fulfillment with a really peculiar “ambiance” halfway naturally and earthy, and so clean and slightly musky it almost smells futuristic.

I usually can’t stand reviews romanticizing scents and I try to avoid mentioning feelings and suggesting “images”, but this time I can’t help it, as Dreamer has a really strong evocative quality for me – evoking this sense of neat, clean, “natural versus artificial” brightness with a fantastic shade of “barbershop” notes and a touch of Oriental mystery. The way they’re blended makes the difference here, Dreamer is incredibly harmonic and compact, there’s just a perfectly consistent unique smell that smells of, well, “Versace Dreamer” and that’s it. This fragrance has them almost all – it’s elegant, versatile, but at the same time informal and fun, and has a really nice set of shades and a subtle “enigmatic” vein, I guess due to its Oriental notes. An easy-going but fascinating “chiaroscuro”. Plus I think it brilliantly takes inspiration from several families of perfumes – from classic tobacco-floral fragrances like Zino Davidoff, to dandy Oriental gems like Jaipur Homme, both under a decidedly “younger”, more modern light. An outstanding work of synthesis of many diverse inspirations, brilliantly projected into the future. Excellent creativity, excellent skills to give it shape. But above all, it smells just fantastic – the vintage version does it since the very first spray, with the recent one you’ve to wait some 15-20 minutes, but then it works as good as the previous one. Easily the nicest Versace ever for men, together with L’homme from 1984 (which is as good as conventional and a bit outdated for me though, while Dreamer is way more timeless – or more precisely, completely “out of time”).

8-8,5/10

Escapade à Byzance by Olibère Parfums (2015)

(please enjoy this hilarious promo video Olibere made for the scent)

Nose: Bertrand Duchaufour

Escapade à Byzance by French newcomer Olibère is for me sadly nothing more than a worthless addiction to the endless galore of Duchaufour’s creations, and particularly one of the most negligible. I guess the budget was tight here, both for the materials and for the nose, so the result is both cheap and uninspired. To cut it short this smells to me as an extremely synthetic blend of ambery-woody incense with... well, not much more. Something sweetish, spicy-dusty, vaguely similar to cinnamon but so generic and artificial that it does not trigger any specific association to notes for me. The few notes I can “recognize” with some stretch are the abovementioned amber (nothing warm, rather the ubiquitous greyish ambroxan), woods (the usual synthetic cedar stuff) and a really cheap incense note. That’s it. It doesn’t stink, but... 2015, niche? This smells like something Jil Sander could have come up with in 2001 at a third of the price. Meh...

4,5-5/10

Kenzo Power by Kenzo (2008)

Nose: Olivier Polge

Another example of a “potential niche sensation” in a “neglected mainstream bottle”. Give this an obscure hipster name, make 50 bottles per batch when you feel to and get rich (if not in money, in praise and hype). Jokes aside, Kenzo Power is an extremely interesting fragrance, surely one of the most creative ones by this brand, and most important, tremendously easy and enjoyable to wear regardless of any added value. Power is a really bright, white, talc-like powdery scent with a fantastic bergamot opening, a sort of gassy-spicy vibe and a really recognizable tolu balsam note, which brings it really close to that other tolu bomb – Escada Magnetism for Men. Both share that same exact sort of “creamy-powdery-medicinal Cola feel”, and while in Escada it was bolder and more predictably integrated in a YSL M7 kind of structure, Kenzo Power brilliantly and perfectly fits it in a completely different, almost opposite ambiance – a delicate, weightless, futuristic sort of abstract floral whiteness, which gets some “substance” and a sweet darker shade precisely thanks to this odd balmy feel coming and going, cleverly balanced by a subtle but persistent feel of aromatic zesty freshness (bergamot). The only far comparison that came to my mind at some point was some sort of translucent lab hologram of a grandnephew of Jaipur Homme and Escada Magnetism for Men – fresher than both. Quality-wise the blend smells synthetic in a really pleasant, creative way, somehow soothing and somehow aloof, the kind of synthetic which you quite never smelled before (who said syntethics don’t require as much talent and creativity than naturals?). The result is a really clean and bright scent with a ton of personality, some really charming and enigmatic shades, decidedly androgynous, creepy and comforting at the same time. Fantastic for summer days. Really well done.

8/10

Infusion d'Iris Eau de Parfum by Prada (2007)

Nose: Daniela Roche-Andrier

A classy gem I neglected for too long, I used to own Infusion d’Homme some years ago and got rid of it since it smelled too light and a bit dull for me - and I thought this was just its feminine counterpart (therefore even lighter and – not to sound sexist – probably duller). I was so wrong! This is so better than that – and ironically, way more suitable for men. Easily however this is one of the nicest iris-based scents on the market for me, especially of the fresher/gentler sub-family. And even more easily, the best offering by Prada so far, but it didn’t take much for that. Infusion d’iris is a tremendously radiant, bright and bracing blend centered on a minimalistic structure of iris petals (no buttery/waxy/lipstick orris root), bergamot, something slightly and elegantly candied-fruity, soft incense and a silky, really discreet base accord of musk and bright vetiver. The notes seem common, their smell isn’t at all: the quality is clearly high and unique, particularly more than usual, and you can definitely feel it. All smells clean and light, but decidedly more intense and substantial than one may expect.

The evolution is also really catchy and irresistibly pleasant, moving from a zesty pastel opening of fresh bergamot and bright iris petals through a soapy, stronger central phase centered on iris (blossoming in its earthier-leafier side) and musk, ending on a beautiful vetiver drydown still infused with a powdery touch of iris. Like a really consistent three-movement piece of intimate piano music, with iris being the recurrent theme. And aside from its brilliant evolution, it just smells great - period. And persistent, too: very few perfumes manage to smell this crisp, weightless and luminous keeping some intensity and persistence, and also ending up in being exceedingly perfect for men and women. Probably only the best Ellena’s for Hermès managed to do that – and Infusion d’Iris could easily stand among them in fact. Together with Rush for Men, probably one of the best works by Roche-Andrier, showing that exact same feel of discreet, bright, extremely clean sense of quality, refinement and sophistication (now let’s all wait until Prada discontinues it to realize that!).

8,5-9/10