Perfume Reviews by Toxicon

Bois Sikar by Atelier Des Ors

Not for the meek. This is up there with the most true to life woodsmoke fragrances I've tried - which makes it divisive by nature. I can't fault anyone who thinks it smells like bacon or barbecue sauce. It does smell of hickory smoke after all. But if you find that smell intriguing, or comforting, as I do, you'll find the piercing smoke of the opening eventually gives way to a beautiful, dark blend of heady smoke, dry woods, tobacco, nutmeg, and salty vetiver. According to the brand it's meant to evoke peated scotch and thick cigar smoke, and if you squint the imagery fits. But that's not where my head goes first. To my nose it feels more primal, less of a smoky back room and more of an ageworn smokehouse, or the blackened ruins of one. Perhaps it's closer to the way D.S. & Durga bills Mississippi Medicine as the scent of a ritualistic southern death cult; Mississippi Medicine is wonderful in its own right, but quite a bit gentler than all that; Bois Sikar takes that theme and runs with it, headfirst into the smoke and shadow.

La Proie Pour L'Ombre by Serge Lutens

Sticky licorice, vanilla, and "leather" by way of syrupy immortelle mixed with dark woods. Like so many later creations from this house, it shares DNA with quite a few other Lutens scents - the feel of the immortelle reminds me of Le Passe Participe, L'Innommable, and even Chene, though they all go in their own directions by the end. As it dries down, it also drifts in the general direction of something like Chergui - sweet and comforting in its way, but also subtly strange, the kind of thing that shifts in tone and texture each time you approach it. What I appreciate less is the vague ebony accord, which isn't listed but faintly reminds me of Ecrin de Fumee (my least favorite from Lutens' recent releases); whatever that note is makes me think of Tom Ford scents somehow, not that I'm all that familiar, but thankfully it's used more judiciously here than in Ecrin de Fumee, and their passing similarity is minor. The main thing that sets this apart from past Lutens, at least those I've tried, is the darker twist from the licorice, which ultimately defines this scent. Some days I crave that syrupy darkness. Worth sampling for fans of the line.

Russian Tea by Masque

On my skin this is mainly a leather scent, but a wonderfully weird one at that. Opens with a shotgun blast of mint, a touch of the raspberry (which will be more prominent later on), and the central dark leather accord. As it evolves, all of the listed notes are discernible in turn (the magnolia is lovely). Tea is present throughout, but the leather steals the show for the first several hours. Deeper down, this turns into a fascinating blend of immortelle and raspberry. It never turns sweet, though you get a hint of the syrupy quality immortelle sometimes has; the raspberry feels consistently tart, vibrating at a higher pitch than the darker notes, keeping things vibrant and interesting.

Bottom line: I love this one. It puts a smile on my face every time I wear it, and I find myself craving it when I haven't worn it for a minute.

One warning: go easy on the trigger until you have a feel for the scent. A single full spray (the atomizer is stellar) gets me through a full day, and it's reasonably loud for the first couple hours. Two sprays is more than enough for full power. Beyond that and you'll almost certainly go nose blind and start bothering your neighbors.

Shooting Stars : La Capitale by Xerjoff

(In the spirit of helping Basenotes survive and thrive by adding more reviews, this is adapted from my initial reactions in the "what did you try today" thread.)

A couple of recent orders from ZGO came with freebie carded samples, and I've wound up with a few niche offerings outside my usual zone. Things from Matiere Premiere, Ormaie, Floraiku, Vilhelm, and now a couple from Xerjoff. In the spirit of expanding my horizons, today I'm sampling Xerjoff - La Capitale. This being my first tango with Xerjoff, I wasn't sure what I was in for. Listed notes:

Top: Strawberry, Caramel, Peach and Labdanum
Heart: Leather, Saffron, Amber, Ginger and Rose
Base: Bourbon Vanilla and Benzoin

Pretty much on point. One of the reviews below describes this as a "beastmode gourmand", and I'm inclined to agree. The opening was lovely - smells like a gourmet bake shop with a swirl of fruit, sugar, and something indescribable but somehow fresh. At one point, the peach note shone through like a laser, and I swore I was smelling something like green cardamom pods, but it might have been my imagination. As the opening fruit settles, the whole scent seems to get louder. It moves towards a bombastic caramel, amber, saffron thing that smells decent in the air but a bit overpowering up close. Nothing clearly reads as leather to my nose, but I suspect it's the saffron doing the lifting; this phase feels a bit synthetic, a blob of scent somewhere between gourmet dessert and the world's fanciest laundry detergent - it's well blended and distinctive, but really not my thing at this stage. It does get better, though. Further down, sniffing the back of my hand gives up a pleasant enough vanilla, benzoin, and caramel-and-saffron tinged amber. If I sniff under my shirt, it's completely different: smells like elevated strawberry chapstick. It reminds me a bit of the "big strawberry" note from Imaginary Authors' Cape Heartache, but less plastic and better blended.

Perhaps the most surprising thing is that I don't hate this. It's sweet, but not in the way so many modern designer gourmands are (which I usually find cloying and unbearable). I still find the marketing from this house to be hopelessly gaudy -- in their own words, the goal is "blending the most luxurious materials to complement the most affluent global lifestyles" -- but I will begrudgingly admit this succeeds at smelling very expensive and is quite good for what it is. Not something I feel compelled to buy, but I think it succeeds on its own terms.

Targa by Blackbird

By all accounts, this is the same fragrance as the Zola Jesus collaboration scent--that one was called Taiga, and I gather they changed the name to Targa when that collaboration ended.

This is pitch black, a tar-soaked stew of dark woods, smoke, cypriol, incense, resins and spices. In overall tonality, it reminds me of things like Lampblack or even CdG Black, though this feels a bit harder edged, more aggressively smoky and unfriendly. Compared to some of the woodsier smoke scents out there (e.g., Bois d'Ascese), this has more of an industrial feel. Think urban dystopia: acid rain on a black leather jacket, combat boots stomping iridescent puddles. Certainly not pretty, but nicely atmospheric if you're in the right mood.

Sunrise on the Red Sand Dunes by Zara

Mandarin, ginger, orange blossom, and blackcurrant combine in an addictive swirl. Word has it this is "strongly inspired" by Louis Vuitton's Imagination; I can't comment as I haven't tried Imagination, but SotRSD is a gorgeous freshie with enough character to earn a spot in my wardrobe regardless of its price or pedigree. It's synthetic smelling in the way something like Dior Homme Cologne is, but this one just triggers every synapse in my scent receptors - I smell the opening notes and want to immediately spray again, and the dry down is just as good. The base smells like a mix of citrus, white florals, and white musk, but there's something darker there, too, something not listed in the published notes. It might be the way the blackcurrant melds with the orange blossom, but I get something like a light petrol note. It's not Fahrenheit or anything, but it gives it a little teeth, just enough danger to keep things interesting. I know I'm enamored with a scent when I keep coming back to it, and that's absolutely the case here.

EDIT: for some reason this is listed as feminine on basenotes, but that's an error. It's marketed as a masculine release and is probably more unisex than anything.

Bois Impérial by Essential Parfums

Chiming in to offer some perspective, since I know this has become a popular blind buy based on the strong enthusiasm found online. I can see why people like this. It's modern, attention grabbing in its own way, extremely potent (more on that later), and different--it doesn't smell like your typical mall scent. If all that sounds good to you, by all means sample. If you like it, grab a bottle - the price is good if you enjoy what you're smelling. You'll probably get compliments*, since everyone will smell this radiating off you, and you'll leave a glowing trail of aromachems in your wake.

After coming close to blind buying, I am extremely grateful to a kind basenoter who sent me a sample first. This is easily the worst thing I've smelled since joining this site. A scrubber like no other made worse by the fact that it's impossible to scrub off. It smells like pesticide. Spicy, peppery chemicals that enflame the nostrils and crawl down your throat. It's not the vetiver, which is there, but stripped clean and fairly subdued. It's not the sharp basil either, which is probably the best part of the composition. Best I can tell, it's the megadose of akigalawood, which I now understand is a signature of perfumer Quentin Bisch, apparently dosed higher here than anywhere else. (Maybe Ganymede compares, as folks occasionally raise similar complaints, but I haven't tried it.) The overall effect is aggressively sharp and spicy but somehow hollow, like an incomplete fragrance made of peppery synthetic woods. More of an industrial smell than a perfume, it's like an AI-generated painting of a tree, if the AI were restricted to two colors and had no understanding that trees are living things.

If that was it, just a sharp chemical smell I don't particularly care for, I could just shrug this off and move along. Not every scent is for everyone, who cares. I like plenty of minimalistic scents that others hate (Encre Noire, Tam Dao, many from Comme des Garcons), and it's fine if this one doesn't work for me. The issue is that when akigalawood is dosed this high and mated with ambroxan, the projection and longevity become positively nuclear. I'm convinced that most people wearing this are probably anosmic to some facet of the akigalawood, because most people aren't picking up the fact that this literally lasts weeks on fabric.

This was my experience wearing it. Two sprays to the chest, and I enjoyed it at first, until the screechy bug spray note took over, and I realized it wasn't for me. Sat in it for about 6-8 hours, and finally scrubbed it off in the shower, toweled off, went to bed. The next morning I wake to the exact same smell, just as strong as when first applied. The scent had survived the shower and was now impregnated in the sheets. Yesterday's shirt was radiating from the laundry pile, and last night's towel positively reeked. Everything goes in the laundry, I took another shower... but no, there's no escape at this point. Days later, after multiple showers, this was still noticeable on my skin. My original t-shirt stank of bug spray for over a month, even though I washed it three times. It rubs off on anything you touch, and it will not die. The olfactory equivalent of an infectious, incurable disease.

I've learned akigalawood can smell fine in reasonable doses, though it has a nose-tingling edge and is weirdly tenacious. I'm pretty sure I smell it in the base of Parfum d'Empire's Le Cri, one of my favorite light florals--even though the "patchouli" in the base will last days on clothing. I've seen others complain about the base of Beau du Jour (also akigalawood) surviving trips through laundry, leading to a a gradual accretion of olfactory funk over time. Clearly not everyone picks up on this, and that's probably a good thing. I would just warn you that even if you can't smell the peppery death that lies at the heart of Bois Imperial, at least some folks you encounter will.

Parting story: a few months after my initial encounter, I'm heading towards my office elevator when the door opens, and I'm smacked in the face with a wave of Bois Imperial. Older executive-type gent gets off the elevator, oblivious to the strength of his perfume; and he had clearly sprayed heavily. Even after he left, it was hard to breathe in the elevator, and the scent lingered in my nose for 15 minutes and gave me headache. You have been warned!

*Full disclosure: I did get compliments wearing this. It can smell pretty striking in the air, and people notice it. My daughter, who always tells me whether she loves or loathes whatever I'm wearing, smelled it on me and said it was one of the best perfumes she had ever smelled. C'est la vie.

Jazmin by Norma Kamali

My experience with this apparently forgotten gem comes from a decant shared by a good Basenotes friend. Never in a million years would I have known to try this, but this stuff is WILD. I gather Norma Kamali is (or was?) a high-end NY fashion designer who briefly had a perfume line in the 80s that produced only a couple of scents, and then randomly reappeared in the early 2000s before disappearing from fragranceland altogether. The original run produced the now legendary Norma Kamali Incense in 1985, which sounds like something of a cult object at this point, apparently notoriously strong and singular in its focus (one I'd love to try some day, if it ever somehow becomes available). The early 2000s run produced several more scents, including Jazmin. I am no expert on jasmine scents, but to my nose it comes off as this explosively lush jasmine soliflore, the kind that makes your head pop and fizz with dizzy adjectives. It's a narcotic headrush of gold-tinged white florals that so fully consumes your senses it makes you feel like you're drowning in scent. It feels niche, almost artisanal, with its deep gold juice and oily consistency. For lack of a better description, it smells incredible, an all caps JASMINE experience like nothing else I've smelled. Not particularly indolic to my nose (at least not in the fecal sense), but it is somehow overwhelming; I'm not convinced I'm sensitive to indolic notes, though, so take that with a grain of salt.

There isn't much record of this stuff online, with a Fragrantica page with no written reviews (though all 4 ratings give it a perfect 5 stars) and this Basenotes page with a single brief review from 2010 (besides the much later review you're reading). In fact, the most I can find about it is a brief reference in a 2008 Now Smell This review of Serge Lutens' now-classic Sarrasins, which mentioned this fragrance in passing and subsequently inspired a bunch of interest in the comments. Robin of NST wrote: "If what you're looking for a big huge skanky jasmine, dark and possibly rather scary, you might try Norma Kamali's Jazmin. I described A La Nuit's top notes as "as close to being buried alive in flower petals as anything else I can think of", to which WinterWheat quite accurately commented in reply that Jazmin was possibly even more so — "...like having the petals crammed up your nostrils". It rivals Bruno Acampora's Jasmin for a jasmine that might be best left to the true jasmine fanatic. I found it overwhelming the first time I tried it several years back, now it seems just about right."

Anyhow, I have no idea how you'd track this down if you wanted to, given that it's been discontinued for ages and never seems to pop up on ebay. But if you somehow stumble upon it in your travels, grab it!

Memoirs of a Trespasser by Imaginary Authors

This one smells an awful lot like you'd expect based on the notes: smoked woods and vanilla, with a sweet and warm base thanks to the benzoin and ambrette. The guaiac note smells real, that gently smoky palo santo providing some outer contours to the cozy warmth. I've come to really enjoy this, but it is outstandingly strong--a little goes a long way.

Bentley for Men Absolute by Bentley

Car brand aside, Absolute for Men... absolutely lives up to the promise of its heavy, pitch black bottle. It's no surprise that the bottle is beautifully done, or that the ingredient quality and blending are surprisingly good, considering luxury glassmaker-turned-pseudo-niche-perfumers Lalique hold the license for Bentley fragrances. And this feels very much like a spiritual sibling to one of the better Lalique scents and another favorite of mine, Encre Noire a l'Extreme, what with the heavy dose of ISO E "cedar" and the resinous incense note, though Absolute lacks the dank mustiness of l'Extreme's heavy vetiver, and instead feels like a blackened swirl of scorched incense, smoldering spices, and a pile of dry wood just waiting for the bonfire.

In reality, Absolute is supposedly the resurrection of the long discontinued Gucci Pour Homme, also by Michel Almairac and featuring nearly identical notes. I haven't tried GPH and can't comment other than to say I love this scent for what it is.

The "pencil shaving" cedar note familiar from so many other ISO E-heavy scents is on full display here, and this might be the strongest I've ever encountered it - it's a bone dry, almost desiccated rendition of extreme woodiness. Fortunately, the pepper, ginger, and frankincense round this out with a subtle sweetness that emerges in the drydown and adds depth to what feels like it will be a linear ride. Instead, the aggressive darkness of the opening gradually softens. This is an EDP that wears pretty close to the skin and it's never loud, but the semi-sweet warmth at the heart of the scent persists quite well even as the dry wood burns away.

Supposedly there's an "oud" note here, and I suspect whatever proxy they're using is what reads to my nose like a light dose of cumin towards the top of the scent. I've seen a few fragrantica reviews mention it, but not everyone experiences the note the same way - to me it's not armpitty cumin, and it's not as sharp as something like Declaration. It just feels a bit scorched, like the first acrid puff of smoke when you light a stick of incense and blow out the flame. Probably not for everyone, very much for me.

Prolixe by Histoires de Parfums

For what it's worth: the notes listed on this page don't match HdP's description, nor do they match my impressions. This is how HdP describes Prolixe:
-------
woody; fem. & masc.
|| Filled with a wealth of details. - Ginger, Cardamom -
|| Revealing distraction and wandering. - Olibanum, Rose -
|| Excessive, exuberant. - Patchouli, Tobacco, Oud -

Main notes: Oliban, Rose, Tabacco

Ginger, Cardamom, Cinnamon… clothe and envelop us while Rose’s radiance, bolstered by Patchouli’s mysterious power and Oud’s obscure intensity, escalates into a great blaze, emitting wafts of Tobacco and Oliban.
-------

To my amateur nose, this is a rose/oud with a resonant frankincense heart note, some warm spices, and an almost boozy, dark gourmand note lurking in the base (guessing that's the tobacco?), which sweetens the pot and takes this outside my usual zone of experience. If it's tobacco I'm smelling, I'm not very good at recognizing it - I get the swirling incense and an almost lacquered rose note, but the gourmand bit is harder to pin down. Almost like taking a bite of semisweet dark chocolate cake soaked in rum. It's not my favorite of HdP's western oud scents (that'd be Fidelis), but it is very good, rather distinctive, and surprisingly easy to wear considering how hard it is to describe.

Allure Homme Sport Cologne by Chanel

Ah, citrus and celery, a combination as old as... wait, what? I have no idea what causes this otherwise lovely, ultra-fresh, citrus-forward cologne to have a distinct celery accord, but the nose smells what it smells. It seems not everyone picks up on this calorie-free green note, as no one else mentioned it below. Search around in the forums and the other review site, and you'll see sporadic mentions of the dread pirate celery invading the sanctity of an otherwise innocuous summer citrus frag. Oddly enough... I've come to love the celery, the way I came to love drinking V8 as a kid, despite its resemblance to soup. It lends a slightly herbal, lightly vegetal, and ultimately aromatic aspect to an otherwise simple citrus and white musk scent that would be virtually indistinguishable from Dior Homme Cologne without it.

And that's really what this is: a beautiful, reasonably natural smelling citrus top note over a white musk base, just like Dior Homme Cologne, Zara Vibrant Leather Summer, and any number of other scents in a similar mold (e.g., Mercedes Benz, Jimmy Choo, etc.). While Dior Homme Cologne seems like the default choice in this micro-genre — and I still love DHC for its iced-lemonade-over-clean-white-cotton ethereality — AHSC distinguishes itself through slightly better blending, more natural-smelling ingredients, and longevity than its designer competition, plus that herbal/vegetal accord, which is pretty mild and more of an aromatic twist than anything. Longevity is solid for this type of scent, maybe 6 hours of medium-to-light projection.

All in all, I really enjoy this for what it is. If you can learn to love the celery, it feels reasonably classic, almost old-fashioned, without feeling dated, all with the boosted performance of something much more modern due to the musk and whatever nearly-invisible base notes are added to extend its life for a few hours, all without intruding on the core citrus accord. Is it worth the asking price? Probably not, when Vibrant Leather Summer comes awfully close and costs 1/5 as much. (VLS also lasts longer than DHC and uses ginger for a lightly spicy twist, rather than the light aromatics in AHSC; all three are excellent, but VLS is the only one I'd consider a good value.) And yet, the Chanel is still the most interesting scent in this category, and it feels higher quality than the others, the way Chanel scents often do. Good stuff all around.

Private Label by Jovoy

Dark, brooding, gorgeous take on leather, vetiver, and patchouli. Those three notes are present from top to bottom, a dragon's breath concoction of near-total darkness. Certainly not for everyone, but I can't get enough of it. The vetiver in particular is outstanding - in the deep dry down, it turns into a nutty brown vetiver note that makes me think of a richer, much longer lasting take on Givenchy's classic Vetyver accord. Lovely stuff.

Comparisons to Gucci Guilty Absolute are appropriate, though Private Label lacks the shrieking bandaid/plastic note that makes GGA unwearable for some of us. (Not hating; I suspect it's a note sensitivity not everyone shares.) While I'd never say Private Label is easy to wear, and it's much stronger and more intense than GGA overall, its composition is better balanced and more to my taste. Different strokes.

Performance is pretty close to nuclear. A single spray lasts all day, gets in your clothes, survives a trip through the laundry, and might wake your neighbors at odd hours. It's clearly an oily, resinous scent; your skin will glisten after application, so apply carefully. Definitely not a work or date night scent, but that's half the fun.

Baldessarini Ultimate by Baldessarini

A bit of a peppery oddball, which opens rather sour and bracing but evolves into a nicely done woody patchouli. Thankfully the base doesn't turn into the typical synthetic amberwood bloat, though I assume similar ingredients are at play--just in sane proportions that don't induce seasickness like so many modern masculines at the designer level.

There is an interesting sour accord in here that felt immediately familiar--possibly a combination of citrus notes and vetiveryl acetate--as this reminded me of Escentric Molecules - Escentric 03, which is of course also created by Geza Schoen. They're not identical: Escentric 03 leans harder into vetiver instead of peppery patchouli, and Escentric feels more ethereal, slightly less woody, but similarly sour--but that accord is so distinct (very "Geza") that I don't need to own both.

I'm also picking up a slight similarity to Dior Homme 2020 in the way DH leans hard into an extremely sour / musk note. Personally, I find DH 2020 screechy and unwearable due to the intensely sour opening (probably some kind of note sensitivity on my part). Whatever note that is in DH also reminds me of the sour opening here, but Ultimate is blended much more deftly. Ultimate uses its combination of sour and piquant notes in much subtler fashion, piquing my interest with its rough edges, rather than bludgeoning the senses the way DH 2020 does. It's nice to see something I find unpleasant in another context handled to such interesting effect here.

All in all a solid masculine designer fragrance, well worth sampling. I'll pass on the full bottle and stick with Escentric 03, but I'm glad I tried it.

Égoïste / L'Égoïste by Chanel

Arguably a perfect scent, but clearly not for everyone. I sampled this on a whim, didn't know what to make of it at first, but wound up head over heels in love with it. I've now had a chance to compare a 2021 bottle with a deep vintage decant and have lots of thoughts. In short: vintage and modern revolve around the same heart notes but have almost unrecognizable top notes and a very different take on the sandalwood base; but each version has its each with advantages, and they're both among my favorite scents.

VINTAGE EGOISTE: I have a "vintage" decant that i can't date with precision, but I'm almost positive it's very early 90s. The decant opens with bright, almost photo-realistic tangerine and an almost nuclear-strength clove / carnation note (feels like a megadose of eugenol). It is intensely spicy, and the first few times I wore it I didn't know what to make of it. Quite challenging! But I've never smelled anything like it, and after my expectations adjusted, I'd start to crave that opening.

As the initial salvo fades, we segue to the heart with a beautiful rose, coriander, and rosewood accord, and the sharp clove softens to something closer to a non-foodie cinnamon note with a faint whiff of tobacco and mahogany. I always describe this as the scent of a cherished vintage guitar; like opening a vintage instrument case and taking out a well-maintained but heavily played late 60s Gibson; it's seen its share of smoky venues, but it's got a freshly oiled rosewood fingerboard and plays like a dream. A perfect sense memory wrapped up in a timeless "rosewood fingerboard" accord.

As it dries down even further, the vintage settles into one of the best sandalwood notes I've ever smelled. Dry, woody, rich... and padded out with ambrette seed and just a hint of vanilla. It's not particularly sweet or gourmand, but just rich enough cast the genuine mysore sandalwood with a radiant amber glow. From top to bottom, vintage Egoiste is distinctive at every stage. The opening is sharp, the heart is gorgeous, and the base is unreal; performance is solid, eventually settling into a lovely sandalwood skin scent that dies off after 8-10 hours.

MODERN EGOISTE: a lot has changed in 30 years! Mysore sandalwood is basically extinct for perfumerie purposes due to overharvesting, and I understand there are now heavy restrictions on key Egoiste ingredients like clove (eugenol), citrus (citral), and rose. What this means is that the modern version is by necessity quite different, particularly in the opening and deep dry down. But it still captures the heart of what makes Egoiste so distinctive, and in some ways the modern is easier to wear. I'll walk through the specific changes below.

The biggest change is probably the aggressive opening notes... which are no longer aggressive at all. The juicy tangerine is replaced with a vague citrus note; the clove and carnation are dialed waaaay back, to more of a light baking cinnamon. It's by no means quiet, but it lacks the intensity of the original. In some ways this makes for an easier wearing opening, but for anyone addicted to the explosive spiced tangerine of the original, it may feel a lot less exciting unless you struggled with the opening to begin with.

If you love the heart notes of the original Egoiste, the good news is that the modern version gets to them much faster and holds focus on that central rosewood accord for the vast majority of the wear. The rose now feels subdued, blended directly into the rosewood note. It's a bit flatter overall, but the heart note is still fantastic and absolutely the Egoiste we know and love. Not only does this central accord arrive much sooner, it now lasts much longer and persists well into the deep dry down.

Speaking of the base, the perfect mysore sandalwood note is sadly no more. Instead we get a very convincing captive sandalwood note, in line with the creamy sandalwood in the base of Bleu de Chanel Parfum and Sycomore EDP. I suspect there's some kind of synthetic amber molecules padding this out for better performance, but it's not at all an ambrox overdose (which I'm sensitive to any time it's dialed too high, such as in modern blue scents). The vanilla is also a bit more prominent than before. The result is an everlasting glowing sandalwood base that actually does a passing impersonation of the original, though it lacks the depth, even as it lasts quite a bit longer on my skin. Performance on the modern bottle is outstanding. A single spray goes for 10-12 hours. Two or three sprays goes all day and then some (my laundry pile is that much richer for it).

IN SUMMARY: the vintage feels like a work of art. Vibrant, strange, kaleidoscopic, and rich in ways that are hard to articulate until you've experienced it yourself. I'm now hoarding the remains of my decant, and at some point I'll need to pony up for a full vintage bottle even if it means eating vintage prices. It's just too good to pass up. The modern is still excellent, more versatile overall, better performing, and slightly easier to wear. It lacks some of the nuance and texture that makes the original so compelling, but it delivers the central Egoiste accord in spades and is absolutely worth the current Chanel prices. I wear the modern bottle more often, and at this point... I'd say it's worth owning a bottle of each to wear in different situations (and save the vintage for really special occasions). It's frankly amazing Chanel is still producing the modern version at all, given how different this is from most designer fragrances, and we should all keep buying it to ensure production never stops!

Santal / Sandalwood by Floris

I've come full circle on Santal. While it isn't what I expected, and it certainly isn't a high end "sandalwood" scent at all, I now find it incredibly wearable and versatile for what it is. What initially struck me as odd choices--sweet lavender mixed with bright spices over a creamy nutmeg/cedar/musk base with kind of a lazy nod towards a sandalwood accord--now strikes me as a quirky early 2000s designer scent I can wear anywhere. As I finish off a decant, I would very much like to hunt down a full bottle.

Most folks exploring this one 20 years after its release are probably here because it's so often recommended as the closest thing still in production to the much venerated, sadly discontinued Gucci Envy for Men, which of course goes for stupid prices these days. Alas, I've never smelled Envy and can't really comment. I was recommended Santal as a potential replacement for another discontinued unicorn: my old signature scent, L'Occitane Eau de Vetyver, which is also sometimes compared to Envy (and Carven Homme, also discontinued and stupidly expensive).

Let's be real: Santal barely has a vetiver note and it's not at all a direct replacement for my beloved L'Occitane. But the creamy nutmeg / cedar / synthmusk base does have some similarities to EdV's drydown. You'd never confuse the two, but they could easily fill a similar slot in your wardrobe. They're both easy to wear spiced woody scents, distinct from typical designer fare without feeling particularly challenging or niche, and they each have a pleasing warmth to the base without being overly sweet or cloying. There is a sandalwood note here, but it won't be enough to satisfy anyone seriously interested in sandalwood (Tam Dao this is not). In some ways it feels like a twice-removed cousin of Egoiste - easier to wear but less convincing overall, just a friendly blend of citrus and spice over warm woods with a hint of sweetness. (Egoiste is far better blended, but also warmer and sweeter overall).

As I've quested for a replacement to EdV, I've come to realize there was a distinct trend of nutmeg/cedar scents from this era (roughly 1998-2005 or so). Santal fits in squarely with the others I've tried like Azzaro Visit (more focused on incense but with a very similar base) and Histoires de Parfums 1828 (more complex and weirder overall, with grapefruit, eucalyptus, and pine over a similar base). There are others from this era with similar creamy/spicy/woody base notes that I'm still hoping to try some day (things like Kenzo Jungle Homme, Jacomo Aura for Men, Calvin Klein Contradiction for Men, maybe even Penhaligon Endymion), as I suspect they all riff in the same general zone.

In any event, if you ignore the misleading name and approach Floris Santal as a creature of its time and more of a wearable everyman scent than a true sandalwood fragrance, there's a lot to love here. Performance isn't strong, but 3-4 sprays will get me through the day just fine, and I don't find myself going nose blind very easily. Recommended.

EDIT: make sure not to confuse Floris Santal, as in the version currently available from Floris, with the older Floris Sandalwood. They're completely different scents. The current is the warm/spicy scent described above, and what most people are reviewing on this page. Floris Sandalwood is an older English barbershop-style sandalwood soliflore, purportedly made from real Mysore sandalwood and not much else. Reminds me a bit of something like Crabtree & Evelyn's Sandalwood, but the mysore note is even nicer. It's unbelievably good but completely unattainable at this point, as it's been discontinued since at least the 90s and never shows up for sale. I was fortunate enough to get a partial bottle from a friend, and it's just incredible juice.

Hyde by Hiram Green

Dark, smoky leather with a faint combination of notes that slightly resembles charred meat. Perhaps not as scary as that sounds, this is a lovely fragrance for anyone in the mood for a reasonably strong, wall-of-scent dark leather. Performance is quite solid considering this is 100% natural. I've tried a few Hiram Green scents and generally find that most are either "unisex but weird" or "technically unisex but leaning feminine"; I'd put this in the former camp, and it actually seems to lean a bit masculine due to the barbecued leather aspect. I'm not sure how often I could wear this, but I really like it and would love a full bottle.

Vibrant Leather Summer by Zara

Fantastic summer fragrance at any price; at the going rate, it's an absolute steal. (Full price is $29.90 for 120 ml; bought mine on sale for $17.99; at the time of writing, it's on sale for $9.99.)

Here's some additional background, since the basenotes entry is pretty bare. To start, worth noting this is supposedly EDP strength, which might draw some skepticism considering this is Zara and citrus is not known for longevity, but there's something to it. The box identifies the perfumer as Jerome Epinette, and he gives a little blurb about capturing summery days while listing the following notes:

Top: mandarin, ginger
Middle: neroli, lotus
Base: blonde wood, ambroxan

Packaging is very high quality: box is nice and gives lots of details, and the bottle is a heavy chunk of smoothly rounded glass with a well-crafted, sturdy plastic cap... best of all the cap is magnetic and the atomizer is excellent. If it didn't say Zara on the bottle, you would think this is rather high-end. (Much nicer than my Guerlain Vetiver bottle that comes with the lame Habit Rouge-style square-shouldered bottle).

On to the juice: this is clearly a modern summer citrus in the same lane as Dior Homme Cologne (DHC) or Chanel Allure Homme Sport Cologne (CAHSC), i.e., a clean and pristine, minimalistic update to the classic EDC style, focused squarely on the citrus but with synthetically enhanced performance. I get why people call it a DHC clone, since they're similar enough to wear almost interchangeably. they fit the same mood and share certain aspects, but they're not identical.

For context, before getting my bottle of Vibrant Leather Summer (VLS), I had been casually questing for the ultimate summer citrus. Earlier this year I picked up decants of DHC and CAHSC as well as a few Atelier Cologne samples (Bergamote Soleil and Cedrat Envirant), so I've been able to directly compare them all and see where VLS fits in.

VLS has a slightly brighter, fizzier opening note than DHC. It's quite similar and still reminds me of bergamot, but the presence of ginger gives it a slightly rounder / spicier feel that might explain why it's presented as "mandarin". Whereas DHC has more of a "chilled lemonade" opening. VLS also feels a bit weightier, partially living up to the promise of an EDP; it hangs on the skin with more density than DHC, which feels almost ethereally light and wispy to me. In this sense, VLS reminds me more of CAHSC; that has a more complex citrus opening (perhaps lemon, lime, bergamot, and tangerine) but that sometimes gives off a faint celery note that's not at all present here. In terms of performance, I find CAHSC hangs around on my skin a bit longer than the others; VLS is closer to that but not quite as sustained; and DHC is very light and requires a heavy hand on the sprayer to last more than a few hours, and even then I need to reapply.

The heart of VLS has a touch of floral presence to my nose,, similar to CAHSC, plus a noticeable hit of ginger, which gives it it's own character. And the base of VLS does feel ever so slightly woody or even faintly vetiver-ish in a way that the others don't. DHC, by contrast, feels like a bright citrus note that fairly quickly transitions to the light white musk that accounts for most of the wear. I still like DHC a lot, but I think it's greatest strength is that it's the most minimalistic of all of these. It's a total distillation of the style, and you can give yourself a single spray and smell perfectly decent without alerting anyone to the fact you're wearing a fragrance. Both VLS and CAHSC have stronger projection and last longer, so I'm not sure either of these is truly interchangeable with DHC in that sense. Though of course all three are quite similar and I would happily wear any of them.

Directly compared to CAHSC, I find that scent has a bit more going on; more citrus constituent parts in the top note; more florals in the heart; and a slightly different dry down (that I'm not equipped to describe particularly well). I have found that one cloying if I spray too close to a workout; the sweat brings it to life and can make it a bit too intense. It also lasts very well, and has a high quality feel to the blend and performance that I tend to associate with Chanel fragrances. That said, the opening of CAHSC often smells like celery to me. I've never seen it described that way elsewhere, and I've come to like it more over time, but I ultimately prefer the simpler approach of DHC and VLS.

In terms of performance... 2 sprays feels quite powerful on me in terms of projection. (By contrast I usually apply 5 or 6 DHC sprays from my decant and 2 or 3 of CAHSC.) It lasts a decent time for this kind of citrus-forward scent, maybe a few hours of solid projection plus several more as a fairly present skin scent. I know Zara fragrances have a reputation for terrible performance and longevity, but I can confirm that's not the case here. It's not beastly, but great for a summer citrus. CAHSC doesn't project quite as strongly, but I find it lasts a bit longer in the drydown.

The important takeaway here: VLS is excellent for what it is. In some ways, it's arguably better than DHC and CAHSC, depending what you're looking for. As a daily summer scent, it's fantastic and easily at the level of quality of Dior and Chanel, which is absolutely insane considering you can buy 4 oz of this stuff for $10 plus shipping. I assume that also means they're fully discontinuing it, because that's how the world works. If you already know you like DHC or CAHSC, or just want a good summer citrus, I would say this is blind buy worthy considering the blowout pricing.

Epilogue: rumor has it this is identical to Zara's other offerings, From Paris to New York and Vibrant Leather Cologne. (Vibrant Leather Cologne is still available for $29.90.) I haven't tried those and cannot confirm. There are apparently also similarities to an older Zara fragrance, Blue Hole. Again, I can't confirm. But I'm impressed enough with the quality here that I'll be curious to explore other Zara scents.