Vodka on the Rocks is one of those fragrance names which fills you with excitement initially, there’s a saturation of boozy fragrances on the market currently, but not so much for the more refreshing spirits. Unfortunately this scent leaves much to be desired, it takes a step into the right direction before letting itself down rather dramatically. It cannot be ignored that this is simply Kilian’s rendition of the A&F Fierce DNA - it’s that instantly recognisable soapy-clean, teenage shower gel sort of thing. It’s pleasant, but there’s no element of creativity, originality or interest here; you might as well just buy Fierce. There is zero relation to vodka. It’s disappointing when niche houses which have made some incredible and original fragrances stoop to such a low level of stealing a cheap, tried and true scent profile just to boost sales. As I said this smells pretty good, but it’s the principle I don’t like.

Must de Cartier is one of the crowning jewels for the house, one of the great classics which will forever command love and respect. There’s something so effortlessly comforting about this scent, it transports you to a realm free of worry and concern - until you take your nose away from your wrist. Jean-Jacques Diener used Shalimar as a principle structure for this release, particularly with the use of the vanilla here. It’s incredibly smooth, the vanilla, tonka and Sandalwood create this creamy, almost buttery and flowy effect, elevated by the delicate warmth of rosewood and carnation. It’s got a bit of a bite to it as well however, galbanum and leather take pride in disturbing what you thought would be a boring scent. It’s gorgeous, I love it. So incredibly elegant and refined, this is a scent which demands smart clothing in a sophisticated environment. But at the same time, it remains perfectly polite and understated - like a person who effortlessly glides through the room, capturing the attention of everyone around them without even saying a word.

Le Temps de Reines is a fragrance I’m not too familiar with, both scent-wise but also in regards to its history. It’s a very pleasantly warm and smooth woody scent, slightly powdery, slightly spicy with gentle earthy facets. It’s bordering on beautiful actually, but I’m not sure I love it. Sandalwood reigns supreme in this composition; with its delicate creamy, powdery facets providing and endlessly smooth base for the other notes to linger on top of. The crimson warmth of geranium alongside a touch of warm spices creates an alluring backdrop against a very subtle patchouli. It’s rich, deep and intensely creamy - almost buttery. This is one of those fragrances which are so profoundly smooth that you’ll either adore it or dismiss it. The smooth buttery nature of this scent is gorgeous, but for me it’s lacking a bit of oomph to really make it a love for me - I think it plays it a bit safe if I’m honest. Smells great though.

Feminite du Bois, Christopher Sheldrake’s masterpiece for Shiseido before becoming an icon of Serge Lutens. A revolutionary use of cedarwood, creating one of the most deliciously enveloping scent profiles on the market today. There’s not a huge amount of difference between this and the Serge Lutens version, to my nose at least, other than the fact that this is noticeably gentler, smoother and a touch soapier. The Serge is bold and brash in its overdose of cedarwood, juicy plums and warm spices - they slap you round the face and don’t let up (in a good way), whereas the Shiseido is toned down; spicier and warmer, more of a skin scent if anything. People often go manic trying to get their hands on the ‘original’ formulation/edition of a perfume, but this is one of those rare cases where I think the follow-up was an improvement. The current Féminité is stronger, longer lasting and more indulgent whilst still retaining all of that glorious character.

I’ll be honest, I haven’t paid much attention to Maison Crivelli; I was disappointed by Oud Maracuja after all the hype that it just put me off exploring more. Cuir Infrarouge is a rather lovely raspberry leather scent however, which is bold of me to say considering I’m usually repulsed by raspberry notes. The raspberry here is notably sweet, juicy and crimson, as though they were crushed beneath the weight of a rugged suede boot. I suppose there is some inspiration from Tuscan Leather, but thankfully it seems to be politely balanced by cinnamon and a smooth, creamy finish of vanilla and orris. Despite being rather strong and diffusive, I find it’s rather restrained and sophisticated as far as raspberry-leathers go. I don’t love it enough to buy a bottle, but I’m pleasantly surprised with how much I like this more than I was expecting to.

Ambre Magique… is like a magic trick which has failed in front of a crowd of thousands. An embarrassing and defeating failure which doesn’t even warrant hate, but will just be forgotten instead. They must have forgotten to put an amber accord in here, for it is nowhere to be seen. Vanilla is present at least, it’s sweet and creamy and quite pleasant, actually. However it’s from here that problems arise - a warming cardamom is coupled with plasticky orange blossom and then worst of all: cachalox. Of course I don’t know what cachalox smells like in isolation, but it’s a pretty safe bet that it’s this material giving the scent this overall cheapness about it. It doesn’t smell warming, cosy or how you would expect an amber fragrance to smell at all. It just smells like a disinterested perfumer chucked together a load of synthetic wood molecules to create something which smells pleasant, but nothing else. The moment I take my nose away from my arm I’ve already forgotten what it smells like. Painfully boring.

RDHP20 is a fragrance which really shocked my nose the first time I smelled it, I really wasn’t expecting something like this. I initially discovered it at the launch event in Harrods back in June, but didn’t want to review it until I had a sample so I could give it a fair chance. It’s definitely a cousin of the original RDHP15, but goes in a much more contemporary direction. RDHP15 was all about the fuzzy peach and creamy oakmoss, with a definite focus on a traditional Chypre composition. With RDHP20, you’ve still got elements of the peach and the oakmoss, but it’s rhubarb which shouts the loudest. This rhubarb is intensely sweet, sharp and sour with a delicious jammy nature to it, coupled with an overdose of fizzy aldehydes to give it that iconic sparkling effect. Alongside this, an array of gentle florals and shiny woods lay down a path towards this gorgeous rhubarb garden, sparkling in the sunshine. It’s a lot brighter and sharper than 15, and whilst I do really enjoy this scent, 15 is far superior in every way to me personally. I think I much prefer the smoothed out creaminess, whereas this scent can be a bit too sharp if oversprayed. The only downside is that without a doubt this is a riff on Pierre de Velay Essence Rare, which has the exact same fizzy rhubarb note.

Overture Woman was a blind buy which really took me by surprise. It’s a fragrance I’ve really had to explore and spend time with to be able to fall in love with it, but I’m very glad I granted it that patience - I’m enjoying it more and more with every wear. I can however see why this could be a rather polarising scent, I myself sometimes wonder if I even like it at all, but always find myself back in the comfort of loving it. The most powerful note here is the apple - of course there is no raw material which comes from apple, and so a synthetic accord is the only option. Admittedly, it does smell noticeably synthetic and a little plasticky which can be off putting in the opening, this is what I struggled with. I had the same issue with Frederic Malle’s Promise when I first got that, I almost sold it after having it a week, but I gave it time and now I adore it - I sense the same is happening with this. This juicy, slightly rubbery apple rests on a bed of intensely dry sweetness. Spicy cinnamon and rugged leather combined with a touch of smoky, almost papery resins contrast the apple beautifully. This is perpetuated by an almost obnoxious overdose of sweet saffron, which can be headache inducing if smelled up close! I was expecting the brandy to be more prominent, but I actually find it rather subtle. Overall this is a gorgeously unique evening-wear fragrance, one I definitely recommend testing but probably not blind buying.

The combination of lavender and vanilla is one which has been consistently popular in the 21st century, which few manage to perfect. Chamomille Satin is the perfect example of a decent attempt, but falls short of what could have been an amazing scent. Unfortunately it comes off rather noticeably cheap and plasticky as many other lavender/vanilla fragrances do in the designer market. The vanilla is the nicest part about this fragrance: it’s sweet, creamy and smooth almost like a delicious vanilla custard. However when it’s combined with the aromatic, almost herbal notes of lavender, chamomile and petitgrain the contrast becomes quite rough and messy. There’s no real balance or harmony between the notes, it smells rather overcrowded. It’s pleasant, don’t get me wrong. It’s not a fragrance I feel repulsed by or inclined to wash it off, but it’s not something I would ever consider buying for the simple reason it smells too basic and far cheaper than it actually is. This is my first encounter with Dries Van Noten and so far I’m not very impressed.