Intense white floral and orange blossom explosion. The purpose of this must be to highlight the petitgrain, which is does, but it is so floral, so lacking in some darker ingredient to offset this, that it becomes both wearing and a little nauseating. There's a very mild dusting of cinnamon in there, but it's barely detectable, so it doesn’t do what I imagine it is supposed to do, which is offset that shrill white note.
It becomes more tolerable in the drydown, but I still can't say I like it much.
Antoine Lie's created some of my very favourite fragrances, but this one's a real miss for me.
Legendary cheapo creation from Nathalie Lorson, who is very accomplished at making a very few, inexpensive ingredients go a long way (Encre Noir is another one of her works).
What you get here isn't in any way radical. It's a boozy, sweet wood-floral-incense combo. But it's very well executed, and smells pretty much what you would expect an owner of a Bentley to smell like: wealthy, well turned-out, kind of classy, mature, perhaps a little conservative in outlook. In actuality, they'd probably be wearing bloody Sauvage, but this is an infinitely more preferable option, scent-wise.
Night time in the desert. You're crouched in front of a burning fire, wrapped in a goatskin blanket, drinking coffee. A camel has just taken a dump alongside you but you have an allergy to camels and it has dulled your sense of smell.
Agreeable, mildly woody, mildly leathery, mildy spiced scent that wafts away pleasantly in the background without being either offensive or intoxicating. There's a note of oud, artificial, I'm certain, but a closer approximation of the real thing than a lot of artificial ouds on offer. There are much worse offerings in this style out there, but much better too. I'll happily use up the little sample bottle I have, then will probably never think of it again.
Some perfumes just smell nice (or otherwise). Some evoke particular emotions or associations. And some conjure up very concrete, very definite images. Nouvolari belongs in this last category.
I had no idea who Nouvolari was before reading the blurb about this release (he was a racing driver), but even without that information, it would be easy to picture the scene. This smells of petrol and tarmac, of oily grease and metal, of fumes and sweat and smoke and leather. Mixed in amongst this is a sizeable dose of spearmint, and sparse citrus and rose.
This is the sort of scent that shines outdoors on a cold, still, crisp winter's day. It still smells pretty amazing as an indoor scent, or on cooler days. I would imagine this wouldn't appeal to everyone, it's not a crowd pleaser, but it is incredibly evocative. I loved it, and it proved absolutely worthy of a subsequent full bottle buy.
Aromatic tea steam top with powdered periwinking lily, dry incense dust, Hibiscus wine and crisp paper precisely folded. Play of arrid and wet. Flower musk. Lavender dyed orris rhizome. A confusion of bloom-scented cosmetics.
Not having known the original I must say I absolutely love this one. Very dry, almost desert like. There are florals here which are just under the radar but gorgeous all the same. I pick up a petrol note which is understated but sexy. Cumin is very prevalent in the dry down and super attractive as well. Leather is new. Feels like it may be tannic as well.
Cedar soda with juniper bitters. Water drawn from a limestone well surrounded by briar and bramble, thicket and thorn. Aerated ice chips that shatter between molars. A single cypress cone crushed between fingers. Cigarette ash that never quite made it to the tray. The condensation ring left on wood that won't ever completely fade. Cold metal keys pressed against warm lips. The sharp intake of breath when the cosmic chords of Alice Coltrane's harp arpeggios cascade through space, suspending time. Morning sky like a scrim of quartz; a little light, just enough to see by
Very green, a little sweet, aromatic and aquatic.
Bright with ginger and citrus, and warm with woods and balsams.
A solid every day.
I consider Bel Ami Vetiver to be the best flanker of all time. With that in mind this is probably the second best of all time. I know JCE has a long and distinguished history and even at Hermes his greatest achievement will probably go down as TdH, but, for my money I would (and do) wear BMV and this more often as I consider them to be his best work at Hermes.
Here he took a true 70's masterpiece of a man's scent in Equipage and without destroying the underlying notes was able to snap it in to modern day. In simplest terms I smell a manly floral topping mixed with light spice overlying the traditional equipage powering along in the back ground. I know from reading the notes break down this is geranium (maybe a slight rose) and clove, however, to my nose I may not pick out each individual note but get the overall affect of it.
I am glad I have a bottle. I wouldn't mind picking up a second one. That said, these days this goes for crazy money if you can even find one, but, if you do you won't be disappointed.
Warm, dark, a little green with subtle woods. The Ambroxan note is rich and deep and slightly animalic with balsamic smoothness. Don't get much of the orange but there is a little bright sweetness so I'll guess it's that.
It's not just as creamy as grand soir, and a little spicier, but if you're into GS you'll like this.
This is a very strong floral sent. Personally I love it but it does lean a little feminine due to it only being a floral heavy scent. It’s definitely a spring time scent and nothing else. It reminds me a lot of naxos by xerjoff just without the tobacco note. To be honest it’s a beautiful scent and I highly recommend it. Not worth the price of it though so please go buy it from a discounter.
Amazing fragrance. Absolutely love this, the blackcurrant and grapefruit off the top are so good, with the smokiness coming through, just wow.
This is so smooth, the pineapple is lovely, it lasts longer than Aventus does on me and it such a good price.
Insider Parfums are a great brand, love what they do.
I haven't smelt the original that this is based on (as its doliscontonued and only available if you are lucky enough to have massive disposable income).
This is a classic aromatic, the greens in this are amazing it lasts, it's punchy and it is amazing.
This fragrance to me is a testament that you should test your fragrances on multiple days in differant seasons. I had dismissed it after testing it in winter and then sprayed it on on a mild rainy spring day And fell in love with it. It immediately transported me to a rainy May spring day when all the irises were blooming at my local post office. The Sun was out after a downpour.. This perfume is the smell of those irises covered in rain drops. Slightly ozonic, fresh and sunny but watery and delicate because of the lily of the valley, but also slightly rooty. The beginning smells more like the petals and gets muskier and woodier as it progresses all the while maintains the delicate feeling. The ylang is not very noticeable but I guess is there to support the orange blossom to my nose or could be the jasmine which goes a bit soapy. It’s perfect for spring and summer. I will be getting a bottle soon.
Was an impulse buy when I was searching for another one from the brand. I love the opening and middle notes from the unknown fruit, so good. Unfortunately it only lasts an hour and dries into an unremarkable powdery lavender scent. I love the opening enough to reach for it and usually reapply or layer it.
Wow, turned up today after ordering at the weekend and this is so so green!
I absolutely love this and the use of real oakmoss, not in line with IFRA (I know, it's not the be all and end all), this is so reminiscent of an old school fougere, it is amazing.
Love the woodiness, the pine really comes through with the citrus and the fir is sublime. This is so well blended it hurts. Manuel Cross has created a modern masterpiece and this is one that will be used sparringly in my collection!
This is a fragrance that reminds me of finding the perfect vintage vanity set at an estate sale—immaculate crystal bottles and silver-backed brushes arranged just so—but when you lean closer, you notice someone has etched a razor-sharp critic's observation into the mirror's edge. It's not vandalism exactly, but a deliberate counterpoint to all that polish.
It carries itself with immaculate poise but sidesteps the accommodating softness we often expect from classic perfumery. Intensely sharp and dry and green, with an earthy, rootsy powderiness that feels pulled from some garden's underground mysteries. There's an acrid verdancy about it that reminds me of stumbling across a line from a Margaret Atwood poem or a Patti Smith lyric etched into pristine bathroom tile - the juxtaposition feels ridiculous considering we're talking about a Chanel perfume, but that's genuinely how it makes me feel. Alongside this runs what I can only describe as a leathery, grassy woodiness that makes me think of expensive boots walking purposefully through wild gardens.
That sour metallic tang and bitter effervescence feels unmistakably vintage to me, though I couldn't tell you exactly why. But what keeps drawing me back isn't just this quality—it's how the scent seems to subvert its own refined elegance with what I can only call a punky funk. Like costume jewelry that's outlived its original owner—slightly tarnished, impossibly elegant, carrying what feels like decades of stories. The fragrance exists in what I experience as a kind of gloomy luminosity, like sunlight filtering through grimy stained glass onto marble floors—both austere and achingly tender at once. It shifts on skin throughout the day, revealing facets that appear and recede like carefully guarded confidences. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of moss-covered stone steps leading to a garden where everything useful grows—medicinal herbs, not decorative flowers. Other times, it morphs into something mineral and cool, like running your fingers along marble that's been sitting in shadow. Its most fascinating moments come when warmth breaks through all that greenness—not a golden warmth, but something more like the heat signature of intellectual fervor, the temperature of thoughts running too quick and deep to share casually.
At first wear, I mistook this scent for a riddle I couldn't reconcile—sharp yet powdery, I couldn't wrap my head around it. Over time, I've come to understand it as a secret history of deliberate contradiction and precise nonconformity—crisp, clear, uncompromising yet undeniably intimate. The vintage vanity set isn't just beautiful; it belonged to someone who carved her thoughts into surfaces never meant to be marked. The metallic tang smells like the tip of a brass pen that's signed verdicts and villanelles with equal gravity. When I wear No. 19 now, I no longer search for resolution to its riddle—I simply appreciate the clarity of its question.
Gets compared to Acqua di Parma Colonia a lot, and I can see what people mean on that because, wonders never cease, I actually own a bottle of Colonia, so I’ve compared them, and there ARE a lot of similarities. The Ferrari is a lot brighter because of the nutmeg and ginger though which gives the bergamot a candied kind of feel, and it performs better, which isn’t to say it’s great, it’s just better than the Four Hours Tops I get from the Parma, and also it just generally smells less like a urinal cake than Colonia does. I’m not saying I don’t like that one because I do, it just has the aura of a public toilet about it.
I can’t believe I just wrote “THE AURA OF A PUBLIC TOILET” in a perfume review. I don’t know who I am anymore.
There are no fragrances I'm aware of that are able to replicate the scent profile of Carlisle. This is a wonderfully unique fragrance that mixes the earthiness of patchouli with a blend of oriental spices. Though this claims to be a unisex fragrance, it comes off very masculine in my opinion. A powerful scent, this is one that you can get away with 4-6 sprays, while still getting the longevity out of the fragrance. The only issue I have with Carlisle is the price tag. As a premier blend, it is rarely found on sale through discounters.
Expired cherry vicodin lollipop, medicinally musky, poisoned madeleines. Having tea with the women in Arsenic & Old Lace. China set cautiously onto age-stained doily turning brown at the crochet edges.
A fresh kind of green jasmine. A little sexy. It’s gorgeous and I love it. It’s a very true jasmine.
I don’t normally talk about the individual ratings I give these things but before I do anything else I feel like I need to this time, because I gave the presentation a three, because I DO think the bottles on these look handsome, and especially this one because the green look is lovely, but this is the second time I’ve bought a FOMO where the cap isn’t worth a damn when you try picking it up by it, and on top of that the paint on it has started coming off IN LITERAL CLUMPS. If you go through my reviews you’ll see I mostly collect on the affordable end of the spectrum but even I’ll say, in some ways you really DO get what you bloody paid for.
At the risk of sounding really pretentious, when I first sprayed this one, I got a bit emotional. I asked for a 50ml for Christmas years ago, but really I was much too young for it because I treated it with zero respect. I oversprayed it, I wore it out of season, I wore doing everything and anything, and obviously eventually I ran out of it, and then when o asked for it again I found out it was discontinued, which at the time I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WAS A THING THAT COULD HAPPEN, which made me really sad. Then years later when I realised I was collecting this stuff I decided to look up what it was going for secondhand, saw THOSE prices, and decided I was probably never going to own a bottle of it ever again, which made me even sadder.
So it goes without saying that when I saw news about FOMO’S upcoming release and how they weren’t even being slightly coy about what they were cloning, I got UNREASONABLY overjoyed, and then when it arrived, like I’ve already said, it hit me in my feels immediately because it smelled exactly how I remembered it and a bunch of good memories came flooding back. If anything it smells A BIT BETTER than I remembered because it’s definitely stronger and more full-bodied than the bottle I had, which makes sense because I got my bottle on the cusp of it going away and it had been reformulated at least once before that.
I read a review of the original in GQ Magazine back in the day (yes I subscribed to GQ when I was a teenager, don’t look at me like that, nobody here is strictly normal are they?), and the guy writing about it said it smelled like “wet leather driving gloves,” which is a VERY poncy GQ way of describing a perfume, but at the same time I get where he was coming from, because there there’s definitely a damp quality to this, musty in a clean, green way. It’s weird because apparently there’s no leather in it, and I think they’d say if there was because this one’s got something like 33,000 notes listed, but I think it might me the citruses and the florals coming together not accidentally make a bit of a leather accord, especially the grapefruit and the rose of I had to guess. It’s classy but also a bit rugged which I’m drawn to, which is hilarious because if you ask me I’m neither of those things. Wear this one’s time with a suit and colour other than black or grey on a
Can I...? Yes, Yes, You can.
Super masculine while staying non-offensive.
This line is definitely under-rated!
