Sandringham Crown Perfumery 1873
19
Very helpful Review
A Poison!
Profumo presented me with a certain problem by sending me the sample of Sandringham. For I had actually decided to steer clear of the perfumes from Crown Perfumery. The perfumes of this brand have all been discontinued - presumably because they no longer comply with legal regulations and contain prohibited ingredients. With a bit of luck, one can still find some remnants here and there.
Most often, the IFRA regulations are viewed critically on Parfumo, and their purpose is doubted. Since my tests of Crown Fougère and especially Buckingham, I see it differently. I think it was Buckingham that landed me in the hospital for a day - allergic reactions can be quite severe. I suspect real oak moss as the culprit.
Therefore, a clear warning to all readers: Crown Perfumery is harmful to health!
There are thousands of great perfumes. Spraying oneself with such stuff is irresponsible and unreasonable - but on the other hand: being reasonable is also boring! So I took another risk...
...and I find it all the more annoying that Sandringham turns out to be perhaps the best chypre perfume I have ever encountered. Rarely have I found such class and complexity in a men's fragrance.
I really like chypres, especially the characteristic dark-bitter base of labdanum, oak moss, and possibly patchouli. In addition to this wonderful base note, a "real" chypre requires a three-tier structure: with citrus top notes and floral heart notes. Subtle flowers give a men's chypre its individual character - especially in the middle part, the perfumer must demonstrate taste and class. The flowers must not appear indecent but still radiate considerable depth. In my opinion, the floral heart is successful when it contains a certain complexity. A clearly identifiable rose, for example, would rob the fragrance of its mystery, making it ordinary and interchangeable.
What the citrus top note in the chypre structure is supposed to do, I have - until now - not understood. Often it simply seems to be slapped on. A particularly bad example would be the otherwise excellently made Chanel pour Monsieur. There, the lemon is so brutal for half an hour that you can't smell anything else before the perfume suddenly changes character and becomes beautiful.
Sandringham is the first men's chypre to which I attribute an independent value to the citrus top note. The above notes also indicate the rare case of vanilla as a top note. With a dialogue of subtle citrus notes and vanilla against a woody background that is already perceptible, we are almost casually offered an entrée that constitutes the main theme, the substance of the perfume, as seen in the new Arsène Lupin Voyoou by Guerlain. The vanilla is masterfully subtle. Any fears of vanilla-oriental opulence prove to be unfounded.
But then comes the irritation. Instead of straightforwardly progressing through flowers to the typical chypre base, woody notes now come to the forefront and temporarily change the character. One wonders, is this still a chypre? Yes, it is, but Sandringham has indeed been developed in different directions, and not just in the woody one. It should already be clear: Sandringham is not a simple lentil dish, but the arranged aroma explosion of a top chef.
There is a bit of back and forth, then the chypre character again prevails over the woods. The floral components are as required above. Lily of the valley is already rare, and the floral aspects do not exhaust themselves in the coolness of this single note.
After a while, a strange picture emerged. Sandringham became somewhat earthy. For a time, I had the olfactory association of rain-soaked sand - a childhood memory!
That was still far from everything! A vague herbal aspect was added. That Sandringham would now also develop fougère qualities was almost to be expected. But suddenly I recognized it: tarragon! And not only that - through tarragon, a bridge developed for me to one of the formerly best and most characterful men's perfumes - I mean Givenchy's Gentleman. What a great fragrance it was before it was muddled by reformulation! Givenchy darkened it with incense-like notes, which completely missed the mark. Givenchy transformed the arrogant, blasé dandy into a stubbly taxi driver with a migration background - unfortunately without renaming the fragrance in a coherent way.
But in Sandringham, it becomes clear that this gentleman note - present here in traces - can indeed be "darkened," namely through a chypre base!
Ultimately, plenty of musk comes into play. Not exclusively the often horridly depicted "White Musk," but a variant that I perceive as rather masculine and archaic. There is a bit of soapiness, but much more restrained than, for example, in Yves Saint Laurent's chypre fragrance "Pour Homme."
However, the subtle soapiness builds another bridge - namely to the fragrance character that we refer to as the English barber shop style. Here, the fragrance development finds its conclusion and determination - in the end, Sandringham clearly points to English perfume tradition.
It's great what Sandringham has to offer. Of course, one can and should enjoy such a perfume primarily - not just analyze it. With Sandringham, one surrounds oneself with a fragrance that I perceive as noble, masculine, and in the best sense conservative - an exceedingly pleasant and solid affair.
But where to get it? I would doubt the above note that Anglia Perfumery has reissued this fragrance under another name. This brand does make good, but otherwise rather simple and affordable fragrances - I will look into it!
Most often, the IFRA regulations are viewed critically on Parfumo, and their purpose is doubted. Since my tests of Crown Fougère and especially Buckingham, I see it differently. I think it was Buckingham that landed me in the hospital for a day - allergic reactions can be quite severe. I suspect real oak moss as the culprit.
Therefore, a clear warning to all readers: Crown Perfumery is harmful to health!
There are thousands of great perfumes. Spraying oneself with such stuff is irresponsible and unreasonable - but on the other hand: being reasonable is also boring! So I took another risk...
...and I find it all the more annoying that Sandringham turns out to be perhaps the best chypre perfume I have ever encountered. Rarely have I found such class and complexity in a men's fragrance.
I really like chypres, especially the characteristic dark-bitter base of labdanum, oak moss, and possibly patchouli. In addition to this wonderful base note, a "real" chypre requires a three-tier structure: with citrus top notes and floral heart notes. Subtle flowers give a men's chypre its individual character - especially in the middle part, the perfumer must demonstrate taste and class. The flowers must not appear indecent but still radiate considerable depth. In my opinion, the floral heart is successful when it contains a certain complexity. A clearly identifiable rose, for example, would rob the fragrance of its mystery, making it ordinary and interchangeable.
What the citrus top note in the chypre structure is supposed to do, I have - until now - not understood. Often it simply seems to be slapped on. A particularly bad example would be the otherwise excellently made Chanel pour Monsieur. There, the lemon is so brutal for half an hour that you can't smell anything else before the perfume suddenly changes character and becomes beautiful.
Sandringham is the first men's chypre to which I attribute an independent value to the citrus top note. The above notes also indicate the rare case of vanilla as a top note. With a dialogue of subtle citrus notes and vanilla against a woody background that is already perceptible, we are almost casually offered an entrée that constitutes the main theme, the substance of the perfume, as seen in the new Arsène Lupin Voyoou by Guerlain. The vanilla is masterfully subtle. Any fears of vanilla-oriental opulence prove to be unfounded.
But then comes the irritation. Instead of straightforwardly progressing through flowers to the typical chypre base, woody notes now come to the forefront and temporarily change the character. One wonders, is this still a chypre? Yes, it is, but Sandringham has indeed been developed in different directions, and not just in the woody one. It should already be clear: Sandringham is not a simple lentil dish, but the arranged aroma explosion of a top chef.
There is a bit of back and forth, then the chypre character again prevails over the woods. The floral components are as required above. Lily of the valley is already rare, and the floral aspects do not exhaust themselves in the coolness of this single note.
After a while, a strange picture emerged. Sandringham became somewhat earthy. For a time, I had the olfactory association of rain-soaked sand - a childhood memory!
That was still far from everything! A vague herbal aspect was added. That Sandringham would now also develop fougère qualities was almost to be expected. But suddenly I recognized it: tarragon! And not only that - through tarragon, a bridge developed for me to one of the formerly best and most characterful men's perfumes - I mean Givenchy's Gentleman. What a great fragrance it was before it was muddled by reformulation! Givenchy darkened it with incense-like notes, which completely missed the mark. Givenchy transformed the arrogant, blasé dandy into a stubbly taxi driver with a migration background - unfortunately without renaming the fragrance in a coherent way.
But in Sandringham, it becomes clear that this gentleman note - present here in traces - can indeed be "darkened," namely through a chypre base!
Ultimately, plenty of musk comes into play. Not exclusively the often horridly depicted "White Musk," but a variant that I perceive as rather masculine and archaic. There is a bit of soapiness, but much more restrained than, for example, in Yves Saint Laurent's chypre fragrance "Pour Homme."
However, the subtle soapiness builds another bridge - namely to the fragrance character that we refer to as the English barber shop style. Here, the fragrance development finds its conclusion and determination - in the end, Sandringham clearly points to English perfume tradition.
It's great what Sandringham has to offer. Of course, one can and should enjoy such a perfume primarily - not just analyze it. With Sandringham, one surrounds oneself with a fragrance that I perceive as noble, masculine, and in the best sense conservative - an exceedingly pleasant and solid affair.
But where to get it? I would doubt the above note that Anglia Perfumery has reissued this fragrance under another name. This brand does make good, but otherwise rather simple and affordable fragrances - I will look into it!
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3 Comments
I'm glad you like the scent!