My father regularly listened to Radio Moscow. He was not a communist, not a spy for the Soviet Union, not even a social democrat, but rather moderately conservative. My father, from the people of the perpetrators, was simply also a victim of wartime, having just turned 18 when he was sent off to war as a last reserve, and after a few months at the front in Russia, he was taken prisoner - and there he was fortunate that a Russian officer was looking for a young man from whom he could learn the German language. In return, my father learned Russian from this officer, so he was able to understand and speak the language quite well. This made him an exotic figure in the so-called FRG of the 60s, when I finally came into the world.
My birth year (1967) is also the birth year of Russian Leather. So we have quite a bit in common. And for as long as I can remember, there was a bottle of Russian Leather aftershave by Farina Gegenüber in our bathroom, always a gift from an aunt from Cologne, who always ensured a supply of this cologne. It was probably the first scent I consciously perceived, but certainly the first men's fragrance I knew.
It was a matter of honor that I needed a new bottle of Russian Leather when Farina Gegenüber (fully and correctly: Johann Maria Farina gegenüber dem Jülichs-Platz GmbH; now that's a brand name!) was resurrected and also relaunched its men's fragrance Russian Leather, unfortunately in a new bottle that, while elegant and simple, cannot compete with the original opal glass bottle, which is sensibly depicted here on Parfumo. An art object of product design from the 60s. For this reason, I had already purchased a used original bottle years ago, which, although its contents no longer smell entirely authentic, serves as a keepsake far better than the new, pleasingly clear bottle.
Farina Gegenüber is essentially the oldest fragrance brand in the world (since 1709); older brands are at best legendary or at least uncertainly documented, while some younger brands have a longer history because they have continuously existed to this day (like Floris), but Farina Gegenüber can proudly remind us that it has been producing, distributing, and shipping fragrances in Cologne since 1709. The exact history of this house can be read in detail on the homepage, can be traced in the fragrance museum of the Farina family in Cologne, and is found on various websites, so I will spare further details here.
But how does Russian Leather smell, which, as already mentioned, was launched in 1967?
Russian Leather belongs in the context of men's fragrance waters and aftershaves that were developed in the 50s and 60s in Germany (and partly in other countries like Italy, Spain, and Japan, less so in France and England) and suggest a smoky-leathery, thus masculine note in image and name, but in reality smell rather fresh-woody. A probably well-known example is Tabac original, which also starts fresh, slightly citrusy with bergamot and lemon, and then transitions through some floral notes to a woody and eventually even soft base note. So does Russian Leather.
A true leather scent like Patou pour Homme or Knize Ten, especially the latter also being a classic (1925), smells completely different, heavier, more opulent, softer, and thus seems anything but suitable for a rugged man of the 60s. Certainly, it was an elite that already had Knize Ten, perhaps the most significant men's fragrance of all time, in their wardrobe; for most, it would have been Russian Leather or Tabac original - or one of the affordable classics from America, Italy, or Spain, in the rarest case a pricey French scent (like Chanel pour Monsieur, Dior Eau Sauvage, or Caron pour un homme).
Russian Leather is thus anything but spectacular, as that was simply not desired, but rather a blend of prominence (understood here as masculinity) and freshness (this too is an attribute of men's fragrances, not just of that time, in contrast to classically floral and soft women's fragrances). One does not have to like or even praise it, but it is nice, simply nice, and somehow always wearable. And the fact that the blend contained in Russian Leather seems to be contagious, attractive, stimulating, is shown by the currently high average rating, which would catapult the fragrance into the TOP 100 if only there were enough recorded reviews for this scent.
My comment can also be understood as a plea to at least test this more elegant, perhaps better brother of Tabac original and give it a chance, even if it no longer makes women swoon these days, but can still be a good companion in the office and in everyday life.
It deserves it.
Dedicated to my father (1926 - 1994).