Phileas Nina Ricci 1984 Eau de Toilette

This screams masculinity through and through. The greeny pine together with the leather and oakmoss take center stage after a couple hrs. Longevity is fine but could be better. I always carry a decant. It's no longer in production so the price for a full bottle will be significant but it's worth every penny. Wish they still made fragrances like this nowadays but sadly they don't. One of my faves for sure

Duftstick is a fan of vintages, and I owe him some of my experience with this class of perfumes. Personally, I do not want to commit myself to vintages so much. Every time has its great fragrances, but of course, there are gems to discover.

Phileas by Nina Ricci really is a fragrance of the past – one of the kind that can hardly be found nowadays. It cannot easily be described with so many notes in the pyramid. I would regard Phileas as a neighbor to the vintage Trussardi Uomo – and so it is a variant of a leather chypre. Especially in the head notes the reminiscence of that well known Italian is evident.

Actually, Phileas is not a beautiful fragrance. Close to the skin, the smell is sharp and rather unpleasant. Phileas is ignorant for today’s habit of smelling perfume directly on the spot where it was applied. This macho does not have in mind his own pleasure; he is up to something else. With his strong sillage, Phileas marks his precinct and tells everybody he’s there. This justifies a big cloud of fume!

The attitude Phileas expresses is quite clever: the fragrant cloud contains lots of soapy musk – as much as is needed to pretend that its wearer has just stepped out of the shower. This could be quite boring, if not the rest of all the spicy, leathery and other notes connived to let Phileas look anything but neat and clean.

Look at me, Phileas seems to tell us, of course I am concerned about body hygiene – but no matter how long I extend my showers – my male glands will immediately start producing that really butch smell again! - Hm, this attitude may have worked out well several decades ago but I am really glad these times are over.

Without any doubt, Phileas is brilliant since it hits this macho attitude right on the spot. But I think it was already outdated when released in 1984. The perfume industry has never been good in keeping up pace with the changes in our western societies.

An open shirt revealing lots of greyish chest hair, and a moustache – will that ever come back again?

I suppose if you mix bergamot, lemon and green notes with juniper, it -could- approximate to lime.

I say ‘approximate to lime’; and for that, dihydromyrcenol would come in handy, which Good Scents describes as : fresh, citrus, lime, floral, clean, cologne, and weedy.

It sounds like a general description of Phileas to me – minus the dry woods, evergreens and dark leather base.

But - wait a minute - Phileas appeared in 1984, did dihydro exist back then? Yes, a patent for ‘the preparation of dihydromyrcenol’ was granted at Houston, Texas to the Shell Oil Company in 1981. [Wikipedia]

‘An approximation to lime with woody, green, and mossy-leather notes’ Phileas could suit those who are want a lime scent that sticks around longer than a Mayfly; but of course, if a lime cologne did go on for ages it might well feel a bit linear, and lack depth or complexity.

Which is basically what you’ve got here; a rather linear, lime smelling thing with evergreens and a woody-leather base; or if you like, a drawn out woody-lime cologne.
As always, put it on cloth to spin out the head notes.

Phileas is a superbly dry, green and rugged masculine: sharp juniper and pine over spices, leather, tobacco and a beautifully mossy base. There is something windswept and outdoorsy about it: earthy, slightly bitter and unapologetically old-school, yet remarkably refined. A forgotten 1980s gem with real character.

Phileas ("FIL" + "ee" + "uhs", as in Phileas Fogg of Jules Verne's 1873 novel "Around the World in 80 Days", note the fabled balloon on the box) begins with a Campari aperitif tartness coupled with the most heavenly juniper berry I've ever experienced in a fragrance, piney-piquant, mushroomy-cool, crisp-cool-breeze bright. There is also the suggestion of lime to my nose—so invigorating and enduring. It grows more wormwood-like and coniferous and dense as the top notes descend, green sticky resins, and a pine straw tawny underline. Then comes impressions of celery seed, a spiced melange and dried rustic herbs: more vigor! Furthermore, I am reminded of the aroma of crushed cypress needles.

Its vegetal and evergreen qualities are reined in by labdanum and vetiver, rendering Phileas dirtier and earthier, echoing that of Yatagan and Devin, yet with Phileas, there is further suspense. It smells like a foggy damp forest floor after a long rain, the saturation, the foliage and mud. It traverses through dry to wet and sharp to round in the course of its development. It really does achieve the effect of Phileas' journey: but none of it is too pretty and elemental. What a concept that was destined for commercial failure but has won the hearts of diehard fragrance enthusiasts. It was produced only until the 90s and one must either spend a great deal for any sizable quantity or wait, and wait, and wait, for that one phenomenal deal to surface, and then snatch it with an accelerated heartbeat.