Top Notes 
Marine notes
Grapefruit
Heart Notes 
Bay leaf
Jasmine
Base Notes 
Ambergris
Oakmoss
Patchouli
Gaiac wood
10/21/2014
GothicHeart
85 Reviews
GothicHeart
Helpful Review
7
Invictus beaten to a pulp...
Four figures enter the lab. One of them is Dominique Ropion. Dominique Ropion for chrissakes! He has created Ysatis... And Amarige... And Kenzo's Jungles... And Krazy Krizia...
He's surrounded by three other perfumers. They have not created anything near as legendary, partially because they're younger, but since they were chosen by the master, it can't be, they must be of some considerable worth and potential.
The perfume world is holding its breath.
And after what seems to be a strenuous effort in taming the extracts, the resins and the oils, an effort from which nothing less than a masterpiece should be expected, they give us...Invictus.
...
Really guys? No, I'm serious, really? Did this storm in a teacup really require the combined efforts of four to create it?
It's not a horrendous fragrance per se, but come on! I could make a better scent in an afternoon.
"But... But this marvellous blast of marine notes topped with delicious grapefruit and crowned with laurel..."
Yeah, right...
Believe me, I know of marine notes, I'm from Greece. These are not marine notes. This is a chemical mess! Not a single person who lives by the sea would perceive this cacophony as "marine".
And if the laurel was a hint about its ancient use of wreathing champions with it, it's unfortunately only the grapefruit's bitterness that leaves its aftertaste in the end. And I don't mean in olfactory terms...
And Invictus? For reals? Who were its opponents during its struggle to the title? Nothingness and complete incompetence? It wouldn't last a single round against any of the dudes of Paco Rabanne's glorious past. And I don't mean 1 Million, cause it wouldn't stand a chance against it either.
As for its bottle, unless it's a joke, it's kitsch redefined. It reminds me of something "Made in an Asian sweatshop" that could be found in a souvenir shop with "You are the champ!" written on it. Or a promotional table lighter on the desk of an underground car repair shop. Made in an Asian sweatshop as well.
Oh wait! Wasn't it Avon that paved the way for funny looking bottles? At least Avon bottles achieved a certain cult status over time, while this bloody poseur seems to really expect us to be stunned by its gravitas right from the start.
And to add insult to injury, three out of four noses did the same with Burberry's Brit Rhythm, another benchmark of mediocrity and "forgotten in a heartbeat" quality. In the same year! The whole thing reminds me of some travelling sideshow, blaring about the wonders you'll behold by entering its tent, but all you'll see by doing so, are some miserable fake monsters made of plaster and badly painted. I guess Veronique Nyberg had some dignity left, and jumped off the caravan before its downward spiral hit the bottom...
The only positive thing about it, is that it spares me the chore of writing a review for Burberry's Brit Rhythm (what an "inspired" name!), cause by simply reversing the names and subtracting Veronique Nyberg from this unholy equation, there, you have it already!
P.S.: I'm sure that some younger readers will go livid on me, but I'm afraid I can't stress enough how someone who has smelled Paco Rabanne pour Homme and Ténéré in their heyday feels about today's releases...
He's surrounded by three other perfumers. They have not created anything near as legendary, partially because they're younger, but since they were chosen by the master, it can't be, they must be of some considerable worth and potential.
The perfume world is holding its breath.
And after what seems to be a strenuous effort in taming the extracts, the resins and the oils, an effort from which nothing less than a masterpiece should be expected, they give us...Invictus.
...
Really guys? No, I'm serious, really? Did this storm in a teacup really require the combined efforts of four to create it?
It's not a horrendous fragrance per se, but come on! I could make a better scent in an afternoon.
"But... But this marvellous blast of marine notes topped with delicious grapefruit and crowned with laurel..."
Yeah, right...
Believe me, I know of marine notes, I'm from Greece. These are not marine notes. This is a chemical mess! Not a single person who lives by the sea would perceive this cacophony as "marine".
And if the laurel was a hint about its ancient use of wreathing champions with it, it's unfortunately only the grapefruit's bitterness that leaves its aftertaste in the end. And I don't mean in olfactory terms...
And Invictus? For reals? Who were its opponents during its struggle to the title? Nothingness and complete incompetence? It wouldn't last a single round against any of the dudes of Paco Rabanne's glorious past. And I don't mean 1 Million, cause it wouldn't stand a chance against it either.
As for its bottle, unless it's a joke, it's kitsch redefined. It reminds me of something "Made in an Asian sweatshop" that could be found in a souvenir shop with "You are the champ!" written on it. Or a promotional table lighter on the desk of an underground car repair shop. Made in an Asian sweatshop as well.
Oh wait! Wasn't it Avon that paved the way for funny looking bottles? At least Avon bottles achieved a certain cult status over time, while this bloody poseur seems to really expect us to be stunned by its gravitas right from the start.
And to add insult to injury, three out of four noses did the same with Burberry's Brit Rhythm, another benchmark of mediocrity and "forgotten in a heartbeat" quality. In the same year! The whole thing reminds me of some travelling sideshow, blaring about the wonders you'll behold by entering its tent, but all you'll see by doing so, are some miserable fake monsters made of plaster and badly painted. I guess Veronique Nyberg had some dignity left, and jumped off the caravan before its downward spiral hit the bottom...
The only positive thing about it, is that it spares me the chore of writing a review for Burberry's Brit Rhythm (what an "inspired" name!), cause by simply reversing the names and subtracting Veronique Nyberg from this unholy equation, there, you have it already!
P.S.: I'm sure that some younger readers will go livid on me, but I'm afraid I can't stress enough how someone who has smelled Paco Rabanne pour Homme and Ténéré in their heyday feels about today's releases...
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