Paco Rabanne pour Homme Rabanne 1973 Eau de Toilette

Paco Rabanne Pour Homme is a classic, hyper-masculine aromatic fougere. The reason it's going on its second half century since its introduction is that it is just so good - an awesome, testosteronic fragrance. The herbal and green opening dries down to a wonderful musky honey scent, but with only a slight touch of sweetness. I applied it to my chest and neck and compared it to Bogart and One Man Show on either wrist. The opening is similar to Bogart, but then they part ways, with Bogart being noticeably more woody while PRPH is, as I said, musky honey on the dry down. There was no similarity to One Man Show.

Performance was excellent, with PRPH projecting over an arms length out for about 2 hours followed by a strong scent bubble that remained for a good 8 hours at which point I showered to get ready for an evening event. It could have gone even longer and it's enhanced by warm weather and sweat. Very versatile and would work any time of the year, day or night. For more formal events, you may want to go with something else.

This fragrance is for a confident man who knows what he wants. Not good for the cotton candy callants and bubblegum boys. Your balls have to hang low and heavy for this baby. Full bottle worthy - I got the industrial 200 ml size bottle.

I assume that by now, it has become more than obvious through my reviews that I'm a total vintage freak, and since I've never come upon a reformulation that was better than the original fragrance, I think that my reasons for being such a freak are on solid ground. Thus, all my reviews and comments are about the original formulations of the fragrances they're about.
So, Paco Rabanne pour Homme. This is one of the "Holy Trinity" of rather expensive fragrances that I remember from when I was a kid, and were hugely popular in Greece during the '70s and '80s. The other two were Azzaro pour Homme and Aramis. An uncle of mine was using all three of them regularly, so I grew quite accustomed with each one of them. If we consider Aramis as a "battle scent" and Azzaro as a "macho overdose", Paco Rabanne was a much more refined tough guy, with a sweet undercurrent lurking under his skin. I'd daresay it was the metrosexual of its era. I'm not even sure after all these years if it would qualify as a "powerhouse", compared of course with fragrances like Quorum and Drakkar Noir. I don't mean that it lacked in sillage and longevity, cause it didn't, and there's absolutely no doubt that it would singlehandedly beat to a pulp 99% of today's masculine fragrances, but compared to the rest of the beasts that roamed the Earth during its heyday, it somehow lacked in "powerhouse" quality, which is a quite abstract and difficult thing to explain. For example, Le Male and 1 Million have nuclear sillage and longevity, but not a chance to be rendered as powerhouses, cause they lack the sense of seriousness and/or meaning business that old powerhouses had. Maybe this was the reason that its bottle had smooth curves and was a joy to hold, while Aramis and Azzaro pour Homme bottles' edges could be used as a knife in an emergency. And that unique, elegant and peaceful shade of green it held, was like saying "Come on gentlemen! We don't need that much of testosterone to prove us men!" in a melifluous and cultivated, yet commanding voice.
Since I'm not a rich guy, my only chance of laying my hands on vintage bottles is to discover them in some backstreet shop. And I haven't stumbled on any Paco Rabanne yet. So my comments are mainly based on my memory and the feelings that this fragrance evoked to me back in the day. A couple of years ago I visited a Sephora shop to browse through body lotions, and there I saw an almost full tester of Paco Rabanne pour Homme, next to almost empty 1 Million, Invictus and Black XS ones. This seemed quite reasonable, because what Sephora visitor would mind to test in 2013 a fragrance launched in 1973? I thought "Why not?" and reached for it, but its sprayer appeared to be jammed. It seems that the universe was sending me some kind of message. But being a stubborn explorer, I ignored it and insisted on pushing the sprayer and my luck, and what I finally got was a good deal of the fragrance spilt on my hand. Its dinstinctive soapy quality was still there, but that was about the only thing that was left from the scent I remembered. It didn't smell natural at all, and to be honest I found it a little cloying and off putting. I informed the sales assistants about the malfunction and told them that the fragrance might have gone bad. They were helpful enough to bring a new tester, but it sprayed the same disappointment on me. I stood brooding for a few seconds, mentally waving yet another reminder of my youth goodbye. It bode me farewell in about 3 hours...
To conclude, Paco Rabanne pour Homme was one of the cleanest smelling fragrances of its time, with a sweetness (honey?) that was rather unusual back then, and much more sophisticated and courtly than most of the brutes of its era which were knocking you of your feet right upon first spray. But alas, as I've already mentioned, the appropriate tense when talking about its present self is simple past for me, and as such it shall remain...

*This is a review of vintage Paco Rabanne pour Homme.

Paco Rabanne pour Homme (vintage) opens with a blast of aromatic lavender before a fern-like green accord takes over as the star in the early heart. Joining the relatively sharp greens is an underlying dirty spice that most likely is cumin (though not listed in the official fragrance notes). The dirty green accord continues through the earlier stages of the dry-down, as a relatively dry supporting honey note permeates the dirty greens. During the late dry-down the composition softens as the dirty greens all but disappear, leaving slightly powdery oakmoss from the base to couple with the remnants of the honey. Projection is above average and longevity is outstanding at 12+ hours on skin.

Paco Rabanne pour Homme (vintage) is a fragrance that I really want to like but there is something in it that holds me back. The aromatic lavender open smells really great and I wish it hung around longer, but my guess is the culprit behind my lack of enthusiasm must be the cumin-like dirty spice undertone in the early heart. Also a contributing factor of note is the very old-fashioned green fern-like vibe exhibited by the composition (somewhat reminiscent of the primary heart accord in Clive Christian's 1872 for Men) that just seems a bit out of place nowadays. As I tend to seek out and love classic compositions from Paco Rabanne pour Homme's time period generally, my guess is that if it is striking *me* as old-fashioned it must be viewed as truly ancient by many others. The bottom line is the still relatively inexpensive Paco Rabanne pour Homme (vintage) does smell good and is certainly a classic masculine for sure, but I am not quite a fan of its dirty green presentation and can only award it a "good" 3 star out of 5 rating with a tepid recommendation.

Simply a classic. A classic which is rewritten to modern style and tries to reconnect the new age to old style.
The new version is how a perfume starts Italian and transfers to French mood! Pour Homme starts green intense and herbal like a green meadow in sunny day somewhere in south of Italia. But the final stage is a french soap on marble bath tub. The core is apparently watered down. I wonder if it satisfy a classic fan.
Longevity 6/10
Sillage 5/10
Scent not enough, not enough

Will this settle things once and for all for those whom argue that older formulations were superior? Well, I refuse to make any such claim and will simply share my observations and thoughts on all three.

1970s Paco Rabanne Pour Homme:
The seductive gravity of this classic is immediate. The opening notes, while not completely vibrant—cut this bottle some slack, its nearly 50 years old—are not turned at all: a still effulgent conifer-like rosemary, a green-licorice-snap tarragon, a 'bay rum without the rum' laurel, all here. The lavender, geranium and tonka are all whipped up in heaping globs of clean-shave musk xylene and the like creating a bubbling outward contour of this accord. These musks reveal the quintessence of the classic fougere that would be nearly impossible after the ban on them by the 1980s. And the oakmoss? We must dispel this myth disseminated throughout the online discourse: yes, there is the oakmoss extract, but make no mistake: there's a whole lot more Evernyl as it has been so since its introduction several decades prior to PRPH's release. The mossiness is lovely, for sure, but it's these nitro-musks that drive the legend, exalting the sweet fern core and honey-scented soap bubble. I even get hints of costus. It's epic.

1990s Paco Rabanne Pour Homme:
The sparkly-spiky-pine aldehyde and heavy linalool opening here is mostly absent from the prior version, which may be attributed to age or some adjusting of the formula. Be that as it may, its lovely, and soon thereafter, the savory herbal aromas all are here, a spiced undertone mingling with the lavender/geranium/tonka triad as well. The spirit is still the same, nothing drastically different, as warm and as inviting as ever. The absence of nitro-musks does leave a je ne sais quoi missing, but this is replaced by other musks and fixatives that help hold the shape of it all. There's still that Irish Spring gusto to it, and the mossiness and shade of costus is still intact. It is a delight as well.

2010s Paco Rabanne Pour Homme:
The freshest sparkle and linalool, a strong sillage, and the longest duration of these opening phrases. The herbs fade in slowly, and are a bit more sheer and metallic, but still quite enjoyable. The fougere core is still here! There is a bit more clary sage to my nose, which I will not wave a finger at, I approve. The geranium in the triad is a bit more subdued, which is somewhat unfortunate, but not a total loss. Many like to point out that the Evernia prunastri is still listed in the ingredients, and yes the soupçon is still there, and there probably wasn't much more in prior iterations, so cool your jets, matey, it is and has been mostly Evernyl. It's of course not exactly like the 1970s and 1990s versions, but it is no slouch, it's still radiant in all its autumnal splendor, it mostly is missing the aura of the nitro-musks of the vintage and has be bit less of a balls-deep mossiness and costus. We should be lucky we still have it in production (for now).

Having all three on my skin is quite a trip, I might add.