Chypre-Siam Rogue

For anyone who has always wanted to know how Chypres smelled at the time when oakmoss was still allowed to be used without restrictions, there are two options: either look for a vintage fragrance, which should be quite 'vintage' since the use of oakmoss was already limited in the 90s, or reach for this scent.
Manuel Cross, the owner and perfumer of the label 'Rogue Perfumery', doesn't care a bit about the regulations from Europe and includes in his fragrances what is now only found in the poison cabinet here: Musk Ketone, Musk Xylol, and copious amounts of oakmoss. Oakmoss with all its nuances, spiked with Atranol and Chloratranol.
No wonder his fragrances are not allowed to be sold here, but in faraway California they are, where life is generally approached a bit more casually.
So, one could call 'Chypre Siam' a small act of rebellion against a bureaucracy that wants to protect us from health damage through total bans on fragrance substances that trigger allergic reactions in about 3% of consumers, while being extremely lax with tobacco, alcohol, or pesticides like glyphosate.
The pleasure of being able to sniff 'Chypre Siam' right in the middle of Europe thus has something almost subversive about it and greatly enhances its appeal.

'Chypre Siam' is also an exceptionally captivating fragrance. When I first sprayed it a few days ago, it felt like a reunion with old friends who moved far away and whom I hadn't seen in ages. The familiarity is instantly back, but so is the painful feeling of prolonged absence.

'Chypre Siam' somewhat resurrects the Chypre heroes of the past. However, it is not merely a copy - the fragrance rather quotes them. Above all, the ultimate super-Chypre: the legendary 'Chypre de Coty'. Unfortunately, I am not familiar with François Coty's 'Chypre', and one must travel to the Osmothèque in Versailles to sniff this legend, but I can imagine that 'Chypre Siam' is not too far from Coty's masterpiece. At least the interplay of jasmine, civet, musk, and oakmoss seems to characterize both fragrances. Judging by the notes, Coty's 'Chypre' developed more in a floral-animalic direction, while 'Chypre Siam' tends to lean, beyond a similarly floral heart, into a spicy-animalic leather. It is precisely these facets in the base that make the Rogue fragrance almost a typical leather Chypre like 'Cabochard' or 'Azurée', but only almost. The leather aspect remains a nuance that characterizes the base but does not define the entire fragrance. 'Mitsouko' and 'Femme de Rochas' also have this leathery touch, but in 'Chypre Siam', it is more pronounced. What the Rogue fragrance lacks compared to 'Mitsouko' and 'Femme', however, are the aromatic-sweet fruit notes - no peach and no plum in sight.
Instead, the fragrance starts with a fresh, bitter-herbaceous, and simultaneously green-spicy opening, which is said to be due to kaffir lime and basil.

Had I not read those two notes in the pyramid, I wouldn't have recognized them.
After several sniffs of the fragrance, I suspect that it is these notes, along with an intense, indolic-sweet jasmine note at the center, that are meant to fragrant illustrate the name addition 'Siam'.
Siam - for some reason, only half-explainable to me, Chypre fragrances are often linked to the Asian region: 'Mitsouko', 'Kintsugi', 'Siam'. It must have something to do with the usually strongly contrasting accords that together form a unity, a kind of Yin and Yang. Here the dark, bitter-mossy Yin, there the optionally fruity-sweet, floral, or powdery-green Yang. The aromatic diversity of Asia offers many such contrasts. Just think of Asian cuisine, which is characterized by many flavor contrasts like sweet, sour, bitter, and spicy.

This hesperidic-spicy opening with a slight Asian touch is then instantly enveloped by a powerful oakmoss sound, which one only knows from ancient 'Mitsouko' remnants. And it is almost brutal, which may also be due to the fact that Manuel Cross, despite all respect for his skill, is not Jacques Guerlain. The oakmoss attack in 'Mitsouko' comes across much more civilized and rounded, dressed in haute couture, while in 'Chypre Siam', it bursts forth quite raw and wild. It literally hits you in the nose - a rather interesting experience nowadays, as one generally only encounters homeopathic doses of this fragrance substance or various synthetic substitutes, or recently, as in the case of 'Kintsugi' or 'Chypre 21', a massive patchouli-algae accord that aims to replicate the effect of the original oakmoss.
Here, in 'Chypre Siam', however, it is truly 'the real thing' at work, and that is, of course, a thrill for a Chypre lover like me!

Yet, despite the joy of experiencing the famous Chypre effect once again in its pure form and full regalia, the fragrance - contrary to expectations - did not blow me away.
Yes, it smells great, and yet a quiet disillusionment sets in.

Did I expect too much? Perhaps.

In any case, I did not have that famous wow moment that we perfume junkies all know so well. It was more like: oh yes, very nice, haven't smelled that in a long time, reminds me of this or that wonderful fragrance.
With 'Kintsugi' and also 'Chypre 21', which some consider fake Chypres, it was different. There I felt that wow that knocks you off your feet.
Perhaps I do miss a more modern, contemporary fragrance language. Sniffing 'Chypre Siam' is a bit like looking at old paintings in a museum. While that can sometimes be exciting, it only contributes to the present in a limited way. Newly conceived Chypres like the aforementioned, but also 'French Affair', 'Chypre Shot', or 'Afternoon of a Faun' strike me as contemporary art that opens up spaces to look forward.
Sure, looking back is necessary to understand the present, and sometimes it feels wonderfully nostalgic, but in the long run, I am more intrigued by looking ahead.

So, it remains a pleasure for me to sniff 'Chypre Siam', but I probably won't wear the fragrance. If I did, it would be a bit like wearing the Persian coat of my old piano teacher.
Strange comparison, I know, but somehow it fits.
In a certain way, 'Chypre Siam' is quite old-fashioned, charmingly so, but 'modern' really smells different.

Oh yes: the fragrance has good longevity, with the final, powdery-mossy-leathery phase lasting the longest. The projection is quite generous, explosively so at higher dosages.
And no fear of the animal! Musk and civet are indeed prominent components, especially in the middle of the fragrance journey, but they are light-years away from the dimensions of 'Kouros'.