Bix1602

About five years ago, I didn't understand this scent. My love for iris, vanilla, and tonka was then - let's say - subtle to non-existent. Moreover, men's fragrances had to be different for me: fresh, woody, chypre, barbershop-style. But not like this!

Fast forward to 2025: my olfactory palette has not only expanded, it feels like it has been turned upside down. And now I find myself completely fascinated by this fragrance. So much so that I not only own a half-full 30ml bottle from 2024, but also, as of today, a 100ml bottle from 2018… Almost full!

Dior Homme Intense (2011) is a personal milestone for me: the first perfume that is officially considered a "men's fragrance"... and yet I wear it (or precisely because of that) with complete ease. Without feeling strange, without the sensation of doing something or something "forbidden." It just feels right.

And for those who protest about vanilla and tonka: yes, officially these notes are nowhere to be found. But the deeper you dig into forums, databases, and old interviews, the clearer it becomes: they are there. They were just omitted because a "men's fragrance" apparently couldn't sound sweet in 2015.

If it hadn't been labeled as a "men's fragrance" from the start, I'm sure it would today be considered just as unisex as "Gris Dior / Gris Montaigne (Eau de Parfum) | Dior," "Vanilla Diorama | Dior," or "Oud Ispahan (Eau de Parfum) | Dior."

It is the perfect example of how arbitrary such boundaries are. And it aligns perfectly with the vision of its creator François Demachy:

"I do not compose a fragrance for men or women - I compose for people."

Serpent is exactly what it wants to be:
Rose, but completely new. Not a little flower - a flower - a queen.

The opening: screechingly green and sharp.
Like snake fangs. Like thorns. No gentle start, a bite.

In the drydown, everything becomes earthier, darker, spicier, and calmer. After the attack, you sink between rose bushes, brush against petals, and dive in. The earth catches you. It’s almost soothing, but never tame.

In summary, exactly what many of us secretly desire. Something familiar - like the scent note of rose here - interpreted anew, boldly, and with character, without being unbearable. But beware, not for the faint of heart!

If it’s too strong, you’re too weak. And maybe I am, personally, as well. Serpent is a beast. A successful beast. Just not one that I could tame.

I am honest - I would never have bought this fragrance if I hadn't been caught up in the collecting frenzy of old Guerlain batches and discovered an unbeatable offer for Embruns d'Ylang at night.

The next day, I rushed to the store to test the new version of this "little flower" scent. The chances were good - over the past year, I had increasingly enjoyed Ylang-Ylang and Patchouli. Boldly and energetically, I sprayed myself once.

A strong, floral, spicy yet citrusy cloud greeted me… and deep down, the secret to Guerlain's success: the unmistakable vanilla combo, the "Guerlinade." A salty note was also distinctly perceptible… and that was what initially made me doubt. Salt had "ruined" every perfume for me so far.

But half an hour later, it was just a subtle nuance in the background, like the little pinch of salt you add to cake to round out and deepen the flavor.

So I went for it and became the owner of a fragrance I had walked past for years… maybe sniffed briefly at the tester, but never really paid attention to.

Now it is among my favorites. 3-4 sprays are enough to get through a 10-hour day smelling good. It has also settled on my wool scarf and continues to emit its scent even after weeks.

For me, this fragrance embodies calm, strength, and at the same time softness and serenity, a grown woman who knows exactly who she is and what she wants. And she asserts it without having to be loud (not that that would necessarily be a bad thing).

Embruns d'Ylang takes me in its ochre-yellow, soft yet strong arms, lays me on a fluffy bed of jasmine, dries my two salty tears, and hands me a cinnamon-vanilla cookie with a cup of lime tea. I breathe in deeply and out. And I am happy.

The first time I encountered Azad was in the summer at around 35 degrees Celsius. It was introduced to me as "the best cherry scent you will ever smell." Both were not great conditions to test this fragrance.

I was overwhelmed by its strength and intensity - I could hardly perceive the cherry. Overall, it was okay, but somewhat disappointing. Fast forward to October 2024: it's 25 degrees cooler, and my expectations have cooled down as well. I smell the fragrance again, and suddenly I find it beautiful.

A subtle, not sweet cherry, a lot of leather, spices, dry wood, and smoke. In the opening, it’s almost sharp, but that settles down during the scent's development... Associations with my beloved Cherry Oud arise, and I do a direct comparison. The vibe is indeed the same - however, Azad is a bit less "vanilla" and significantly more "masculine," even though it lacks the "oud" component according to the fragrance notes. This scent from the new Romanian niche house "Necalli" is now truly a fantastic cherry fragrance for me. I see it more on a man than on myself.

Loudo and I did not have a good start. I was arrogant enough to test it only on a paper strip and form an (initial) opinion. On top of that, the opening is not exactly easy: it starts off very sharp and piercing. And this characteristic remains strong and long-lasting on the paper.

Now I was fortunate enough to receive a Discovery Set of Sarah Baker's Oud fragrances Gold Spot, Symmetry, and Loudo. A few days ago, I thought to give it another chance on my skin.

The opening, as expected, is unpleasant. I immediately thought about washing it off quickly. Fortunately, I was distracted enough to give the scent 15 minutes before I held my nose to it again. And what I then perceived was a real surprise.

I smell warm wood with sweet gourmand notes. Vanilla, an authentically white chocolate that is not too sweet, and a very subtle black cherry in the background. Bergamot and Cypriol add a fresh, green, spicy touch that remains throughout the scent's evolution, but gradually diminishes. It has a slight resemblance to my beloved Eau Duelle Eau de Toilette - but is deeper, darker, chocolatier, and less fresh.

The fragrance transports me to a slightly dusty, sun-warmed wooden attic, where I dive deeper and deeper until I stand in front of a wooden table, on which there is a piece of homemade vanilla cake covered with the finest white chocolate and a glass of cherry juice beside it. I sit down and take a bite - it tastes delicious.

This perfume is an extraordinary and multifaceted Oud fragrance, a great new interpretation of a gourmand. It is wonderfully balanced, and if you ask me, I can tell that it is made with 100% real Oud oil. Nothing bites or scratches or causes headaches - it seems to shimmer in dark colors.

Loudo has shown me more than any other that one should not evaluate a perfume from this world solely by smelling it on a paper strip. And I am toying with the idea of giving all the fragrances that I have only tested on paper and found horrendous another chance on my skin.