DN1982

The individual ingredients of this creation are all on my I Like list, and yet this fragrance surprises me with its fabulously good balance. Conifer extracts of all kinds are sometimes easily associated with Grandma's fir needle bubble bath from the four-liter bottle or Franzen's brandy - and here we are dealing with these extracts three times. No, let's put aside the mental image of Grandma pouring two full caps of the fir needle bubble bath into the tub and rubbing her creaky knees with brandy after the bath.

This has quality. You have the needles and the resin in your hand, you crush it, toss it in the air, let your arms swirl, and smell your hands - pure ether. BVpH gives you a lot of that, but it doesn't overwhelm you, because it adds the freshness of bergamot. Sage and allspice provide the spice, rounded off by the balsamic, sweet labdanum. The allspice is also rather sweetly aromatic, but I really don't care which of the two is the sweeter part; they complement each other perfectly, which also applies to the base notes. The scent is rounded; nothing disturbs, nothing annoys, there is no unrest.

When I smell BVpH, this fragrance inevitably takes me back to the 1980s. The scene is set in Italy, early autumn. It is no longer oppressively hot; it is sunny and mild, and the air already smells slightly of autumn. I see an Italian businessman, unusually tall at about 1.95 meters. Very slim, lanky figure, wearing a kind of pilot's glasses from the design department of a German sports car manufacturer; dressed in a black-brown suit, of course, custom-made. The frame of his sunglasses shines in competition with his also custom-made shoes, while he leans against the B-pillar of his silver thistle metallic W126 280 SE, talking on the car phone. A gentleman. Not arrogant, yet somehow aloof. Exuding calm and sovereignty, a man of style and taste.

Then I see that this fragrance is not even that old and has not yet reached 10 years! Excuse me? And yet it is so classic, so old-school elegant, that no one would place it in the here and now. Someone has understood how to make a fragrant statement. I seem to have found my way back on the right track - there is still good stuff to discover off the mainstream that hasn't been released at least 25 years ago. Only one thing seems to be due to the current zeitgeist: the lack of projection and longevity. After all, it doesn't disappear as abruptly as a tall, lanky businessman from the neighborhood, who happened to be from Southern Europe, always wore a suit, had a penchant for good fragrances, drove a silver thistle metallic W126, and was in a terrible hurry when the German tax investigation was on his tail...

The scent caught my attention very positively when I was a child, thanks to my late great-uncle. Also because I always had the thought that good fragrances were more of a domain for women.

So at around ten or eleven years old, in 1986 or '87, we were visiting my great-uncle and were just getting ready to leave when he said to me, "Wait a moment, I have something for you."

A game? Excitement? Chocolate? Well, he was usually very sparing with those. And now he goes to the bathroom. What could he possibly bring from there? His rubber duck, perhaps?
Far from it. He held a small flat black box with the inscription Drakkar Noir in his hand. With a smile on his face, he deftly opened the small box and pulled out a small glass bottle. "I have something special for you!" He took the cap off the bottle, which had a long thin plastic strip attached to it, stroked that strip behind my left ear, dipped it back into the bottle, and repeated the process behind my right ear. Then he put the cap back on, placed the small bottle back in the box, closed it, and handed it to me.
"That's something really fine, just right for a fine guy like you," he said with a gentle, thoroughly honest smile in his eyes.

And then the olfactory delight unfolded! And that with such a small dose of perhaps a tenth of a milliliter - I was stunned!
I cherished that sample, using the scent only for larger family celebrations.
At some point, the sample ran out. I kept the empty vial for a while and in the meantime tried all sorts of (shaving) waters, many of which were good, but none came close to what Drakkar Noir offered.

One day, I was flipping through a magazine and found an advertisement for Drakkar Noir. Drakkar Noir? The name rings a bell, doesn't it?
What was even better, there was a small card with a fragrance sample stuck to the ad.
I tore it open, put my nose to it, and there it was again, the dragon boat. So I took some money and set off to get a bottle of this fragrance bomb. There it was again, that olfactory delight that brought me one compliment after another, and at times I could hardly escape the inquiries about what perfume I was wearing. Mind you, this was the early nineties when Drakkar Noir was supposedly on everyone's lips, the best-selling men's EDT, etc.; yet no one but my great-uncle wore it, which still surprises me to this day.

Drakkar Noir really suited every occasion, and even if the better is the enemy of the good: Never change a running system! Especially when it fits you perfectly from the start and doesn't need to be beautified through countless trials. Over the years, I have tried several fragrances and kept some in my repertoire, but DN is part of the core team!

Ultimately, it was a blessing for all involved that my great-uncle was one of the last wounded to be evacuated from the Stalingrad cauldron and thus survived World War II in southern France, where he met a French woman who, as we know, was born with a preference for good fragrances. Otherwise, I might never have ended up with this bombastic scent that was so formative. Posthumously, many thanks for that.

However, at some point, it must have been around 2000, this classic must have been slightly changed for the first time, if not the second. At the same time, Cosmair was no longer printed on the back of the coveted bottle, but LLC. I still had the old one and could directly compare both versions. The spray head was also changed; it became smaller and sprays a bit less than the old one.

The juice didn't necessarily get worse; it became a bit milder and more base-note-heavy, with the heart and base notes coming into play earlier (which I quite liked), but with the exception of the previously perfectly balanced leather note, which unfortunately is no longer present.
However, this reformulation came at the expense of longevity! It still lasts about 5-6 hours. But those who know that Drakkar Noir in its original version lasted about twice as long and had a much stronger sillage might be a bit disappointed. Especially since two sprays used to be the absolute maximum dosage, whereas now you need double that.

Around 2009, I suddenly found myself enjoying bottles with the Cosmair label again, which, according to the seller, were from ongoing production and came close to the original in terms of scent and longevity. An inquiry to Guy Laroche about who is currently (!) the distributor of Drakkar Noir was never answered. Since I have been smelling good for years and had to ask this uncomfortable question to other manufacturers as well, I quickly realized that I never (!) received an answer. Why not, if they have nothing to hide or are not in trouble with IFRA?

However, the seller from whom I bought a bottle from the Cosmair era in 2009 misled me! DN was sold out, and I ordered from another shop. What did I get? A bottle from LLC from 2010!!! What does that tell us? Fresh stock still only comes from LLC - to this day! Since all other lovers of good fragrances buy up all the old, unreformulated stock right in front of your nose, the chances of getting old new stock have now dropped to zero. Except for opened bottles or vintage minis via eBay.

Now we are in the year 2020. And again, DN smells different from my last 2013 badge! The spray head has been changed again; now the old larger one from who knows how many years ago is back on. Of course, a bit of redesign has also been done on the label on the bottle. After various comparisons, I can say with certainty that DN has been operated on three times between 2000 and 2020 - any questions?
Interestingly, DN now comes across as more robust and full-bodied. Not like the original from the 1980s, but closer to it than what was launched ten years ago. They seem to have actually found an adequate replacement for oak moss. Also, the zero leather that DN's fans had to endure has at least been replaced by a barely noticeable +0.1 of leather.
Peace, joy, DN? No! Even though the overall composition is rounder again, the creators have taken away any form of reach from the good boy. No matter how much it has been reformulated - when the bottle is empty, I buy a refill without DN within a maximum of 4 weeks, because otherwise, I feel like something is missing. My current 2020 badge (100 ml) is half empty after 6 weeks of daily use; I reapply at least twice a day with at least 6 sprays each time. I've never had such immense wear! As soon as it's there, it's gone! The scent is still great, but anyone who doesn't know it to this day should leave it at this status quo; it's just frustrating! It's sad that I have to say this: Take the thin crap off the market!!!

Actually, what I chose as a title would be enough. But let's do it a bit differently here:
Where does a classic safari take place? Somewhere in Africa, driving through steppes, deserts, and savannas in a Land Rover. Nice weather, right? Yes, but damn hot! And if you could just dip your feet in a waterhole to cool off, it would either be swarming with crocodiles or infested with billions of mosquitoes.

Let's summarize: it’s damn hot, you sweat like a pig, smell like one quickly, and the pests will eat you alive. But there is a remedy for that: Safari for men. You don’t need to fill the air in the locker room with an explosive and breathtaking mix of spray cans like the youth does after gym class. Just a couple of sprays from Ralph's good piece is enough to achieve a similarly overwhelming effect - completely without the risk of explosion. Yes, that’s what you need on a sweat-inducing safari - a sheer overdose of citrus, greens, and to make it a bit less dull, a big bouquet of flowers on top. Anything that even remotely resembles body odor must go - and it undoubtedly does that. No, the opening is really borderline and was already considered outdated back in '92.
Thank God the guy becomes a bit more suitable for everyday wear as it dries down, transforming into a distinctly classic men's fragrance, specializing in scissors, knives, and leather. And isn’t it said that cedar oil is supposed to repel mosquitoes? Then this would indeed be the perfect miracle weapon in the African outback. However, I remember tests where cedar oil was found ineffective against mosquitoes. Well, perhaps it protects against wild animals in case you forgot your hunting rifle on the plane.
At least: there’s no caraway! With caraway, the old men in their Land Rover wouldn’t be able to stop in time in front of Alfred's hairdressing shop window.

Yes, I admit it, I used it a few times as a youthful sin when it first came out, back when today’s grandpas were still the old geezers of (over)morrow. Okay, sometimes you wanted to appear a bit more mature and older, and what the girls achieved with makeup, the boys liked to do with striking scents. But I had already realized two or three years earlier that there are fragrances that not only made you seem more mature but also garnered compliments. Although, it could also be a compliment when she said to you, "Hey, my dad likes to use that one too," with an honest smile on her face, as if she was offering you something familiar.
You see, there are always different perspectives and approaches, and it would surely be boring if it were otherwise.

If one has taken the effort to de-Frenchify the name of this brilliant fragrance, it clearly indicates a specific direction.

But is it really that natural, that down-to-earth and earthy? Or is there something else, no less fascinating, hidden within? Well, the opening hits hard - could this really be a powerhouse...? Yes, it seems there are still such things, and I get to experience it - all without a million deadly roses!
It is loud, the Hermes with its citrus-resinous freshness, which I immediately like. It is also a bit rough, yes wild, so Sauvage to put it in a left-bank way - and not just on paper! - and I believe that is intentional, and this restlessness is not bothersome. On the contrary - it is a pleasure to see or smell how the fragrance notes engage in a veritable street fight for dominance, and no one, but really no one can permanently take the scepter here: Even if the resin seems to have the upper hand, there are the citrus fruits trying to cut in on the resin. The flint cannot stand this at all and adds its burning-bitter note, which simultaneously wants to be overshadowed by the no less bitter rose geranium leaf.

And exactly this interplay of this variety of nature-known scents, which are very contradictory in their origins, makes the fragrance something different - something COMPLETELY DIFFERENT: yes, there are nature-known scents, but they all head in a direction that is not natural but has technical origins. There is not just a flare-up of the medicinal adhesive plaster note that characterized the original version (!) of YSL's M7.
There is even more technicality: the electrician will surely not find the term NYM cable unfamiliar. The individual conductors are insulated with a soft, crumbly plastic, which is then enclosed by the outer insulation. And this soft, crumbly plastic smells very similar to TdH.
Another plastic, it must be polycarbonate - but I am not 100% sure - develops a rather strong, slightly burning smell when bent back and forth beyond its elastic deformability - TdH has that too, but significantly less pronounced than the soft crumbly plastic in the NYM cable, which is unknown to me in its composition. So rather cable-heavy, the good one.
For those who find these technical smells rather unpleasant, I can still reassure them, because TdH lays its citrus freshness over it.
I go even further: the wet asphalt that a commentator attributed to Narciso Rodriguez for Him - which is hardly found there or only with the greatest olfactory optimism - is much easier to detect here - benzoin, flint, and rose geranium leaf are the magic words!

When it tones down, vetiver and patchouli push forward. Actually not quite right, because they are already quite early in the party, uh, party. Now the technical aspect, even a bit of coolness, recedes a little and now this guy lives up to his earthy hint. The cedar plays very subtly in the background, and I can't really pick out the two little peppers. Which is not wrong for the sharp grains - too many fragrances become musty, one-dimensional, and thus annoying and boring due to pepper, with the pink variant still being the best of all peppers. Here, however, as already mentioned, hardly anything is to be heard, but only as glue, as filler, and vehicle for the other components that make up this fragrance.

For those who like resinous scents and can tolerate Sauvage... Or better yet: for those who like it even more resinous and can tolerate the Sauvage-inspired Extreme from La Rive even better, but want it dirtier in the sense of earthier, cooler, and simply more technical, they should definitely stick their nose in here - it could be worth it.

TdH achieves several splits at once. It offers a wealth of opposing fragrance components of natural origin that at first glance do not necessarily want to harmonize, yet they do. At the same time, this composition bridges to scents from the technical realm without losing its "grounding." And then TdH also has something classic about it. Ellena has not created arcs with this fragrance; he has created a circle with the potential to become a classic - if it is not already one.
I don't kid myself - TdH is a great technician who has what it takes to be a signature scent. Drakkar Noir led me into the world of fragrances in the late 1980s, further fueling my lifelong love for the smell of leather and thus shaping me accordingly. In the 90s, it would have been Halston's Catalyst, and in the 2000s, M7 in its original version. In the 2010s, then O Boticario's Quasar Fire. Although: it would probably have fought quite a bit with the Quasar Onix from the same house for dominance, similar to how the individual fragrance components do in TdH. And today? I hardly dare to say it, but it would be TdH! Any questions?

Who doesn't know that feeling when you're sitting at the table? The meal isn't terrible, but you don't really want a second helping, and then comes that forced smile from the person being asked and their polite refusal. That's how I feel about this fragrance. Why? Well, it's just one of those favorites: over the past at least 10 years and more, I've smelled similar mainstream favorites like One Million - yes, the one with the lethal dose of rose - which is appreciated on one hand, but on the other, it's also something you don't want to wear every day. Like a toy from long ago that quickly became boring and ended up in the corner.
The monotony of the scent contributes to the boredom; the fragrance pyramid leaves no doubt: here, however, it’s not a lethal dose of roses, but rather the musty pepper on the back of its workhorse named sage, which has just stumbled into a bog of vanilla, slowly drowning in it with no helper in sight. This spectacle, or drama in one act, lasts about 7-8 hours and doesn't wash off easily. Now, I'm going to fry myself a nice steak topped with plenty of fried onions and throw in a portion of fries, hoping that these gourmand notes will help cover up the poorly wash-offable scent.

For those who still enjoy this direction, including those who have scoffed at why a fragrance is rated poorly just because it’s sweet, I recommend trying Halloween Man by Jesus Del Pozo if they want to really indulge. It’s definitely suitable for sweet lovers as a realization that the better is the enemy of the good. And for something in between, a whiff of Wanted by Night is also worth it.