Hajuvana

This stuff gets frequently (and rightfully) compared to Rochas Man and New Haarlem by Bond No. 9, both of which are work of the great Maurice Roucel. What really amazes me, is the fact that Legend precedes both by several years (1997 vs. 1999 and 2003, respectively). Also, I've never seen it credited to any perfumer. That just makes me wonder which makes more sense: a single perfumer composing three very similar fragrances within a span of six years - each covering very different markets - OR the distinguished Mssr. Roucel releasing not one but two clones (or pastiches, to be more polite) of a work by another perfumer? All I'm saying that it makes me wonder.
What does it smell like, then? To put it in one word, it smells great. Knowing what it is, it's easy to call it a bit flat or one-dimensional, but if I had just ran into a smell like this, I wouldn't characterize it as cheap, but merely linear(-ish). Not a single facet exists that I might consider annoying or irritating.
Above anything, Legend is a gourmand masculine (whereas one of the most intriguing aspects of New Haarlem lies in the overlapping of fougère and gourmand accords). The coffee note in Legend lacks most of the delicious roasted feel that New Haarlem's opening has, but both are coffee-prominent scents nevertheless. Whereas New Haarlem has monster projection and can be a bit too dominating if over-applied, Legend wears easy and care-free. The aromatic notes, anise in particular, add air to the composition.

One of the best (if not THE best) bargains in my book. Wear it as it is (i.e. an auto-pilot gourmand) or try layering it with some lavender to make it an even closer substitute for New Haarlem.

...you've probably noticed that most others are positive (and rightfully so).

Vetiver Extrême is essentially a herbal take on the vetiver root (as opposed to two main schools of the contemporary vetiver - the woodies & the smokies). Here, the vetiver note is surrounded by a herbal, licorice-like top and an almost leathery base, which might be the combination of incense, pepper and something sweet and cardamom-like. What might be upsetting for some Guerlain-enthusiasts is the fact that this is a quite linear scent. Plus there are some shamelessly synthetic notes in this - altogether a pretty odd thing coming from the house of Guerlain, who IMO are doing superb job achieving a relatively 'natural' feel (and skin-time-evolution) even with their more affordable products.

If you're like me and prefer your vetivers clean, herbal, and without smokiness or ISO-E-super, this is something you might want to give a sniff. Though I'll have to agree that this is not your typical Guerlain masculine. You won't find a gorgeous citrus opening here. Nor it has a classical top-to-down structure. To be honest, It might even smell a bit cheap at times (which might be due to the fact that it IS cheap). But if you think outside the Guerlain box and move into the context of contemporary perfumery in general, those aren't necessarily faults or weaknesses.
As a downside worth mentioning, I've found Vetiver Extrême's longevity just barely average and its sillage way below average.

P.S. I'm very curious about who composed this. It can't possibly be Jean-Paul Guerlain, that's for sure.

Inky crispness, that morphs into semi-sweet soapiness. During the first third of its evolution, the bouquet of herbs actually reminds me quite a bit of Jägermeister.

Hugely influential and vastly copied, which makes it difficult to rate. After all, you can't blame the original for smelling like its million derivatives. What bothers me personally, is that Paco Rabanne is mostly about its heart notes and not much else. The dry-down is very pleasant, sure, but somehow the structure feels ...flat.

Later additions to the genre explored the possibilities of the aromatic fougère with excellent artistic results (e.g. Azzaro PH, Dior jules or YSL's Kouros - all of which have survived their reformulations quite agreeably so far) and considerably widened the spectrum of what a single masculine can "do".

I wear Paco Rabanne Pour Homme occasionally and mainly just to celebrate its historical value. I've tried both vintage and contemporary versions, and - to nobody's surprise, I'm sure - the vintage version is more pleasant, more natural-smelling. But IMO the current stuff is still recognizable, contrary to what some people say. Sure. it has a sort of 'digitally modeled' feel to it, but still: if you hate the new one, you won't love the old one either.

I, too, feel that Pour un Homme is about lavender, vanilla and nothing much else. Whatever there's listed on the pyramid, it's there for adding durability to the lavender. I was going to say it's there 'for structure', but after giving it a second thought, it occurred to me that Pour un Homme doesn't really have a classical top-to-down structure in the manner of, say, Guerlains. This stuff is surprisingly linear as the vanilla kicks in early and the lavender hangs on late. The lavender is well balanced between being metallic and burned sugar -like. The funny thing is that the lavender and vanilla never really connect (or form a synthesis like they do in Guerlain's Jicky). They just exist, side by side. The genius of Pour un Homme's structure is in its, umm... structureless ...ness.

Someone might ask how does this compare to Guerlains Jicky or Mouchoir de Monsieur in terms of wearability. While I admire Jicky for it's historical significance and enjoy wearing both (especially MdM) a lot, I don't perceive either as an everyday fragrance. In comparison, Pour un Homme is much less formal; something I happily wear at the office and don't mind reapplying in the afternoon. I'm sure nobody will be offended and most likely many would be surprised if I told them I'm wearing a 80-year old formula.

Longevity is not remarkable, but liberal application on both skin and fabric will help. Also, reapplying during the day feels great and it won't mess with the dramaturgy, as the structure is what it is.

And before I forget: the bottle is wonderful.

The pyramid looks all wrong to me. From a 2015 bottle, what I get is a borderline case between an aromatic fougère and a leathery chypre. As I happen to love that specific mix, here are some observations.

Opening: Not much citrus nor lavender. To be completely honest, all I get is jasmin, Juicy Fruit and juniper.

As the heart uncovers, the strange synthetic fruit note fades (thank goodness) and we're in the same ball park as, say Paco Rabanne pour Homme or, even more so, Worth Pour Homme. The kinship with the latter is especially in the interplay between a fougère accord and smoky leather notes. Now that I think about it, not even Kouros is that far away. If you took Kouros and removed everything interesting (the artemisia from the start and the urinous, animalic civet & honey effect from the other end), you'd be left with Le 3me Homme, basically.

A floral masculine? Just about as floral as my ass. Not bad, but disappointing considering its reputation. There are several similar eighties' pieces I'll be choosing over this.