Hajuvana

Although I'm very tempted by the idea of writing a review on Mouchoir de Monsieur without a single reference to Jicky, I guess it's only fair to start by stating that yes, they are similar.

Nevertheless, if I hadn't smelled, owned and worn Jicky EdT prior to MdM, I would have simply perceived the latter as a wonderful, old-fashioned powdery fougére dominated by three notes in particular: lavender, iris and civet. You will have to like each of the three in order to appreciate or even tolerate MdM.

However, having worn Jicky and never feeling entirely comfortable with its dry-down, I will make some comparisons.
First of all, despite some people feel exactly the opposite, I find considerably more civet in MdM. Someone at Basenotes referred to MdM's animalic side as "bad breath" smell, which is not only brilliantly funny but also brilliantly accurate. But only if you huff it from an inches distance and that's not how one wears a perfume.
Whereas Jicky is more herbal and aromatic, MdM is essentially flowery. Jicky does have a noticeable rose note, but that's in a way obscured by the herbs.
And about the drydown... Even though MdM kind of settles into a more powdery scent than it's elder sister, I also do find it somehow more 'open', easier to wear and - dare I say this - artistically better. Jicky, at least in its current EdT formula, turns more into an ambery mess.

Mouchoir de Monsieur may not be the easiest masculine to pull off, but it has such timeless, unquestionable beauty, that instead of wanting to wear it daily for the rest of my life, I'd much more prefer it to be the single fragrance my loved ones actually remember me by.

Technically, Cologne du 68 is a cologne-like (surprised, I'm sure) citrus-floral composition, which stands on unexpectedly heavy oriental base. Closest relative from Guerlain's own catalog would most likely be L'Instant pour Homme (if my memory serves me right).

The anise note outlasts the citrusy opening and eventualy fades giving room for the heart, which is essentially floral. The opening actually reminded me quite a lot of Dior's Dune pour Homme. They both are supposed to have fig, but I suspect this time the similarity is not as much about having shared note(s) than it is about the way the aromatic edge of the classical cologne theme has been tuned down and softened. With this many notes listed, it's funny how gardenia isn't one of them. I'm no floral expert for sure, but I could swear I get lots of it.

The dry-down is unmistakably Guerlain, or even more so something desperately trying to pass as Guerlain. Somehow I feel the dry-down doesn't fit into the picture at all. And in the end, that's how I feel about this fragrance in general: the structure is confusing and the dots don't connect.

As gender-neutral as it gets.

Not bad by any means. I'm sure I'd choose to wear it, if I received it as a gift. But if it came to spending my own money on Guerlain's current offerings, there would be plenty of better choices for me, personally.

I don't see (smell) Habit Rouge as a 'love at first sniff' type of fragrance at all. On the contrary, you might actually hate it at first and then one day, all of a sudden, you find yourself in love with it.

Habit Rouge opens with lemon note, which is paradoxically both juicy and dry. Things turn quickly into a very pleasant bouquet of spices, which I find utterly comforting - especially in the wintertime. The mix of spices is not too far away from gingerbread or (If you're familiar with) 'glögg', the Swedish-style heavily spiced mulled wine. Parts of that spiciness last throughout the dry-down, while the overall impression gently morphs into a woody-oriental base. The vanilla is gentle - there's less of it than in, say Héritage. The leather note is also very delicate. Neither do I find HR's dry-down too sweet or resinous. Things are just ...right - seamlessly from top to down. I feel the key players that neatly tie the whole package together (and smooth the transitions to the point of being unnoticeable) are rose and incense. Both are present from start to finish, but not for a minute they dominate.

I haven't bothered chasing the vintage formulations, because the current one is just perfect and doesn't cost a fortune. I feel it has hidden unisex-potential, too.

If I had to wear only one fragrance for the rest of my life, Habit Rouge would be on my very short list of candidates.

Imagine a soda flavour 'Tropical fruit & exotic hardwood shavings' and you pretty much have it.

Artistically brilliant composition doesn't always equal wearability. On the other hand, if fruity-woody aquatics are your thing, I doubt there's anything better (or even half as good) out there.

One shouldn't be fooled by its affordable price nor its bathfoam-like packaging – Grey Flannel smells terrific, unique and more expensive than most of today's designer stuff.
I'm having hard time detecting any of the notes featured on the pyramid above, except for the violet leaf, that is. Or at least the pyramid is very misleading. This is not nearly as floral as it suggests. Essentially this is a dry, green masculine built around the violet leaf note, with emphasis on the herbal/camphorous side of the note. Some whiffs of cooking herbs and even white pepper are obvious at times. The art or magic, however, is in how several notes have been forced to play second violin in perfect harmony to the violet leaf. Even the coumarin-like base has somehow been tuned to primarily reveal its greener side. Theres nothing creamy or cloying in there. If there's any sweetness, it's closer to burned sugar.

I won't suggest you to try it before buying, I simply suggest you buy it anyway. Chances are high that it won't become a daily favorite, but very likely something you feel tempted to revisit every now and then. Just to appreciate it's uncannily clever structure.

Be easy on the trigger, though – this is tenacious stuff. Even though its sillage won't kill anyone, you might find 3+ squirts nauseating yourself.