HugeBalls

I know I've gone off the deep end, but I smell something akin to MFK's Amyris Homme EDT in this. Except it's a "sportier," less sophisticated fragrance wherein every shared note is slightly worse. Before you spray this, pop a couple of TUMS, because the citrus opening is a very acerbic and makes me feel like I'm about to develop a horrible case of acid reflux. It's like a small cupful of lemon-scented Pledge being thrust unexpectedly under your nose. Luckily, it mellows the f*#& out within 15-20 minutes and becomes a pleasant but still too sour lemon. Honestly, this could have been drastically improved with an extra dose of fixatives. The musk, amber, and vanilla in this are faint and it badly needs their warm and resinous viscosities to restrain the runaway citrus.

Longevity and sillage are both above average on me, which isn't particularly odd considering there are citric synthetics in this rather than real lemon, orange, or bergamot oils. I don't have the EDP version which, according to the reviews, resolves several of the gripes I have with this version. I think I'll get a sample.

In any case, this is a somewhat pleasant fragrance, but not full bottle worthy IMO. Treat this like a infrequent visits from your idiot cousin Vinny. Be prepared for a brash and crude welcome, and keep it restrained when you bring it to the bars.

This is truly wretched. If you want to create a mental picture of how this smells, imagine the following: a gossipy, oversocialized teenage girl sits in the driver's seat of her father's car, waiting for her homosexual male friend to return with the artificial vanilla drinks they just ordered from Starbucks. She sits there, quietly and nonchalantly applying cheap plasticy makeup in the mirror when he bounds up to her window, frightening her in the process. She yelps and drops the compact on her thighs, splattering the ionone-laden powder all over the seat and center console. "Oh my god, I'm sooo sorry!" he says and leans in the window to brush her off, spilling the corn syrup sweetened drinks inside the car in the process. "My dad is going to f*c&#^g kill me, Ja'relle. We need to clean this up now!" They pop the trunk and discover a three pack of Lysol linen-scented disinfectant wipes and an unused cannister of Febreeze. They hastily scrub at the saccharine, powdery mess now permanently imbued in the carpets with a duo of America's most disgustingly and synthetically scented consumer cleaning products. "We need to get some of those little blue tree air fresheners to cover up the smell" she remarks. He agrees and they quickly head to the nearest gas station. With a blue "New Car Scent" tree freshly hung from the rear view mirror, they head home and park the car in the garage. In uncharacteristically quiet fashion, they slink away to their friend's house down the street, unnoticed. Four hours later, her father walks into the garage so that he can grab the cleaning products that he had purchased but forgotten to remove the night prior. He pops the trunk. Not there. But wait.. what's that? He lifts his nose into the air, catching the faintest aroma of the tragedies that unfolded on his upholstery mere hours ago. He squints and sniffs a few times more, realizing that the scent is coming from inside the car. He stands up, closes the trunk door, and heads to the driver's side door. He hesistates for a second or two, and then slowly opens the door. Immediately, his eyes and nostrils are greeted by the heinous chemical abortion wrecked upon his automobile in full, synthetic, gory detail. He closes the door, and then his eyes. "I'm going to f*c&#^g kill her" he mutters under his breath.

When you dive headfirst into perfumery with little or no limits to your budget, especially the highest-end artisanal brands that distill rare, natural, and wild oud oils (e.g. Ensar Oud, Agar Aura, Areej le Dore, Bortnikoff, etc.) you quickly realize that your newfangled scent preferences have transformed so drastically that you've cursed your taste for lesser "oud" (note the quotation marks) fragrances permanently.

Haltane has no real oud in it. Rather, it's a combination of synthetic chemicals that create an "oud" accord, thus the quotation marks. This accord plus saffron and praline notes make Haltane quite sweet -- almost gourmand. It's pleasant and appeals to the masses, but it has none of the aromatic, dynamic qualities of a real oud oil fragrance that I've since become accustomed to.

As far as longevity and sillage go, Haltane is a strong performer. This sticks on clothing for a full day and can be smelled by people within 6-8 feet of you for the first few hours. People who find themselves in closed quarters after a heavy spraying of Haltane will likely find it to be cloying.

If you had asked me 3 years ago if Haltane was an excellent oud fragrance, I would have unhesitatingly told you that it is. But in the last 3 years I've bought, worn, and/or smelled dozens of pure-oud oils, attars, and high % real oud fragrances (some costing as much as $1500 per gram or $5000 per 30mL) and now there is no going back...smelling the soaring heights off REAL oud is transformative. Accordingly, one of my prior favorite fragrances has been reduced to a middling "oud" fragrance. I've been struck with the oud curse and become a fragrance snob in the process. I don't like it, but ignorance truly is bliss.

Sorry Guerlain fanatics, but this perfume is no bueno. First and foremost, the scent profile is unisex at best, if not outrightly feminine. Under no circumstances does "the ideal man" smell like a sweet almond, cherry, and vanilla cake... Sorry baguette bros, but I've got way too much testosterone flowing through me to stoop to that level. This has ZERO masculine sex appeal!

Second, to the extent the "cherry" note exists, it smells like the worst off-brand cherry cough drops, and nothing whatsoever like the fruit I love oh so much. Comingle those cough drop notes with stale, over-sugared marzipan (yuck) and you've got a this perfume 80% covered. The remaining 20% is vague christmas spices and vanilla.

The longevity of this fragrance is impressive, which is unfortunate for me because the duration of time I want to smell like a dessert is ZERO.

Like the rest of the Bortnikoff colognes, the citrus in this hits a little different. Namely, the note is that of ripe and sweet fruits, rather than the sweet and sour, if not acidic, notes that typically accompany citrus fragrances. A "dark" citrus, if you will.

The vanilla pops after the initial top notes fade away. It's gentle, natural, and well-suited for the remaining citrus notes and incoming earthy notes from the vetiver and oud.

The longevity is moderate -- I can smell it faintly 5-6 hours after dabbing it on my wrist, neck, and clothing. Sillage is not so great - doesn't seem to project beyond an arm's length and becomes a faint aura/skin scent after 3-4 hours. Definitely created a nice scent trail for those lucky enough to smell my presence downwind.