MuckiMango

As a great fan of British clothing labels, music, (sub-)culture, humor, and the associated lifestyle, the house of Penhaligon's has long held a great fascination for me (the objectivity of this review can and must therefore be called into question).
I still vividly remember how, as a teenager, I couldn't take my eyes off that one shelf in the local perfumery: beautiful flacons adorned with a pearl cap on top and a ribbon around the neck. They stood there, so noble and exalted, like old aristocrats among the nouveau riche, glittering oligarch's sons. Back then, I didn't dare to ask for a test - I couldn't have afforded it anyway.

Years later, with thousands of Parfumo points and an imaginary shelf full of bronze and golden trophies bolstering my fragrance ego, I made a new attempt. The goal was to test the new "Portraits - The Omniscient Mister Thompson | Penhaligon's," for which I had, of course, researched sufficiently in advance to be prepared for the obligatory olfactory discussions with the local perfumery saleswoman. After impressively proving to the lady that she was dealing with a seasoned Parfumo enthusiast and not a misguided Jeremy disciple in search of the next panty-dropper, I received the green light, and the "may I show you something beautiful?" panty was finally dropped. I diligently tested my way through all the shelves but kept finding my way back to the beautiful pearl-capped bottles. In the end, I left with various samples, a spritz of "Trade Routes Collection - Halfeti | Penhaligon's" on one arm, and a spritz of Endymion Concentré on the other, blissfully heading home to explore their development:

Endymion Concentré opens with a fresh-soft accord of bergamot, sage, and lavender, consistently accompanied by a subtly bitter leather note. As it develops, the fresh components fade, and the fragrance becomes leathery-soft with a homeopathic spiciness of incense and nutmeg. It indeed has a somewhat "shower gel" quality. However, not from an Axe "72H COOL SUPERPOWER ALL DAY LONG" wake-up kick, but much more like a relaxing aroma shower foam from a skilled natural cosmetics manufacturer. The ever-present but never overwhelming bitter leather note also takes away the perceived shower gel triviality, making it distinctive and special.

My expectation for a good perfume is to be perceived as pleasantly scented but not perfumed. And Endymion Concentré is exactly such a candidate - a British gentleman, not an Italian loudmouth. Balanced, finely tuned, so quiet yet so elegant at the same time. A calming understatement. However, this understatement has a catch: the longevity is not the best. With 4-5 sprays, I only perceive nuances of the fragrance after about 5 hours, which is certainly something to improve considering the MSRP.

The design of the flacon perfectly captures the associations I have with the fragrance: the bittersweet melancholy of a starry full moon night. The story of Endymion, the eternally youthful lover of the moon goddess Selene. To preserve him from death, Selene puts him into eternal sleep in a cave on Mount Latmos, granting him eternal youth. Every night, she comes to him in the cave and bears him a total of fifty daughters. So, indeed a panty-dropper.

Anyone who doesn't place great value on beast mode and is looking for a calm yet special, elegant, and pleasing fragrance with signature potential should take a closer look at "Endymion Concentré | Penhaligon's."

With red wine and pralines, I now retreat back to my lonely Corona cave, hoping for eternal youth, a visit from the beautiful Selene, and a star lawyer for family law.

I wish you all a reflective holiday season!

For a long time, I was searching for a fresh and uncomplicated summer fragrance. Various representatives were tested: Dior Homme Cologne (2013), Versace Man Eau Fraîche Eau de Toilette, Bigarade Concentrée, Silver Mountain Water, Pacific Rock Moss, Costa Azzurra Eau de Parfum - just to name a few.

And none could convince me. Most of them had terrible longevity or the price-performance ratio just didn’t match for such a supposedly simple and uncomplicated scent profile.
So it happened that I, more ironically than seriously, sprayed the classic Cool Water Eau de Toilette once again in the drugstore.

What can I say… I was stunned. I hadn’t smelled it in ages, and it immediately brought back memories of school parties, long days by the lake, and the carefree summers of my youth (born in '89).

Aside from the nostalgia, I quickly realized that the good Davidoff actually fulfills exactly what I was looking for: no toilet bowl citrus, unobtrusive, versatile, and a pleasant feeling of freshness even in high temperatures. The longevity is certainly not outstanding here either, but I find it significantly better than other competitors that are quite a bit more expensive. And at €20 for 75ml, you can spray it on without a care.

I find it particularly strong that the name is truly fitting: Cool Water smells like a jump into the cold sea on a hot summer day. The extended shower, as my predecessor already mentioned. With many other fragrances that have "Costa," "Pacific," "Azzurro," and similar marine associations on their bottles, I could only conditionally or not at all recognize this aquatic quality.

In any case, I am glad to have it back and was reminded of a (slightly rephrased) proverb:

"Perfumes are like friends. When you are young, you can’t get enough of them. With age, you realize that it’s always the same ones with whom you feel most comfortable."

I received Aigner Black for Men Eau de Toilette as a free addition to a Souk order. Since the ordered samples were initially more interesting to me, it spent a long time in solitary confinement in the sample grab box. Recently, I stumbled upon it again and sprayed it on.

I was quite surprised because the approximately 1ml remaining in the small plastic sprayer with a handwritten label had quite a punch. My nose detects a pleasant mélange of powdery-metallic notes, light vanilla/tonka bean, a bit of dark leather, and also the much-cited pencil notes. The listed citrus top notes are completely absent for me. The progression is quite linear; musk and tonka bean become more dominant while the metallic-herbaceous notes fade a bit into the background. I find the scent very distinctive; I haven't smelled anything comparable until now. The metallic pencil notes (which is probably the styrax) make it seem rather cool and distant, while musk and tonka bean bring it back into balance with their warm, embracing notes. At the same time, any form of sweetness is kept at bay (which I find very positive), and the scent overall feels very dry, yes, somehow also a bit powdery (even though no iris is included).
I also recognize certain parallels outside the fragrance pyramid to "Encre Noire (Eau de Toilette) | Lalique." It could indeed be the more open-minded brother of the black ink, as both scents have a somewhat mystical and dark quality in their own way. However, the Aigner comes across as more positive and pleasing, which is probably due to the musk and tonka bean. The often-mentioned cemetery/sacred notes (cypress + vetiver) of Encre Noire are completely absent here. This makes the scent significantly more suitable for everyday wear for me. The sillage is pleasant (you are noticed but not "blasted"), and the longevity is acceptable for me at 6-7 hours with 4 sprays. Since you can get the 125ml for 25 to 30 €, I didn't have to think long and ordered a bottle.

The bottle is very high quality, heavy, and has an extraordinary design. The cap is made of weighted plastic, and the top is covered with black (artificial) leather embossed with the Aigner logo. Très chic.

Conclusion: with "Aigner Black for Men (Eau de Toilette) | Aigner," you get a special, balanced scent with a fantastic price-performance ratio. If, like me, you prefer classic masculine scents that are a bit darker and drier rather than sweet, you might find this one to be a good choice.

When you start to engage with perfume(s), you quickly realize that the expectations a good perfume must meet can be simplified into two camps:

1.) A perfume should primarily smell pleasing/good/attractive to the preferred gender. Metrics here can include received compliments and the versatility of the scent's use.

2.) A perfume is a work of art, and the perfumer is an artist. A good perfume should take you on a "journey," tell a story, and be as creative and, above all, unique/individual/special as possible.

Both approaches make absolute sense to me and yield great scents. However, my collection increasingly features fragrances from category one.
An extreme example of why scents from category two are rather rare would be These Miscegenic Three: Othello: with a mix of stinky oud, rancid dahlias, and a slight hint of cat pee, the artist takes us on a journey into the tortured soul of the "Moor of Venice." Great idea, but for the love of all that is good: I do not want to "rub" this story in the faces of my fellow humans. I also don’t sit in the office listening to Master Of Puppets at full blast.

Dior Homme (2020) Eau de Toilette is, for me, a prime example of a top-tier fragrance from category one. When I wear it, my well-being improves in no time. The woody freshness gives one a masculine elegance without being too intrusive. Freshly washed without being "shower-gel" like. Many may see it differently, but: if you know a shower gel that smells like this - drop it in the comments! I’ll order a whole palette right away. Admittedly, natural scent notes are hard to detect here. It definitely leans towards a synthetic direction, which one must appreciate. You can't expect a grand journey or exciting story from it. The scent progression is linear as fuck, and that's just fine.
And yes, the dreaded compliments... Once used by the old Jeremy as the number one metric for any fragrance, it sometimes gives the impression that it is absolutely amateurish for a seasoned perfumer/a to take joy in them, let alone mention them in a review. Be that as it may: this fragrance receives endless compliments, and I cherish each one.

A few final thoughts on the "THIS IS NOT MY DIOR HOMME ANYMORE!!11!!" lamentations:
Would it not be presumptuous for a house like Dior to olfactorily interpret the man in 2020 exactly the same way as in 2011?
Is it generally conceivable that Dior Homme 2020 does not mean "Dior Homme 2011 in a new version" but rather "The men's fragrance from Dior for the year 2020"?
How nice is it of Dior to continue the old versions in nearly the same formulation, so that everyone can still have "their Dior Homme"?

I think the 2020 version is great and I enjoy wearing it for almost any occasion and every season. My go-to and signature.

Not too long ago, I wrote a review sharing my impressions of the tried-and-true classic Drakkar Noir Eau de Toilette - for whatever reason, perhaps it was just an algorithm, Parfumo featured the review on the homepage, and I was bombarded with countless trophies and comments. This made me very happy - yes, a bit proud - and certainly contributed significantly to my rekindling a long-neglected hobby of writing.
But what does all this chatter have to do with Bon Monsieur?

Dear Pollita commented: "You absolutely have to try Bon Monsieur by Rogue. It comes very close to the vintage." Since I greatly value her expertise, I wanted to follow up on that immediately. Unfortunately, it wasn't so easy, as the Souk drawer of the fragrance was yawningly empty. No matter. Subscribe, duck down, and wait - as soon as something pops up: strike uncompromisingly.
I wanted to spend the waiting time getting to know the house and the mind behind it better. Manuel Cross, a Californian born in 1974, went from cook to perfumer as a self-taught individual. The image search confirms the impression of the story: a cool gentleman with a mustache who can get things done. Fred Perry sweater, Working Class Hero - the sympathy values skyrocketed. You know the feeling: I have to test this fragrance. Now!

So I asked Pollita if she knew anyone who owned the fragrance and might be able to send me a sample. Promptly, I received a contact and was once again speechless at how amazing this community is! A super nice contact, as it turned out a professional colleague, and a few days later, an envelope with Bon Monsieur and other samples was in my mailbox.

I expected a slightly longer-lasting version of Drakkar Noir, but Mr. Cross immediately corrected my cheeky assumption with an olfactory slap of respect - HOLY SHIT! YOU ARE NOW ENTERING A WORLD OF GREATNESS:

A brilliantly bright lavender, carried by a beautiful bergamot, as pure and fresh as it could be, creates an almost visible aura around my forearm. This is how the shepherd children of Fatima must have felt when the holy Mary, Mother of God, appeared to them (well, maybe they just ate the wrong mushrooms, but that's another story...).
The fragrance remains quite linear as it develops, with slight green/mossy and woody notes coming in later. What dominates throughout, however, is the radiant clean aura that surrounds you. This is far removed from any citrus, fabric softener, or shower gel qualities. It is the combination of lavender and bergamot. This astonishes me greatly, as anyone who knows my review of Strawanza knows that I have been searching for a nice fougère for a long time but simply couldn't find one. The problem was always the lavender, which in everything I encountered smelled old-fashioned, musty, and like a dead grandpa in an armchair in front of flower wallpaper. The composition in Bon Monsieur takes away all these negative attributes from the lavender and elevates it to the Olympus of timelessness - as my predecessor already said: A gentleman of eternity.

The sillage is just right for me. No aromatic brass band entering the room in front of you and playing a few encores while you've already left. At a distance of under a meter, you can perceive it pleasantly with 4-5 sprays for up to 8 hours. For myself, it always gives me the aforementioned feeling of an aura of absolute purity and impeccably groomed masculinity when I wear it. Like a kind of halo. To stay in the sacred imagery: perhaps it was divine providence that the Parfumo contact offered his bottle for sale a few weeks later and I was quick enough.

Now, there is a deduction for the bottle. We are indeed in a somewhat upscale price segment (30ml costs around €90). I find the transparent, lightweight plastic cap simply weak. This might also be because I own a few dupes that use exactly the same caps. Nevertheless, I find the black and gold caps of the old batches significantly more successful and much better suited to the overall image of the brand. Please improve this, Mr. Cross. Update from January 2024: My prayers have been answered. Rogue has switched back to the old caps!

For those who made it this far: thank you for reading! I hope I was able to inspire some of you to try this special fragrance.