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Oh Kouros.....
... how I hated you when you hit the market in the early 80s! And the wearers of this fragrance right along with you. For years, Kouros (alongside Poison) was for me the epitome of bad, overpowering perfume. At some point, a few years ago, I don't know how or why, all my negative associations with this scent (foot sweat, etc.) suddenly flipped to the opposite, and this supposedly foul brew became a pleasantly fragrant aroma for me.
Not that I suddenly no longer perceive the animalistic side of Kouros; I do perceive it, but as something positive. Like a freshly vacated, morning-tossed bed that still smells of body warmth from sex and worn perfume - you can fling open the window to drive away the scent, but you can also snuggle back in and reminisce about past pleasures... Today, I prefer to snuggle back into bed and simply embrace this life-saturated scent, yes, enjoy it. Not too long ago, I apparently couldn't do that.
Still, Kouros remains a precarious perfume for me that I cannot wear without hesitation, meaning I have to be in a 'Kouros mood,' I have to exercise restraint when spraying it because 2 sprays are almost one too many. This perfume is so powerful and room-filling that it can quickly be perceived as too offensive.
Worn discreetly, however, it does not miss its effect, and has been positively commented on several times - at least for me.
Interestingly, Kouros is almost an absolute 'no go' in America: Chandler Burr from the New York Times once wrote that this perfume can only be worn by French people in France - in other words: those who eat stinky cheese find it chic to smell themselves... and yes, we (the Europeans) are used to smelling funky!
Addendum 3.03.2013:
Unfortunately, 'Kouros' has been reformulated in the meantime and in its current version has only a distant connection to the original. I don't know why this was done, but I suspect that the IFRA provided reasons for it, as well as a fundamentally changed taste in fragrances compared to the time of the scent's creation. The new 'Kouros' caters to this, and it remains to be seen whether lost ground can be reclaimed.
In the meantime, I stick with the old one - let people think what they want!
Addendum 20.02.2020:
In the meantime, 'Kouros' has been reformulated again. Since even the smallest amounts of atranol or chloratranol-containing oakmoss can no longer be used, almost all chypre/fougère fragrances have been reworked - mostly with better results, as more convincing substitutes are now available, as well as allergen-free (and affordable) oakmoss. 'Kouros' has oakmoss back in the formula and smells almost like it used to. Almost....
Not that I suddenly no longer perceive the animalistic side of Kouros; I do perceive it, but as something positive. Like a freshly vacated, morning-tossed bed that still smells of body warmth from sex and worn perfume - you can fling open the window to drive away the scent, but you can also snuggle back in and reminisce about past pleasures... Today, I prefer to snuggle back into bed and simply embrace this life-saturated scent, yes, enjoy it. Not too long ago, I apparently couldn't do that.
Still, Kouros remains a precarious perfume for me that I cannot wear without hesitation, meaning I have to be in a 'Kouros mood,' I have to exercise restraint when spraying it because 2 sprays are almost one too many. This perfume is so powerful and room-filling that it can quickly be perceived as too offensive.
Worn discreetly, however, it does not miss its effect, and has been positively commented on several times - at least for me.
Interestingly, Kouros is almost an absolute 'no go' in America: Chandler Burr from the New York Times once wrote that this perfume can only be worn by French people in France - in other words: those who eat stinky cheese find it chic to smell themselves... and yes, we (the Europeans) are used to smelling funky!
Addendum 3.03.2013:
Unfortunately, 'Kouros' has been reformulated in the meantime and in its current version has only a distant connection to the original. I don't know why this was done, but I suspect that the IFRA provided reasons for it, as well as a fundamentally changed taste in fragrances compared to the time of the scent's creation. The new 'Kouros' caters to this, and it remains to be seen whether lost ground can be reclaimed.
In the meantime, I stick with the old one - let people think what they want!
Addendum 20.02.2020:
In the meantime, 'Kouros' has been reformulated again. Since even the smallest amounts of atranol or chloratranol-containing oakmoss can no longer be used, almost all chypre/fougère fragrances have been reworked - mostly with better results, as more convincing substitutes are now available, as well as allergen-free (and affordable) oakmoss. 'Kouros' has oakmoss back in the formula and smells almost like it used to. Almost....
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Translated · Show original
A Masterpiece!
This fragrance has everything that a truly great scent must have: inspiration, refinement, and a brilliant composition of harmonious and dissonant elements: the fresh top notes contrasted with mint, the floral heart notes accented with spicy touches, and a strong Chypre base softened by the famous Guerlinade and a wonderfully soft leather note.
A charismatic fragrance, quirky and with an aristocratic attitude, yet not as pleasing as Habit Rouge or Heritage, which makes the scent overall a bit more complicated, but more interesting in the long run.
Jean-Paul Guerlain's masterpiece!
Addendum 15.08.2010
It is reported that J.P. Guerlain stood before the great amphitheater in El Djem during a trip to Tunisia and that this, along with the idea that horse races once took place there, fascinated him so much that he wanted to let the impressions flow into a fragrance. Thus, the arena and the past chariot races inspired him to create his scent Derby, which he initially intended to call 'Centurion' due to its ancient Roman reference. However, since that name sounded too stiff, he opted for the term 'Derby,' which is also commonly used in horse racing.
Olfactorily, the journey actually leads more towards the Maghreb than to the homeland of horse derbies, England.
At the beginning of the scent's progression, the aroma of an Arabic bazaar unfolds: fresh citrus fruits and an unusual mint open the show, paving the way for a whole cascade of aromatic spice accords, dominated by Artemisia (wormwood), allspice, nutmeg, and pepper. Some flowers join in the heart: a distinctly recognizable clove, a bit of rose, and jasmine.
In the base finally: sweet-resinous labdanum and plenty of bitter oak moss (at least in the original Derby). Alongside strong leather notes and a subtle, yet unobtrusive animalic nuance that runs through the entire fragrance. Derby is very long-lasting - even hours after application, an exquisite aroma of noble, polished wood and spice unfolds, and the entire scent progression is finely balanced: everything flows seamlessly into one another and unites into a broad and powerful river.
Many say this scent is the masculine counterpart to Mitsouko, just as Habit Rouge is considered Shalimar pour Homme - I don't quite see it that way. Derby lacks the fruitiness that is so characteristic of Mitsouko; the fragrance is incomparably spicier, and only the base - especially the old version - shows certain similarities. However, even here, Derby develops in a woodier direction, while Mitsouko distinctly unfolds its herb-fruity, bitter-mossy base structure in all phases. Nevertheless, in the relationship-rich Guerlain cosmos, Derby indeed has the most references to Mitsouko, without - in my view - simply being its masculine variant. The fragrance is just too quirky and also too independent for that.
It took Guerlain a full twenty years after the great success of Habit Rouge to launch a new men's fragrance (which is also suitable for women and is often praised hymnodically by them!) - a timeframe that no house could likely afford today. Back then, however, the market was not so overheated, and the perfumer often worked on a single fragrance for years. And in my opinion, Derby is such a fragrance that even today, in its now third version, still shows how much it has been refined and with what care it was crafted - a fragrant work of art! Unfortunately, the same care was not applied to the packaging and presentation of the fragrance: the so-called 'Eagle Bottle' was not really beautiful even back then, and the campaign under the motto 'Barbare et très civilsé' completely missed the mark in the media. The model: a middle-aged man with a prominent chin and a monstrous bow tie, somehow looking off to the upper right into nothingness. A bit too little for the hedonistic 80s - just look at how Antaeus by Chanel was advertised!
Well, however: Derby, although celebrated by critics and perfume enthusiasts, was not destined for success (perhaps the fragrance simply had too little sex appeal for its time?!) and disappeared from the shelves after just a few years. Eventually, it was only available in Paris in a new presentation, where all men's fragrances by Guerlain were briefly showcased: in the so-called Habit-Rouge bottle. Recently reworked (due to the now third restriction on oak moss), it is now part of the exclusive line 'Les Parisiennes' - as good and delicate as ever, just a bit lighter and more transparent.
Luca Turin - who counts Derby among the top ten men's fragrances - once described the relationship of the scent to its successor 'Héritage' as follows: “If Derby were the dream car... Héritage is a superb coupe...” It is also one of my dream cars.
A charismatic fragrance, quirky and with an aristocratic attitude, yet not as pleasing as Habit Rouge or Heritage, which makes the scent overall a bit more complicated, but more interesting in the long run.
Jean-Paul Guerlain's masterpiece!
Addendum 15.08.2010
It is reported that J.P. Guerlain stood before the great amphitheater in El Djem during a trip to Tunisia and that this, along with the idea that horse races once took place there, fascinated him so much that he wanted to let the impressions flow into a fragrance. Thus, the arena and the past chariot races inspired him to create his scent Derby, which he initially intended to call 'Centurion' due to its ancient Roman reference. However, since that name sounded too stiff, he opted for the term 'Derby,' which is also commonly used in horse racing.
Olfactorily, the journey actually leads more towards the Maghreb than to the homeland of horse derbies, England.
At the beginning of the scent's progression, the aroma of an Arabic bazaar unfolds: fresh citrus fruits and an unusual mint open the show, paving the way for a whole cascade of aromatic spice accords, dominated by Artemisia (wormwood), allspice, nutmeg, and pepper. Some flowers join in the heart: a distinctly recognizable clove, a bit of rose, and jasmine.
In the base finally: sweet-resinous labdanum and plenty of bitter oak moss (at least in the original Derby). Alongside strong leather notes and a subtle, yet unobtrusive animalic nuance that runs through the entire fragrance. Derby is very long-lasting - even hours after application, an exquisite aroma of noble, polished wood and spice unfolds, and the entire scent progression is finely balanced: everything flows seamlessly into one another and unites into a broad and powerful river.
Many say this scent is the masculine counterpart to Mitsouko, just as Habit Rouge is considered Shalimar pour Homme - I don't quite see it that way. Derby lacks the fruitiness that is so characteristic of Mitsouko; the fragrance is incomparably spicier, and only the base - especially the old version - shows certain similarities. However, even here, Derby develops in a woodier direction, while Mitsouko distinctly unfolds its herb-fruity, bitter-mossy base structure in all phases. Nevertheless, in the relationship-rich Guerlain cosmos, Derby indeed has the most references to Mitsouko, without - in my view - simply being its masculine variant. The fragrance is just too quirky and also too independent for that.
It took Guerlain a full twenty years after the great success of Habit Rouge to launch a new men's fragrance (which is also suitable for women and is often praised hymnodically by them!) - a timeframe that no house could likely afford today. Back then, however, the market was not so overheated, and the perfumer often worked on a single fragrance for years. And in my opinion, Derby is such a fragrance that even today, in its now third version, still shows how much it has been refined and with what care it was crafted - a fragrant work of art! Unfortunately, the same care was not applied to the packaging and presentation of the fragrance: the so-called 'Eagle Bottle' was not really beautiful even back then, and the campaign under the motto 'Barbare et très civilsé' completely missed the mark in the media. The model: a middle-aged man with a prominent chin and a monstrous bow tie, somehow looking off to the upper right into nothingness. A bit too little for the hedonistic 80s - just look at how Antaeus by Chanel was advertised!
Well, however: Derby, although celebrated by critics and perfume enthusiasts, was not destined for success (perhaps the fragrance simply had too little sex appeal for its time?!) and disappeared from the shelves after just a few years. Eventually, it was only available in Paris in a new presentation, where all men's fragrances by Guerlain were briefly showcased: in the so-called Habit-Rouge bottle. Recently reworked (due to the now third restriction on oak moss), it is now part of the exclusive line 'Les Parisiennes' - as good and delicate as ever, just a bit lighter and more transparent.
Luca Turin - who counts Derby among the top ten men's fragrances - once described the relationship of the scent to its successor 'Héritage' as follows: “If Derby were the dream car... Héritage is a superb coupe...” It is also one of my dream cars.
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Translated · Show original
Nevertheless....
.... good ole Mitsouko may not be quite as oakmossy anymore - I still love it! I believe Eduard Fléchier really did a great job, and the alternative would have been to stop producing Mitsouko altogether (as has now happened with Parure!). No, I am glad it is still here, still wonderfully herb-bitter smelling - but I am also glad to possess so much old Mitsouko in all concentrations that it will probably last me several more lifetimes! Yes, and if I were ever forced - God forbid! - to choose just one perfume, I would resolutely reach for Mitsouko amidst loud protest, because without Mitsouko, it just doesn't work!
To the men: Please try the new Mitsouko EdT, the probably most masculine version of Mitsouko that has ever existed - it simply smells fantastic on men's skin!
Addendum, 13.01.11:
Speaking of concentrations: By now, I have tested all the new Mitsouko variations (EdT, EdP, and Parfum) over and over again, and I can't shake the suspicion that they are constantly tinkering with it. The latest 'batches' suddenly smell a bit more mossy again, although still - albeit somewhat less - bread-like than the last ones, after the comprehensive reformulation by Edouard Fléchier. Have they now decided to use Orcinyl 3 or Evernyl (or Veramoss, an oakmoss substitute) more generously?
On the other hand, the latest Mitsoukos (especially the EdT) also smell quite restrained, as if all the non-mossy notes have been toned down to give the mossy ones more prominence.
Currently, the EdP seems the most balanced - the previously somewhat loud peach note has been toned down a bit, now standing in better balance with the floral-spicy heart notes and the bitter base, which furthermore reveals a delicate animalic accent.
The Parfum, on the other hand, offers - like the old Extrait - the full, now new (thus more iris-focused) Mitsouko sound, which is accompanied by an almost tar-like aroma. I don't know if this tar facet is inherent to the oakmoss substitutes or if it was intentionally added to give more weight to the dark-bitter undertone of the perfume - it is certainly irritating. However, after some time, it increasingly merges with the other notes, and the perfume develops similarly to the EdP.
For Mitsouko lovers like me, these constant, albeit sometimes minimal changes are quite a jumble and a burden. On the other hand, I can also understand that a fragrance with such a history (the quintessential Chypre fragrance - a legend like no other!) must be painstakingly restored after such an assault, like the more or less complete ban on its existentially important ingredient. Little by little, it seems they want to approach the old versions (but which ones, there are so many!?) while simultaneously working on more adequate substitutes for the incriminated oakmoss and tree moss. So what will come next?
Mitsouko has been tampered with so many times - for example, in the 70s when a large part of the nitro musk compounds was banned, or at the beginning of the 90s when the use of oakmoss was once again severely restricted and they generally switched to the supposedly less dangerous tree moss, and most recently a few years ago when the latest IFRA regulations heralded the end of the classic Chypres. Time and again, Mitsouko has survived, somehow, and with sometimes serious injuries, and it has probably been on the chopping block more than once. That they ultimately decided against taking it off the market (like the aforementioned Parure) honors Guerlain, but it also constantly exposes the house to accusations of mutilating one of its own masterpieces.
This masterpiece was created by Jacques Guerlain with the help of the synthetic aldehyde C-14, which smells like herbaceous peach. He integrated it into the Chypre concept developed by François Coty (whose Chypre was supposed to be a rather bitter brew) and thus created a delicately shifting perfume between fruity and bitter. These two cornerstones were somewhat intact until recently. Now, however, one of them is quite battered, and since then they have been trying to limit the damage.
Mitsouko will probably never smell the way Jacques Guerlain created it, and the question of whether it would have been better, given the significant interventions, to create a new fragrance in the spirit of Mitsouko (see Opium or Acqua di Parma's Profumo) instead of trying to save the old one at all costs, is a valid one.
However, I cannot answer it, as I am somewhat satisfied with the new Mitsouko, even though I grew up with the old one, which is more familiar and a bit dearer to me. Future generations, however, will not know the old one at all (the possibilities for that are quite limited, as Mitsouko is one of the fragrances that unfortunately do not age well - it oxidizes quite quickly) and one day will only have the new Mitsouko aroma in their noses.
No matter.
We do not need to pity them, because who knows if one day it will smell just like it used to. And until then, we still have the new one - and it is damn good!
To the men: Please try the new Mitsouko EdT, the probably most masculine version of Mitsouko that has ever existed - it simply smells fantastic on men's skin!
Addendum, 13.01.11:
Speaking of concentrations: By now, I have tested all the new Mitsouko variations (EdT, EdP, and Parfum) over and over again, and I can't shake the suspicion that they are constantly tinkering with it. The latest 'batches' suddenly smell a bit more mossy again, although still - albeit somewhat less - bread-like than the last ones, after the comprehensive reformulation by Edouard Fléchier. Have they now decided to use Orcinyl 3 or Evernyl (or Veramoss, an oakmoss substitute) more generously?
On the other hand, the latest Mitsoukos (especially the EdT) also smell quite restrained, as if all the non-mossy notes have been toned down to give the mossy ones more prominence.
Currently, the EdP seems the most balanced - the previously somewhat loud peach note has been toned down a bit, now standing in better balance with the floral-spicy heart notes and the bitter base, which furthermore reveals a delicate animalic accent.
The Parfum, on the other hand, offers - like the old Extrait - the full, now new (thus more iris-focused) Mitsouko sound, which is accompanied by an almost tar-like aroma. I don't know if this tar facet is inherent to the oakmoss substitutes or if it was intentionally added to give more weight to the dark-bitter undertone of the perfume - it is certainly irritating. However, after some time, it increasingly merges with the other notes, and the perfume develops similarly to the EdP.
For Mitsouko lovers like me, these constant, albeit sometimes minimal changes are quite a jumble and a burden. On the other hand, I can also understand that a fragrance with such a history (the quintessential Chypre fragrance - a legend like no other!) must be painstakingly restored after such an assault, like the more or less complete ban on its existentially important ingredient. Little by little, it seems they want to approach the old versions (but which ones, there are so many!?) while simultaneously working on more adequate substitutes for the incriminated oakmoss and tree moss. So what will come next?
Mitsouko has been tampered with so many times - for example, in the 70s when a large part of the nitro musk compounds was banned, or at the beginning of the 90s when the use of oakmoss was once again severely restricted and they generally switched to the supposedly less dangerous tree moss, and most recently a few years ago when the latest IFRA regulations heralded the end of the classic Chypres. Time and again, Mitsouko has survived, somehow, and with sometimes serious injuries, and it has probably been on the chopping block more than once. That they ultimately decided against taking it off the market (like the aforementioned Parure) honors Guerlain, but it also constantly exposes the house to accusations of mutilating one of its own masterpieces.
This masterpiece was created by Jacques Guerlain with the help of the synthetic aldehyde C-14, which smells like herbaceous peach. He integrated it into the Chypre concept developed by François Coty (whose Chypre was supposed to be a rather bitter brew) and thus created a delicately shifting perfume between fruity and bitter. These two cornerstones were somewhat intact until recently. Now, however, one of them is quite battered, and since then they have been trying to limit the damage.
Mitsouko will probably never smell the way Jacques Guerlain created it, and the question of whether it would have been better, given the significant interventions, to create a new fragrance in the spirit of Mitsouko (see Opium or Acqua di Parma's Profumo) instead of trying to save the old one at all costs, is a valid one.
However, I cannot answer it, as I am somewhat satisfied with the new Mitsouko, even though I grew up with the old one, which is more familiar and a bit dearer to me. Future generations, however, will not know the old one at all (the possibilities for that are quite limited, as Mitsouko is one of the fragrances that unfortunately do not age well - it oxidizes quite quickly) and one day will only have the new Mitsouko aroma in their noses.
No matter.
We do not need to pity them, because who knows if one day it will smell just like it used to. And until then, we still have the new one - and it is damn good!
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