ThomC

I have been living permanently in Bulgaria for half a year and I am practically soaking up this small but historically rich country. The rose is the national flower of Bulgaria - what the tulip is for the Netherlands. A large part of the world's rose oil production takes place in the 'Rose Valley', south of the Balkan Mountains. A true, recognized quality product!
Mauboussin's 'Cristal Oud' fits perfectly! It has always been outstanding. Probably the best release for men that Mauboussin has ever launched - the price is a total joke!
I generally do not get along with oud in high summer. No. It just doesn’t fit. Cristal Oud is the big exception. Because rose combined with oud usually works. How Mauboussin manages to tastefully bring both together is a masterpiece. Not to mention the wonderfully designed bottle - minimalist, tasteful, elegant, which I would only attribute to high-price niches. But Mauboussin has always excelled in great bottles!
The scent itself is not even complex; it is kept relatively simple and wonderfully hits the theme. On the skin, it is immediately present. The development on sweaty summer skin becomes interesting! The oud comes through, even becoming a bit 'stable' smelling, which is always softened by the rose. A wonderful mélange of yin and yang, a constant shifting of the poles. Later, the musky aspect of the oud prevails, but always with a western elegant twist. Everything here feels expensive. How they managed that? Trade secret. Buying tip? Absolutely. For everyone. For use. For gifting. For loving.

Wow! Mauboussin has really launched a perfume that packs a punch, yet it hardly gets noticed. I wonder why Mauboussin flies so under the radar in Germany?

Months ago, I ordered a sample of Star for Men in a sharing group, which I initially found mediocre, but then it really opened up. I caught myself wearing Star for Men more frequently for all occasions with increasing enthusiasm - which eventually means: I need the whole bottle!

It arrived yesterday via DHL. The packaging is black with beautiful typography. Unpacking and marveling! What a fantastic bottle this is! Someone really put in the effort here. Mauboussin has often proven its ability to create extremely beautiful bottles, like the timeless triangular Pour Homme, the Pour Lui series, or the futuristic Histoire d'Eau. The evaluation of a fragrance, as we know, is not only about the nose but also about the eye. Mauboussin understands this.

The brand-new bottle of Star for Men is exceptionally well done and feels quite heavy in the hand. In the shape of a curved triangle, the edges are glossy black, while the rest alternates between matte black! And it looks pretty sexy. The cap resembles a metal crown and has a substantial weight that feels valuable in the hand. The sprayer also distributes well and feels anything but cheap. Hats off to Mauboussin! They remain true to good design.

The fragrance itself does not feel like a drugstore scent, even though it is priced at that level; it has something noble and distinctive. A slight feminine metrosexual sweetness that never becomes overwhelming. There are clear hints of pipe tobacco with a light cherry note, balanced with cinnamon and a touch of vanilla as an understatement. Notably, it doesn’t develop much on my skin, which is perfectly fine since it already comes out of the bottle well "developed." Much later, it does take on a woody twist and loses the sweetness. At least.

The scent feels well thought out. Designed with the goal of breaking out of the countless varieties available. This has been achieved. It feels elegant and refined with a certain resemblance to Herod by Parfum de Marly, only projecting more subtly, less assertively, and more wearable. The only downside I can find is its slight tendency towards modest longevity, which I can live with anytime, as the overall impression of Star is absolutely spot on!

How Mauboussin can launch this perfume for an incredible 25€ is something only they know. And how good it is, only a few scattered perfume enthusiasts without German YouTube influencers know (shame on you).

The Cheapie of the Year 2024! Wow!

I made a mistake! Not long ago, I used to evaluate perfumes almost exclusively on paper strips, and I enjoyed sniffing them that way too - just on paper strips. At some point, I came across a sample of Azzaro's Wanted because I really liked its flanker, Wanted by Night, back then and still do today. So why not try the original version if the flanker is already nice?

And indeed: the original version initially made a decent impression; yes, I had to sniff it a bit, but it fit. For summer, with an open, fluttery shirt, I thought it would be quite suitable. Fruity, ginger, citrus, synthetic. Something like that.

However, I found the extremely poor average ratings from the Parfumo community quite disturbing. On the other hand, we all know the herd instinct, which often correlates with these lousy ratings and drags down entire reviews, doing a disservice to the fragrance. This is probably the case with Azzaro's Wanted as well, I thought. So, a whole bottle was purchased by a Parfumo, cheap but at least full.

My mistake was that I - being the collector at heart - put the bottle in the corner afterward and never wore the perfume in everyday life. Occasional sniffing on paper kept me believing that I had a fun, quirky-associative scent waiting for its right moment, one that would render the bad reviews obsolete.

After a year and a half, the time had come: May 2023, 17 degrees outside, sunshine, spring feelings. Get up, head to work, and spray on Wanted.

Within 2 hours, I realized that I had made quite a bad purchase with Wanted. No amount of rationalizing helped: there was a genuine "cognitive dissonance" that could not be eliminated. On the skin, it started to annoy me more and more; well-meaning sniffing at my wrist didn’t help, and I would have preferred to jump in the shower and cover it up with some old-school chest hair scent. So, I had to suffer until the end of the workday, waiting hours for my redeeming shower. I’m someone who can usually appreciate many scents and isn’t sensitive, but here the realization hit that Wanted is indeed an incredibly poorly composed perfume that becomes really unpleasant on the skin. Unbearable for me, despite all initial sympathy. I can hardly make sense of any of the notes in the pyramid, and even if I do, it’s only with a disturbing leaden wave of poorly made synthetic. The ginger is not ginger, the lemon is not lemon, and the tonka bean is not tonka.

I have now paid my tuition: Never buy a perfume if you can’t wear it for three consecutive days in everyday life without it becoming annoying. Paper strips? Forget them!

I often forget this scent in the corner of the bathroom, collecting dust unnoticed. Its bottle is not exactly a beauty; it’s not something you want to have as a centerpiece when you have female guests. I’d rather hide it. But why exactly?

In hindsight, I can’t say, nor can I explain why I bought THIS one in particular. I believe it was because I had acquired fragrances from perfumers to discover their stylistic signatures. In the case of TL Pour Lui, that was Maurice Roucel, the smoking rock of the perfumers in France. Cool guy, broad face, reminds me of Manfred Lehmann, the voice actor for Bruce Willis. And I think I’ve picked up that Roucel, with increasing professional experience, started using fewer individual fragrance notes in his creations; making them simpler, but not necessarily plainer. Maybe that’s the coolness of age? A minimalist, if you will, and thus my brother in spirit.

TL Pour Lui is certainly one of those creations that continually captivates me. I don’t want to endorse the average ratings here. Yes, the stuff is sugary, but not to the point of annoyance, because otherwise my sensitive sugar antennas would have long gone off. It’s this strange, dry-dusty mélange of lavender, the old Rochas Man (also created by Roucel), and pleasantly smoky synthetics that allows it to meld into a unity, teetering on the edge of greatness. At least it’s crafted flawlessly.

Okay, it’s a bomber for club visits, not necessarily a delicate office companion. It wants to disturb, it wants to stand out, it wants to differentiate itself. On top of that, there’s the typical Ted Lapidus independence, once again. In an earlier statement, I compared it to the old Le Mâle, but that feels too shallow and I take it back; especially since I now prefer TL Pour Lui, as I see it as more balanced and its DNA is not as clichéd as that of the great classic from Gaultier. If I could choose twenty fragrances for a deserted island - TL Pour Lui would definitely be among them; Le Mâle would have to stay home. Any questions?

I simply like it, this slightly exaggerated character pig. It also fits the style of Maurice Roucel, who has repeatedly created quite bold and noticeable pieces with creations like "Musc Ravageur," Nautica's "Voyage," and Bogart's "Pour Homme."

These are crazy times: Young people are gluing themselves to streets, normal guys are suddenly old, white, and thus a derogatory term. The world order is currently being noticeably restructured, and I am writing a review of a flanker of an already completely unknown cheapie from Turkey. Strange.

But why am I writing this? Because it feels like the scent from 2022 that I had on my skin the most. With delight. With question marks. With attempts at explanation. With "this can't be happening." Why this ONE? The one that can sneak out of the boxing ring with a measly 6.5 points? A total cheapie for just ten euros? Hm.

Let's put it this way: The original Jagler by Hunca is already a bomb. An enormously musky one, but a successful one - worth every penny and the journey to the zeitgeist of that time. And then this unknown flanker in "Black."

How does it come across? Mellowed. More modern. Wearable. Without the club, without the 80s clubbing of the musky ox that undoubtedly characterizes the original. With Black, I initially thought: A weak number. Messed up. But it turned out not to be that at all. The (learning) curve got him compared to ---> "Prada Luna Rossa Black" for the poor. Yes, that fits better, although it comes across as more synthetic, a term I haven't considered negative for some time now. Whatever.

The Jagler Black is definitely a genuine noble universalist, without having to strive for fresh, trendy mainstream shower gel attitudes. A scent that always brings me joy, never comes across as intrusive or cheap - and despite the translucent DNA of its father, fits everywhere and at all times. For just under ten euros, it's astonishing what the Turks offer in terms of role model.