Comme des Garçons: Original

A good ten years before I started collecting perfume in earnest, I visited New York, and made a stop at Barney's. I'd always loved perfume but I didn't wear it much, if ever. I had an old bottle of Coriandre and a few other things, and I kept these in the bathroom cabinet, back when there was room to do such a thing. I'm not sure what I was doing at Barney's, or why I felt it necessary to go - but Comme des Garçons had just come out, and it was heavily represented on the first floor, and there wasn't much time wasted between smelling it and purchasing it.

A few years later, I gave my practically full bottle away. A friend really loved it, and it was hard to make an argument with myself for keeping it, given I never wore it. Several years later, once I had quite a few fragrances, so much that there was no more room in the bathroom cabinet, I was in said friend's bathroom and saw my old bottle of Comme des Garçons sitting there on the counter. I smelled it again and tried to remember why I'd thought it rational in any way to part with it. Within a few weeks I'd purchased another bottle online.

Marc Buxton created this fragrance in 1994, and while there might have been a few things like it at the time, I'd never smelled them. Intensely woody and spicy, Comme des Garçons explores now standard territory for niche (and even mainstream) perfumery - CDG itself has investigated nearly every facet represented here in its own range of perfumes since - and yet, nearly fifteen years later, the fragrance smells entirely new each time I smell it.

Interviewed upon its release, Buxton spoke of the freedom he was given - and the responsibility that came with it. Given carte blanche creatively, he was limited only by his conviction that the fragrance should be something one could, and would want to, wear. It is wearable, but also stratifying. The alleged medicinal aspects of Comme des Garçons waver on a line that divides opinion. That said, this is no Secretions Magnifiques. I say alleged because I've never gotten any such medicinal thing smelling it. I get woods (sandalwood, cedar), spices (cardamom, clove, cinnamon, nutmeg, pepper, coriander), incense (frankincense), honey, and something which conjures rose. The overall impression for me is something as boozy and illicit as a prohibition speakeasy - a little wood, a little leather, the sense of something you wear with the intent of getting yourself into some trouble.

Comme des Garçons is long lasting but not hugely diffusive on me. It falls into a category I have no name for in my collection but which includes Black Cashmere, L'Air du Desert Marocain, Yatagan, Norma Kamali Incense, Monk, Moschino de Moschino, and Jubilation XXV, among others. What is that category, exactly? You'd have to tell me. When I feel like what CDG has to offer, nothing else, not Lutens, Montale, the Incense Series, or even any other fragrance in this loose category will do. Of all the interesting things Marc Buxton has done, this remains my favorite.

Third Man by Caron

It shocks me sometimes how many fragrances I love but haven't gotten around to reviewing. Maybe I wear and love them so much that I just imagine I have. The fact that I rarely review masculines, on the other hand, isn't so shocking. Can anyone blame me, with so few worth talking about? Certainly the department store is a wasteland of mediocrity, though the wasteland has less terrain than it once did. Lately I've noticed an alarming reduction of stock at the counters--empty shelves, things shifting around, more dead space between the bottles. The most exciting thing I smelled in the last several weeks was Givenchy Play Intense, and that was essentially a redux of Rochas Man. Slim pickings, for sure.

Warning: I strongly advise against smelling Caron's Third Man alongside or anywhere near nine out of ten so-called masculines. All kinds of trippy mental-emotional adjustments might ensue. Third Man is really just too lovely for this world, according to many. It does have some weird, spectral quality to it, part floral, part piquant, but its uniqueness among masculines hardly makes it a feminine, however often you'll be told otherwise. Trust me: women know the difference. The comments I receive from the ladies have always been strictly of scientific interest to me, but I can tell you that I have never worn Third Man or even opened the bottle in the presence of a woman without being made aware of the stuff's aphrodisiac properties and the implications of my gender.

Third Man references various feminine compositions the way John Travolta's long hair and bedroom eyes referenced female "sensitivity" in the seventies. Caron's third masculine, it teeters like no other male fragrance on a line very few had the balls to venture. Even now, twenty-five years later, masculines approach this line not by walking it but by blurring it. Third Man is a magic act, an ode to classic male beauty, capturing it in a perfect contrapuntal pose, one shoulder still dipping into childish androgyny, the other pointing toward manhood. Some will tell you that the high shoulder isn't quite reaching high enough. For me, it's all just so, and just right. I can't remember a time Third Man struck me as too girly--yet I wouldn't call it a dandy fragrance either. It doesn't have an arch bone in its body, nor does it have a deliberate sense of Wildean irony.

I've seen the notes listed as oakmoss, vetiver, clove, lavender, coriander, bergamot, and citron. I've also seen anise, geranium and carnation, though I'd be hard pressed to identify them. The clove is used subtly. I've smelled an older bottle of Third Man, and I actually prefer the current formulation, which seems both softer and more crystalline to me, its structure more clearly defined. Its dulcet allure relates interestingly to Pour un Homme, another classic Caron masculine, while having very little relation to Yatagan and Anarchiste. The lasting power is impressive, and on my skin it goes through the kind of subtle permutations of development one would expect from such an impossibly lovely composition, the smell of dewy jasmine and the last faint traces of quality after shave on a starched tux. Best of all, you can get a 4.2 ounce bottle online for somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty bucks.

Swap Meet: Nahema, Nu, Encre Noire, Yatagan, Azuree, et al.

Late last month, Brian sent Abigail a package of decants from his collection. Abigail had already mailed Brian several herself, including samples from the Bond No. 9, Ava Luxe, and Serge Lutens lines. When Brian arrived in LA for the premiere of his movie, for instance, a package was waiting at the front desk. He ripped it open so quickly that the Bois de Violette he'd been dying to smell flew out of his hand and, hitting the ground, shattered inside its plastic zip lock; a strange bit of deja vu, considering the Bois de Violette was meant to make up for a small vial of his late grandmother's violet perfume, broken in much the same way.

Brian and Abigail talk about perfume every day, all day, as if perfumes were celebrities who just had martian babies. Sometimes they talk on the phone. I Smell Therefore I Am is a record of their friendship, seen through the prism of perfume. Their correspondence over the decants they've traded are a good transcript of this friendship in action, and we present some of it here as an example of the way a shared passion can quickly become about more than itself; a reason to keep in touch, if nothing else:



BRAIN BRIAN BRAIN BRIAN!!!!!!!

I received your package today. It came about 1 hour ago. The postman rang the doorbell because there were 2 other boxes (I did my part this week to help the economy). Dogs barking and leaping everywhere and in the midst of it all...lots of perfume.

I have so far opened everything. I'm overwhelmed and haven't smelled a thing. I'm sitting here with all these vials in front of me. I haven't smelled 99.9% of them ever in my life! Which is incredibly exciting. I don't know what to do first.

Is the Givenchy III vintage?
Nahema has been on my mind.
Guerlain Vetiver and FM Vetiver have been on my mind.
I *almost* bought Balmain Jolie Madame from parfum1 but didn't.
Did you buy Washington Tremlett from Luckyscent while you were in LA?
Yatagan!
M7!
Encre Noire!! (have wanted this for ages)

I'm giddy. I need to go lay down. Take a nap. This will take me about a week - to get through all of these.

THANK YOU SO MUCH :-D
Abby xxoo


Hi Abby,

Awesome!

It's nice to know I've given you at least some of the thrill your packages gave me.

The Givenchy III is old, yeah. I'd love to smell the new one to compare.

When you said you were into vetiver lately I figured I'd take a chance and put a lot in. There are other frags I have which use vetiver heavily but I started with the straight ups.

I also figured you'd want to smell Nahema, though my hopes weren't high it would make you a Guerlain convert. Still, I think Nahema, of the older ones, is less powdery. It has a curious aspect the others like Mitsouko, Chamade, L'Heure and Jicky don't. The sample I sent is perfume de toilette, whatever that means.

Tremlett I bought in LA yeah. I left the store without it then returned because I knew I'd regret not getting it. I'm not sure, still, what I think about it. There's a sour note in it which isn't bad to my nose, and it's a strange smell. The other night I smelled an empty container of mints and realized that might be the note in there I can't place, something minty. People say it's floral and I'm not sure I get that. Sometimes yes, sometimes no.

Encre Noire I got in LA too. I've obsessed over it since first smelling it in March at Perfume House in Portland. It smells a lot like Vetiver Extraordinaire. Weirdly, their differences are tonal somehow. It's as if they're the same cologne with different color filters on them, bringing out different moods. I do think Encre is more peppery.

I can't wait to hear what you think of them. More where that came from, naturally.

x
Brian


Brian,

OK, here's the status update:

I love Guerlain Vetiver. It's so refreshing compared to the vetivers I've tried lately, I know there are two different types, the citrusy and the earthy - this is the citrusy and it's nice.

I love Balmain Ivoire. It changes a great deal from first spritz to dry down. This is a happy scent. Fresh, happy and pampered. It's also wearable and doesn't seem like it could be offensive to anyone in an office or whatever.

I am just about touching myself over Nu. I love the soft pepper.

There is no doubt that I Hate No 19. However, I LOVE Bois des Iles. It's soft woods with a touch of powder and florals. So soft compared with other Chanels. BdI is well-behaved, understated and classy. It does not scream Chanel to my nose (Like No.'s 5, 19 and 22 do for me). I often forget that I like Coco and Coco Mademoiselle, too, but I only wear Coco M to interviews and formal events. BdI (aside from Cuir de Russie) is the nicest Chanel I've ever smelled.

Abigail


Abby,

I have tons more to send you but will hold off a little while you soak these in. It doesn't surprise me you dislike No. 19 (I LOVE it, of course, thanks to galbanum) but I'm shocked you like Ivoire at all. I secretly hoped, but never dreamed you would.

I love NU. All out of proportion. .Pour un Homme I love because it's the cologne my mother's young French husband wore. And he wore a LOT, like most Frenchmen. I knew it instantly when I smelled it for the first time at the Korean store. I immediately recognized it. Shot right back into my brain.

x
Brian


Brian,

Right now I'm utterly confused. I THINK I'm wearing Nahema and the Fig & Vetiver one. There's no way you like the Fig & Vetiver - it doesn't seem interesting enough for you. It's realistic and smells like Fig & Vetiver. It's nice. I can see wearing it in the heat of summer for a refreshing spritz.

Nahema. Odd one... it kinda smells like medicine and makes my nasal passages feel numb.

My dog is wearing Ivoire.

Do you think it's galbanum that I hate? No. 19 was wretched for me. But if Ivoire contains galbanum it can't be true because I looove it. It's awesomely spicy and green and medicinal in the dry down.

I agree with you. Nu is in a class by itself. It's a masterpiece. The pepper is done so well - it's not sneezy - even though it's quite present. I can see sniffing yourself constantly while wearing Nu.

Abigail



Abby,

Yeah I was wondering the same thing about you and galbanum. I'll have to send you more g scents to figure it out. Ivoire uses galbanum with exceptional subtlety. So does Anais Anais. When I learned Anais has galbanum it suddenly made total sense to me and I now feel very protective of it. Have you smelled Alliage? It's the mother of all galbanum scents. If you hate it, you probably dislike galbanum because it IS galbanum the way Coke is cola.

You're totally right about the Anthusa. It totally bores me. You are the first one to wear it out of that bottle. I smelled it for the first time since I got it at TJ Max when I decanted it for you and I was like, okay, it's nice, but I can't imagine wearing it with so many other smells I have and love at my disposal.

Nu made me a major fan of Jacques Cavallier. I've smelled just about everything he's done.

Kingdom is him too I believe. I LOVE it and bought three 100 ml bottles at a discount store. I wear it a lot.

The Frenchman divorced my mom once he got his citizenship. He was a heel but had awesome taste. Very very French and hot and just DOUSED himself in cologne, which I loved. So did all his friends. I suspect he was bisexual, which doesn't necessarily mean anything.

x
Brian



Brian,

re: your feeling protective of Anais Anais. That's interesting.

Now that I think about it I feel protective of Amarige. Also Angel (and I don't ever wear Angel). And Lou Lou. And Ungaro Diva. Have you ever smelled this stuff? It was my first real perfume purchase at 14. I haven't smelled Diva in about 18 years and I imagine I'd hate it, but perhaps not. I love the bottle. I also feel protective of Poison. I bathed in Poison when I was 17. The inside of my powder blue ford escort (named Nelly) reeeeked of Poison. I also had huge puffy bangs, 2 inches of blue eyeliner and blue mascara, skin tight Guess jeans and massive clunky belts and earrings. Huh, most of my protected scents are powerhouse 80's frags. I don't feel protective or give a shit about anything niche.

I just realized that Dominique Ropion created both FM Carnal Flower and Amarige. Do you have the other Alexander McQ - My Queen? D.R created that too.

What is this patchouli frag you sent me? It smells pretty much like straight up patchouli. I love it.

very quick status update:

Guerlain Vetiver: like
FM Vetiver: love x10
Le Feu d'Issey: hate. gagging. could this be mislabeled?! it smells nothing like the reviews. i didn't read any reviews until after an hour when I couldn't take it anymore and needed to know what the heck this wretched stuff was... (i know you didn't mislabel it, it's just atrocious on me).

just scrubbed everything off and reapplied Ivoire and Nu....loooove these 2.

Abigail




Abby,

yeah Feu is challenging. I admire it but find it sort of unwearable, personally. It's like carbonated orange juice and milk got together and decided to screw with people's heads.

I'm so glad you like the vets and Nu. Was hoping you'd be into the latter. I'll send you a bigger decant of it now that I know.

x
Brian



Brian,

2 more:

M7 and Dzing.

I like M7. Yup, there's a point when it smells like flat coca cola but that vanishes and now it's just weird and I like it. Peppery. Likeable & wearable. I can see this being sexaay on a guy.

Dzing .... oh L'Artisan.... I am not a fan of thee... I dislike 9/10 L'Artisans. Have you tried Timbuktu? I'm curious about Timbuktu. Dzing smells like melting plastic. Or like a plastic frisbee after the dog has been chewing on it. I just read about the circus thing - and nope - it doesn't smell like that.

tried 2 when I got home.

Lauder Azuree: at first I thought "aldehyde attack" and nearly scrubbed it off. now it's growing on me. spicy, woody, leathery, niiiiice. for the first 20 minutes I was convinced it was NOT me but I'm really liking it now. there is this 'eye watering' sensation - I'd have to spray it on my ankles to keep it away from my face!

Balmain Jolie Madame - big gorgeous dirty sweet gardenia...then poof...gone. I don't know if it's because Azuree is on the other arm overpowering it but I can't smell Jolie M after 1 hour.

Jeepers, just went to wash these 2 off so I can try others...Lauder's Azuree will not let go! was this one listed in your piece about longevity?! Final verdict: I love it.

I liked M7 more than I expected I would. I'm trepidations about trying Yatagan...

Abigail



Abby,

I'm amazed you haven't tried Azuree before. I think it's beautiful. It's one of those weird, vaguely leathery old frags made by Bernard Chant. It's almost exactly like Aramis, which he also did, and all his are actually similar and interchangeable in some ways. One night we were going to a Mexican restaurant and I sprayed Aramis 900, Aromatics Elixir, Cabochard, Aramis, and Azuree on. My friends all rolled down their windows. It was a major assault. I wanted to see how far I could push the threshold. So often I wear less than I want to , and spray thinking more of others than myself.

Try Jolie Madame later again when it isn't competing with Azuree. It's actually a leather violet. I of course love it. I have so many more to send you, dear. And you're such a good recipient. Because you make sure to respond to every one. Now that I've sent them, I understand why that's important. You send them as much to hear the other person's thoughts as to bestow fragrant beauty on them.

x
Brian

Staying Power: Fragrances That Last

Ever notice that the perfumes you spend the most money on often seem to be the least likely to persist on your skin, while the cheapos might outlast cockroaches in the event of a nuclear war? For the past several days, we at I Smell Therefore I Am have been spritzing Habanita, the weird, tarry vetiver of which has lingered so tenaciously that it got me reflecting on other equally virulent perfumes. What follows is a highly subjective list based on my own personal preferences and experiences (or lack thereof) in smell:

Estee Lauder Alliage

I lump this into the galbanum camp. Not every fragrance built around this note possesses tenacity (Chanel No. 19, anyone?) but many do. Galbanum can give a perfume quite a lot of kick; witness Sud Est by Romeo Gigli, Chamade, Diesel (the original), Givenchy Insense, Ralph Lauren's Safari, Trussardi Donna, and S.T. Dupont. All of these wear most of the day on my skin. Of the group, Aliage has the most longevity. It's a totally unlikely fragrance in many ways--so wrong it's right. It goes so far over the line that the line isn't an issue anymore.

Paris

Anything by Sophia Grojsman, really. Even Diamonds and Rubies by Elizabeth Taylor, and 360 Degrees for Perry Ellis. Even Coty Exclamation, which puts other, more expensive rose scents to shame. Grojsman's scents have a linear purity to them. They're dense, with a lot going on, but from beginning to end they remain pretty consistent. They're Russian novels, as opposed to beach reads. They have a certain reputation for excess which is fueled by their full bodied construction and near astral projection. But I get tired of all the caveats involved in the appreciation of Spellbound and Paris and Calyx and all the rest of Grojsman's oeuvre. Like Maurice Roucel (see below) she's a brilliant nose, with a baroque sensibility which will inevitably go in and out of fashion. Her perfumes, however, go the distance.

Tocade

And Iris Silver Mist, and Broadway Nite, and Gucci Envy (a member of the galbanum crew), Lolita Lempicka "L", 24 Faubourg, Insolence, Lalique pour Homme, and Missoni. The closest to Roucel in style is Grosjman. Both create fragrances which, whether gourmand or not, have the aromatic headiness of gourmet food, heavy on the butter and cream. This is one of the things which makes Roucel such a brilliant choice for ushering the Guerlain name into the near future. Like their classics, Roucel's compositions are practically edible, with a cake-like texture you can almost sink your teeth into. That said, Roucel isn't to everyone's taste. Personally, I find his perfumes so addictive and decadent that they literally set my teeth on edge.

Yatagan

Many of the old school leathers hang on for dear life. Cuir de Russie, Knize Ten, Rien by Etat Libre d'Orange, Hermes Bel Ami, and Tabac Blond, among them. They mix a petroleum noxiousness with a sweet, sometimes floral counterpoint. Knize Ten and Rien are a little more hard core. Certainly Yatagan. They also last the longest of the above on me.

Body Kouros

And most of Annick Menardo's body of work. Menardo's hallmark is a vanilla dry down, reflecting a penchant for the elaborately edible she shares with Roucel and Grojsman, whether it be the anisic note in Lolita au Masculin or the almond paste of Hypnotic Poison. Vanilla is certainly tasty, but by the time Menardo's constructions have reached their base notes, they've moved in various directions, more an artful tour of the pantry than a sit-down meal. Body Kouros is her strongest to me.