MrHonest

When I originally purchased this fragrance, I honestly thought I knew what I was getting into. Being familiar with scents like Paco Rabanne's Pour Homme (a curiously poor modern reformulation with a side of pool chlorine) and Puig's Quorum (the aftershave is better), I expected something darker, inkier, brooding and sludgy; but most of all, CHEAP. Instead, what I was greeted with from start to finish was so brilliantly constructed, that to sniff something of this quality and presence at such a low price (and from a brand like Bogart) was nothing short of shocking.

Firstly, no, the quality of the materials themselves is not astronomical and the bottle that it comes in is nothing fancy (cheap plastic cap, crimped atomizer and sticker labels); but ho ho ho....that juice...is something else. The opening starts off with an effervescent ginger ale. You read correctly - crisp, bubbly, fizzy cedar and a limey juniper on a blanket of sheer green moss. If you've ever smelled the first few seconds of Z-14 or Gucci's Pour Homme, you'll recognize the twinkling of notes. You'll also recognize the era. Yeah. NOT this one. In fact, within the first few seconds, the scent seems to transport me to a sunny clearing on the bank of a stream in Tolkien's Old Forest where the hobbits stop for a rest after losing their way. The sun is warm, the air is heavy and the babble of the brook muddles thoughts of a slow and perilous journey....right before the forest comes alive.

And so it does. Within 5 minutes of the opening, the juniper steps back to reveal what is unmistakably a confident birch-leafy russian leather accord married with rosemary as if Tom Bombadil himself is chuckling next to you in his suede boots and leather belt. You would THINK, that just being in such a dark and potentially dangerous forest you'd be engulfed by smells of aged wood, sodden rocks and rotting foliage, but this ain't Mirkwood. The uplifting and cheery vibe that Tom brings with his singing and sprightly demeanor is in stark contrast to the deep greenery reflected in the colour of the bottle. 30 minutes in, a dusting of woody eugenol powders the leather of Tom's suede boots as if he's just putting them on the rack near the entrance of his cabin home. He invites you in, you greet the Mrs., and swiftly head to the bathroom to wash up before eating.

And so it is, that as you reach the wash basin in the bathroom of Tom Bombadil's homely home, you're greeted with the comforting and unmistakably woodsman-ish scent of Bogart Signature coming from a small, brownish object with flecks of green and purple perched beside the absolute tub of a basin - the soap. Yes indeed, within the hour this stuff turns soapy AF. 70s soap to be exact. The kind of soap a burly yet chirpy dude with plenty of well manicured body hair would use before donning extraordinarly clean attire and going about his day.

But it's not smoky, just green and leathery. Professional, yet fatherly. Crisp, yet deep. Aromatic, yet warm. Rural like a mossy breeze through forest mushrooms, yet urban like indoor plumbing and marble countertops. Wonderful contrast. If you've ever smelled Cuir de Russie from Le Jardin Retrouve or any other excellent russian leather, you'll get the vibe. Minus the animalics of course. In fact, if I had to describe this fragrance in one sentence, it would be an elegant vintage russian leather perfume made into a green drugstore bar of soap. A step down in quality to be sure, but maintaining that rugged character and fatherly elegance. Solid performance. Says his evaluation.

Overall, to say that I'm impressed with the current formulation of Bogart Signature is a ruddy understatement. This stuff blows modern Z-14, Quorum and PR Pour Homme out of the water. Not quite on par with vintage Polo imo, but perhaps a more refined and frugal neighbour. Green suede soap for the outdoorsy gentleman and loving father....or perhaps....a cheery singing fat dude from a creepy forest. Take your pick. Signature remains an effing WIN.

Many moons ago, I took for granted that this fragrance was basically a clone of JPG's original Le Male. At least...that's what I assumed. After smelling it once or twice on paper, it gave me smoooth Le Male vibes and I just left it at that. Unfortunately, due to its apparent popularity, it was one of those rare fragrances in the line that was never really discounted or ended up on the usual discounter racks like Signature, Riviera or Windsor. And paying a premium for what was essentially a better version of Cuba Gold simply wasn't justified. But as luck would have it, English Laundry recently discontinued this fragrance; and bingo-bango, just like that, into the bargain bin it went.

But that's not where this story begins. You see, I have a history with Le Male. Back in the late 90s, I found myself in a perfume shop in Germany that apparently decided to push the stuff like it was grandma's home cookin'. The entire store was blanketed in the stuff, and trying to navigate through shelves of unfamiliar perfume looking for a teenager's first cologne was like trying to sail through a dense fog in middle of the Bermuda Triangle. Every breath sent waves of minty vanilla-lavender into the lungs, stimulating key receptors and clouding the mind. From then on, the scent was burned so keenly into my nasal memory that it was impossible to forget.

Fast forward to the middle of the last decade when I came upon Le Male for the first time since the 90s - albeit in its reformulated form. Immediately I noticed that something was missing. Cuba's Gold would bring back some of that edginess, but it still wasn't quite there. And so began my quest to find either something closer to the original, or simply a better version.

Enter Prada's Luna Rossa Sport - a wonderfully smoother lavender-vanilla that I discovered after acquiring a number of samples with an order. I wore the heck out of that stuff in the winter of 2018 and actually grew quite fond of it. The blend was wonderful - albeit simple - and the performance was excellent for a synthetically sweet fragrance that had one foot in freshie territory. It wasn't exactly woody like Boss #6, but more of a quasi-aquatic take on Le Male without the mint - incredibly smooth and easy to enjoy.

So you can imagine my reaction when I picked up Arrogant recently from the bargain rack expecting to smell Le Male, and instead, being greeted with that ever-so-familiar smoooooth sweet lavender from 2018. Within seconds, 2 thoughts crossed my mind - 1) This isn't Le Male, and 2) Why am I transported to the winter holidays, walking through bustling streets and enjoying......yup. It was Luna Rossa Sport all right. No doubt about it. Almost identical for the first hour. Even the quality was on par. The only real difference was that it was a tad lighter - probably owing to the crappy atomizer - and it degraded into a thin candy-ish amber after about 4 hours. But for me, it finally highlighted the key difference between that scent and Le Male.

To describe it in plain terms, it starts out sweet and bright. Immediately the amber and lavender start kicking, with a very faint touch of some green spice in the background. Up close, I love this contrast. It's not quite a spice like pepper, cardamom or pimento, but more like this tingling greenness that just gives the lavender a sparkly edge. Nothing like the mint in Le Male either. Difficult to explain. Interestingly, it doesn't take long for it to disappear into the background and that smooth sweet lavender blend to take over. Simple - yes, synthetic - hell yes, but oh so pleasing. And lineeeeeeear. Very linear. In terms of quality, probably 2 steps above a holiday candle. Definitely passes as a great budget fragrance, but little more than that. The bottle and cap on par with the other English Laundry fragrances - not great, but workable.

Overall, I'll have to go out on a limb here and say that it's probably my favourite from the entire line, next to Oxford Bleu. But I'm biased of course. I really enjoy Luna Rossa Sport. And remember Luna Rossa Eau Sport? Yeah, wtf was that? I couldn't even finish the sample of that one it was such a mindf**. A super generic citrus that came out of nowhere and had nothing to do with the original. But THIS.....THIS fragrance easily lives up to that name. Quite literally, the watered down version of LRS, that retains the essential elements. So if you're looking for a solid budget version, this is it. Can't say that I'm disappointed that it's discontinued. Otherwise it wouldn't have ended up in my hands. A simple, easy to like and versatile unisex sweet lavender that anyone can enjoy. But yeah, not Le Male.

Picked this one up for dirt cheap at a local drugstore earlier this year, and after going through about a quarter of my bottle over the summer, I think I've got this one decently pinned.

First of all, I like it. It's an easy-breezy, easy-to-pleasey, aromatic, sweet fruity floral musk marketed to MEN if you can believe it - which is literally a breath of fresh air in a day and age when synthetic bubblegum citruses and super sweet woody ambers blanket modern retailers and discounters. But don't kid yourself, nothing about this one smells natural to me in any way. Instead, it's precisely how "blue" fragrances used to be composed in the 90s, when masculine FLORALS were the basis of everyday freshies like L'eau d'Issey Pour Homme, Acqua di Gio and CK One. And although this one doesn't smell like any of them (maybe a touch of 212 for men), the style is certainly recognizable.

The opening blast is almost leafy-green. My mind quickly jumps to a mix of violet leaf and bergamot, but with a blunted fruity edge - nothing sharp. Within a few seconds, soap from the 90s comes to mind, followed by a trip to the fragrance counter at a big-box store or perhaps a bathroom countertop laden with a smattering of scented hygeine products. It's a nostalgic feeling without a doubt, and the general association is absolutely of cleanliness; but nothing about it screams "cologne", "perfume", "high class", "night-out" or "luxury". On the contrary, it's far more along the lines of a scented product grabbed off of the shelf at a local pharmacy like a bottle of fruity floral shampoo, conditioner or those plug-in air freshners for the living room. Not exactly cheap....but certainly on the budget-friendly side of perfumery.

But here's the kicker - if ever there was a scent that epitomized the idea of stepping "out of the shower" - regardless of gender or age - this would be it. Without question. In fact, modern sweet and gummy, blue shower gel style fragrances have nothing on this one in the bathroom. The aromatic effervescence added by the pink pepper keeps the white florals popping for a solid 4-5 hours and prevents the fragrance from ever going into the heavy, sweet woody direction that's often associated with grounded masculinity. Combined with that greenness in the background on a bed of clean musk, there really is nothing to dislike about the scent. The only change is that it becomes slightly sweeter in the sillage with time, but the transition is virtually seamless, and the projection is very good for a freshie. It's quite literally the quintessential embodiment of 1990s unisex aquatic, perfectly distilled and refined for the 21st century.

And fitting with that theme, I think they absolutely nailed the aesthetic. The box is clean and neat, the bottle is sheer and minimalistic, the liquid colour screams AQUA and the heavy plasitc cap fits snuggly and is beautifully embossed on the top. Basically, just take the juvenile sweet, fruity lavender-vanilla out of YSL's Y edt, and you've got your nearest competitor. And what a great atomizer too - decently sensitive and shoots out a massive dose of juice every time. Love it. Especially in the warmer months when more is often warranted.

Unfortunately, nothing about the scent makes me think "fougere" or anything Italian. I'll admit, it has that european soapiness to it, but in the absence of coumarin, oakmoss or barbershop lavender (or spicy amber for that matter), the name just doesn't fit. Not that it matters. But with the whole fougere=masculine association, it could be a bit misleading - because this stuff could easily be taken for a women's perfumed hair product at a distance. Which....is perhaps why I enjoy it so much???

Yes indeed, in a day and age when every male-targeted freshie must conform to the Dior Sauvages, Bleu-de-whatevers and Mr. bubblegum borings, here comes a legit piece of aquatic floral nostalgia from an era of perfumery I thought to be long forgotten. I absolutely can't give Ferre enough props for that. And did you notice that it doesn't say "For Men" anywhere on the box or bottle? Yeah, screw gender. LOL Unfortunately, with a juice quality that I might consider to be one or two steps above an Adidas fragrance...let's just say that there was room for improvement. Otherwise, if you're looking for a straight-up burst of lasting, bargain floral-fresh soap from the 90s, you probably won't do better than Fougere Italiano. "Out-of-the-shower" in a bottle. Ciao ciao.

I'm just gonna straight out and say it. I hate woody ambers. With a passion. They burn my nose, smell exactly like isopropyl alcohol and just about outlast and overpower everything in a composition. Up until the summer of 2022, I was like most people - I really didn't notice them; but something must've happened to my receptors one strange night, because after that, literally everything changed.

Suddenly, I was smelling woody ambers in everything - designers, niche, and especially middle eastern clone brands that seem to view them as a solution to the performance problem that freshies have in high heat as well as a way to widen the profit margin on already affordable fragrances. And who can blame them? They're cheap, extremely stable, abnoxiously powerful and most people can't even make them out, making them the perfect material to supercharge otherwise flaccid compositions. In fact, I'll bet my bottom dollar that what I used to think was a cheap synthetic spicy oud was actually a woody amber like Amber Xtreme cleverly wrapped in a warm coat of iso-e or labdanum derivative.

The problem I have now, is that my newfound sensitivity has opened my nose to the realization of just how ubiquitous the materials are. And when I smell them in a post-2001 perfume, there's really no way to un-smell them. So the question then becomes - how do you hide an atomic bomb blast in plain sight? Theoreme. That's how.

On the surface, this fragrance can be summarized in 3 words - citrus-woody-amber. But a better way to describe it is spicy amber-something-or-other covered in sweet grapefruit, on a bed of non-decript patchouli-musk. If you look at the notes of Afnan's Turathi Blue, that's it EXACTLY. Absolutely no doubt. Rue Broca is a subsidiary of Afnan after all, so it makes sense. Haven't smelled Bvlgari's Tygar; but if they're charging that kind of premium for a massive dose of a cheap captive molecule (can anyone say Erba Pura?), then they're laughing all the way to the BANK.

The good - the grapefruit is on par with D&G's Light Blue Forever. It's a synthetic grapefruit accord to be sure - reminiscent of the flavouring in Allan's sour grapefruit slices, but it seems to fool most people and definitely is on the bitter side of things. Fortunately, it never really jumps out and kicks you in the face....exactly. Instead, it's steadily balanced by the patchouli and warm spices that actually give this fragrance a quasi tea-ish vibe. Like a warm tea brightened with a spritz of grapefruit? Curiously, I get a similar effect with Rochas' Moustache edp (which also utilizes a decently obvious woody amber), that takes that warm tea and adds a good dose of rose and honey. On SKIN that is. On paper, Theoreme keeps things a bit colder and sweeter - like an iced-tea with a hint of grapefruit. Pretty sure that would be the effect on clothing as well.

Unfortunately, on skin, the show really doesn't go on for that long. After about an hour or two, the rubbing alcohol vibe takes over (as it always does) and everything else just sort of disappears from notice. To me. And I'll bet you anything that at this point, many people would mistaken that sharp nose-burning effect as an indicator that the citrus is still hanging on. But therein lies the illusion. lol That's musk indenofuran for ya.

So is it a good scent? In a way, hell yeah. Textbook on how to hide a potent woody amber in a fragrance. For....a few short hours. After that, there's just no way. Something like Amber Xtreme will outlive your grandmother. But when that grapefruit is kicking and the whole warm tea vibe is there, I think it's bloody fantastic. Never have I ever ticked every box in the first 3 categories of the classification system below. But this fragrance does it. Anytime, anywhere, anyone. Anytime. No I already said that. Anyone, anywhere. And here's the kicker - it doesn't burn my nose! Yes, the woody amber is still easily detectable, but it seems like my nose just doesn't care anymore? I dunno, difficult to explain. But yeah, it's good that way.

As the for the bottle, the upper collar is a fingerprint magnet, and despite the cap being reasonably heavy, the shape of the bottle makes it kind of cumbersome to remove and replace. Sucky. But the atomizer sprays out a ton of juice, so that's another plus. And price? Forget about it. Dirt cheap.

The bad - difficult to find. Very difficult actually. Might as well just go with Turathi Blue if you can't find it tbh. Otherwise, have at it. It's really quite pleasing. And versatile. And a massive projector for the first couple of hours thanks to......you guessed it. All hail woody ambers as perfumery's Lord and money savior. Saver. Typo. Nuthin' left to say. Other than.......anytime.

I vividly remember when this one was first released because I scooped up 2 samples of it and gave them a go. Well....sort of. It didn't take long for me to realize that, despite it's generic appeal, it bugged me for some reason. It was familiar, but not in the Bleu de Chanel sort of way; it was fruity, but not in the YSL L'homme way; and it was LOUD. Synthetic and LOUD. Couldn't put my finger on it. Needless to say, I literally couldn't make it through the first sample and promptly gave both away, mentally slapping the fragrance with the label "no-go" and that was that.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago (years later in fact) when I found a gift set for super cheap and decided to pick it up as a present for a friend. I opened the box (to ensure everything was where it should be), had a sniff and was like, "whoa whoa whoa. THAT is Jeremy Lin for Him." Sure enough, I recognized the scent immediately and simultaneously solved the age-old riddle of what Jeremy Lin (which was released after Missoni PH) strongly reminded me of - something that had been bothering me for years.

Basically, Missoni Pour Homme opens with a cacophany of notes that resembles a synthetic orangey grapefruit, ginger, herbally apple, and lavender. I really don't get a strong citrus presence, but the ginger initally plays this dissonant chord that doesn't exactly jive with the rest of the composition. Or maybe it's the lime? Luckily, it's a fragrance that continues to get smoother and better the longer it stays on skin. In fact, within about 20 minutes, the projection becomes considerably stronger and the lavender starts to take on a quasi-barbershop fougere quality. It didn't take me long to make the connection with the lavender used in Mont Blanc's original Legend edt - hence the mass appeal. And just like that, Jeremy Lin for Him fades into the background, making room for what seems like a whole new scent.

Within the hour, as the herbs become more present, I'm strongly reminded of another fragrance - Armaf's Legesi - a smoother and sweeter rendition of Chanel's Platinum Egoiste. Bingo bango, I suddenly understood what the ginger and herbs were doing - giving the smooth lavender a metallic zing, hence the subtle barbershop vibes. And perhaps even hints of Drakkar Noir here and there? But that's pretty much the way it remains for a solid 9-10 hours - a barbershopy lavender with some zingy-fruity herbally somethings in the background on a base of aromatic musk. Great performance for a modern designer, even in its current formulation; and the bottle design, strong magnetic cap and atomizer - all great.

But all-in-all, it's a bit of a haphazard go at mashing several fragrance styles together to create something rather....well, generic. No question that the lavender gives it a masculine edge, but like I said before, it's doesn't really nail one particular genre. It's a quasi-fruity, quasi-fougere synthetic screamer of a scent, that fits into almost any situation SO well that it nearly evades notice. Don't get me wrong, it's nice enough - nice enough for me to keep the gift set for myself in fact LOL - but it's about as close to a dad scent as you can get. And yes, there' nuthin' wrong with that. Personally, I'll keep my eye out for a deal on Missoni's Wave (which I much prefer), but for now, it's one more in the mass appeal pile. Not at all a BdC edt smell-a-like imo, but pretty much Missoni's take on a daily driver. The bit-of-everything masculine. Mishmash Pour Homme.