Profumo

At first I thought it was a joke, a bad one at that. A somewhat puffed up and old-fashioned cologne scent next to heavyweights like 'Derby' and 'Chamade pour Homme' - same wannabe noble presentation, same indisputable price segment?!
Is Guerlain really serious? 'Arsène Lupin' and 'L'âme d'un hèros' out and 'Le Frenchy' in on this strangely marginal and overpriced series?!
I'm afraid so, they're serious.
And after testing it several times, I have to admit it's okay.
Not that the two fragrances mentioned have disappeared is ok, not even the ugly wood-frame flacon, certainly not the 212 € that is demanded for it - all that is not ok.
But the scent is good, very good!

Le Frenchy' is now already the third guerlain´sche infusion in 'Verveine' (Verbena). First Aimé Guerlain, then Jean-Paul Guerlain and now Thierry Wasser. Which parts of the old formulas have flowed into the new, I cannot judge, I do not know the old fragrances. The notes that characterise them suggest, however, that they must have been typical cologne scents with volatile citrus components, in this case mainly lemon verbena.
And since the lemon verbena has this peculiarly pungent, herbaceous, almost metallic aftertaste (or smell), these old colognes, like so many other fragrances in which verbena is part of the part, must have been influenced by this typical Odeur. Lemon verbena is often found in old men's fragrances, especially those of the post-war period: in 'Moustache' by Rochas, for example, or in 'Monsieur de Givenchy' and Chanel's 'Pour Monsieur'.
In 'Le Frenchy' she celebrates a comeback so to speak - but of course not alone.

Basically, there are two fragrance concepts that merge here in a very successful way: the well-known and ancient concept of a classic cologne, and the comparatively young concept of an aromatic Fougères, because apart from the verbena mentioned above, it is above all lavender, tonka and sage that shape the fragrance.
All in all, a wonderful blend of a typical 70s Fougère à la 'Azzaro pour Homme' and the 50s verbena classic 'Monsieur de Givenchy' is created.
A very powdery lavender-coumarin chord lies like mildew over the bitter metallic bitterness of verbena and bergamot, and over the aromatic sage in the heart of the fragrance.
This all-encompassing and flattering powderiness on the one hand and the bitter aromas on the other hand form the tension arc in which the fragrance develops. It doesn't develop very dramatically - the powderiness remains, but it gets warmer and warmer in the base and tends towards classic Fougère, with green-mossy accents.
In this last phase 'Le Frenchy' reminds me again and again of the old aftershave bars 'Sir Irish Moos' and 'Brut' from Fabergé. And in fact 'Le Frenchy' has a certain aftershave feeling, but - and this has to be left to the scent - in a kind of 'de luxe' variant.
But if you think 'Le Frenchy' is a hopelessly old-fashioned scent with all the backwards looking references, you are wrong about my feeling. Le Frenchy' is as old-fashioned as 'Boy' by Chanel or 'Invasion Barbare' by MDCI, namely not at all. Of course he has a certain nostalgia factor and he wants to have it, but Fougères, respectively Barbershop fragrances are just 'in' again and so one tries everywhere to imprint a more modern stamp on the 'new' Fougères despite all nostalgia.
So Tom Ford, who was leading the way in 70's Fougère revival - 'Rive Gauche pour Homme' - just threw 3 new Fougères on the market again (unfortunately you have to call it that, because 'introduction', especially when so inflationary, can hardly be talked about anymore).
Guerlain is content with a single new Fougère, unfortunately all too hidden in that strangely hybrid 'Les Parisiens' series, which hardly any buyer will ever stumble over, as it is rarely and if ever presented, then mostly quite carelessly.

However, there is a small gap in the Guerlain catalogue. A gap that Guerlain had not been willing to close so far, as it was not even perceived as a gap. Jean-Paul Guerlain once said in his inimitable ignorance: 'Jicky' and 'Mouchoir de Monsieur' were the only Fougères who counted, the rest were for truck drivers.
It's a good thing they said goodbye to such snobbery.

After wearing it several times I have to say that 'Le Frenchy' is contrary to my first suspicion a scent with flesh and bone - it has substance.
Besides 'Derby' and 'Chamade pour Homme', it's not to be underestimated, and in terms of durability and perceptibility it's certainly not a lightweight, but also not a loudspeaker.
It is characterized more by understatement, with simultaneous presence.

Yes, I admit: a great fragrance, I like!
However, in order to come to this conclusion, I had to make a 180 degree turnaround....
Sei´s drum.
To err is human as we know.

It's hard to believe that almost 20 years have passed since the launch of Musc Ravageur!
Luca Turin's verdict: '.... i shared 'more flashy than good' absolutely back then, and I remember feeling the scent as loud, bold and banal - a slightly too sweet musk-centered work in the mainstream vanilla garb.

What a mistake!

Basically, I wasn't that wrong, but I hadn't bothered to let MR work on me in peace.
MR wasn't flashy, I was. Once sniffed at it and - zap - made a judgement. MR is a scent which, like hardly any other, should be tested slowly and above all several times in order to be able to judge it appropriately.
MR is a true scent chameleon: one time you think you recognize an oriental scent dominated by musk and vanilla, while another time it turns out to be a classic fougère, with herbaceous lavender notes in the head and heart, and a powdery-animal base.
Interestingly enough, he is also perceived just as unevenly - and after almost 20 years many people have really spoken about him in the various forums!
From the ultra-feminine, sweet gourmand Oriental, completely unwearable for the male sex, to the testosterone-laden Mocho-Fougère, this time absolutely not recommended to the ladies. Very, very many sometimes absurdly contradicting judgments can be found among all these comments.
But many, and I belong to this group now, do not share these extreme positions. The scent is not one or the other, it is both.

With MR it's a bit like back then with 'Mary & Gordy': at the end of one of their shows they put off the fumble and the wigs to Frank Sinatra's 'My Way', pulled the fake eyelashes off their eyelids, wiped the make-up off their cheeks and stood in front of their audience at the last bars recognizable as what they actually were: as men. Of course everyone knew from the beginning that the two were travesty artists, but they were so perfect that one somehow forgot. But now, at the end of the show, it was still surprising that it was these guys who did all the fancy work.
A basenoter wrote about MR: '... a sexual dragqueen of frag.'

The scent is just like a striptease - from vamp to guy.
And just as all the glitter camouflages the male core, so initially a sweet-sour, slightly bitter tangerine-bergamot chord camouflages, in the wake of a warm blossoming clove and cinnamon-spicy vanilla sweetness in the heart, the actual aromatic-herbal lavender core on quite hearty animal base (although, it is not so hearty, but later on...).
A transformation from 'Shalimar' to 'Kouros', so to speak, where MR has neither the opulence of one fragrance nor the skingout of the other.
No, MR doesn't look so busty by a long shot, but he also shows off his guts with less legs apart, is slimmer, androgynous - and yet both fragrances are somehow godfathers.

The animal base at all! It is judged as differently as the whole fragrance: from unbearable and unacceptable, to addictive and extremely erotic.
For lovers of 'White-Musc'- and 'Clean-Musc'- scents, of clean scents at all, it might not be tolerable at all. But if you appreciate fragrances with a considerable proportion of civet and/or animalis (a perfume base of various animal secretions), don't faint at 'Kouros', find Dior's 'Leather Oud' wearable and also Bogue's fragrances, you won't have a problem with MR at all.
I find this animal side extremely stimulating (not to say: exciting!) and very sexy!

I can think of two more scents that I loosely associate with MR. One is Alyssa Ashley's 'Musk' from the 60s and the other is good ole 'Jicky'.
Musk' was a quite popular fragrance during my school days in the 70s, one of the many hippie musk scents of the time. Compared to MR, however, it is much more boring and above all harmless, not 'ravageur', i.e.: stunning, devastating, destructive.... Nothing like that is Alyssa Ashley's 'Musk', and yet MR reminds me of this scent every now and then, and makes me somehow nostalgic.

Jicky', on the other hand, is a similar scent chameleon - just as difficult to decipher, whether 'pour homme' or 'pour femme', whether Fougère or already somehow Orientale, but exactly this mask play, this vagueness, this elusiveness from the location, that's what I really appreciate about 'Jicky', but also about MR.
With 'Jicky' MR connects another parallel: both are slim scents, which build on a few chords - rather minimalistic scents with maximum effect
Speaking of maximum effect: MR lasts on me incredibly long. I don't think I've ever experienced a scent like this before. Even 2 days later I can still feel it on my skin, and that - unlike Bogue's 'Mem' - is not unpleasant at all, quite the opposite. If 'Mem' is somehow penetrating and killing, MR remains steadfast to one's side, but just 'to one's side', without burying the carrier (olfactory).

Luca Turin's verdict I have to vary: '....not flashy, really good!'
Five stars *

Wow, this fragrance is a real firecracker: full-bodied, polyphonic, persistent and of heavy texture, not to say bold.

Years ago, when fragrances that I cheered for couldn't be loud and opulent enough, 'Mem' would have totally thrilled me. But since then my preferences have changed a bit and I prefer slimmer, generally more subtle fragrances. But 'Mem' is exactly the opposite. Such an enormously orchestrated fragrance has not come under my nose for a long time. Dozens of chords buzz loudly in confusion, drowned out by a booming triad of lavender, honey and animal essences.
But, and I really have to stress this: despite all cacophony and overweight: 'Mem' smells good, damn good.
But you have to like scents like 'Jicky', 'Miel de Bois' and 'Kouros'. Polarizing fragrances, mainly due to their animal exhalations, which reliably evoke associations of toilet blocks or full baby diapers. But the animal side of 'Mem' is, in my opinion, very civilized, especially compared to scents like 'Leather Oud' or 'Figment Man'. Probably it is however for many, for very many even, already no longer tolerable. Especially since the honey chord, which develops relatively little sweetness, lends this animal haze a certain sultriness, which with greater intensity would certainly be breathing. But this way, artfully calibrated, I don't only feel it as just bearable, but also as decidedly erotic.

While the highly praised predecessor fragrance 'Maai' was an attempt to revive the great animalic chypres of the past in a new interpretation, 'Mem' is an attempt to provide a worthy successor to the old Fougère battle horses such as 'Jicky', 'Pour un Homme de Caron', 'Zizanie', 'Brut' and 'Kouros'. And yes, this attempt was successful. With its many references to the past, 'Mem' is a retro fragrance 'par excellence'. However, one who is not content to be a well-made revenant of a well-known legend, but one who develops his own character, a modern face. But to call it, as some do, a modern fragrance, I wouldn't go that far. Too clearly 'Jicky' (lavender vanilla confection), 'Miel de Bois' (unsweet, woody aromatic honey) and 'Kouros' (the almost excessive use of the base 'Animalis') were the inspiration.

All in all a very successful fragrance, but for my feeling a bit 'over the top'. Too much of a good thing in many ways. I wanted it to be smaller, more discreet, and yes, also less long-lasting. Sprayed in the morning, the fragrance is still perceptible in the evening in such an intensity that you want to exclaim exhausted: Off, end, it's enough!
But 'Mem' does not release the wearer, no matter how homoeopathically he dosed the scent, but slowly but surely wrestles him down.

Conclusion: great, but less really would have been more.

Bhutan. The small South Asian country, with the famous gross national happiness and a supposedly breathtaking landscape, should smell so? About ethereal-fresh to animal-woody-earthy?
Hmmm... A 'Figment' probably, a product of imagination, a fantasy.

Anyway. Unlike many others, I can not quite relate here the associations with musty forest floor, pond and morass. For me, 'Figment Man' does not smell at all particularly earthy, muddy or even putrid. No, nothing like that. I can very well detect sandalwood, though, and incense. Reminds me a little of those infamous incense sticks that we used to torch in our shared rooms instead of airing out properly.
Framed is this central sandalwood chord of an initially quite sharp, unsweet fresh breeze that lasts for quite a while, and a woody-resinous base that resonates for hours.
So far, so good. Almost but also so banal, if there would not be another extremely distinctive chord lurking in the heart of the fragrance, which begins to blossom soon after spraying on and only many, many hours later very slowly fades away: a potpourri of animal notes. Whatever their origin may be: some suspect an overdose of civet, others a mixture of various musk compounds, some bring Costus into play, a fragrance that smells like wet (animal) hair, and also 'Animalis' of the company Synarome is brought into the field: a perfume base that was already used in Jean Carle's 'Visa', as well as in the fiercely controversial 'Kouros', and which is described as follows:

Odor: An animalic, musky, sensuous odor with costus-like connotation. Can be described as unwashed human hair, goat smell and dirty socks.

Sounds tempting, right?
But it is. At least for some, including me.

What stinks for some but already disgusting, is for others just a perhaps even narcotic aphrodisiac, in any case a fragrance. However, the tolerance threshold has dropped noticeably in recent decades, more precisely since 'Cool Water' and the triumph of fresh fougères, so that former heroes of the animalic fragrance world such as the aforementioned Kouros, or Montana's 'Parfum de peau' mutated from almost ubiquitous mainstreamer to rarely encountered exotic. That Amouage, in the never-ending age of clean fragrances, comes around the corner with such an animalic, broad-legged, sexually displaying fragrance bully, has a certain chutzpah, or at least defiance. Exorbitant sales figures are certainly not what Mr. Chong & Co. had in mind: this fragrance is certainly not a big seller, but they probably knew that: works like 'Figment Man' or Dior's 'Leather Oud' are not launched nowadays in the hope of making a killing. You launch them because you want to show that you can also dirty, that you are willing to go to the limits of the intolerable (and beyond), presumably not to get into the suspicion of the mainstream, to stand out, to remain in the conversation.
To have such a fragrance in the portfolio means: look here, we dare to do something, we make art, perfume art, even if it is art for art's sake.

Which raises the question: is this fragrance wearable at all?
I would say: yes.
No, since we are yet social beings who move among themselves and - at least tend to like each other. Since this fragrance, at least according to most comments, a majority should feel as half bad smelling, a public wearing largely excludes.

Yes, if you appreciate as a perfume enthusiast fragrances with a wider spectrum than fresh-clean-floral-vanilla and you can find a certain 'Hautgout' of dubious origin as stimulating, without having to throw up immediately. However, this should rather take place in a private setting, in a very private one probably, that is to say: between my arm and my nose. Because I appreciate this 'Figment Man' very much, as well as 'Kouros' or 'Leather Oud', Mazzolari's 'Lui', Dior's 'Jules' or Piguet's 'Oud', as well as the original 'Rose poivrée', before it was tamed animalistically, but wearing it in public and expose myself to the suspicion of possibly lacking body care, no, I would not like that then.

This Bhutanese (fragrance) tiger, I let nice at home to steam around, or take him only to tiny excursions with ...

Which would bring me, in contrast to pond morass toad, etc., to the following chain of association: a Buddhist temple, wafted by incense, in a predator zoo shaded by lemon trees.

Funny scenario.