Chypres series 7: The Chypres that Time Forgot

If you're new to Perfume Shrine's Chypre Series, please refer to the following basic articles:
What ARE "chypre perfumes"?
What are the aesthetics of chypre fragrances?
What's the history and zeitgeist of "chypre" evolution?

There are some chypre fragrances that got sidetracked for various reasons, none of which is the fault of their actual scent. Either their heyday ended in an abrupt change in the public's sensibilities or they fell out of production because of a deal that got terminated, or alternatively they became so low profile and obscure that they didn't pique the interest of the general public anymore. Notwithstanding that chance that they got reformulated beyond recognition. Whatever the reason, today's choices are great fodder for rediscoveries, much like a wild safari in the virtual jungle.

 Deneuve by Catherine Deneuve
The jewel of the crown is the magnificent, transcedental chypre that was named and devised by none other than the perfumista par excellence, Catherine Deneuve. Her well established love of perfume blossomed into a creation she could call her own; first launched via an agreement with Avon for the US market (which might come as a surprise to some). However, according to her own admission in Elle magazine in 1994, that agreement fell through and the production stalled, maybe because greens were not so popular anumore, making Deneuve a sought after wonder of the online auctions even since.
She had personally been involved in its creation in France in 1986, "like a child in front of a magical toy", smelling hundreds of ingredients and combinations, eliminating (she hinted that the team creating it didn't really know what to do), testing the mods up till she settled for the final three ones. And then, on a shooting trip to Italy, she came up with the winning choice that materialised her vision: an "open" perfume, something that would be trully feminine, something classical and beautiful like a great piece of music, smelling like entering a garden which has an indefinable aroma. She wanted emotion, mystery, perhaps a bit of the Orient mixed in for good measure. {translated from quotes on French Marie Claire 1989}

I was moved by the brave sizlling top of green that combined intense galbanum with naturally eugenol-rich spicy basil, only to be awed upon coming across the lushness of the floral heart that spoke of warm smelling bouquets that rest on a mossy, sensual base that has a touch of the leathery animalic that is to be experienced in the drydown of classic chypre Miss Dior. It even came in a dusting powder which is so gloriously decadent and old-fashioned that I am stumped why it hasn't been featured in one of those highly successful commercially guides of how to become the perfect bombshell or something.
The downside? You must hunt it down on Ebay: be prepared for astronomical bids!
On the bright side, two dupes of it are reputed to be particularly spot on although I haven't tested them myself: Cannes from Long Lost perfumes (said to be a little sharp)and the Deneuve Type by DSH (said to be a tad richer)

Official notes for Deneuve:

Top: Green notes, Galbanum, Bergamot, Neroli, Basil, Aldehyde
Middle: Rose, Muguet, Jasmin, Orris, Ylang-Ylang, Violet, Hyacinth
Base: Moss, Musk, Cedarwood, Sandal, Civet

Coriandre by Jean Couturier 
It first piqued my interest when I read Susan Irvine's desrciption of it: "fit for a red headed Raymond Chandler heroine". Perfume Shrine has long worshipped the noir heroines and their universe and this was like a bowl of cream in front of a hungry kitten: irresistible!
Subtle and refined, it didn't speak of the femme fatale so much, but of a patchouli and geramium wreath around roses of a dark red hue, an elegant missile of indoors denotation. Contrary to its name, it doesn't predominantly smell of coriander, although there is discernible spiciness to it that does not recall the culinary. The green pong of angelica makes it dry and somehow young despite appearences.
Created in 1973 by Couturier's own wife Jacqueline, who was Grasse-trained and an heir to perfumers, it was the foundation on which the Couturier Parfums brand was established. It comes in a bottle topped by a green malachite-looking cap, beautifully veined.
Coriandre has been a little surgically enhanced (this happened in 1993), but it didn't involve a complete face-lift which is good news to its acolytes. Consider yourself honoured and not humbled to be included in the latter.
Available from newsparfums.com and other etailers for reasonable prices.

Official notes for Coriandre:

Top: Coriander, Aldehydes, Angelica, Orange blossom
Middle: Rose, Geranium, Jasmine, Orris
Base: Patchouli, Sandal, Vetiver, Civet

 Halston by Halston
  Halston by the american designer Roy Halston Fronwick stops at the Disco end of the Silk Road, being launched smack down in the middle of the 1970s decade (in 1975) in a bottle designed by Elsa Peretti, a designer famous for her "natural", organic shaped jewel designs for Tifanny. Those were the times that chypres were still in favour and its minty aroma that opens on green notes allied with marigold and bergamot, seguing to a lathery soapiness of orris, jasmine and rose touched with a little woodiness were alluring to the audiences of Studio 54. Then soapiness fell out of vogue and its vetiver-laden base with a slight smokiness of incense and moss to it was antithetical to the heavy drum n'bass of the 80s amber perfumes that dominated the corporate world, too busy to go dance recklessly under strobe lights.
Still, Halston manages to survive today as something that smells unique and invitingly warm. I was deeply surprised when Agapi Vardinoyiannis, the socialite wife of a tycoon, divulged casually upon being asked on the familiar smell emanating that it was her preferred signature scent. Surely a woman who can afford anything condoning this long-time forgotten little gem is enough motivation to seek it out.

Official notes for Halston:

Top:melon, green note, peach, bergamot, spearmint, marigold
Middle: jasmine, rose, cedar, orris, ylang ylang, carnation
Base: moss, patchouli, vetiver, amber, musk, sandalwood, incense

Jean Louis Scherrer original 
Jean Louis Scherrer (1979)by designer Jean Louis Scherrer is a precious sight in its elegant, tall hexagonal bottle that opens up to verdant glory of liquid emeralds. Green and with the rush of sparkling aldehydes it is soon intensly mossy and floral, recalling a bygone era. The violet note is mostly reminiscent of an iris fragrance, slightly metallic and otherwordly; but the brooding synergy with the other ingredients brings out a luminiscent aura that is tantamount to wearing an expensive necklace of Peruvian pre-Colombian emeralds set on antique gold.
It can be ordered from First in Fragrance/Aus liebe zum duft and Escentual as well as other etailers.

Official notes for Jean Louis Scherrer:

Top: aldehydes, cassis, violet, hyacinth
Middle: tuberose, jasmine, rose, gardenia, carnation
Base: sandalwood, vetiver, civet, moss.

Armani "Classic" Femme (for women)
Last but not least, one of the first perfumes that I donned on my juvenile person and came to love, earning lots of compliments in the process and assuming poses well beyond my years was Armani Femme, the original scent that was issued in 1982. Perhaps more green than traditionally chypre, it came in a bottle trifaced like a byzantine triptych, which enchanted my historically bent soul. The aroma of greens merged with the powdery and lush whiffs of flowers and fruits that never became sweet. It was perfume-y and proud of it, asserting its persona beyond doubt with a warm, erotic base that surely made more promises than those delivered to my admirers back then.
Sadly discontinued in favour of newer blunt releases...Shame, mr.Armani, shame.

Official notes for Armani Femme :

Top: Spearmint, Galbanum, Pineapple, Marigold
Middle: Jasmine, Tuberose, Cyclamen, Narcissus
Base: Cedarwood, Oakmoss, Tonka, Benzoin

Pics courtesy of parfumsdepub,okadi,toutsurdeneuve, escentual and Greek jeweler Fanourakis

Paloma Picasso Mon Parfum: fragrance review

It's hard for me to speak of Paloma Picasso perfume and not implicate the obliviously innocent in this. Because it happens to be the signature choice of someone I knew, someone who is most probably unawares of this blog, its writer and musings. I doubt I had even registered much in her mind back then when her scent made an impression on me. A really young novice I was at the Conservatoire, accompanying her vocal classes on the piano.

Anna was a creature of fire and spice, long tresses of chestnut trailing her back in thick curls, a straight, impressive nose under austere dark brows, but with a gregarious, roaring laughter that dared to flirt with anyone within a 10-mile radius. She dressed in full bohemia, just about 10 years after its heyday or about 20 before its resurgence, any which way you choose to see it. She wore dangling earrings made of ethnic beads and smoked heavy Gitanes. And her scent seemed to preceed her; which was not all that au contraire to the mood of the era, if only because there were numerous others, men and women alike, who followed a fragrance cloud rather than the other way around. That was the 80s, that was when Paloma Picasso launched Mon Parfum, a powerful chypre fragrance meant to embody her unique style.
Anna did not wear white shirts with black skirts, though, nor painted her lips in a crimson bloodfest that recalls the picadors in the tercio de varas. No, Anna was beyond such clichés...

The Ritual Fire Dance by Spanish composer Manuel De Falla conjures up comparable images in my mind. (the cello soloist is Julian Lloyd Webber and the clip was uploaded by gindobray)

The pungent green and dry chypré opening was like a bruise, aching long after the blow has been hit. And then roaring spices came cascading down in quick succession: clove and coriander, bold and proud, unashamedly pronouncing their presence before the hazy drop of flowers smelled at a distance was perceived, with a little hedione brightness. Rose was musty, musky, playing hide-and-seek with an effluvium of patchouli leaves with a little powder, much like that in Aromatics Elixir.
The gaunlet however was only thrown after the base notes develop, like the hides of dead animals, rich castoreum with more than a touch of the masculine, at a tannery on a warm day. The funk of a big animal in its ammoniac glory used to cure the hides is there and it dares you to bypass without closing your nostrils for a while, doubting if this is supposed to smell good or bad. A conundrum!

It came in a glorious soap formula that was made for bathing meant to make you smell dirtier than what you started with and didn't you love this, back then.
The eau de parfum was Anna's preferred concentration, encased in a black glass bottle from what I recall (current versions with lightned up base -due to restrictions in animalic ingredients used- are in plastic). And upon resniffing for the purposes of this review I couldn't but wonder how it was possible to tolerate, -nay, love madly- such a potent mix! It would take a very sparing application in this modern day and age to make it smell acceptable. But it is worth trying to find the perfect balance. The parfum/extrait which comes in a white splash bottle is perhaps the way to go as it is meant to be dabbed and not sprayed.
It's interesting to note that some modern day scents such as Sisley's chypre Soir de Lune were even inspired by Paloma's approach.

Paloma Piccaso, the daughter of Pablo, codenamed this scent Daphne 19, which puzzling as it is it is reminiscent of my own experience. Perhaps she knew someone named thus, while at her stint at Tiffany's as jewel designer, echoes of which are evident on the elaborate bottle, shaped after a pair of earrings made of petrified palm wood she designed for the brand? Or did she merely refer to the odorous plant? Dubious...
Mon Parfum was composed by Francis Bocris in 1984 with Paloma's guidance and includes the following notes:

Top: bergamot, lemon, hyacinth, angelica, ylang ylang, clove
Middle: Rose de Mai,jasmine, lily of the valley, orris
Base: Oakmoss, castoreum,vetiver, patchouli, amber, civet, musk, cedarwood, tobacco, sandalwood

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The touch of a masterful persona that purposly discards social rules to do their own is evident in Mon Parfum by Paloma Picasso. Anna wore it amazingly well. Not all do.

Pics from parfumsdepub

Fragrance review: Midnight violet by Ava Luxe

By guest writer Ida Meister


I am such a neophyte, that I feel a disclaimer is in order.
To begin with: it should be noted that I am neither a writer nor a perfumer.
I am simply a woman possessed by a 50 year love affair with fragrance,
who lives for her nose…known to some of you as “chayaruchama”.

Helg most generously offered me the opportunity to write a review for
you all. She had just reviewed the magnificent Madame X{click for review} by Ava Luxe, and her enthusiasm spurred me to sample quite a few of Serena Ava Franco’s works.
I was delighted to discover how gifted Ms. Franco is.

Some fragrances announce their presence with a clarion call- others insinuate their way into a room. Midnight Violet falls into the latter category.
If Madame X is a symphony, then Midnight Violet is an etude, a dark one, by Chopin.

(click to experience what such a glorious thing is!)

Not melancholic in an abysmal sense, but deep, powerful, real,
evocative, and full of feeling.
There is no strident opening, no coyness or girlish blushes, no precocity.
Conversely, Midnight Violet is not a gloomy, dank incense.

Somehow, this unusual perfume manages to be richly hued, with many
layers of depth and nuance without being opaque or heavy.
Midnight Violet opens with a shaft of light, which is heralded by the joyful notes of pink pepper, cinnamon, and galbanum.
This translates into an intensely green, dry spiciness, which then
yields to a richer, denser resinous smoke flavored with orris, the scent
of damp earth and black hemlock.
Cedar and sandalwood- very soft and creamy- ally themselves, joined by a
languid moss, wood balsam, musk and civet.
The addition of these woody and animalic accords endows Midnight Violet
with a harmonious complexity that is very satisfying and possessed of
great warmth.

My impression is of being drawn into the woods at dusk, when the light
is just beginning to falter, and discovering that you are suddenly
surrounded by the approaching night.
The moon can be spied between the branches, but the forest is dark,
quiet, and very deep.
The haunting, faint odor of sylvan violet is nestled in an earthy, smoky
bower, peaceful and contemplative.

Pic of Liv Tyler from the advertising campaign of "Lord of the Rings". Thanks to Youtube for the clip of Chopin's etude op.10 #1

Labdanum: an important material (in chypre fragrances & not only)

It is well known to our readers by now that chypre perfumes are dependent on a strict formula that juxtaposes bergamot and oakmoss, interlaying labdanum and other earthy elements such as vetiver or patchouli.
Perfume Shrine has already focused on oakmoss extensively (click for relevant article), so the other important material that needed tackling was labdanum. And so here we are today, trying to examine some of its facets.

First of all, what is it? It comes as a sticky dark brown resin exudate from two sources: from the shrubs Cistus ladaniferus (western Mediterranean) and Cistus creticus (eastern Mediterranean), both species of rockrose. Rockrose forms the Cistaceae (or rock-rose family), a rather small family of plants reknowned for their beautiful shrubs, covered by flowers at the time of blossom. It consists of about 170-200 species in eight genera and those are distributed primarily in the temperate areas of Europe and the Mediterranean basin, although they can be found in North and South America too in some instances. The flowers themselves have a faint odour and are not used in perfumery.

Labdanum is a natural oleoresin but it differs slightly from other oleoresins in that it contains more waxes and less volatile oil than most of the other natural oleoresins.

There is an ancient background to labdanum, as its etymology reveals: lôt in Hebrew (coming from a semetic root) which means resinous herb, ladunu in assyrian, lâdhan in Arabic, ledanon in Greek and ladanum/labdanum in Latin. Egyptians used it in their Kyphi mixtures whereas the Hebrews burned it in their temples as incense, so it had a ceremonial character.
It is even referenced in The Bible (as Balm of Gilead): The Ishmaelite caravan coming from Gilead to which Joseph was sold, was transporting labdanum (Genesis 37, 25). Subsequently, Jacob ordered his sons to offer labdanum, along with other local products, to their brother, now an Egyptian dignitary:

"And their father Israel said unto them, If it must be so now, do this; take of the best fruits in the land in your vessels, and carry down the man a present, a little balm, and a little honey, spices, and myrrh, nuts and almonds."

(Genesis 43, 11) {found through Bible fragrances}.

It is believed that the above refers to the resin from the Pink Rockrose as "myrrh", although the two are not interchangeable. Myrrh per se is mentioned in the Bible (Psalm 45:8; Song of Solomon 4:14) and is believed to have been a mixture of natural myrrh (extracted from a tree in Africa and Arabia, like franckincense used to be got as well) and the oleoresin labdanum.

The Japanese use labdanum today in their Neriko mixtures, used during tea ceremony. The tradition is alive!

The use of ladbanum in medicine is well documented. Its high content in polyphenols makes it an excellent food supplement protecting the immune system.
In ancient times it was used for its properties of protection against bacteria and fungi.

It is suggested that the Pharaohs used fake beards made of goat hair (from animals that had grazed upon the resiny bushes) for that reason, but also to surround themselves with an aura of distinction.
Greek physician Hippocrates prescribed "myrrh" (the mixture of natural myrrh and labdanum, as above) for sores and the Romans used it to treat worm infestations, the common cold, coughs, and some infections. Up to 3000 tons of frankincense and myrrh were transported each year during the height of Nabataean trade!
According to Cocker, J. D.; Halsall, T. G.; Bowers, A. (1956). "The chemistry of gum labdanum. I. Some acidic constituents" (Journal of the Chemical Society: 4259-62) and II. The structure of labdanolic acid" (Journal of the Chemical Society: 4262-71):

Labdane is a natural bicyclic diterpene that forms the structural core for a wide variety of natural products collectively known as labdanes or labdane diterpenes. The labdanes were so named because the first members of the class were originally obtained from labdanum, a resin derived from rockrose plants."

while

A variety of biological activities have been determined for labdane diterpenes including antibacterial, antifungal, antiprotozoal, and anti-inflammatory activities.

(Studies in Natural Product Chemistry : Bioactive Natural Products, Part F, Atta-Ur-Rahman)

Theophrastus and Pliny mention labdanum as does Herodotus in his Historia, in the book "Thalia" (one of a total of 9,named after the Muses):

"Ledanum, which the Arabs* call ladanum, is procured in a yet stranger fashion. Found in a most inodorous place, it is the sweetest-scented of all substances. It is gathered from the beards of he-goats, where it is found sticking like gum, having come from the bushes on which they browse. It is used in many sorts of unguents, and is what the Arabs burn chiefly as incense.
Concerning the spices of Arabia let no more be said. The whole country is scented with them, and exhales an odour marvellously sweet."

{*please note that the Arabs referenced by Herodotus are ancient tribes inhabiting the region called Arabia and not today's islamic populace}.

But then why the confusion with opiates? The answer goes back to the Middle Ages and Paracelsus. A famous medical preparation of his own -which included gold, crushed pearls and other ingrendients (Opera, 1658, i. 492/2), but with opium as its chief component. Therefore the term is now used for the alcoholic tincture of opium (q.v.). The name was either invented by Paracelsus from Latin laudare (=to praise), or was a corrupted form of "ladanum" (from Persian ladan), a resinous juice or gum obtained from various kinds of the Cistus shrub, formerly used medicinally in external applications and as a stomach tonic." (Source 1911encyclopedia.org)


Labdanum's odour profile is highly complex. It is balsamlike, with woody, earthy, smoky, and even marshy undertones. Some even desrcibe it as ambergris-like, or leathery and honeylike with hints of plum or oakmoss after a rain. Usually it is referred to as ambery, but it is mostly used to render leather or ambergris notes, the latter especially after its ban on using the real animal-derived material, as there were concerns about the ethical production of it from sperm whales from which it originates (Ambergris is therefore very rare and costly if ethically harvested and is mostly synthesized in the lab. Please read this amber article for more info).

Its complexity is one of the reasons it has fascinated people since antiquity and it has been reported to affect the subconsious in profound ways. Its aromatheurapeutic value is that it is grounding, warming and sensual.

The method of extracting it is unusual and highly entertaing at that. Herodotus and Pliny report that labdanum was collected by combing the beards of goats, which were impregnated with the substance. The goats graze from the branches and the sticky resin gets stuck on their beards. Upon their return, their owners comb the resin our of their beards and extract the resin.

Also a rakelike instrument with long strips of leather attached to it, which they drag across the bushes to collect the resin, is used, called ladanesterion.
To this day labdanum is still gathered in Crete by driving goats into the thick forests overgrown with labdanum bushes. It is difficult work as it is best done in hot weather, under bright sunlight in the summer months. Sises is a Cretan village near Rethymnon, where such work is done to this day (coincidentally also the area from which El Greco/Dominikos Theotokopoulos comes).
You can read amazing detail on this matter on this site by Dimitris Niktaris: Labdanum Gr.

Today modern production is mainly concetrated in Spain and is done through easier means. However there is something to be said about the small, manual labour of cretan production that is of top quality.
The modern method involves boiling the leaves and twigs of this plant in water and the gum being skimmed off the surface and mixed with other resinous matter, which sinks to the bottom of the boiling water, as the resinoid is unsoluble in water. The extraction of the crude or cleaned labdanum gets done with a hydrocarbon solvent, whereas petroleum ether is being used increasingly because it yields a light amber resinoid which contains the most wanted odour principles in high concentration: cinnamon base - (isoeugenol) and labdanum resinoid. An absolute is obtained by solvent extraction whereas an essential oil is produced by steam distillation.

In perfumery it is used in many alloys, chypres notwithstanding and mixes well with hundreds of ingredients, interestingly one of which is lavender, another mediterranean herb.
Labdanum gum may contain up to 20% water, but this should be squeezed off or cautiously dried off. When in its fresh state, it is plastic but not pourable. It hardens on ageing, even to the point of becoming brittle. However if it is so at room temperature, it should be rejected as a starting material for the processing of labdanum derivatives.
Its shelf life is about 36 months and can be used in 10.0000 % in the fragrance concentrate.

One of the fragrances that focus on labdanum is Le Labo's Labdanum 18. Tagged as an enigma, to be used by both sexes, it focuses on the mysterious ambience that labdanum creates, fusing animalic and warm notes that meld on the skin.
Other fragrances that are rich with the note (but no guarantees on it always being naturally derived) are:
Donna Karan Essence Collection Labdanum ,Monia di Orio Lux, Dia for men by Amouage, L'eau Trois by Diptyque, Rien by Etat Libre d'Orange, Andy Tauer L'air du desert marocain ~Click for review~ (and reportedly it will feature in his Incense Duo as well), Patou pour Homme, Tabac Sport by Mäurer & Wirtz, Boucheron Pour Homme, Capucci Pour Homme, ST Dypont Signature pour homme, Eau Sauvage Extrême by Christian Dior, Whole Notes a floriental from Canadian perfumer Lyn Ayre of Coeur d’Esprit Natural Perfume, Prada, Prada Tendre and Prada Amber pour Homme, Mathew Williamson Incense, Ho Hang by Balenciaga, Jacques Bogart One man show, Ayala Moriel natural perfumes Ayalitta, Autumn and Democracy and Anya's Garden natural perfume Pan ~click for review~ that features real billy goat hair tincture.

Pics from bojensen.net, ladanisterion pic originally uploaded by labdanum.gr

Chypre series 6 ~Masculine chypres: does such a thing exist?

In this month of chypres examination and discussion, Perfume Shrine pondered on their origin, their composition, the modern variations, their aesthetics and the relation they have to the zeitgeist (Click on the links to go to respective subject).
It was about time we focused on the question whether there are indeed masculine fragrances that fall into this category of chypre.
The matter arises because most of the frequently mentioned chypre perfumes are feminine, if you think about it. We also attribute traditionally perceived feminine characteristics to them, such as elegance or sartorial sophistication (for some reason this wouldn't resonate with the Italian man, but I digress).
And the subcategories of floral or fruity within chypre often predispose one to think into such terms, although the seasoned perfumed lover is not restricted by such artificial limitations pertaining to gender.

Like we discussed before Chypre relies on the juxtaposition of bergamot and oakmoss, with the traditional inclusion of labdanum and usually of patchouli or vetiver. There is a comparable fragrance family for men, called Fougère (pronounced foozh-AIR), the French word for fern. In reality this is a fantasy accord because ferns have no real scent of their own. Fougère fragrances have fresh herbaceous notes, juxtaposing lavender with oakmoss on a fern-like base, with an element of Coumarin (the smell of freshly mown hay, naturally found in tonka bean, the seed of a West African tree which contains up to 40% of it).
Masculine fragrances have usually gone the route of the fougère when trying to recreate a forest floor impression instead of chypre, perhaps due to the fact that chypre perfumes have been marketed to women, or because they often included floral elements which are traditionally thought of as feminine in the 20th century (albeit not before!).

Classification is rather dubious territory, as there are countless exempla of diversifications according to the source. Open any guide or reference site and you will see the differences leaping to the eye. Therefore the following is only an attempt to examine whether there is any logical base in attributing scents to this or that odorous category.

For starters, the matter of whether leathery scents are a subdivision of chypres (as they do mostly contain the basic accord)or a seperate category termed Leather/Cuir (according to the French Society of Perfumers) is significant. Going by that leathery and oftentimes tobacco scents very often do smell rather more masculine; such as the various Cuir de Russie versions (Chanel, Creed, Piver etc), Miss Balmain and Jolie madame by Balmain, Caron's fierce Yatagan and smoky Tabac Blond , or Bandit by Piguet, lost semi-legend Jules by Dior and Bel Ami by Hèrmes. You will notice that there is a proliferation of both -marketed as- masculine and feminine scents in the above. Should we or shouldn't we classify them under chypre? The matter remains open for discussion.

Another cross-polination happens, involving woody undertones.
An example that would implicate those as well as a whiff of leathery castoreum is Antaeus by Chanel. Decidely butch, pheromonic almost and a powerhouse, it came out in 1981 by in-house perfumer Jacques Polge. It contains the pungency of male sweat and animalistic nuances with honeyed touches and much as I love it, I can't bring myself to don it on my person. The official notes listed (clary sage, lavender, myrrtle, labdanum, patchouli) do not include the classic accord of chypre despite the cool opening on an earthy animalistic background, yet one is hit with such a composition that might remind one of the family.
Shiseido's Basala is another one, as well as the original Armani Pour Homme.
There is some argument that coniferous elements such as pine essence as witnessed in Pino Sylvestre could be included in a subdivision of chypre.

The flip side of this confusion would be the lighter citrusy notes that might blurr the line between hesperidic and chypre. As chypre compositions contain a discernible citrusy pong via the inlusion of Calabrian bergamot, the notion isn't too far off.
Chanel Pour Monsieur could be such an example. Elegant, refined, conceived while Coco Chanel was still alive, it pays tribute to all the famous men she had known. Created in 1951 by Henri Robert, second nose in la maison Chanel after legendary Ernest Beaux, it plays on a sharp and clean citrusy top that includes lemon, petit grain (the essence rendered from the twigs and leaves of the Seville bitter orange tree, Citrus aurantium) and neroli (the distilled essence of the flowers). It then segues to spicy notes of cardamon and white pepper that invite you closer, only to end on a whiff of cedar and vetiver that retains freshness and discretion for the wearer. Perhaps citrus-aromatic would be a closer categorisation.

And there are various decidedly masculine propositions that reek of the pungency of patchouli and vetiver, notes that are so much used for the modern chypres of the last few years.

Givenchy Gentleman, which is sometimes described as a woody oriental, is a beast of a patchouli perfume that remains untamed even though its name would suggest hand kisses and opening doors for you. He does, but then ravages you, ripping your bra off.
The original Aramis for Men could be another case in point, especially given -again!- the suave name that would belie its intentions that open on a crisp note of artemisia and bergamot. It has of course intense woodiness too, thanks to sandal, but with the elements of a classic chypre in place as well. Coupled with a pinstripe suit it goes out to the City to trade stocks and in the lunch break goes off for supposedly a gym session that is in reality an illicit tryst.
Why do such powerful and assertive masculine fragrances are given names that imply a more gentle approach? This could be the subject of another post...


For the time being, please offer your suggestions on masculine chypres and the reason why you classify them thus.

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