The notes of Rose d’Homme can only be described as extremely obvious – I found it very easy to deconstruct. One gets exactly what one was promised, and what’s more, at the exact sequence that was promised too! The opening comprises of spicy citrus that smells positively aged, so reminiscent of vintage French cologne that it easily brought back the same feelings of guilt I once got as a toddler when I accidentally spilled the remnants of an old fragrance my grandmother’s brother had brought back from Paris and was unable to wash off my hands to hide the evidence. The woody, citrus opening soon softens enough to allow lavender and hay to permeate the surface, lending the fragrance an intensely soapy and slightly powdery feel. I have to say that this is most certainly not my favorite rendition of lavender, but then again none of the notes in Rose d’Homme show their best side to my senses. In fact, the more the development progresses, the more trouble I have finding things to appreciate about this fragrance. At the drydown stage, a soft, old-fashioned rose is struggling to disentangle itself from the oppressing, cruel embrace of leather infused with patchouli. It is at this point I usually decide this must be some sort of noxious poison meant for the male skin. And it is certainly not the skin of a long-lashed dandy, but that of an oily, heavy-set man, whose leer I’d rather avoid. It can be described as mature, and not in a good way. Despite my obvious disappointment and current dislike of Rose d’Homme I do have to admit that it does deserve attention. It is not a run of the mill male fragrance that is likely to produce a yawn. If there is one thing that has remained constant since my initial evaluation, is its state of uniqueness when compared to current releases. For that reason, I do wholeheartedly suggest that it be experienced at least once. Who knows, perhaps you can appreciate it more than I do.
The image is the work of Leslie Hancock, sourced from photo.net