Reviews of Bon Monsieur by Rogue Perfumery
Bon Monsieur is not a creative perfume. At least, not inside the genre from which it springs. Its title tells the story—not quite phatic, but something you offer when earnestness is actually due: “Thank you, good sir.” A courteous formality already undercut by shared intimacy, or at least the recognition that such formality is performative. In this sense, it's neither pure nostalgia nor parody. It's honest, but that honesty is not merely revivalist banality or false humility. It's something more strangely brave—a faintly effete, mutual acknowledgment of the devil in every room: symbolic castration.
Then we get repetition with a difference, a Hegelian bone caught in the throat, or something like Deleuzian recurrence, where the past persists as pure misidentified negation—a queer anti-mistake, a refusal of bland genealogical generativity—and is made newly functional within the shifting contours of the impossibly parallax “self.” Bon Monsieur doesn't aspire to be Drakkar Noir, Tsar, or Bois de Portugal. It rejects a place within that lineage and offers instead a “crisp, green masculinity” stripped of any naïve confidence—masculinity as form without belief.
Das Man after the fallen phallus of Babel: it is clear that Bon Monsieur is in dialogue with the well-populated crowd of the old guard—the perfumes mentioned above, but also vetiver-and-tonka/vanilla bombs like Lalique pour Homme Lion or New York Intense. But this is purely archeological. In nearly all, there is the same backbone: fuzzy moss and sandalwood, virtue in freshness, and a wink toward a clean character. Bon Monsieur doesn't attempt to translate their excess, their chatter (whether pine, resin, elevated lavender, or bright bergamot—whatever the particular instance or clade may yield). It documents instead the aftermath—the fracture of history itself. There is no nightmare from which to awake. Lucky for us.
Rogue’s version of “this is a man” feels softer and more ecological (indie jobs can do this well). Lavender and oakmoss are the stars here, and they are really good. We don't get sweaty herbs to reify some ideology of pheromonal acquisitiveness, no armpit patchouli or jockstrap musk in the base to signal confidence wilting under anxiety, no overdose of fluffy coumarin or tonka sweetness to stage a theatrical “soft side.” Just citrus, mildly peppery geranium, mossy greenness, a faintly soapy floral heart, and a smooth cedar–sandalwood base. The signature Rogue pine appears in the drydown, but even that is subdued.
This perfume is an achievement. It yokes itself to an overdetermined masculine form and rides into admirable neutrality, pulling the composition just outside of history while leaving the grammar and memory intact. Ultimately, it's a quiet reanimation of the materials, if not entirely the structure, of belief.
Rogue’s catalogue includes several attempts at this alchemy—Targhee Forest, Mousse Illuminée, for instance—but none approach the peculiar nobility here. It's an ideological Edelgas: inert, self-composed, strangely aloof. You might call it catlike, and for that reason, ideal.
Then we get repetition with a difference, a Hegelian bone caught in the throat, or something like Deleuzian recurrence, where the past persists as pure misidentified negation—a queer anti-mistake, a refusal of bland genealogical generativity—and is made newly functional within the shifting contours of the impossibly parallax “self.” Bon Monsieur doesn't aspire to be Drakkar Noir, Tsar, or Bois de Portugal. It rejects a place within that lineage and offers instead a “crisp, green masculinity” stripped of any naïve confidence—masculinity as form without belief.
Das Man after the fallen phallus of Babel: it is clear that Bon Monsieur is in dialogue with the well-populated crowd of the old guard—the perfumes mentioned above, but also vetiver-and-tonka/vanilla bombs like Lalique pour Homme Lion or New York Intense. But this is purely archeological. In nearly all, there is the same backbone: fuzzy moss and sandalwood, virtue in freshness, and a wink toward a clean character. Bon Monsieur doesn't attempt to translate their excess, their chatter (whether pine, resin, elevated lavender, or bright bergamot—whatever the particular instance or clade may yield). It documents instead the aftermath—the fracture of history itself. There is no nightmare from which to awake. Lucky for us.
Rogue’s version of “this is a man” feels softer and more ecological (indie jobs can do this well). Lavender and oakmoss are the stars here, and they are really good. We don't get sweaty herbs to reify some ideology of pheromonal acquisitiveness, no armpit patchouli or jockstrap musk in the base to signal confidence wilting under anxiety, no overdose of fluffy coumarin or tonka sweetness to stage a theatrical “soft side.” Just citrus, mildly peppery geranium, mossy greenness, a faintly soapy floral heart, and a smooth cedar–sandalwood base. The signature Rogue pine appears in the drydown, but even that is subdued.
This perfume is an achievement. It yokes itself to an overdetermined masculine form and rides into admirable neutrality, pulling the composition just outside of history while leaving the grammar and memory intact. Ultimately, it's a quiet reanimation of the materials, if not entirely the structure, of belief.
Rogue’s catalogue includes several attempts at this alchemy—Targhee Forest, Mousse Illuminée, for instance—but none approach the peculiar nobility here. It's an ideological Edelgas: inert, self-composed, strangely aloof. You might call it catlike, and for that reason, ideal.
Original formula Speed Stick men’s deodorant, back when it was that weird emerald color gel that stayed in stick form. Yep, this is that.
Except better, obviously. Much better. While the opening of Bon Monsieur took me down the memory lane of my father’s old toiletries, the rest of it doesn’t smell anything like that men’s bargain deodorant. This is a straight-up old school barbershop fougere with a new lick of high gloss paint. The florals are restrained in favor of the oakmoss and wood notes, which dominate the majority of the perfume’s life. The lavender is also more restrained than I thought it would be. The point of barbershop fougeres is to smell “clean” after your trip to the barber, and lavender’s herbal soapy character has been serving that purpose without fail for a very long time. Its lower voice in Bon Monsieur means that this fougere has a less “clean” quality than what we’re used to for the genre. The greater amplification of damp and earthy moss, cedar, and sandalwood actually gives this fougere a bit of a dirty character. Though, when I say dirty I mean the equivalent of a smudge on the kitchen counter versus a squeaky-clean shine.
And that’s really about it. Simple stuff that smells simple, wears simple, and simply smells good. Rogue has taken the barbershop fougere off of the old tube tv and upscaled it to 4k, and it looks pretty darn good.
Except better, obviously. Much better. While the opening of Bon Monsieur took me down the memory lane of my father’s old toiletries, the rest of it doesn’t smell anything like that men’s bargain deodorant. This is a straight-up old school barbershop fougere with a new lick of high gloss paint. The florals are restrained in favor of the oakmoss and wood notes, which dominate the majority of the perfume’s life. The lavender is also more restrained than I thought it would be. The point of barbershop fougeres is to smell “clean” after your trip to the barber, and lavender’s herbal soapy character has been serving that purpose without fail for a very long time. Its lower voice in Bon Monsieur means that this fougere has a less “clean” quality than what we’re used to for the genre. The greater amplification of damp and earthy moss, cedar, and sandalwood actually gives this fougere a bit of a dirty character. Though, when I say dirty I mean the equivalent of a smudge on the kitchen counter versus a squeaky-clean shine.
And that’s really about it. Simple stuff that smells simple, wears simple, and simply smells good. Rogue has taken the barbershop fougere off of the old tube tv and upscaled it to 4k, and it looks pretty darn good.
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It's a barbershop right? I'm sure it's great for fans of the style, a bit wet for my taste but it really leans transparent and has something to do with azzaro pour homme and gucci nobile, but I've been thinking about those a lot lately. Super clean and put together, could definitely wear it anywhere
Having tried and failed to obtain a sample of Bon Monsieur, I bit the bullet and bought a bottle from the excellent Slickboys web site in their Black Friday sale. I'm glad I did.
Testing on paper reveals a bergamot note when sniffing around the atomiser. The paper itself reveals, first and most of all, a strong evergreen / fir note. This reaches "Radox" levels, for those familiar with the UK bath soak brand, at and this point some doubt creeps in. Soon, though, a lavender accord joined the party, and later in the day the strip dried down with oakmoss and a touch of woods and musk. Testing on skin is a similar experience although the freshness remains for longer and the musky drydown takes more time to appear.
A few points: for me BM has more of an edge than housemate Fougere l'Aube, and is all round a better scent. Part of this is personal preference, of course, as the Cool Water end of the fougere spectrum does not really appeal. (Fougere l'Aube gets around this with sheer quality and the excellent drydown.)
More pointedly: BM for me hits the mark more or less in the centre as a fougere of classic influences with a few modern appointments. It is still easily detectable on skin after a good 14 hours of wear. It never takes over like the fougeres of yore, making it eminently suitable for office wear. I'm nonplussed to see price or value for money brought into the equation here. My Black Friday price was 79GBP for 50ml. Bear in mind the sketchy UK availability, the import costs, the fact that Turin & Sanchez talk about the $100 cartel-style minimum pricing for anything of quality nowadays, and BM becomes a good value proposition. This could easily be second-bottle-worthy. Time will tell.
Testing on paper reveals a bergamot note when sniffing around the atomiser. The paper itself reveals, first and most of all, a strong evergreen / fir note. This reaches "Radox" levels, for those familiar with the UK bath soak brand, at and this point some doubt creeps in. Soon, though, a lavender accord joined the party, and later in the day the strip dried down with oakmoss and a touch of woods and musk. Testing on skin is a similar experience although the freshness remains for longer and the musky drydown takes more time to appear.
A few points: for me BM has more of an edge than housemate Fougere l'Aube, and is all round a better scent. Part of this is personal preference, of course, as the Cool Water end of the fougere spectrum does not really appeal. (Fougere l'Aube gets around this with sheer quality and the excellent drydown.)
More pointedly: BM for me hits the mark more or less in the centre as a fougere of classic influences with a few modern appointments. It is still easily detectable on skin after a good 14 hours of wear. It never takes over like the fougeres of yore, making it eminently suitable for office wear. I'm nonplussed to see price or value for money brought into the equation here. My Black Friday price was 79GBP for 50ml. Bear in mind the sketchy UK availability, the import costs, the fact that Turin & Sanchez talk about the $100 cartel-style minimum pricing for anything of quality nowadays, and BM becomes a good value proposition. This could easily be second-bottle-worthy. Time will tell.
Bon Monsieur is quickly becoming one of my favourite scents. Oakmoss and lavender dominate the smell, reminds me of a cross between the oakmoss driven Paco Rabanne pour homme and the lavender driven vibe of Duc de Vervins or Drakkar Noir. If you like any of those scents this one is an absolute must smell
I can describe this one in a few words... soapy, green, pine, old school. As usual, the oakmoss is very nice in this gem. Really like what they did with this one. They kept it simple but very good. 7.5/10
Rogue Perfumery has gone rogue, once thumbing its nose at IFRA restrictions on key fougere ingredients such as oakmoss. Bon Monsieur, released in 2020, is a natural, classic, refined and 1980’s. The impressive result is a modern take on the 1980’s style fougere, in the vein of Gucci Nobile, Drakkar Noir, Duc de Vervins L’Extreme, and Tsar by Van Cleef & Arpels. Bon Monsieur is a green, coniferous, lavender, mossy classic that delivers the fougere goods. Notes include lavender, oakmoss, cedarwood, geranium, sage, rosemary, thyme, fir, bergamot, patchouli, carnation, sandalwood, musk, and Lily-of-the Valley. The fragrance has adequate, though not great, longevity. Sillage is just moderate. The fragrance is casual and good for year round use, except in very warm weather.
Bon Monsieur’s quality craftsmanship is becoming more difficult to achieve today given note limitations and changes in consumer taste. Fragrances like Bon Monsieur are like cars with compact disc players. They no longer exist. Rogue has done a great service to the perfume world, bringing a high-quality classic fougere back from the doldrums. Bon Monsieur gets a big thumbs up.
Bon Monsieur’s quality craftsmanship is becoming more difficult to achieve today given note limitations and changes in consumer taste. Fragrances like Bon Monsieur are like cars with compact disc players. They no longer exist. Rogue has done a great service to the perfume world, bringing a high-quality classic fougere back from the doldrums. Bon Monsieur gets a big thumbs up.
Musky lavender and pine, over a bed of creamy woods and moss (of course, the 'non-ifra compliant marketing required a blast of moss, right? Too bad its heavy smokiness buries the nice woody note). Average performance on my skin.
"Bon" in French means "good". And it is exactly that: a just good fougere. But it doesn't do a lot more than that, and doesn't stand out from the sea of other good fougeres. Please don't misread me: the sandalwood note is good. But I'm not sure why one should opt for that one over Lalique pour Homme that does the exact same job, and currently retails for ~$30 (for a large bottle), or Houbigant DdV for ~$40. Or now that I'm into comparisons: even Pierre Cardin Pour Monsieur, which is slightly different, but as an even more delightful sandalwood note for under... $20.
Disappointing, and nor the woods, nor the moss will save the house from the flames. I don't see any valid reason to be generous with reviews at that price point. Not bad, just utterly forgettable. Hard pass for me.
"Bon" in French means "good". And it is exactly that: a just good fougere. But it doesn't do a lot more than that, and doesn't stand out from the sea of other good fougeres. Please don't misread me: the sandalwood note is good. But I'm not sure why one should opt for that one over Lalique pour Homme that does the exact same job, and currently retails for ~$30 (for a large bottle), or Houbigant DdV for ~$40. Or now that I'm into comparisons: even Pierre Cardin Pour Monsieur, which is slightly different, but as an even more delightful sandalwood note for under... $20.
Disappointing, and nor the woods, nor the moss will save the house from the flames. I don't see any valid reason to be generous with reviews at that price point. Not bad, just utterly forgettable. Hard pass for me.
Wow! I was expecting soo much more from this, I don't dislike it I just think its underwhelming. This reminds me of one of those character actors from TV serial drama s the ones you'd recognise but never really bother to even learn their names, and every household would know him/her from something and would have a nickname for them "Oh its him from that show …y'know 'Sad wet cop'! cause he's always a sad wet cop in these things"
That what this is like It's successful in composition that, weirdly it hits the mark dead centre for what is supposed to be. Its a barbershop fougere and it is exactly that, no mistaking there's nothing startlingly different about it, which I think is possibly a curse more than a failing. I am not moved by its innovation but I do have a respect for its creation but I'm totally indifferent to it at the same time.
That what this is like It's successful in composition that, weirdly it hits the mark dead centre for what is supposed to be. Its a barbershop fougere and it is exactly that, no mistaking there's nothing startlingly different about it, which I think is possibly a curse more than a failing. I am not moved by its innovation but I do have a respect for its creation but I'm totally indifferent to it at the same time.
Bon Monsieur is almost as captivating as Tabac Vert, but it doesn't last as long on me. Don't get me wrong, I bought it. I love it. It is similar to Duc de Vervins, (which I also own) but is not as over powering; and much easier to wear. Yes, it does harken back to the powerhouse scents of the '80s, but it is better, it is easier to modulate the volume, if you will. As with all the Rogue fragrances I have tried, the dry down is where the magic is for me. The first 30 minutes are fine, wonderful, terrific, however, once the evolution begins, then the magic happens. What seems to be a somewhat formal and "work" scent melds into something more personal, more intimate and different. Is it sexy? Not sure, I don't think so, not overtly...but it may attract someone you want to attract, by its suavity and sophistication, those qualities are sexy too. But it is not as sexy as Tabac Vert. You might choose to wear Bon Monsieur for day; and Tabac Vert for evenings. That's something of a guess, if you use your fragrances that way. But I am ok with either at any time. Anyway, another big win for Manuel Cross. The classic becomes the new and innovative. So it is in my book a modern classic. A wonderful fragrance.
It's true. This is and old school, buttoned up, traditional barbershop Fougere. BUT I love it so much. I think it's the combination of Geranium and CARNATION, buttressing the Lavender and Bergamot that takes this into "perfect" territory for me. Carnation is an under-appreciated note and I just can't resist when its done right. Rogue seems to agree on this point and it's that appreciation for judicious Carnation that made me fall in love with the brand's Tabac Vert as well.
A polite, welcoming, smooth Fougere.
The notes are a Fougere and it cannot be confused with another scent category. Given the classic notes, the composition has its own great scent. I liken it to brownie recipes. Brownie ingredients are the same, but we've all had incredible brownies and bad brownies. The difference is in the very slight variation in the ingredient amounts and the skill/experience of the baker. Bon Monsieur is very well done as a Fougere. Highly enjoyable. Pleasing. Manuel Cross did a great job with the scent. This Fougere is tart with a very light wisp of sweetness while keeping bitterness to a minimum.
It's often the case that a 'loud' Fougere can be off-putting to strangers. Some notes in Fougeres can be piercing and overwhelm one's senses. Bon Monsieur does not come off this way in public. The sillage is not beastly from what I have experienced, but certainly not muted. My 'guess' is that the quality of the ingredients are top of the line 'modern' components. I don't get any tannins or unwanted bitter sparks like I smell in most old vintage Fougeres....and for most people today that is a good thing because this smells 'modern' yet retains the classic Fougere notes that are unmistakable.
The refinement lends this fragrance a classy, civilized presentation, not brutish or garish. There is deliberate control and skill on display with this scent. This is definitely a more mass-pleasing fragrance that retains a natural and even niche category.
The longevity is very good. Lasts all day.
This is among the best Fougeres I've smelled and it has a modern smoothness. 5 out of 5 stars. You get what you pay for on this one.
The notes are a Fougere and it cannot be confused with another scent category. Given the classic notes, the composition has its own great scent. I liken it to brownie recipes. Brownie ingredients are the same, but we've all had incredible brownies and bad brownies. The difference is in the very slight variation in the ingredient amounts and the skill/experience of the baker. Bon Monsieur is very well done as a Fougere. Highly enjoyable. Pleasing. Manuel Cross did a great job with the scent. This Fougere is tart with a very light wisp of sweetness while keeping bitterness to a minimum.
It's often the case that a 'loud' Fougere can be off-putting to strangers. Some notes in Fougeres can be piercing and overwhelm one's senses. Bon Monsieur does not come off this way in public. The sillage is not beastly from what I have experienced, but certainly not muted. My 'guess' is that the quality of the ingredients are top of the line 'modern' components. I don't get any tannins or unwanted bitter sparks like I smell in most old vintage Fougeres....and for most people today that is a good thing because this smells 'modern' yet retains the classic Fougere notes that are unmistakable.
The refinement lends this fragrance a classy, civilized presentation, not brutish or garish. There is deliberate control and skill on display with this scent. This is definitely a more mass-pleasing fragrance that retains a natural and even niche category.
The longevity is very good. Lasts all day.
This is among the best Fougeres I've smelled and it has a modern smoothness. 5 out of 5 stars. You get what you pay for on this one.
I would describe Bon Monsieur as a green aromatic floral scent. It opens up with some refreshing lemony bergamot with the presence of a number florals in particular geranium and lavender. Green, airy, clean, and invigorating right from the start. The opening notes dials down a bit revealing even more greenness in the heart. The geranium and lavender are greeted by some pines (fir balsam) and hints of lily of the valley. The musk becomes noticeable in the later stages of development and eventually the oak moss paired with wood notes (cedar and sandalwood) joins of what is remaining of the florals at the drydown. The scent has a very retro feel, specifically the late 1980s when Gucci Nobile and Van Cleef & Arpels Tsar were first released - I think of these two scents when I smell Bon Monsieur. Performance was decent overall with moderate silage early on before staying closer to the skin. Well done Manny!
Bon Monsieur opens with a nose tingling combination of sharp bergamot citrus and aromatic lavender with green coniferous fir balsam in support before transitioning to its heart. As the composition enters its early heart, the aromatic lavender remains in full force, eschewing its prior bergamot companion, with the coniferous green fir balsam growing in strength to become co-star, bolstered by significant tree moss from the base, and soft carnation and slightly minty geranium floral support. During the late dry-down the composition softens, as it becomes slightly less green with the fir balsam receding, unveiling soft, non-animalic musk, and a dry cedar and sandalwood tandem that joins with remnants of the moss in support through the finish. Projection is excellent to outstanding, and longevity excellent at well over 12 hours on skin.
I had high hopes for Bon Monsieur when it was announced. Rogue has produced so many winners that a "masculine" targeted perfume would likely be another, encouraging me to skip the sampling stage and move directly to buying a bottle blind. Now having received my bottle and wearing it multiple times I can definitely say Rogue has another stellar offering on its hands. Unfortunately, this one is an old school aromatic lavender and tree moss laden fougere that has more than a passing resemblance to the late 80s Tsar by Van Cleef & Arpels that I already own, sans most of Tsar's sweetness and with greater performance. Tsar is no slouch, so comparisons (and dare I say improvements) over it are laudable, but Tsar, like most aromatic fougeres, always came close to winning me over but never *quite* got me to love, and Bon Monsieur similarly comes up just short. If one already owns vintage Tsar I personally don't think investing in Bon Monsieur needed, but if you love Tsar and don't own it, this one improves on the already successful classic aromatic fougere formula and should be a mandatory sample, if not a blind buy. The bottom line is the $156 per 75ml bottle Bon Monsieur may not have quite stolen *my* heart, but its quality is quite apparent and it may just steal yours, earning a "very good" 3.5 stars out of 5 rating and a strong recommendation to lovers, but not owners of Tsar and similar aromatic lavender fougeres.
I had high hopes for Bon Monsieur when it was announced. Rogue has produced so many winners that a "masculine" targeted perfume would likely be another, encouraging me to skip the sampling stage and move directly to buying a bottle blind. Now having received my bottle and wearing it multiple times I can definitely say Rogue has another stellar offering on its hands. Unfortunately, this one is an old school aromatic lavender and tree moss laden fougere that has more than a passing resemblance to the late 80s Tsar by Van Cleef & Arpels that I already own, sans most of Tsar's sweetness and with greater performance. Tsar is no slouch, so comparisons (and dare I say improvements) over it are laudable, but Tsar, like most aromatic fougeres, always came close to winning me over but never *quite* got me to love, and Bon Monsieur similarly comes up just short. If one already owns vintage Tsar I personally don't think investing in Bon Monsieur needed, but if you love Tsar and don't own it, this one improves on the already successful classic aromatic fougere formula and should be a mandatory sample, if not a blind buy. The bottom line is the $156 per 75ml bottle Bon Monsieur may not have quite stolen *my* heart, but its quality is quite apparent and it may just steal yours, earning a "very good" 3.5 stars out of 5 rating and a strong recommendation to lovers, but not owners of Tsar and similar aromatic lavender fougeres.