Eau de Monsieur
Goutal (1980)

I must confess that I'm struggling to see much a difference between Eau de Monsieur and Eau d'Hadrien except for the speed in which they approach the dry down. I must also be fully transparent that I am trying a new formulation EdM, which - like most masculines post-2000 - suffers from the banning of oakmoss, a classic note of masculine perfumes yet to be truly replicated in a lab. Hear told that new Goutal formulations are, generally speaking, woeful. I haven't tried enough new formulations to say one way or another. The opening notes of EdM, just like EdH, are shimmering, photorealistic, juicy bergamot and lemon and a green herbaceous accord. It very, very, very quickly proceeds to the final dry down of geranium, it seems, and extraordinarily light sandalwoods and patchouli. The base notes are so light that there is almost no earthiness, spiciness, or milkiness to them at all, as if they have been sundried and refined so much with time that all that is left is a clean, shimmering, resinous quality that is so quiet it's almost musk and soap like. One side of me loves this fragrance because it's a reminder of what masculine perfumes were, could - and perhaps should - be: there's no need for heavy screeching woods and earthy notes, there is merit in a man simply smelling fresh, light, and citrusy clean. The other side of me says that EdM could be a bit more confident in getting to this point. It lacks volume, strength, and longevity even by EdT standards, as if it wants to make a contrary statement about modern masculine perfumery but it knows it's an outlier, and, lacking confidence, says its point way too meekly. Perhaps one day I will get to smell an original EdM from the 1980s that's in impeccable condition. I would very much like to. Maybe in that original formulation the message is clearer and more compelling. In this version for today, it smells the way perfume enthusiasts like myself feel about the state of modern masculine perfumery: resigned.

Eau de Monsieur was Annick Goutal’s first release and it’s hard to imagine a more confident debut.
It’s citrus and mossy woods in the style of the existing models: Chanel Pour Monsieur and Eau Sauvage, but it takes a different direction to those, with an amber note that warms the woody baseline, and a theme like star anise, pink rubber candy & ice cream wafer.

The rubbery note harks back to Knize Ten and the work of Coty, and the anisic note is a reference to Azzaro pour Homme. But, despite the weight of tradition, (along with l’Artisan’s spiced coffee scent Eau du Navigateur that soon followed) Eau de Monsieur opened up a new and modern gourmand sensibility.
This put Goutal in direct opposition to Roudnitska’s anti-gourmand over-ripe melon theme in Diorella, and way beyond Henri Robert’s non-gourmand Pour Monsieur.

Goutal clearly had the imagination to hold her own against the likes of Robert and Roudnitska (perhaps it was her training as a concert pianist that gave her the power to interpret a given theme) but as a neophyte she didn’t have the technique of a grandmaster and - as a consequence - Eau de Monsieur was well blended but rather straightforward (at least compared to Eau Sauvage).
Nevertheless, it had a warm woody citrus and (somehow spicy) biscuit allure, a bit like gourmand Eau Neuve crossed with Yohji Homme; subtle, low odour-yield but very nice.

Being the product of a conservative industry, perfume progresses in baby steps most of the time, so it would be easy to write off Eau de Monsieur as just a pleasant and tentative masculine which is none too remarkable. But as Colbourne mentions in relation to l’Eau du Navigateur, this was 80’s niche, or possibly proto-niche from today’s perspective, and the masculine gourmand - which may now seem rather tame - was probably quite radical back then.

Sadly, the original version was replaced by another formula in 2013.
The gods giveth and the gods taketh away.

A decent citrus opening gives way to not much in particular. I don't experience this as overly sour or bitter, and it is certainly "natural" in some sense...I get oakmoss and musk in the same volume after many hours as at the beginning.

However, it's so low-powered that it reminds me of those Warner Bros cartoons where the protagonist's body turns to rubber, having encountered some mishap, and the bottom part struggles to catch up with the top. Here, it's as though the composition is struggling to communicate a coherent whole at any volume. For these reasons, and for reasons of unremarkable construction, I don't see this as superior to most Trumpers, at less than half the price.

The opening is a citrus affair; mainly a fresh lemon on me, bright and uplifting.

After about twenty minutes the drydown sets in, staring off with a few floral moments involving geranium mainly. Soon, a very soft but nonetheless spicy and musky immortelle can be traced, but the spice and the musk and very smooth and are neither strong nor harsh on me. A comparatively soft oakmoss rises gradually at that stage, an oakmoss that is neither harsh nor strong on me.

Interestingly, whilst the lemony too toes has disappeared a while ago, after a couple of hours I get citrus again in the background, but this time is it more a mandarin that is dimly glowing in the back and which, most unusual for such a type of note, last until nearly the end.

The base adds mainly a woodsy tone that has characteristics of sandalwood in it, but at times comes across as somewhat nonspecific. A soft amber is also resent, a very soft amber indeed, that blends in well with the glowing mandarin in the background.

I get moderate sillage, good projection and eight hours of longevity on my skin, with the second half being quite close to my skin.

A classic summery lemon-infused scent that displays several qualities that declare it as a combined citrus-chypre creation. The ingredients are mostly of a high quality, and whilst the second half falls off a bit as far and the intensity and the typicality of the notes is concerned, the the development is interesting enough to enthuse throughout. Overall 3.5/5.

A very elegant, lemony scent with some Sandalwood, Amber, and Oakmoss sitting in the background-an old school type pf fragrance, but not necessarily barbershop-ish. Eau de Monsieur has a sharp classic feel to it; this is a (manly) gentleman's scent...

...picture a distinguished gentlemen, walking under a street light wearing a trench coat, scarf, leather gloves a top hat heading into a city restaurant-giving him that sophisticated look and to finish it off he's wearing Annick Goutal's Eau de Monsieur!!

Projection-1-2ft
Longevity-6-7 hours
Silage-average

Overall, a nice linear fragrance.

At first sniff Eau de Monsieur could easily be taken as a traditional cologne. A clean, clear citrus combined with a slightly resinous green accord opens the fragrance. But quite quickly I pick up the oakmoss note and this removes the scent from the traditional cologne category. This fragrance shows its age: it is a traditional chypre and that is not necessarily a bad thing. Eau de Monsieur is done well enough that it holds its own among today's fragrances. Its clean, enjoyable opening its delicate and deft implementation of oakmoss in the heart accord; and its elegant drydown of sandalwood and amber all hold up well against today's other fragrance offerings. A thoroughly pleasant and well-made fragrance, especially for those not put off by its lack of synthetic ambiance and its use of oakmoss.