Le Roy Soleil Homme
Salvador Dali (1998)

Squeaky-clean, aromatic linalool fougère on the template of Calvin Klein’s Eternity for Men (1990), which inaugurated this profile for the decade of the ’90s. Le Roy Soleil Homme comes in at the tail-end of the trend (released in 1998). The titanic Gérard Anthony here works in not unfamiliar ground: the expertly architected, slightly phase-shifted, immodestly anachronistic mass-market men’s everyday perfume. But where his Balenciaga pour Homme by Balenciaga, released the same year as Eternity (1990), seems to be equally—and masterfully—drawing from the past (1980s hyper-masculinist powerhouse traditions) and sketching the future (one where profound oudy depths with sweetness and rich spice could bring the “West,” as Balenciaga said at the time, “The Power of Dreams”), Le Roy Soleil Homme looked only backwards (much like Anthony’s 1996 Homme de Grès by Grès: a fantastic offering). It very much smells stuck in the '90s.

In the open, there’s a little of Versace’s The Dreamer (1996)—a creamy citrus with smooth lavender and sage, just a hint of geranium—but the citrus of Le Roy Soleil Homme is clearly grapefruit, retaining creaminess without going bitter. It comes across as almost generically fruity in the opening. The lavender-woodiness that also defines this style is there immediately and is softened further by laundry musk that smells pleasant and inoffensive (like clean laundry!). There is peppery geranium, but it’s subtle and hard to differentiate from the rosewood that moves in within thirty minutes of wear. The jasmine materials and musk flesh out the heart until you get to a drier, cedary-sandalwood base that is mostly uninteresting but inoffensive. The whole thing is gone in maybe five hours: I take that back, on your skin, you will smell like classic Tide with some weird woody florals for eight hours maybe

It's hard not to mention what is functionally a copy of Le Roy Soleil Homme: that is Façonnable pour Homme by Façonnable (2017). The Façonnable is also a grossly anachronistic perfume that dutifully follows the Eternity template. The Façonnable armature and flesh deviate very little from the linalool-cedary-sandalwood end-product. Perhaps Le Roy Soleil Homme does not elevate the green rosemary woodiness and distinctly orangey citrus in the opening of the Façonnable as much. The Façonnable may have a more peppery geranium character in the open-to-mid and remains more gracile throughout the wear, staying truer to its dry cedar and sandalwood materials base. Le Roy Soleil Homme is a bit richer and has more depth overall, but they are so close to the same perfume, it’s hard to differentiate: get whichever is cheaper and available, if you’re interested.

Clean wear. Don’t have to think much. Smells good.

When I was young, my dear friend had a poster on his wall for the Swedish “death ’n’ roll” band Entombed to announce their newest record at the time, Wolverine Blues. It was a picture of X-Man Wolverine in attack mode with text that said, “Wake Up and Smell the ’90s!” That goes for this perfume.

Sadly, Le Roy Soleil Homme was not—and remains not—anywhere close to as influential as Entombed's seminal, genre-defining masterpiece.

Le Roy Soleil Homme (1998) is a tragically underappreciated late-comer in the "fresh fougère" game of the 1990's. Most prime examples of this genre had already been released and the style had trickled down to drugstore brands like Coty and American Crew, meaning it wasn't "special" enough for those wanting to be on-trend with the latest gourmands and ozonics or in the good graces of industry tastemakers, which were already moving on to the budding niche perfume phenomenon. However, Parfums Salvador Dali was never a contender with the big boys like Chanel or Dior anyway, and were about as "niche" as one could be on a designer-level budget thanks to the quirky surrealist stylings of the late namesake artist who founded the house just a few years prior to his death. Salvador Dali Pour Homme (1987) was a dark gothic dandy floral masterpiece composed by a young Thierry Wasser that still turns heads, while the posthumous follow-up Salvador (1991) was a mixed bag of vintage tricks conceived in part by Gérard Anthony and released to deaf ears. For anyone who knows their stuff about perfumers, Anthony is an often-unsung master of the fougère form, having co-composed both the classic Azzaro Pour Homme (1978) and the fresh fougère Paco Rabanne XS Pour Homme (1993), so bringing him back to do what he does best was a solid move for Salvador Dali if a bit late on timing. The fanciful packing of Le Roy Soleil Homme perfectly announces the complexity of the scent held within it, and had this perfume launched in the early 1990's instead of Salvador, the house may have had a breakout success on their hands rather than a fragrance which had mild success enough for a flanker over a decade later, but essentially has lived in discount bins for years.

The primary theme of Le Roy Soleil Homme is that of a fresh fougère imbued both with the "cleaned up" barbershop elements popular with the genre, the fruity aspects factored into the youth-targeting/people-pleasing variants of the style, and a more florid dandy-like complexity. This expanded and flamboyant build leads to a fresh fougère experience that is surprisingly sophisticated and anything but boring for a genre known to have "beige" tendencies in development. The opening of Le Roy Soleil is of the expected soft and fresh variety, with bergamot carrying aloft a lavender note with a fruity twist of papaya and rhubarb. A bit of Liz Claiborne Curve for Men (1996) is inferred here, but it doesn't makeup the meat of the perfume's personality as a dry down into a floral spicy dandy heart begins. A wondeful rose and jasmine hedione glow surrounds a crisp minty geranium note, with cinnamon and rosewood to add body. Imagine XS Pour Homme infused with bits of Caron Le 3éme Homme (1985) and you're pretty close in tone to the modern Fred Astaire tap dancing top hat and cane going on, but putting on the ritz doesn't end there. Vanilla, amber and patchouli smooth and warm things further, pulling the final phase into a mature finish alongside the expected light oakmoss and tonka. Le Roy Soleil never becomes heavy like the semi-oriental vibe of Le 3éme Homme can sometimes be, due overlaying all this with a clean laundry musk and dry cedar to keep within the 90's convention. The results are a vibrant semi-sweet and diffuse fougère that doesn't entirely fade and separate out into a boring wall of geranium and woody amber musk like many lesser varieties of the period.

Use Le Roy Soleil for day wear any time you would any other example from this mainstay genre of 90's masculine perfume, since these were made for general purpose to begin with, and indeed some ladies may in fact like Le Roy Soleil Homme too due to the fruity floral development that is part of it's tapestry. Le Roy Soleil Homme isn't powerful enough for cold weather, and may slightly stifle in strong humidity thanks to the vanilla, but the sky is the limit otherwise. As it is, Le Roy Soleil Homme is just a beautiful but semi-neglected "me too" fresh fougère appealing only to those looking for diamonds in the rough during a period of perfume history maligned by vintage collectors and niche snobs as their reasons for giving up on the mainstream. It wasn't discontinued during the height of its popularity due to the house changing ownership like with Gucci masculines of the period, isn't particularly challenging like the stuff Thierry Mugler was releasing, and never became a pet favorite of any modern influencers in the online fragrance community years later, so you won't earn any brownie points wearing it, but Le Roy Soleil Homme is just a populist style with a bizarrely niche level of refinement. Repackaged as a unisex perfume and upped in concentration, Le Roy Soleil Homme could easily sell in the 21st century, but sadly was a sunrise obscured by a cloud of clones during its own time. Sampling may be difficult unless you purchase a mini, but anyone into stuff like Creed Viking (2017) or Géranium Pour Monsieur by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle (2009) need to get a nose on Le Roy Soleil Homme, since this is quite the distinctive, classy, yet still friendly and approachable dumb reach you never knew existed. Thumbs up!

I love this perfume, it combines some floral with fruity notes, which is a unique blend ... Without refreshing citrus scent original, do not think this perfume more in Brazil, unfortunately ... I'm just a little bit, fragrance with unique personality ...

I had to register just because of this one. I haven't ever posted a review (this is all new to me) and this won't be much of one, but...

This stuff smells, on the initial spray, to me, like... celery. lol.

Not sure how I feel about it overall. It's not bad, but I think I like Salvador Dali for men better (overwhelming as it can be if not careful)

My, what a strange one... Le Roy Soleil smells mostly of melon and pepper, a common combination of late, but this was a creation of the nineties. There's a bit of orange and lots of underlying musk, but as pepper doesn't appear in the pyramid I suspect it's an accord caused by some of the dry woods used. The overall effect is like allowing fruit juice and lotion to sizzle on a person's sun-heated skin. It sounds strange, but it's pleasant. I'll have to wear this one to the beach to fully appreciate it.

My first whiff of LE ROY SOLEIL HOMME evoked shores of ivory white sands, opalescently clear blue waters, tanning lotions on sun-kissed skin and chilled pina coladas. But like a true Salvador Dali painting, it turns itself on the head and leaves me with a somewhat synthetic cedar and amber composition, with faintly metallic floral accords weaving in and out of the woods. Surreal indeed. Yet I found it hard to shake off a niggling sense of familiarity; the topnote reminding me of the 'musk and melon' accord in Paris Hilton for Men. Ripped off? Perhaps. But what is imitation if not a flattering nod to the Dali's marketability? The sunny bottle is cute enough but it is the intriguing yet refreshing juice that makes this perfect for summer. Add in a hefty discount and we've got ourselves a winner here. Life IS a beach.