A rosier, sweeter verson of Cuir d'Ange. I found Cuir d'Ange too leather dominant, which is fine if you're looking for it, but I wanted it balanced with something else. The rose, which can sometimes lean a bit sour, seems to complement the leather. There are no conflicting notes; it just seems to blend together nicely.
The price is a bit off-putting, but I like the smell enough to give it a thumbs up.
The ever thriving debate of designer and niche amongst certain circles continues to bemuse me: why is there so much emphasis on this distinction, and why are there so many attempts for a solid delineation between the two? In the multi-century history of fragrance, through most of that time, there was none of this nonsense. Whenever I am folded into this frivolity, I just mention Hermes as a prime example of where a so-called 'designer' house can release fragrances that runs circles around so many modern "niche" offerings. Hell, they have the budget for talented noses, quality materials, and they are a designer house that clearly puts effort into maintaining reputation.
Case in point: Galop d'Hermes. This is not a mainstream, 'crown-pleasing' fragrance, but neither isn't completely inaccessible and challenging. It's fragrance symmetry with a few flourishes for interest. Classicism gilded with modern flair. From the top, we have this aromatic, somewhat astringent quince coupled with a plush saffron: sillage for days. Jammy osmanthus (perhaps a wee bit of the absolute with Apritone?) and a dash of rose oxide soon enters the scene, priming us for the supple suede leather. Here I feel like I am a leather book incarnate, and I kinda love it. It's as if I am announcing that I have some stories to tell.
This is reliably unisex and has a versatility that belies its style. For every season there's a reason to Galop. And for those hung up on performance: do yourself a favor and stop worrying. This one is meant as a sensual simmer for several hours. The Hermes minimalism (Nagel does follow the Ellena playbook quite nicely here) keeps the fragrance from feeling tired and nagging. Quite nice in my book, I must say...for a designer (wink).
This is a gorgeous fragrance. My only wish is that the price point weren't so outrageous. I love the scent, I love the bottle, and I...haven't been able to pull the trigger to spend $220 on one perfume. Instead I got a small rollerball from the Perfumed Court, which I treasure. And meanwhile, I periodically look to see if the price has dropped. I'm obsessed.
As a horse girl temporarily away from horses during the pandemic, this is the most beautiful leather scent that I've tried. It's soft and really does smell like an expensive, clean saddle. But it's wearable. It's expensive, and it smells like it's expensive.
I held it up to my partner's nose after writing the previous paragraph, and he said: "It smells expensive." And he wasn't reading over my shoulder, either.
There is a rose in the opening blast, which is a bit unusual in that it is a rose, a rose that is a rose that is a rose (Sorry, Ms Stein). I mean it is focused on the rose blossom, but just the stem and the rose leaves, as is the case in many contemporary rose-based fragrances. An unequivocally pleasant rose impression.
The drydown brings in a soft, gentle bit quite convincing suede note; Doblis leather of which some Kelly bags are made of. Kelly or no Kelly, this is a lovely, albeit a bit linear, suede: soft, smooth, and in the brighter side.
Later on a fruity quince comes to the fore, as comes a saffron that is rather bland and anaemic; maybe a crash course given by Comptoir Sud Pacifique about how they created Sultan Safran might help Hermès in that matter.
I get moderate sillage, good projection and eight hours of longevity on my skin.
This scent for warmer autumn or cooler spring day starts quite nicely, but the second half turns increasingly less enticing. Still, apart from the bottle design that is a bit naff, in all its simplicity this is quite an interesting concept that is not without a touch of originality. Overall just barely a positive score. 3/5.
I totally ignored this one until Turin reviewed it. I hated the bottle, I hated the weird quince note....but mostly I hated the price.
Anyway, after a kind transaction with a fellow BNer, I am now in possession of a bottle.
I still hate the bottle, even if it is very well built and quality feeling. I still don't love the quince. But that rose, be still my heart. It's so natural, dark, and beautiful. The leather is a nice backdrop, though mostly before the drydown (weird).
You don't always smell a rose that smells so real, but not the pretty parts, the weird notes you only pickup on after smelling the flower too many times. It's damp, off-putting, and authentic.
This is where that annoying quince comes in. It turns the rose fruity, to the point of almost smelling of osmanthus (Rosemanthus(TM)). I love me some osmanthus, but I just want that stunning rose accord to dominate, which it eventually does once the fruity notes tame themselves.
I will say that I mostly spray this on fabric, because I find wearing it can be a bit intense, and the price is still absurd, but so be it.