Knize Ten 
Knize (1924)

I first siniffed Knize Ten more than 10 years ago when I received a small sample vile from a friend of mine. I remembered it as pretty raw, animalic with a "garage oils" like appeal to it. I owned this sample for a VERY long time (for more than 5 years) and suddenly all the water evaporated from the sample - all was left was the "perfume oil" - I probably could have taken a hint of high condensed ethanol, rinse the vile thorougly and use what is left - I didn't do that and I regret.

Nevertheless few months ago I ordered a full 50 ml (1.7 fl. oz) bottle from an auction. I can't really tell what year exactly it was produced but it smells way different from what I rememebered. The scent itself consists of two parts: flowers and leather. It seems to be much sweeter, a bit more complex and definitely more unisex than Knize Ten I got to know years ago. It's not necessarily a bad thing but my first impression was: dissapointment and let down. Despite this I tested, tested and tested further.

Longevity is 9-10 hours, sillage is good. I rather think it is an option for fall and winter, rather formal occasions than casual. I like to wear it when I'm wearing a suit, however fits to the leather jacket and a t-shirt as well.

I have to admit I appreciate Knize Ten for what it is, overall. The batches vary, but that's okay for me. Generally it's rather an unisex leaning towards masculine. However, fits well for women who like leather accords in perfumes and for men who like florals mixed into their leathers.

Few weeks ago I bought Dior's Cuir cannage and I'd say for some it might be a modern hommage to Knize Ten "from good, old days".

Knize Ten has this rewarding dustiness and understated animalic character that exudes class and history. I know that I am experiencing heritage when I spray this on, and can see how such a fragrance has garnered much acclaim. It embodies the characteristics of a leather frag while pulling the punches and allowing the florals to breathe and blossom. The castoreum, while more than evident, does not suffocate the rose, carnation, and orange blossom, lending a dynamism that is often blurred in similar heavy hitter leathers. It is resonant, but does not scream; it has sillage, but does not have a fumigating effect.

The dry down reveals for more of its animalics and quinolines, but remains aromatic and round. There also seems to be, while not listed as a note, a shade of violet in the heart that is a lovely accompaniment that counterbalances the tarry and jagged qualities of the leather accord.

Knize Ten is a beguiling piece of history and a real pleasure to wear.

Caron's Tabac Blond is one of my all-time favorite fragrances, so of course I love Knize Ten, which is not a smell-alike so much as a second cousin with similar bone structure.

Both were created around the same time (TB in 1919, KT in 1925), and both have the same devil-may-care, androgynous Jazz Age vibe that mixed traditionally masculine (leather, smoke, musk, woods) and feminine (flowers, specifically, carnation) elements in a way that initially must have been unusual and even a little shocking.

Although I haven't smelled Tabac Blond's recent incarnation (in that gorgeous new bottle!) my extrait from 10 or 12 years ago (bought from Lucky Scent when they were still selling most Carons), smells pretty darn good—but in an outsized, cos play kind of way. It's why I don't wear it out in public very often.

Knize Ten has that retro vibe, too. There's definitely leather and smoke and gasoline in there, along with carnation, a flower that can read as either aw-shucks old-fashioned or funereally suffocating. It's tamed a bit in Knize Ten, whose dry down is more minerally than TB, more your dad after the shower and less Clara Bow on a bender.

I haven't completed the full test drive yet. I have no idea how it performs in the heat or during a night out. While I imagine it might be a bit suffocating in the former, I can see it as being exactly right for the latter.

Knize Ten is a varied yet harmoniously balanced composition of the urbane grace of its time, yet thankfully fitting for modernity. Not only is it a powdery, racy, diesel fume wrapped in a floral bouquet that is guilelessly dashing; it is an original leather signature unlike any other. Here the base is a triple sided beauty that is piquantly inviting, aromatically sweet and decoratively animalic; reining in predominately citrus wafts into a dusty, fruity, floral bed, before sharing an understated, mossy, beaver sac that beautifully levels and refines the composition with vigour. This iconic leather fragrance, essentially a niche, continues to hold up after a century for the very reason that it is effortlessly blended, with each brilliant nuance measuring up so evenly. Given the number in this genre that are proportionately imbalanced, that end up like rustic haberdasheries, tannery polish, or smoked bits, Knize Ten's vibrancy, grandeur and grace is truly unmatched. May this Coty/Roubert concoction of bottled elegance grace us for another 100 years or more. Certainly, anyone who enjoys the 20th century classic and collective perfumery should embrace this grand-daddy with panache and flair...Hats off!

Soft leather and strawberry bouquet, Knize Ten could have been made for the Flapper, those rebellious 'garçonnes' who had short hair, smoked and drove fast cars, making this Gentleman's Toilet Water seem a bit ambiguous.
Nothing wrong with that - except the smoking...