L'Anarchiste

After reading the reviews on here, it seemed to be a majority opinion that love it or hate it, its a unique fragrance- so I have to try this! I found a great price online, and it arrived today, much to my delight. On initial inspection, the package is very subtle, a matte black box with just the copper colored bottle shape and L'Anarchist in gloss black- very sleek. The packaging inside is quite nice, with all black inside embellished with gloss black words (dictionary definitions of 'anarchist' in French), but still classy and not overdone. Venture further inside, and you are greeted with a note declaring how the bottle itself will develop a pitina in the copper (as others have mentioned), making each a unique work of art. The bottle itself I feel is perfect for everything this fragrance aims to be- charming, very unique and a bit rough around the edges. Everything about the packaging is very asethically pleasing, especially for my tastes and style. (Let it also be known that I'm a sucker for nice/interesting packaging). If I were to stop here, I would already consider this a worthy purchase. However, this review is for the scent itself, not just the packaging. Ahh the scent, how very sharp and assertive it is while also warming and a bit smooth. I've been looking for a unique fragrance to be my signature scent, as I find most offerings too sweet, powdery, fruity or worst of all- forgettable. I have to admit, I'm not sure if this qualifies- although I had high hopes. Let's start from the top- An inital smell from the bottle seemed very complex, many notes vying for your attention, yet none seem to speak out much except some mintish-musk. I feel the opinions of smelling 'blood', 'metal' etc, are from smelling from the bottle, as it can be difficult not to notice the prominent copper scent from the bottle itself. Even this first smell, not yet joined forces with heat or my body chemistry, was very heady while still being a bit dark, dirty perhaps. I try one spray on my chest, and throw a shirt on so I can see how it translates into real wear. The first notes are definitely a minty-ness with dry orange, a bit toothpastey to reference some others- but its not off putting to me. Here is one of the interesting things to me- if i smell the skin (in my shirt)in this inital phase its very assertive in its toothpastey-ness, but to smell outside the shirt is where it really shines. It has a different feel to it through clothes, a definite smoothness with the vetiver-sandlewood worked in. Its almost difficult to do at this point, but it smells better and more developed from a distance than up close. Very nice. On to the middle notes, after maybe 40 min or so, the mintyness settles down slightly to reveal the other aspects of this scent- the sultry vetiver and sandlewood, tempered by the cedar and the almost floral notes of guaiac wood. I feel this is fairly well rounded, though the mint can still be a bit too persistent at times. At the final phase, L'Anarchiste sheds its minty front, leaving dry orange (peel perhaps) with the vetyver and musk. These combine nicely and have an almost mulled orange smell (fall spices and such). This phase is the best part for me. Its masculine, woodsy and a bit sharp- not for the timid, that's for sure. Imagine a man who is strong, confident and charming, but is a bit grizzly and can be scathing at times. This is that man. So, this IS quite a unique scent, definitely not for everyone. I do wish it was a bit less minty and more musky/animalistic, then it would be perfect for me. Sillage- 3/5 Seems to stay fairly close Longevity- 4/5 has decent staying power, like it or not Scent- 4.25/5 Feels fairly well constructed, but it can be a bit sharp. However it's probably smoother from a distance Bottle- 4.5/5 I feel this bottle is everything the scent wants to be, but pulls it off a little better Overall- 4/5 It's nice, but I was expecting a more bohemian type of fragrance, more patchouli or incense for example. (Note, I almost submitted this before the final phase and would have been rather dissapointed. However, with a bit of patience, it develops magically into a very warming scent that I love more each time I smell it)

Review for an early 2000s copper bottle: At its best, in its first formulation, L'Anarchiste is a challenging master work by an intellectually driven nose who found himself creating for an old, established, somewhat stodgy house that he may or may not have known was in some financial trouble. The name hints at the fact that what M. Fraysse decided to do in this situation was break all of the house rules and go for broke with a ground-breaking composition owing essentially nothing to what has come before it. History reveals that if going for broke is what he did, he got exactly what he went for as Caron were essentially broke shortly after this scent came to market. Had this scent been released by a different house, I would argue, it would be the stuff of legend today. But Caron's traditionalist, dapper customers had no idea what to make of this avant garde creation and the rest of the world paid it no attention. So a masterwork failed to sell. Because make no mistake, L'Anarchiste is a towering work of genius perfumery. Opening with a slightly aldehydic, cool mint (not at all dental in the original formulation, more so in later reworking as added sweetness lent a toothpaste feel to the note) and a subtly white floral, citrus orange blossom note, the scent progresses slowly, allowing its apparent contradictions to unfold only to be later drawn into harmony. This is blending at its best, folks. The initial blast here is bracing, metallic and futuristic. An ode to a new millennium dawning just as this scent was brought to market in 2000. In the heart, we get pungent cinnamon and a slightly dirty, rubbery version of vetiver. The cinnamon initially seems determined to team with the lingering mint from the opening to push things to a point of dry, glossy metal harshness that would make the scent almost unwearable, but the earthy vetiver dampens the assault and renders things somewhat darker, & less of an olfactory barrage. The fragrance has gone from almost too bright to just getting on too dark in a display of contrasts that could have been irreconcilable, but as the heart notes begin to receed, smoothing natural woods notes mellow and rationalize the scent into a comprehensible study of highs and lows. As the slightly animalic musky base notes emerge to take us home, everything has been harmonized into a warm yet uplifting whole. It is a rollercoaster ride, but somehow, in the end it all works out splendidly. The fragrance is ultimately optimistic, as befits the era of its launch. Yet nobody bought it. Caron allowed M. Fraysse a couple of chances to adjust the compounding of this fragrance to try to gain a foothold in the marketplace, but each reformulation only served to diminish the impact of the original without magically transforming it into the mass market success for which Caron had such a desperate need at this stage in its long history. This scent deserved a better fate and sometime in the future I suspect bottles of the early formulations will be sought after and command high prices. But for now, you can find copper bottles pretty easily and for reasonable prices. Caron produced loads of the stuff and so plenty of sealed boxes remain for sale if you look for them. If you are interested in this unique creation, best to grab a bottle while you can. The experience is worth the price. It is probably not entirely surprising that it was Caron which released L'Anarchiste. Faced with an inability to move beyond the highpoint of the house, 1934's Pour Un Homme de Caron, the house found itself lagging the market in the 1970s, when hairy chests and gold chains once and for all (It seems) displaced elegant dandyishness as the height of proper masculinity. The house's answer to that moment was the most bearish scent of the era, and a total departure from all that had gone before it, 1976's epic Yatagan. The bold move worked, and so, faced with a similar situation at the dawn of a new millennium, they went all in with a futuristic, metallic groundbreaker: L'Anarchiste. It didn't work this time, and more's the pitty, because the world of scent could use some more outside the lines coloring these days. Highly recommended!

Great reviews here - awesome "story" by PsychoTommy, alfarom (precise as always), and MetalMan sums up whatever was missing. I feel affinity and applaud the Caron house as well...true admiration of their audacity! They are creating scents so unique and some so classic (Caron Pour Un Homme) that just buying 4-5 bottles of their fragrances and you can achieve a versatile and distinct collection of scents to be worn for any occasion or time of year! Amazing - one of the truly great houses! Here is the scent pyramid offered - Top notes are african orange flower and mint Middle notes are vetyver, sandalwood, guaiac wood and virginia cedar Base note is musk I really like the bright metal-tinged orange flower/neroli note on top that is sparkling with the mint accent. This stays for a while for me...at least the first 20 minutes or more on the back of my hand and is even more alive on fabric! Very key here to spray L'Anarchiste on both skin (liberally) and a few sprays on your shirt. My sleeve is really nice now...showing the top notes after applying about 30 minutes ago (PsychoTommy is right - the slightly medicinal mint stays on fabric.) However, I like to apply virtually all scents to both my skin and clothing as it wears different and top/heart notes stay longer on fabric. This, to me, is not a beast for projection - but an "aura scent". Apply a fairly liberal amount, let it warm up and you have a nice radiant scent fragrant that surrounds you - a couple feet or so away (this will not tell people across a room what you are wearing). If you walk by someone of taste - who isn't too shy - they should definitely ask what it is you're wearing, though!! The heart definitely warms up to copper-tinged wood accord - not traditional "woody". Mind you, the mint is still alive on your arm, but a "green" wood accord that I get from a fresh vetiver (clean, not earthy)-infused cedar and sandalwood. This is where the scent evolves overall into something awesome - the heart & drydown. The "spice" I get is from what I perceive to be a cinnamon stick accord (not grated - as that would be louder and dustier). No, the imagery I'm getting here is likeable to a heated copper pot of soaked wood chips (cedar, guaiac, and sandalwood) being stirred by a cinnamon stick. The fresh vetiver root is very rinsed & washed off and a few strands of root are tossed in...offering a greenness to the whole composition. Not dominant, but a key note the keeps the green mint on top through the heart and base. That is the picture I get. No blood. No vampires. But, a simply stunning flacon! The freshness remains on my clothes at over an hour! The musk is a just off-white musk here...not totally clean, but almost. The musk note is lifted, but also offers a touch more warmth on the base, which true "white musk" will not offer. I love white musk in my "fresh scents" and notice the difference here. Definitely not a heavy musk, though. Radiant. Warm. To the House of Caron - you have some audacious taste! And, well, if it isn't for everyone, you never cared about that any way. Richard Fraysse, the perfumier, has given us a chance to try something so unique here. This is true art, to me. Like Eau de Reglisse (another brilliant creation from Caron and truly unisex) - there is a passion that is poured into this bottle, not just mass-marketed juice. This is not for the mainstream, which makes me like it that much more. A "niche", masculine fragrance from a larger house...and one that strikes me as simply great! Wonderful and entirely unique! I offer my full admiration and gratitude.

L’Anarchiste created to be a fragrance with all the intention of influencing the entire industry and reminding it what must remain valued in the art of perfumery. That a perfume is individual - personal. The fragrance itself bottled in an item that was meant to highlight the intimacy between the perfume and the perfume wearer. The copper flask is made of native copper that automatically reacts to the sebum from your finger leaving a patina marking of your fingerprints or hand prints after touching the flask. This way after touching the bottle it is now undoubtedly yours, signed by the genetic prints that identify you. An artful and clever method of guiding the perfume wearer into an infinite string of performance art leaving an expanse of abstracted print markings like finger painting on their personal bottle of L’Anarchiste. The fragrance is never unusual, rather, quite ahead of its time a scent signature destined to be recreated and given the platform of appreciation it deserves. L’Anarchiste may almost smell safe but gets its fair share of confusion or disgust from its complex signature woody, metallic, fresh mint accord that may seem like the skeleton of a "blue" or "marine" fragrance but somehow goes into unfamiliar territory and sets it apart from any other perfume that exists. This unique freshness is complicated and edgy, possessing roughness and crude touches for any fragrance aficionado to consider L’Anarchiste a masterpiece. Perfumes much like visual art must take risks and function on controversial extremes to be memorable. A perfected balance or at least an attempt at balancing extremely bright and clean elements with extremely dark or dirty elements. L’Anarchiste is one of the groundbreaking examples of a freshie that is in my opinion successful at balancing these two extremes. At the top we are introduced to an unrelenting and piercing mint whose facets are propelled alongside the warm, zestiness of cinnamon to enhance it. The mint and cinnamon are an incredibly genius combination where mint possesses a medicinal and herbal spiciness that pairs compatibly with the warm, woody and dry spiciness of cinnamon to create a rather alluring bright green haze that has a zingy and energetic texture. The woods like sandalwood, vetiver, and guaiac wood are blended in by the facets of woodiness from the cinnamon. These dark, earthy, and smoky woods give L’Anarchiste a sort of bitter, soapy, metallic fougère-like feel when paired with the bright minty and spicy-fresh top notes. A creamy and spicy shaving foam sensation that feels refreshing, tingly and clean like shaving lather which when balanced with the mentholated cinnamon and mint comes across somewhat metallic because of the contrast of woods and menthol. Grooming accessories and organic horticulture medicines are what comes to mind when wearing L’Anarchiste. “I am healthy, stable and well groomed” is what this smell will convey about you on your daily commutes. An ideal day or night scent that is perfect for any season where the spices will manage considerably in cold weather or the creamy sandalwood and cinnamon-mint will refresh you in the heat. I would say that L’Anarchiste could be bordering on a new genre of perfume entirely that is between the organic spiciness of a Fougère and the fresh zest of a cologne. 🪵🪒🌿 10/10

L'Anarchiste de Caron is, without a doubt, one of the most exotic perfumes I have ever known. Apparently, Caron already knew that the "different" would be the new focus of perfumery when launching this delicious fragrance. And the bottle? A beautiful thing that, whenever I look, I don't know why I feel like a gladiator. I just did not like the application of the lid, which could be threaded or could have a better fixation. The opening of the fragrance is very weird, with something dated and very similar to shaving creams and some toothpaste, with a touch of mint that is very noticeable, but not refreshing, as is usually felt in other perfumes that have such a note. That's because the mint mixes, very quickly, with the heart notes, which are woody. We have sandalwood, cedar, guaiac wood, vetiver, and a lovely cinnamon. But this is the most distinctive cinnamon I've ever felt. Anyone who likes cinnamon in perfumes, like me, will be surprised by the tone that this note gives to this creation. The base is simple: musk. But the simple, sometimes, is the best, isn't it? The result: L’Anarchiste de Caron is full of paradoxes, with a scent that borders on the greens of the 80s, but with a more metallic look. Yes, it has a metallic facet! And what about that so-called smell of blood? Well, I always read comments that something in it resembled blood, but I wondered, "What does blood smell like?" Actually, I don't know what the blood smells like, but I do know how it tastes. And this is where the most intriguing part of this scent comes from: just like with gourmand fragrances, which leave our mouths full of water – because our senses are very interconnected, mainly smell and taste – it also happens here, with this feeling that I pierced my finger and I’m sucking the blood like everyone does when you pierce or cut yourself. It's incredible! The projection is worthy of a good perfume: there is no need to make an effort to feel how fragrant I am. I know I’m exuding A LOT. L’Anarchiste de Caron is a work of art, full of complexity and contradictions, worthy of the label “love or hate” and ideal for those who enjoy taking risks. In my case, it was an excellent blind purchase. Absolutely no regrets!