Paco Rabanne Pour Homme

Paco Rabanne Pour Homme EDT from 1973 might in fact be one of the three best fougères I've come across so far. Creed Green Irish Tweed is usually lauded by many fragrance aficionados as the "king" of green fragrances and the epitome of spring in a bottle, but I have to respectfully disagree on that one. While, to me, Ralph Lauren Polo "Green" EDT from 1978 is the true "king" of men's green fragrances, and it's primarily a formal cold weather fragrance for me personally, the title "epitome of spring in a bottle" definitely goes to Paco Rabanne Pour Homme EDT from 1973. How it smells: Paco Rabanne Pour Homme EDT from 1973 is an effortlessly elegant and timeless men's fragrance, masculine and confident, mossy, woodsy, forest-like, green, wet, and cold as a spring day in a boreal forest or a wet and damp spring meadow in the green rolling hills of Ireland or the windswept, cold, and green Scottish highlands surrounded by the cold, wet freshness of the Atlantic Ocean. It's like taking a cold shower in a boreal forest in early spring. Soapy, clean, wet, cold, mossy, woodsy, and green. That's pretty much how I would describe it. Occasions/when and how to wear it: Paco Rabanne Pour Homme EDT from 1973 is, to me, what Creed Green Irish Tweed perhaps is to others: a Swiss army knife of a man's fragrance that can be dressed down to a pair of jeans and a crisp white t-shirt and dressed up with a tuxedo and black-tie events; a foolproof all-rounder for day and night, spring, summer, fall, and winter, casual and formal and festive occasions, although I'd personally say that Paco Rabanne Pour Homme EDT from 1973 probably shines the best in spring, fall, winter, and cool and cloudy summer days. Versatility: Absolutely lovely and has the same versatility as Creed Green Irish Tweed, Acqua di Parma Colonia Essenza, and Hermes Terre d'Hermes, only it's much more affordable, and unlike those three fragrances, Paco Rabanne Pour Homme EDT truly smells like a luxury fragrance for men, despite its deceptively low asking price, and has a lot more depth, complexity, richness, "bite," and personality to it than any of these above-mentioned fragrances. Longevity and performance: Longevity on my skin isn't too bad; I get maybe 5-10 hours, depending on weather conditions and temperature, but it performs excellently in icy cold winter weather conditions, here and now, in January 2026. Paco Rabanne Pour Homme projects strongly for perhaps the first hour or so (I need to experiment with that further to be absolutely certain about that), but remains a pretty discreet and subtle green, woodsy, soapy, and clean cold and wet forest-like skin fragrance during most of the duration of the fragrance's life cycle. Age category and gender: Due to Paco Rabanne Pour Homme's mature scent profile, it's probably ideal for gents in their 30s and up, although you could of course wear it under the age of 30 if you're an "old soul" and unusually mature for your age. For me, this is definitely meant for men. To my sense of smell, there is nothing unisex about it, although you could wear whatever you want, so take my opinion with a grain of salt. Paco Rabanne Pour Homme EDT from 1973 might be one of the top three fougères I've come across so far on my fragrance journey. The other two "ultimate fougère fragrances" that belong to my "top three list" would be Azzaro Pour Homme EDT from 1978 and Penhaligon's Sartorial from 2010. Taking into account versatility, complexity, richness, personality, cost-to-performance ratio, level of craftsmanship, quality of ingredients, and the effortlessly masculine, elegant, and comfortable scent profile, I have no doubts about calling Paco Rabanne Pour Homme EDT from 1973 a masterpiece. It may not be a masterpiece to everyone, but it is to me. Final score: 10/10!

This is a tale of Paco Rabanne Pour Homme in three generations: 1970s, 1990s, 2010s. Will this settle things once and for all for those whom argue that older formulations were superior? Well, I refuse to make any such claim and will simply share my observations and thoughts on all three. 1970s Paco Rabanne Pour Homme: The seductive gravity of this classic is immediate. The opening notes, while not completely vibrant—cut this bottle some slack, its nearly 50 years old—are not turned at all: a still effulgent conifer-like rosemary, a green-licorice-snap tarragon, a 'bay rum without the rum' laurel, all here. The lavender, geranium and tonka are all whipped up in heaping globs of clean-shave musk xylene and the like creating a bubbling outward contour of this accord. These musks reveal the quintessence of the classic fougere that would be nearly impossible after the ban on them by the 1980s. And the oakmoss? We must dispel this myth disseminated throughout the online discourse: yes, there is the oakmoss extract, but make no mistake: there's a whole lot more Evernyl as it has been so since its introduction several decades prior to PRPH's release. The mossiness is lovely, for sure, but it's these nitro-musks that drive the legend, exalting the sweet fern core and honey-scented soap bubble. I even get hints of costus. It's epic. 1990s Paco Rabanne Pour Homme: The sparkly-spiky-pine aldehyde and heavy linalool opening here is mostly absent from the prior version, which may be attributed to age or some adjusting of the formula. Be that as it may, its lovely, and soon thereafter, the savory herbal aromas all are here, a spiced undertone mingling with the lavender/geranium/tonka triad as well. The spirit is still the same, nothing drastically different, as warm and as inviting as ever. The absence of nitro-musks does leave a je ne sais quoi missing, but this is replaced by other musks and fixatives that help hold the shape of it all. There's still that Irish Spring gusto to it, and the mossiness and shade of costus is still intact. It is a delight as well. 2010s Paco Rabanne Pour Homme: The freshest sparkle and linalool, a strong sillage, and the longest duration of these opening phrases. The herbs fade in slowly, and are a bit more sheer and metallic, but still quite enjoyable. The fougere core is still here! There is a bit more clary sage to my nose, which I will not wave a finger at, I approve. The geranium in the triad is a bit more subdued, which is somewhat unfortunate, but not a total loss. Many like to point out that the Evernia prunastri is still listed in the ingredients, and yes the soupçon is still there, and there probably wasn't much more in prior iterations, so cool your jets, matey, it is and has been mostly Evernyl. It's of course not exactly like the 1970s and 1990s versions, but it is no slouch, it's still radiant in all its autumnal splendor, it mostly is missing the aura of the nitro-musks of the vintage and has be bit less of a balls-deep mossiness and costus. We should be lucky we still have it in production (for now). Having all three on my skin is quite a trip, I might add.

Lately, I’ve been wearing Paco Rabanne Pour Homme for work-weeks at a time. This trend was set in motion by a recent trip to New York City in which, lost in the endless rows of bakery and deli items at the wonderful all-things-Italian franchise Eataly, I stumbled across boxes of Proraso’s standard-issue green aftershave splash and pre/post shave cream. Discreet diplomats of Florentine grooming, both of these products are Platonic modern barbershop: bright, brief and invigorating, the aftershave delivers a brisk mintiness with a hint of eucalyptus emulsified with castor oil, throwing together some nice, natural-smelling notes with a slug of witch hazel. The pre-shave does its job admirably via a certain medicinal severity – the camphorous quality of the eucalyptus is a lot stronger here as is the presence of menthol – but the cheery sweetness of the aftershave does fine work integrating and elevating the overall effect... The sum of the parts supplies a chill & tingle that blends beautifully with the sublime green soapiness of a well-aged bottle of Paco Rabanne. ...I say ‘well-aged’ because all of the bottles of PRPH I have owned have become creamier, deeper, and a little more complex-smelling with age. A blast of green soapy astringency gives way to a soothing mix of French lavender and coumarin is made resinous with rosemary, savory with sage, sweet with honey and mellow with moss and musk, creating a trail reminiscent of old-school shaving cream that works perfectly after a shave. As a middle-aged guy moving into the mid-century mark, I acknowledge that PRPH is datable: a 1970s survivor that, as it happens, survives in decent form; nonetheless, I find that adding on the grooming ritual of the Proraso line fuses the whole into a thesis of feelgood + functional = classic that is too durable to dismiss. This combining of varied products to amplify and extend the fragrance profile is essential to work-week fragrance: the zone of self-control where ritual runs into (and rescues and restores and resets) routine. I'll close by saying that if you are curious about fragrance bloodlines, it's got to be said that this is probably 'the' green aromatic fougère to try -- perhaps one of the few (along with Azzaro) that still carry this DNA into the present. It's inconceivable to have a conversation about masculine perfumery without namechecking PRPH, and, luckily, it remains a pleasure to wear -- bright, solid, bracing, comforting and composed.

Paco Rabanne Pour Homme is by far and away my favorite fougere fragrance. The opening is such a blast of cooling green freshness that mellows down into an ultra masculine spicy shaving cream vibe. A touch of honey sweetness provides a smooth edge. So good. PRPH is a legendary fragrance and currently ~$30 USD for a 100ml bottle, which is a steal. Performance is insane for an EDT, I easily get 8-10 hours out of this and will last a whole workday without needing to reapply. If you're a fan of fougeres you really owe it to yourself to get your nose on this. I do find it funny that in Paco Rabanne's modern masculine fragrance lineup that something like this is the odd ball. Everything else in Rabanne's lineup is overly sweet, gourmand vanilla or aggressive blues. I really appreciate that Paco Rabanne is willing to keep their flagship masculine fragrance on the market even after nearly six decades, even if it likely doesn't sell well. I respect the commitment to their heritage. Presentation is killer. Smells exactly like the bottle/packing look. Dark forest green. The bottle is shaped like a suit bag; something a CEO keeps his bespoke 3 piece suit in. Retro font on both the bottle and the packaging are a loving tribute to the era in which this fragrance was born. Atomizer has a wide spray and sprays like a firehose. Sprays so hard there will be liquid dripping down the face of the atomizer after spraying. My only complaint is it feels like the housing of the atomizer isn't seated all the way. You can kinda finagle with it and jiggle it around easily. Feels like it's gonna break off. EDIT: Does NOT smell like Irish Spring. Cool Water/Green Irish Tweed smell like Irish Spring. This smells like a higher quality bar of white soap/shaving cream with much more depth. PRPH is so good even in its modern formulation. This has become my signature scent. Its strength lies in its versatility. You can wear this fragrance in any situation. PRPH would be an appropriate wear with a tuxedo or fully dressed in sweats. If I had to pare my entire collection down to just 5 fragrances, this would make the cut AND be my daily wear. It's that good. Currently in the process of buying as many backup bottles as I physically can.

Heaven will be the past, and there, we will dwell together. Not as life once was, but as it lingers in our memories. It will be the past, and all those we’ve loved and lost will return to us in that time. We will remember— and it will be forever. By Patrick Phillips ⸻ This fragrance holds a special place in my heart, and I can’t help but call it one of the finest creations ever, a tribute to simplicity, freshness, and the flood of memories it brings. A true retro scent, long enshrined in the “Hall of Fame” of perfumery. Every whiff is a journey back in time, a rush of nostalgia. It takes me to the days of Nicola di Bari, Nino Bravo, Leonardo Fabio, and Joan Manuel Serrat—the soundtrack of a time that still lingers. This perfume has defied the passing years, standing tall against ever-changing trends. For me, it captures the essence of the 80s—the greatest era in history, at least from my vantage point. But its timelessness is undeniable, forever anchored in the past it evokes. The cool, fresh rosemary, the earthy grounding of lavender, with a hint of spice, create an icy, crisp sensation. It’s like stepping out of the shower over and over again, a rejuvenating freshness that never fades. Its deep, green, woodsy notes remind me of my homeland, the countryside of the Dominican Republic. I can almost see the ancient oak trees towering over the land, feel the cool mist from the waterfall, and smell the dew-kissed wild vegetation. It’s like a spring that never ends. This Paco, more than just its scent, represents a piece of my soul, a slice of the years I’ve lived. The memory it carries is my greatest treasure. As the English might say, it’s “Old School, Vintage, and Powerhouse.” I yearn to return to those days, to embrace the past again—those days of polyester jackets, hats, and serious faces. To close my eyes, drift into a dream, never to wake, and let that glorious past remain frozen in time. 10/10 Forever and always.