Angel is the perfume that invented the gourmand category.

Black Orchid opens dense and narcotic, a heavy pour of ylang-ylang and gardenia thick enough to coat the air.

Black Opium opens with a bright shock of pear and pink pepper, quickly softened by orange blossom's creamy petals.

The opening is a bright burst of pink pepper and bergamot that feels sharper than most fresh masculines, almost electric.

Tom Ford's Tobacco Vanille opens with a plush, almost edible sweetness—imagine pipe tobacco dusted with vanilla powder and dried fruit, rich without being syrupy.

Crystal Noir opens with a dusky warmth, cardamom and ginger flashing briefly before the scent settles into something darker and more enveloping.

Aventus opens with a bright, almost synthetic burst of pineapple and apple—tart, juicy, and immediately recognizable.

La Nuit de l'Homme is the most successful men's cardamom fragrance of the past two decades — and for good reason.

Encre Noire opens with a dark, almost mineral vetiver that feels pulled from damp earth rather than distilled for polish.

The opening announces itself immediately—bright grapefruit cut with crisp mint, like a sharp intake of cold air.

Le Male opens with a sharp jolt of mint and lavender—barbershop brisk, but warmer than expected.

A blast of gasoline-tinged violet opens like the hood of a vintage sports car, strangely beautiful and almost industrial.

Bleu de Chanel opens with a clean citrus thrust—grapefruit and lemon sharpened by mint and pink pepper—that feels more athletic than dressy.

The opening contradiction defines this fragrance: bitter espresso colliding with sweet almond extract, flanked by a sharp citrus edge that keeps the sweetness from cloying.

A pale watercolor of a perfume, built on translucency rather than saturation.

L'Imperatrice 3 opens with a sharp, rosy bite of pink pepper that feels neither sweet nor aggressive—just luminous and oddly aquatic.

ck one opens with a sharp citrus wash—lemon and bergamot cut with green pineapple and a whisper of cardamom.

The opening is unapologetically bold: tart pineapple and blackcurrant collide with sharp citrus and green apple, creating an almost electric sweetness that announces itself from across a room.

The opening is bright but brief—bergamot and lemon barely settle before giving way to something darker and more layered.

The opening strikes an unusual balance: grapefruit's citrus brightness cut with the green, almost milky bitterness of fig leaf.

By the Fireplace opens with a faint drift of orange blossom smoothed by pink pepper, but within minutes the guaiac wood asserts itself—resinous, slightly medicinal, with that characteristic band-aid sweetness that splits opinion.

Cool Water opens with a bracing aquatic-herbal rush—lavender and mint collide like a splash of cold seawater, sharpened by rosemary's camphorous bite.

Y Eau de Parfum opens with a bright snap of ginger and crisp apple, tempered by bergamot's citrus roundness.

The plum and anise hit first with a dark, almost medicinal sweetness, like spiced fruit compote left to macerate overnight.