YSL M7

Released in 2002, YSL M7 created a splash for its Tom Ford approved advertising campaign that included the fully-frontal tae kwon do champion Samuel de Cubber and not much else. The campaign was quickly edited for the U.S., which might explain its lack of punch in the American marketplace, but YSL M7, a deep, smooth fragrance centered on the oil of the agarwood (aka oud) tree, was likely a bit too far ahead of the fragrance curve for its own good.

Around that same time, crisp, fruity colognes were taking shape in the men's marketplace and M7 appeared to suffer for staking out its own earthier territory, but now that a new breed of niche perfume companies are bringing their exclusive patchoulis, incenses and woodsy fragrances to the forefront, M7 might just enjoy a renaissance of its own -- provided that YSL doesn't discontinue it first. It's not the easiest bottle of stinkin' potion to get your greedy little hands on.

I'd place it in the same class as Pascal Morabito Or Black, though it has a much sweeter disposition. Robin at Now Smell This writes, "As with most fragrances containing agarwood, it starts with a bit of a medicinal edge, but that fades along with the short-lived citrus top notes. After that, it is dark, warm, and dry, with a mild spiciness and deep earthy woods."

I can't, and won't, argue with that assessment.

One additional note: due to the commercial disappointment of M7, YSL released a lighter version in 2004 called M7 Fresh in a bid to capture some of the market for today's juicier, frothier scents. M7 Fresh is said to be more sharp and green, less warm and earthen than M7 proper. I love M7 myself, and can't imagine preferring its accountant-driven successor over the lush, striking notes of the original.

UPDATE:

Luca Turin, in his Perfumes: The Guide, writes that M7 is excessively gloomy and "cannot quite get away from a certain brown-study grimness inherent in oud itself", which is fine language to use when you're writing about a novel or a play, but to describe a smooth, woodsy and warm honey perfume as "gloomy" and "grim" reads like someone drank the hyperbole kool aid.

I've noticed, upon much reading and re-reading of Turin's perfume reviews, that he's far too smitten with overdone florals. He swoons over cloying, heavy classics such as Chanel No. 5, Guerlain Jicky, YSL Paris, etc, while dissing fragrances that have the temerity to exhibit less extroverted tendencies.

His adoration of Thierry Mugler's histrionic Angel is best viewed within this context. Now, I love my Angel Men Pure Coffee, but it's a wallop of a fragrance from beginning to end, so if Thierry Mugler is the benchmark, then no wonder the perfumes of Jean Claude Ellena don't stand a chance in Turin's world.