4/4/12

Aventus (Creed)



Not since ancient Greeks discovered Spanish Fly has anything been as revered for its aphrodisiac properties as Creed's newest Millésime, Aventus. Just google the stuff to read dozens of accounts, mostly written by men, of how a few spritzes makes for blushing bosoms and fluttering eyelashes. One guy recently swore that his wife, who was presumably disinterested in him prior to his fragrance choice, passionately kissed him goodnight - for almost an hour. Another claimed that he simply could not pass a female co-worker, or any woman anywhere, without her complimenting him on his scent. Still others have written of renewed sexual interest from their partners, incredible romantic gestures, and mind-numbing sex, all courtesy of the mysterious colorless elixir of one Erwin Creed, Master Perfumer to be. It makes for enchanting reading.

More compelling are the accounts from women, found on basenotes and fragrantica, of how the smallest drop of Aventus makes their knees wobble, their tongues water, their hearts go all a titter. Oh, wait a minute - there are no such accounts. Sorry, my bad.

Perhaps it would be easier to believe the internet hype surrounding Aventus if it weren't so incredibly one-sided. It's easy for walking balls of testosterone to mist themselves with the latest nouveau riche parfum from a house that unfortunately appeals principally to the nouveau riche, and misinterpret every glance, every blink, every friendly word from a woman as an affirmation that their fragrance is divined of liquid rape molecules, capable of ruining the daughters of paupers and world leaders alike. The claims are abundant and grossly thematic, but where's the corroboration? Where are the female forum threads on basenotes devoted to how beguiling Aventus smells on a boyfriend, a husband, a stranger at the office, even a lesbian lover? Why aren't the female bloggers - a few of whom I'm familiar with - singing its praises? Where are the accolades from the so-called fan base of this new Creed?

There is the odd comment here and there from a female admirer, and several ladies have openly admitted to finding Aventus irresistible, but several ladies have also admitted to finding Green Irish Tweed, Millésime Imperial, and Silver Mountain Water irresistible, too. This sort of offhand commentary does not a bedroom legend make.



My take on Aventus is relatively staid in comparison. It opens with a flinty, semisweet pineapple and apple accord, which evaporates off dry birch and blackcurrant. When its fruity opening subsides, its floral heart opens, and the birch is joined by a velvety rose and jasmine. The flowers are clipped of sweetness and possess a rubbery edge, a middle stage flattened and preened into a tidy bed of petals and moss. This part of Aventus resembles newly-printed dollar bills, its inkiness reminiscent of the Ryobi printer note in Silver Mountain Water.

After four hours on skin, Aventus begins to give up its floral tones for a pleasant drydown of moss, ambergris, musk, and vanilla. I mostly get ambergris and musk, but a hint of vanilla is always in the periphery. It's a very non-gourmand vanilla, and smells entirely inedible. It's very nice, and altogether a solid offering from Creed.

But an aphrodisiac? I'm not sure I get that. I suppose it's possible, but what does it mean? The only thing Aventus resembles, with any clarity beyond the notes in its pyramid, is money. Cold hard cash. Perhaps this is why Creed chose to name it "Success" in Esperanto. In today's world, success is no longer measured by cultural accomplishments, or by integrity of personal character. Success is gauged solely by how much dough a guy has in his bank account. It's also measured by how much power and charisma said dough affords you. If you're a rich schlub with a beer gut and a framed lottery stub, you're still a loser. If you're Robert Redford, then all your mediocrity is forgiven - you're successful. Sad to say, but very true. No offense, Rob. I loved Out of Africa. But Three Days of The Condor, Brubaker, Legal Eagles, Indecent Proposal, The Last Castle, Spy Game . . . thank you very little.

If this is to be taken literally, then what does this say about the ladies who supposedly flock to men wearing Aventus? The smell of clean money is a turn-on? A strapping inky wad, fresh from the wallet, is now Spanish Fly? Some guy who rolls around in his own ATM fee is more desirable than any plastic-carrying pansy? Money talks this much? Really??



Perhaps my interpretation of the main accord in Aventus is inaccurate. Maybe it doesn't smell so much like money, but rather like the generalized Western ideal of a man. The pineapple/apple combo is very rich and clean, and far from feminine. The mossy rose oil heart is dry, sugarless, solid, elegant. The musky ambergris base is typical Creed, with some added vanilla incandescence. It's not a bad construction. It's quite user-friendly. The blackcurrant masks the rose; the rose masks the moss. And the pineapple - which I'm not crazy about - masks everything. The resulting scent is clear, slightly earthy, ephemeral, expensive-smelling. It's the reason I buy Creed.

But I'm not sure I have a good reason to buy Aventus. I tossed around the idea of wearing it for my Japanese lady friend, just to see if it lives up to its reputation. Japanese sensibilities are sometimes volatile, even outlandish, and watching a native's reaction to this juice would be interesting. It's certainly worthy of the occasion. But pitting it against other contenders, I'm not so sure it's worthy of that occasion specifically. It could be too strong, or too flashy, or (shudder) too generic. Nothing about Aventus blows my mind, and I'm left doubting it would blow hers. Couple this with the niggling desire to give Aventus a year of my time, and you see the predicament.

Well, maybe not so much a predicament - more like a possibility. Aventus definitely has possibilities as a successful Creed. But so does Original Vetiver, which I should point out has actually been a head-turner on me. And let's not forget the infamous Green Irish Tweed, which I think is still the best Millésime in the masculine range.

I don't know what else to say about Aventus. I wore it once, and no one noticed it, at least not enough to comment. It's good stuff, there's no doubt. But in today's world, good stuff doesn't always cut it. Great stuff does - and just barely. I'm not comfortable applying the word "great" to this fragrance. Sorry guys.












7 comments:

  1. Alain Delon however wouldn't wear Aventus, he would wear Eau Sauvage instead. ;-)

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    1. Excellent connection! So true. Given its chypre qualities, I can't help but wonder if Catherine wouldn't mind sporting it though.

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  2. I'm not a huge fan of this, which further supports your research. :)

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    1. Thanks for letting me know. Another strike for Aventus!

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  3. It is interesting that you associate Aventus with the smell of new US dollars. I have also heard this association with the original Baldessarini EDC. What is your feeling on that one?

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    1. Where have you heard Baldessarini associated with the smell of US dollars?

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    2. I believe that I read this on fragrantica. I know that they are two different scents.

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