In all my years of sampling and wearing fragrances, I've never encountered one that was so hideous, so vile, so downright unwearably awful and odious and Charles Manson-ish as to warrant a complete shut-down review. Until last week, when I had the grave misfortune and ultimate displeasure to experience something the box and bottle told me was "Swiss Army Classic" by Victorinox. Whatever mindless drone of a graphic designer penciled the packaging evidently never tried the product contained therein, as he would have slit his wrists sooner than aid and abet the purveyance of such unspeakable swill. I'll be blunt: this is liquid evil.
I truly love Fragrantica and respect all Fragranticans - their opinions are their own, and everyone has a right to them - but I noticed that this fragrance has drawn a few parallels to Cool Water on there. Now, keeping in mind that not everyone really gives Cool Water the time of day, or carefully studies it to really learn about its development and structure, I can understand how one could suppose that it's a cheap aquatic with chemical properties not far removed from toilet cleaner. Therefore, they could try a cheap aquatic with chemical properties not far removed from toilet cleaner called "Swiss Army Classic" and immediately think, "oh, this is Cool Water." Except that Cool Water is a gorgeous fresh aromatic fougère, and Swiss Army Classic is Windex and a fifty-fifty mix of ammonia and bleach. That's right. Ammonia and bleach.
Oh, yeah, there's a touch of lemon in there. Sort of the lemon juice in the opaque green plastic bottle you find in the produce section of the grocery store that tastes like old lemon water and vinegar. It's mixed with Windex, to make SAC (even its name in acronym form is lame and suggestive of puerile humor). There's a small bundle of matches in this fragrance's flaccid heart accord, metallic, almost-mentholated woody sticks that fleetingly poke past the cloud of graphite dust that precedes them, but don't bother attempting to define them. Swiss Army Classic is humorless, lifeless, badly executed as a woody-fresh whatever (aquatic is probably an inaccurate descriptor, I apologize to those who feel it's something else, but if you're coming to the defense of this thing, see a neurologist immediately), and simply not worth the coffee flask bottle it's housed in. If the Cenobites from Clive Barker's Hellraiser went out for drinks on Saturday nights, Swiss Army Classic would consistently be their fragrance of choice.