Old Spice "Long Lasting" Cologne (Shulton, 1980 - 1990 Vintage)

The 1980s ushered in my favorite period for Old Spice, perhaps from personal nostalgia. This was the decade when American Cyanamid opted to repurpose the brand image and moved the red logo lettering above the blue ship graphic. They slapped a blue and gold band around the box lettering and called it "Long Lasting Cologne" to drive the longevity and "powerhouse" inference home. This version of Old Spice saw a bit more cola-like brightness in the opening accord, and longevity is indeed pretty impressive, clocking in at no less than ten hours. Beautiful stuff.

Aside from that, there isn't a whole lot else to say about it. If you're familiar with the scent of Old Spice, here it is, yet again. My own view is perhaps unpopular, but I think the lettering above the ship looks sharper than prior iterations of these graphics. The visual balance is better. I also enjoy that Shulton kept the traditional red box with the larger ship graphic, and I even like that they put "long lasting" in front of "cologne" to make an unnecessary point about the cologne concentration, which is really an eau de toilette concentration. This stuff is strong. Old Spice is strong in general. Whoever it was that said it's "fleeting" clearly didn't know what he was talking about, because this fragrance is anything but. In vintage form it is practically eau de parfum strength. 

I believe this will be the last vintage era of the scent that I review, not because I've tired of it, but rather for lack of access to any other vintages. I've given you early 1950s through to the present. I've yet to see 1940s Old Spice on eBay or elsewhere. I imagine someone like Bill Gates or Elon Musk has a full bottle of it with zinc stopper #1 resting comfortably atop the Hull Pottery Company's bottle, but doubt that I'll ever have a chance to own one myself. Hope springs eternal, and I still keep an eye out. It's important to remember that these first issue bottles weren't made very well, and leakage was a big problem, which makes the likelihood of ever finding one that much slimmer. 

To sum it all up, Old Spice hasn't changed very much in its 87 years of existence. I slapped on the current (c. 2019) formula yesterday, and marveled at how similar to the vintages it smelled. The biggest difference occurred in the late 1960s, when the archival Shulton formula was forced to change due to increasing restrictions on nitro musks. The 1950s version smells much woodier, muskier, and sweeter than anything from the 1970s onward. I found the 1970s formula to be a touch muskier and more powdery. 

The 1980s formula has less musk but what feels to me like an extra dash of cinnamon and nutmeg. The 1990s P&G formula streamlines the scent's facets, and that version carries on virtually unchanged to the present, although I have yet to try 2020s Old Spice, so perhaps that will be a future review. 

Old Spice Cologne "Original" (Procter & Gamble, 1993 — 2008 Vintage)

In 1990, Procter & Gamble acquired Old Spice to the tune of $300 million, and immediately made changes to its products. At first, they seemed undecided on which changes they wanted to make—things like the stopper color, the exact contours of the new racing yacht insignia, the moniker of "original" versus "classic"—but they eventually settled on a look that wasn't drastically different from what Shulton had been using for 53 years. After 1992, the stopper went from white back to grey, and the milk glass bottles remained in production. Old Spice was still very much Old Spice. 

With that said, I notice some key changes which clearly signal P&G's efforts to downgrade the product. First, the bottles. Shulton's bottles were creamy glass that was of the creamy color; P&G's are clear glass that are given a somewhat shoddy coating of creamy finish on the outer layer. There are vertical streaks visible on the neck of my 1993 bottle, pictured above, evidence that the finish didn't dry as evenly as it should have. Of course, this isn't really a big deal, per say, as glass is glass, and fragrance is always better in glass than plastic. But that little cost-cutting thing is noticeable, which is a shame. 

Second, the fragrance is given an industry designator: "Original." Lest you be confused by the myriad other Old Spice fragrances crowding the shelves, P&G felt it necessary to announce that they were making the "original" fragrance by printing "original" everywhere. Why they felt this was necessary is anyone's guess, but mine is that they wanted to assure customers that the new ownership hadn't changed anything. I find this type of marketing to reek of insecurity, and wonder what the conversations were like in closed-door meetings. "Hey, we really need to lean into the idea that what we're selling is the real deal." "Yes, you're right, but how do we do that after we've changed the graphic on the bottle?" "I got it! Let's call it 'Original' and print that word everywhere. Shulton never felt the need to do that, and nobody questioned their products, so we should totally change the packaging in this obvious way!" 

Lastly, P&G reformulated Old Spice into something very close to what is in bottles today. The early nineties formula is nearly identical to the current formula, except it's a touch spicier on top and a slight bit louder in concentration, projecting further and for an hour or two longer. The citrus and kitchen spice opening accord has a bit of fizzy texture that the current stuff simply lacks (although when atomized, the current formula is pretty darn close). Nineties Old Spice is the progenitor to the plastic bottle stuff on shelves today, and for better or worse, it smells 90% similar to what you're buying in 2025. This is P&G's take on the fragrance, where the vanilla is scaled back, the carnation and clovey spices are butched up, and the powder kicks in early. It's good, and it's recognizably Old Spice, but it's markedly different from the musky vanilla of the 1950s and '60s. Old Spice lost a lot of its sweetness, and gained a more pronounced floral facade. 

Like Brut, Old Spice has been through countless variations and reformulations over the decades, so it's difficult to say when the packaging shown here changed to something else. I know the racing yacht eventually got more colorful, and on the box it got even bolder than what's on my 1993 box. And of course, there are vintages of the plastic bottle, starting with the "sideways text" version and ending with the fugly patch graphic. 

I'm sure there's some Old Spice fanatic out there somewhere who will find this article and write me with something like, "How can you spew such ignominious garble?" My answer: I'm pretty good at it, actually. 

I Have "Excess" XS

One Scent; Three Versions

I've had a bottle of French-manufacture Paco Rabanne XS, considered "vintage" at this point, for many years now, and am finally down to the last ten milliliters or so. This prompted me to seek out a new bottle, but I'm painfully aware that XS has been reformulated and reissued over the years, and it took a bit of reading to discern which version I needed.

There seems to be three iterations of XS: the original, made in France, with a straw-colored liquid. Then there's a 2018 reissue in squat, heavy glass (very heavy) with purplish-grey liquid. But there's also an interim formula, released sometime in the 2000s and in the same bottle as the original, but with a light grey liquid. I decided to buy the 2018 reissue, based on reviews. Off to eBay I went.

Foreverlux had a listing for the 2018 version, so I ordered it. Unfortunately, Foreverlux goofed, and sent me the interim formula. I say "unfortunately" because this version is reputedly not as good as the 2018 version, with many complaining it's too weak and has off notes. Without sweating it, I returned to eBay and re-ordered the fragrance, and this time received the correct one, pictured above in the center. 

How do these compare? The original is the guidepost, of course. XS from 1993 is a crisp aromatic fougère in the Platinum Égoïste style of metallic geranium over mint, juniper berry, coriander, lavender, oakmoss, cedar, and sandalwood. XS is so close to the Chanel that I'm convinced they're mods of each other that simply found different brands for release. 

The interim version in the tall bottle (pictured to the right) smells very similar, but isn't as plush or round. There's a bit of screechy citrus in the opening accord that isn't in the original, and the heart is thinner, sharper, and more watery. Still smells like XS, still quite good, but the gunpowdery heart isn't as convincing, and it's a bit weaker. This is disappointing because this version came on the heels of the original, and shouldn't be so weak.

The 2018 version is also notably weaker than the original, but here the rough edges of its predecessor are polished and improved significantly. The aromatics enjoy better balance, the freshness feels more immediate and rounded, and the drydown is simply a weaker version of the original. I think it's a shame that they tinkered with it, but at least it smells right. If you're after this fragrance, go for the 2018 version.

The thing to remember with XS is that it was released in the 1990s, which was the decade for stylistic departures from what men used to wear. This type of metallic-fresh fragrance, exemplified by XS, PE, and Silver Mountain Water, was intended to say, "This isn't your dad's Old Spice." Forget the powdery cotton ball colognes of yesteryear. The nineties man smelled sharp and clean, like detergent soap on steroids.