One of the neat things about being a collector is finding "rare" items, and perfume collectors are especially driven by scarcity. I've been on the lookout for One Man Show Emerald Edition since its release 8 years ago, but for whatever reason it's always been tough to source. Apparently Emerald was initially a Dubai exclusive, then trickled into Europe, and eventually got swept into the grey market, which the Bogart Group uses to unofficially distribute its wares to the continent. Recently a few inexpensive bottles appeared on eBay, and I was on it.
Emerald Edition is an unusual one. Corinne Cachen has been in the game for a while now, and has at least one foot in the "old-school" world of green, spicy-woody frags. See Montblanc Presence (2001) and Avon Surreal Garden (2007) for just two mainstream examples. Emerald opens with a lick of sugary sweetness that is swiftly overtaken by a rush of what smells to me like a "sandpaper accord" commonly found in pre-millennium masculines: ginger & white pepper-adjacent elemi resin (150-180 grit), sage (sclarene), and the most bitter rendition of methyl heptine carbonate (violet leaf) Cachen could possibly use. Violet flower appears in an abstract and very contemporary form, resembling Mancera's Aoud Violet a bit for at least twenty minutes or so, but then a potent nutmeg and desiccated coumarin emerge, lending earth-hued shadow to the grey-green fog. Still spicy, a little woody, a little green thanks to the lingering violet/violet leaf aspect, and with that sclarene really piercing through everything, Emerald settles on dusty nutmeg and a dry-resinous tapestry of violet, cedar, salty musks, and Bogart Group's version of Akigalawood.
One thing nobody mentions is there's ethyl maltol in this fragrance. It's blended in so carefully that unless the juice in the atomizer stem was allowed to get old enough (as in my bottle), you won't smell it clearly save for during the first one or two sprays until the stuff balances out. I'll end with this: Emerald Edition is worth seeking out if you're a hopeless lover of green and agrestic masculines from any decade, and if you're okay with smelling like a 51 year-old man who just stepped out of 1997. This particular Bogart won't turn heads or be remembered, but it's definitely a mature and serviceable men's offering, and I'm glad I have it, if only for how hard it is to find these days.