Guess Man (Guess)

Guess is one of those generic discount designer brands that is easy for enthusiasts to ignore, simply by virtue of its commercialized ubiquity. A day doesn't go by that I don't see at least a handful of Guess fragrances marked for clearance somewhere. But it raises the question, do they deserve to be overlooked? Or are they diamonds in the rough? 

I want to think Guess Man went straight to discounters upon its release in 2006, but technically I'd be wrong. It spent at least a couple of years on tester counters at Macy's, priced at $65 a bottle, but probably sold poorly. Then Guess opened the distribution channels to places like Ross and Burlington Coat Factory, and wham! Well, maybe not, but it sold much better at twenty bucks. People are eager for the next big thing, but don't want to be culpable for financing it. Guess Man smells of the 2000s zeitgeist of woody-fresh synthetic masculines, in the most timely of windowed, silver-plastic packages, but also harkens back to the eighties and nineties with its aggressively woody intro and nitrile-driven dry-down. The fragrance packs a little punch at the start, with bright orange zest and herbal aromatics closely mated to a decently sturdy artemisia, which aligns it more with things like Caron Yatagan (1978), AD Classic (1980), and Smalto (1998) than with the gym-bro aquatics and ozonics of its time. Quite the welcome surprise. 

It takes about an hour for its big top to settle down, and for a standard-issue lavender, violet leaf, and cedar accord to step in and carry the next few hours into oblivion, but this green-woody affair is just cool and smooth enough to remind me of Dunhill Fresh, and (by proxy) Fahrenheit. This cheapy isn't bad at all, and is worth a sniff for lovers of transitional 2000s classics. Who would've Guessed? 

Guess by Marciano for Men (Guess)

Every so often a low-brow designer brand teams up with a low-brow perfume division of some other designer brand to create low-brow swill for guys who consider perfume the perfect substitute for a shower. When they opt for "fresh aquatic" no one really loses, because at least they smell like shampoo. 

When they opt for "fresh fougère" we take a slight hit, because traditional fougères are usually sexier, better-wrought, and ferns always make a statement, so going "fresh" with them implies a hollow message. Still, not so bad, considering. But when they opt for "fresh oriental," everyone suffers, no exceptions. Orientals are a tricky genre. You either know what you're doing and do it well, or you're clueless and offensive - there is no middle ground. Sadly, Guess for Men fast-tracks the oriental, and comes up empty. Given the possible fallout of such a flub, things actually aren't so bad here, but I really wish they'd have (a) done another fresh fougère, or (b) done nothing at all.

The scent smells like your classic barbershop vanilla-amber, which touches of orange citrus, pepper, and powder on top. The nose must have been aware that he was out of his depth, because this scent remains staid, safe, incredibly dull. I'm reminded of Brut and Pinaud Clubman (two iconic barbershop fougères, oddly enough), but those smell better and are more distinctive. They're stronger, too - Guess is gone in an hour. Is this "bad" per say? Not really, but I don't wear fragrances that "aren't bad," I try to seek out the intentionally "good" ones. Your mileage may vary here, and if you find this a superior alternative to those other barbershop masculines, more power to you. I'll bypass this more expensive and less successful composition for less expensive and more successful ones any day of the week, brand gaucherie be damned.