Evergreen Forest (Stirling Soap Company)

Photograph Courtesy Creative Commons by M, 7/19/12, color edited by Bryan Ross

I promised to explore this brand further, so here we are. It is with some trepidation that I review their relatively new Evergreen Forest EDT. It makes me a bit nervous, because this is a difficult fragrance to review fairly. I feel I was a bit too hard on Stirling Spice, a pretty good oriental that awkwardly compares to vintage Old Spice (and stands better on its own), and I don't want to make the same mistake twice, but I'm afraid this post will leave Stirling fans disappointed (no backsies this time).

The standard test of a label's chops is to see how it handles a "green" fragrance. If a company can render botanical notes well, it can do anything. Pine notes are among the most difficult to create for a few reasons: the inevitable comparisons to floor cleaner, the tendency to resemble car air fresheners, and the scent of fresh conifers gets tiresome fast, even if conveyed accurately. Pino Silvestre succeeds as a fougère by using basil as a dupe for pine, and it ends up smelling warm and expansive. Acqua di Selva blends mint with its pine notes to freshen things without straying into air-care territory. It takes a degree of cleverness to pull off a good evergreen frag. The perfumer must understand that less is more, and focus on compositional balance above all else.

Stirling's scent screams "PINE-SOL!!!" for an hour, then morphs into a neon Christmas tree: loud, unpleasant. It lacks dimensionality, and resembles the original green pine air freshener by Little Trees. Perhaps some lavender or spice would've helped. Instead the perfumer misused a cheap frankincense note, and I find myself marginally appreciating the heart more than the top. Does it conjure up a mystical emerald forest of wolves and witches and gorgeous lake sirens? I wish, but no. Avoid this one.

An Updated Opinion of Stirling Spice (Stirling Soap Company)

I reviewed this fragrance back in September, and said (somewhat snidely, regrettably) that it doesn't resemble any iteration of Old Spice by Shulton or P&G. Having worn it a bit more, I want to retract that completely, and issue an apology to Stirling Soap Co. While it isn't a dead-ringer for Old Spice, it isn't as far off as I originally thought.

This is one of the more unique scents I've come across in recent years. While it smells very old-fashioned and musty at first sniff, it's simply the perfumer's generous usage of natural oakmoss throwing my nose off the mark. Old Spice doesn't have oakmoss. In a typical dosage of moss, the effect is simply bold powder; things like Clubman aftershave lotion and Canoe utilize the note as both a fixative and an atmosphere. But in Stirling Spice, the moss is so noticeable that it adopts a rich, woody, almost green tone, feeling slightly sharper than it does in mass-market barbershop scents.

I find this disorienting in an oriental - pardon the pun. It generates a woodier tone that takes an hour or two to fade back enough to allow the subtle spice notes to peek through, but I've noticed they definitely peek through. They're smooth, creamy, very dry, comprised of nutmeg, cinnamon, and soft clove. A semisweet vanilla note balances them out nicely, and everything smells cohesive and surprisingly natural. There's also a beautifully huge floral aura, abstract and almost modern by its sheer scale, that presides over the entire composition. It's a massive, very creamy carnation effect, which is nice, but I also sense a buttery, somewhat indistinct white flower alongside it. Putting the Old Spice issue aside for a moment, and just appreciating the scent, I can say it's one of the better barbershop orientals I've smelled. It's good stuff.

I'm impressed by Stirling Spice, and recommend it wholeheartedly now. Beware that it's not really Old Spice, and I still think it's old-school to an intimidating level, but it's made with above-average materials and it works. They didn't cheap out, and that has me believing Stirling Soap Co. is worth more of my time - much, much more. 

Stirling Spice (Stirling Soap Company)

The Stirling Soap Company is a trendy niche brand in Booneville, Arkansas, run by an entrepreneurial couple who exemplify the American dream. They specialize in shaving soaps, but also offer a wide range of fragrances aimed at the wetshaver community, which is where I was inspired to try their "Spice" scent. Stirling's website says it's "Our best attempt at recreating the classic Old Spice scent," and when I read that, I pulled the trigger and blind bought it. At $22 for 50 ml, it isn't super risky.

I don't regret the purchase, but do regret the fact that Stirling Spice doesn't resemble any iteration of Old Spice by Shulton or P&G. It's in the ballpark, but way outfield, as a musky, powdery amber. It's related more to Royal Copenhagen, a true powder bomb. It isn't very spicy, aside from a blast of nutmeg and clove in the top notes. There's a bitter vanilla note that cuts through the musk, and a natural oakmoss note in the base, which gives it a woody quality. I can smell the moss right off the atomizer. It's a quality extract, but I have no idea what it's doing in a supposed Old Spice clone. It makes for excellent longevity, at around seven (macho) hours, and it works in this composition. Powdery aftershaves and talcs from the 1930s and '40s come to mind when I wear it, and I think its austere nature would be great in talc form.

It's classical barbershop fare; it isn't "old-school," it's ancient. It harkens back to the Caswell-Massey Eon of Tricorn and Zizanie and Max Factor Signature, when musty pre-Nixonian ambers ruled Pangaea. I'm lukewarm on the scent, but I'll continue to explore their range. I like their aesthetic (beautiful green bottles) and their business ethic. They seem to ignore IFRA regs, which is always a good thing. They also gave me a free bar of bath soap in their new "Varen" scent, a retro fern that smells like it's 97% oakmoss. I enjoyed it thoroughly.