Why have I been feeling like sneezing for the last hour? Is it the chilly Irish December breeze? Or is it because I have been wearing Kouros on my wrist?
How to describe Kouros YSL? I might try and say that it’s very intense, very strong and very oriental. Incense, spices, and leather, maybe some florals, yet so strong to be transfigured: this is what it’s about. Or maybe I should put aside fancy terms and let my heart speak: this stuff really stinks.
Perfume Kouros will give you no BS, no compromises with fresh notes like red blood orange. And this thing brought back a childhood memory: the arsenic cake song in Asterix’ movie, where Artifis decides to put only one orange wedge instead of three, probably because it would have been too healthy.
Kouros Yves Saint Laurent is less malicious on the blotter, where it feels as if some of the most smoked layers had been cut off. But again, what does paper know? On the skin you can almost even physically smell it as something solid. It contains civet, a type of musk originally extracted from the gland in the rear side of the animal with the same name (nowadays it’s all synthetic) and that’s probably why at times it smelled like (excuse my French) shit on a stick of incense. After a couple of hours on the skin, and 24 hours on the blotter, Kouros parfum decides to give the world a break: it will let floral and green honey notes emerge from the placid lake of leather it has now become. Yet, smelling it from a close distance still made me want to sneeze.
Kouros is a love-hate fragrance. I don’t hate it, but I wouldn’t make eye contact with it. Wear it if you are old enough to have been divorced at least twice, during winter trip to the North Pole. And maybe, the best review for Kouros Eau de Toilette might indeed be the Arsenic song: