L’Anarchiste by Caron
Men 2000
Main accords
Description
L'Anarchiste by Caron is a woody fragrance for men. Launched in 2000, this composition was created by perfumer Richard Fraysse. Its olfactory structure unfolds with top notes of mint and neroli; a heart of cinnamon, vetiver, Virginia cedar, guaiac wood, and sandalwood; and a base of musk.
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The olfactory pyramid
A guide to the opening, heart and lasting trail of the fragrance.
The community speaks
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In the collection
Leading answer I own it
1,800 votes
What do you think?
Leading answer Like it
655 votes
Season
Choose severalLeading answer Autumn
554 votes
Time of day
Choose severalLeading answer Day
344 votes
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Fragrance profile
About L’Anarchiste
L’Anarchiste by Caron is a woody fragrance for men. Launched in 2000, this composition was created by perfumer Richard Fraysse. Its olfactory structure unfolds with top notes of mint and neroli; a heart of cinnamon, vetiver, Virginia cedar, guaiac wood, and sandalwood; and a base of musk.
Green, herbal and fougère Spices Woods and mosses
It may remind you of
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How it wears
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Longevity
Leading answer Long-lasting
247 votes
Sillage
Leading answer Moderate
343 votes
Character
Leading answer Traditionally masculine
100 votes
Value perception
Leading answer Fair price
85 votes
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Community reviews
6 reviews
Share what you noticed: opening, drydown, sillage and the moments when it works for you.
L’ANARCHISTE by Caron is the exact opposite of what its name promises: it’s a conformist, understated fragrance with no fuss. It has a serious acidic note, neither very citrusy nor refreshing, but rather sober. It’s as if the young rebel transformed into a rigorous gentleman who only oxygenates the air with a menthol touch and a spiced neroli. Ideal for reading in an old library, it’s more woody than citrus, with a soft cinnamon and blond tobacco base. Guaiac blends cedar and vetiver, moving them away from herbaceousness toward unctuous oriental resins. I detected a sweet meliferous touch, like just the right amount of molasses, giving an intoxicating sensation. To try it, you need to bring your nose close to the skin; it has almost no sillage, but its complexity is enormous.
L’ANARCHISTE by Caron is the complete opposite of what its name promises: it’s a conformist, discreet fragrance, no fuss at all. It has a serious acidic note, neither very citrusy nor refreshing, but rather sober. It’s as if the young rebel turned into a stern gentleman who only oxygenates the room with a mentholated touch and a spiced neroli. Ideal for reading in an old library, it’s more woody than citrus, with a soft cinnamon and blond tobacco base. Guaiac blends cedar and vetiver, moving them away from herbaceousness and toward oily oriental resins. I detected a sweet meliferous touch, like just the right amount of molasses, giving a heady sensation. To test it, you have to bring your nose close to the skin; it has almost no trail, but its complexity is enormous.
I tried all of Caron’s men’s fragrances in samples and they’re interesting given the price. They’re gentlemanly scents that transport you to another era. L’Anarchiste, as Spartacus says, is strange and shocked me when I applied it. It’s an uncommon scent; while the notes are common, the blend is intriguing and mysterious. The iron-like accord, almost blood-like, is very noticeable. Paired with mint, it smells cold, like a heavy metal outfit, though the cinnamon and woods prevent it from being too chilly. It’s an obscure fragrance, even for experts, with great value and a peculiar aroma. I wore it in early September and think it works in all seasons, except for casual occasions, since it doesn’t have a heavy sillage.
It’s a rare fragrance. The creation date doesn’t match its scent: it recalls 90s fougères but with a sinister edge, like blood mixed with moldy plasterboard ceilings in an abandoned apartment. It smells of dental fluorine, very sanitized, over a base of annoying dampness, between bone wax and something macabre, though not so much due to the classic shaving foam notes. In the heart it improves: mint, spicy cinnamon, lavender (not listed), and that 90s hygiene sensation, like shaving spray or toothpaste. It didn’t succeed, and I’m not surprised by the mess between name, bottle, and scent. The bottle and name are suggestive, but the perfume smells like a Soviet dentist’s office; I would have added a moldy musk, a catacomb vibe, and dampness, which would have fit it perfectly.
I tested all of Caron’s masculine fragrances in samples, and they are interesting given their price. They are gentlemanly scents that transport you to another era. L’Anarchiste, as Spartacus says, is strange and hit me when I applied it. It’s an uncommon scent; although the notes are common, the blend is interesting and mysterious. The ferrous accord, almost like blood, is very noticeable. Along with the mint, it smells cold, like a heavy metal shirt, though the cinnamon and woods prevent it from being too chilly. It’s an unknown fragrance, even for experts, with great value for money and a peculiar aroma. I wore it in early September and think it works in all seasons, except for casual occasions, since it doesn’t have a heavy sillage.
It’s a rare perfume. The creation date doesn’t match its scent: it recalls 90s fougères but with a sinister side, like blood mixed with moldy plasterboard ceilings in a forgotten apartment. It smells of dental fluorine, very sanitized, over a base of bothersome dampness, between bone wax and something macabre, though not quite due to the classic shaving foam notes. In the mid-phase it improves: mint, spicy cinnamon, lavender (not listed), and that 90s hygiene sensation, like shaving spray or toothpaste. It didn’t succeed, and I’m not surprised by the mess between the name, bottle, and scent. The bottle and name are suggestive, but the perfume smells like a Soviet dentist’s office; I would have added a moldy musk, a catacomb, and dampness, which would have fit it perfectly.