Tabac by Tabac

Just picked up this cologne, 300ml for €18, from a batch made 10 months ago. I’ll admit I didn’t own it before due to prejudice, but I’ve missed out on a great find. It has that vintage touch that suits it perfectly. It doesn’t smell like oud or vanilla; it’s a cheap bulk fragrance, but its evolution is enviable. It opens classic, a mix of Royale Ambree and soap. The heart is floral/woody with dry sandalwood, powdery iris root, and some green notes like pine. The base softens into wood with pleasant powdery touches and a hint of orange blossom. It reminds me of Molinard’s Habanita worn close to the skin. Honestly, it’s a beauty. It’s not simple, it’s worth it, it’s inoffensive, and it recalls Varon Dandy. I think Tabac should be considered indie. My use: for sleeping, after a shower, or daily. Gender: unisex, slightly masculine. Climate: temperate or cold, spring/autumn. In heat, the powder note is annoying. Time of day: daytime.

I didn’t like it, maybe. It smells like a man over 70. What a pity, I tried it three times and nothing. Maybe mixing powder with citrus wood would fix it, but as is, it smells like a very old person. I might be wrong, but that’s the impression it gives me.

The 90s were my most intense and happy era. Teenager, touching tits, flirting with forbidden substances, riding my battered bike, and exercising freedom when the mobile phone was just a toy. Sundays were football and sports carousels, listening to my parents as oracles. One day I visited my uncle, a peculiar character with giant earrings, leather boots, ripped jeans, a sleeveless tee, and long hair. He tuned his car with disproportionate rims and music at full volume. I traded bacalao with Héroes del Silencio, smoked expensive Camels, and his house had incense and rare African objects. Imagine that. On a wooden table, a huge bottle: Tabac, a perfume I had never seen. At home, my dad used his Aqua Brava bottle. Opening the splash, I discovered the first real impact: Tabac. A scent from another world. For 20 years I remembered that aroma with clarity, until last week I got a spray bottle. Don’t ask why a collector didn’t have that first click; there’s no explanation, but I’ve finally fixed it. The opening threw me off: sharp neroli and strong alcohol, nothing like my memory. Minutes later, tons of musk under a rich floral base, similar to Rasasi Musk Naqaya (less projection). At first, I couldn’t detect my memory scent, but with time the magic emerged. As the base notes entered… BOOM. That smell returned, perhaps with less force, but enchanting and super evocative. I wonder if my uncle had the EDT or EDC. It’s the clear example that cheap niche perfumes can be made and that price is usually just positioning.

Often, especially in winter, I feel drawn to scents from the past: the 70s, 80s, 90s, which I didn’t know were in fashion because I was a kid or I was attracted to other names. I wonder what is in these fragrances that makes me fall in love again without remedy. I find them more elegant and complex than many current perfumes, and I like that feeling because it reminds me of distant times when gallantry was normal, even among young people, when being a woman meant someone would open the door for you, help with your coat, congratulate you, listen to you… When I use old scents, I feel like a man from the old times and I like it. The vintage version of Tabac EDC (based on an 80s bottle) is something uncommon. A chic fragrance that wanders memories to the last days of summer or warm autumn. Tabac is a delicious time machine, loaded with musk, woody and floral tones with an animalic touch that fits perfectly. More intense and richer than the current version, inevitably reformulated, it opens sweet and fresh with a harmonious and nostalgic sensation. In the heart phase, a wonderful arc from flowers to wood with subtle sweetness. The end, warmed by amber and vanilla, is pure pleasure. So now I smell like an old man? Well, I don’t care about modernity, this version is a classic resting on a dusty shelf with personality and charisma that contemporary fragrances can only dream of.

Literally smells like any supermarket shaving cream. Clean barbershop scent, I suppose… Like the splash. For next spring and summer, I’ll buy the roilette and shower gel. To feel and be clean and fresh.

A cologne that Germans know how to make well. It’s classic, but delicious, I feel white flowers so well assembled that they are magical in their flight. Trail and longevity are excellent. Very versatile, it doesn’t go unnoticed and generates compliments. Its round metal box bottle is recommended; the cardboard one is different. It’s an EDC that behaves like an EDT. The pity is that it was reformulated. Until the end of 2015 it had the original formula in metal boxes; now it comes in cardboard, cheaper but without resemblance to what it used to be. For me it’s already a COLOGNE in oblivion, except for what little remains in the house closet.

@pacolete hahaha, it doesn’t remind me of it at all, but that perception must be due to the aldehydes; it always reminds me of Nelly Lacquer by Air de Loewe, another aldehydic bomb.

Tabac EDC has always seemed very complex, unique, and old-school to me. I’ve used it countless times, and it’s one of my favorites. Although there might be a reformulation, tired of refilling bottles, I bought a 300ml one and haven’t bought another since. I don’t think Tabac recreates a real tobacco note; it’s more of an idea, a hazy sensation from the contrast between clean notes (aldehydes, bergamot, lavender) and dark ones (geranium, moss, carnation). It reminds me of packed jazz clubs, black-and-white images of a mature, adult cologne. Fascinating powdery aroma, evocative like a French film noir. It’s robust, with good longevity and projection. If you’re not into this vibe, you might not like it. For me, it’s an undisputed classic: 10/10.

TABAC MAURER & WIRTZ: Drake-level. To be honest with you, sometimes you’re devastating. Are you that sure? There’s another ad for ‘Mauer & Witz Tabac Original from 2014’, but my review is for the eau de cologne. I love this fragrance, the original and the reformulated one (it keeps the spirit of the original). I know it well; I smelled it for years on the man I loved and recently bought it myself. Fresh opening with bergamot and neroli, then it settles and lasts a long time, more than many EDPs. I sprayed my wrists over 5 hours ago, and although I’ve washed my hands, I still perceive it perfectly. On me, chamomile stands out first, followed by carnation, sandalwood, and amber. It smells like a tobacco plant, Nicotiana, with a velvety, soft, enveloping, and very powdery character. No great sillage; it’s enjoyed close to the skin, inviting short distances. A man wearing this fragrance hints at freshness, tenderness, and shelter. I remember you ‘killed me sweetly’ with your scent. It’s not trendy, it’s exclusive, and it speaks for itself. The bottle is a collectible treasure. The price is a gift, not cheap. One thing is the cost, and another is the value. Cheers.

A few months ago I bought a large bottle of Tabac and it has nothing to do with what I remembered when it was small. Today’s Tabac isn’t bad; it’s a pleasant, unpretentious Eau de Cologne for after a shower, unassuming, and it keeps the classic aroma base, but now I find it more generic and soft, with that typical old barbershop smell that Floyd aftershave or classic Old Spice have. For me, Tabac was a delicious, artificial burst of aldehydes, similar to the first impression of Kouros, then a creamy but harsh, dry, white development, like a corrupted white potion in tobacco leaves. It was never a bomb of projection or longevity; that’s in its DNA, but today’s Tabac is washed-out, harmless, and soft. And what I loved was its gravity, the low, rough notes, rough yet velvet. It still has that sensation, but it asks permission not to bother, speaking very quietly. Back then, in its simplicity, I found interesting nuances that set it apart from other classic colognes. My 300ml bottle has been around for years and bears the legend Eau de Cologne.

Vintage cologne. A man doesn’t need to wear a fragrance with millions of wood notes to feel like a man; a man is defined by his attitude. Tabac is one of the most beautiful fragrances I’ve had, perfect, creamy, soft, intimate, romantic, yet with character. It doesn’t need to be loud to be superior. The neroli and chamomile notes are crafted perfectly, slightly powdery, creamy, with a base of musk, ambergris, and aldehydes. The vanilla is timid; I don’t detect lavender or carnation. The neroli and especially the chamomile (creamy, not metallic) steal the show. It’s like a cross between Chanel No. 5 (without excessive aldehydes or animal side) and traditional colognes. It takes the best of both, with chamomile setting it apart. Exquisite. The sad part is that the good stuff doesn’t last long.

@ Maeva. Well, if that’s the case, let’s make the most of it. It’s great luck to have grabbed this bottle last October 2015. We’ll see how the landscape looks then. For now, we’ll enjoy these precious notes and their excellent longevity and sillage.

Finally, I tried the EDT, and I agree with you, Juancar677. Why buy it if the EDC is already perfect? Tabac EDC is unbeatable in quality, versatility, and longevity, and it’s available at a good price online or in drugstores. I’d stick with the EDC over the EDT. As bofifa said, the EDT is more conventional, with powerful ’70s and ’80s green aromatics, and I think it loses quality to them. The EDC is more complex and beautiful. The EDT might be soapy, but the EDC is even more so, plus powdery and musky; it gives more natural freshness and cleanliness. No wonder, Tabac EDC was created in the image of a line of soaps from the 1930s. The EDC is richer, floral, and aldehydic, with its distinctive tobacco note. On my skin, it lasted longer (EDC: 8 hours; EDT: 5). Now comes the sad chapter of reformulations… Luckily, my EDC is years old. They told me they’ve been equalized for the past couple of years, so the EDC as we know it is history. I’m going to hunt for another one with the old box. The new 2014 Tabac is a crude simplification. If it lacks aldehydes and tobacco, is it still Tabac? There are photos of all versions on the Mäurer & Wirtz website. My EDC was between 1994 and 2000, already the second or third reformulation since the 1959 version. I suppose ‘Original’ is like ‘Initial’ or ‘Première’, an invitation to bite the hook of buying a classic faithful to its beginnings.

Thanks Maeva for your words. I’m very happy with Tabac and I don’t care if it’s EDC; its performance is optimal on me, and that’s enough. I haven’t tried it at night, but from morning to afternoon it lasts all day; maybe the EDT works well at night. The performance is for all seasons: fresh in summer and paradoxically enveloping in winter. This Eau de Cologne is no ordinary one, and it shows. It’s as pleasant as flowers or a natural space. It’s almost magical in my opinion and performs more than the reviews say. It’s not cheap, almost 60 euros, but since it’s 300 ml without a spray, there’s no need to complain much.

I don’t know the EDT, but I’ll ask at the department stores where I buy the EDC. As for the latter, I just say it’s an extraordinary eau de cologne that behaves like a typical perfume even though it isn’t. I’ve received more compliments with it than with expensive niche perfumes. It has very pleasant notes that project well, especially florals. Longevity and sillage are tremendous, not to be envied by any EDT. It’s not very expensive in 300 ml bottles without a sprayer. I continue to think it’s the queen of the Eau de Cologne. A true gem without a doubt.