My mom bought this for my dad a couple of years ago, paid around sixty euros for it. He sprayed it once, decided it was too strong, and the bottle sat untouched ever since.
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During one of our sniffing sessions I tried her BDK Gris Charnel first, black tea and fig, quiet, easy to like. That’s when she mentioned the other bottle gathering dust, my dad’s Myths Man. Did I want it?
Amber, vetiver, a touch of incense, chrysanthemum somewhere in the mix, not the combination I’d have picked first, but an Amouage bottle was already on the wishlist, and this one landed in my hands before I had to go looking for one. She handed it over, and I spent the evening on Parfumo figuring out what I’d actually been given: a 2016 release from three perfumers, discontinued now and climbing steadily on the secondhand market. My mom’s sixty euros wouldn’t come close to replacing it today.
On the Skin
On skin, the chrysanthemum shows up early and doesn’t apologize for it, mixed with an incense-heavy ash that dominates the opening. This is the point where people either lean in or bail. I don’t get the graveyard or church association some reviewers reach for. I know that reference point well, other dark, labdanum-forward fragrances give me exactly that feeling, heavy and funereal. Myths Man doesn’t land there for me. It reads smoky and ashy, but alive rather than somber. Leather is present but quiet, more texture than note, nowhere near as loud as the ash and incense sitting on top.
The closest thing I know to it is Swiss Arabian Incense 01, but that one is lighter across the board, less ash, less weight behind it. Myths Man commits harder to the smoke.
Performance
My dad’s reaction tells you most of what you need to know about how this one performs. He sprayed it once and never touched the bottle again because it was, in his words, too strong. That’s not a knock. It’s a fragrance that shows up and stays, which is exactly why it isn’t going into daily rotation.
The Verdict
This one is staying on the shelf for fall and winter evenings, the kind of occasion where a loud, smoky, faintly ecclesiastical fragrance actually earns its keep. It’s my first proper niche bottle, and I didn’t even have to pay for it. My dad’s loss, in the most literal sense, and I’m not giving it back.
