I finally got my nose on By Kilian Angels’ Share, mostly because it made such a strong run in the Booze War and I wanted to understand what made it so appealing. Is it really as great as many have described, or does it push you to a dupe, leaving you feeling less than satisfied? This one’s made the rounds here more than a few times, so most of you know it well, but for anyone who hasn’t had their nose on it yet, it opens with a rich cognac note, warm and slightly sweet, then moves into a spiced heart of cinnamon, tonka, and oak before settling into a cozy base of praline, vanilla, and sandalwood that feels made for cooler weather. That first spray of my decant stopped me in my tracks. It was one of the most beautifully complex openings I can remember smelling, with so much happening at once that it felt almost suspended in time. I’ll remember it as me sitting on my enclosed porch, watching the snow sparkle in the sun as I took it in. The setting was perfect, and maybe that was the problem, because nothing really is. As it began to move and settle into its richer, more familiar form, all I could think was that I wished it had stayed right there, not because what came next was bad, but because what it was felt rarer than what it became. I get why this one has its following, and I also get why some of you bounce off it. By the time it settled into that rich, spicy, woody character, it hardly resembled the sweet warmth of the cognac that opened it. Had that initial, beautifully complex impression remained, this one would have truly commanded its price tag. For me, the experience was less about liking or disliking it and more about realizing how much I value those fleeting moments when a fragrance feels impossibly alive before choosing a direction. That said, since it doesn’t match my clean-and-fresh scent profile, it’s not something I’d typically reach for to wear out. But as a decant and a curiosity, I’m glad I sprung for it, and I don’t regret the experience at all.

I swear the fragrance game has turned into Uber. Not literally, obviously—but the whole vibe is the same: everyone’s jumping in, the market is flooded, pricing feels random, and hype basically sets the “rate” more than actual quality. Back then, it felt like there was a clearer ladder: designers → niche → the really expensive stuff. Now it’s like: - $40 clone that screams for 12 hours - $150 designer that lasts 4–6 - $300 niche that’s smoother but “quiet.” - $500+ luxury line that’s basically paying for branding + bottle + exclusivity And the crazy part is… the price difference isn’t always reflected in how “good” it smells to the average person, especially with how people judge fragrances now. Because honestly, a lot of people have started equating performance with quality. So you get this whole trend where people are convinced that cheaper clones are better than the originals. And I get why they think that: - Louder + longer = “better” (especially for newer hobbyists) - Clones often nail the opening, and that’s all many people really judge - If you’re not doing side-by-side testing, a clone can smell “identical” in the air - Paying $50 and getting “close enough” feels like a win… paying $300 for something subtle feels like you got scammed - Social media rewards hot takes like “THIS IS BETTER THAN THE ORIGINAL,” so it becomes a flex to say it But when you actually compare them properly, it’s usually the same story: Originals tend to be smoother, more balanced, better blended, and have a nicer drydown. Clones tend to be louder, simpler, and more linear, and sometimes have that harsh/chemical/musky “clone DNA” after an hour. The way I see it: Clones win in the first 30–60 minutes and on loud compliments. Originals win after hour 2 when you actually care about how it wears up close. And that’s why the market feels “Uber-ified” now. It’s less about artistry and more about volume, hype, and “surge pricing” driven by FOMO and influencers. Everyone’s just trying to get the biggest hit of scent for the cheapest ride.