FRAGRANCE | Fahrenheit EDT (Vintage) by Dior: In praise of an icon and its groundbreaking gasoline accord

As I write this, the unrelenting gasoline price hikes have been hitting the memes to no end. Even fragheads have joined in the fray, sharing memes about wearing something expensive—gasoline that is. Of course no one in his right mind would do such a thing but there is one fragrance you can safely wear that's famous for its gasoline accord and one that remains unrivaled to this day: Dior's groundbreaking 1988 classic, Fahrenheit.

It's no secret that this fragrance has undergone several reformulations through the years and not for the better quite unfortunately. I don't have the latest version but I've read that the gasoline accord (which has something to do with the violet and how it blends with other notes in the composition) loved by so many has been seriously toned down in favor of a more amped-up vanilla. I'm lucky to have copped vintage formulations, though (sans box): first, a 2003 batch (3C01), which I still can't reconcile if it's the original version or the first reformulation; and later, a 1989 batch (9439H) of the original. The latter bears the 30 Avenue Hoche address.

The two bottles are identical in scent, with very minor differences that only became evident after I tried picking them apart. One thing that cannot be denied, though, is that both have immensely powerful gasoline accords that are practically the hallmark of this decades-old fragrance. Both are also underscored by a prominent leather that's been completely doused in petrol. It's a treatment that remains unique to this day, one that has curiously never been copied through all those years (except for clones, perhaps). Compare it to the likes of later releases like Tom Ford Tuscan Leather, Valentino Uomo Intense, and Gucci Guilty Absolute—all of which have either started, or are representative of, fruity-sweet, spicy, and dry leather trends, respectively—and you'll realize just how Fahrenheit remains one of a kind.

The 1989 bottle carries tiny hints of sweetness and citruses in the opening but are overrun by the gasoline in no time. The scent is also flecked with a mild spiciness that gives it depth, followed shortly by nondescript floral nuances but are only noticeable when sniffed up close. A cool, airy contrast hangs discreetly overhead, careful not to challenge the gasoline's dominance. An hour or two later, a very mild sweetness begins coursing through in the background. It's smooth, with a remote amber-vanilla resemblance that works as yet another supporting note in the composition.

As for the 2003 bottle, the citruses in the opening are slightly more showy but are just as short-lived as in the 1989 one. The gasoline, on the other hand, appears a little rougher here, more aggressive. There's also something burnt and smoky rising but it leaves after around fifteen to thirty minutes. All other elements are practically the same except for the late-stage mild sweetness that, similar to the petrol accord, is not as smooth.

In terms of performance, both bottles pack some serious punch. I wore the 2003 version to work today and much to my delight, I kept on catching whiffs of it from under my KF94 mask even after several hours. Even the cloying Clive Christian E Gourmande Oriental never came close to achieving such a feat. As far as men's fragrances go, vintage Fahrenheit truly is the epitome of an 80s powerhouse. Yes, it does mellow eventually like everything else, and this is when the scent reveals a light, musky facet lurking underneath all that leather and gasoline. It's just absolutely gorgeous and unabashedly masculine! The younger generation may predictably find it dated but my, oh my, you're missing out on a classic and an icon. The current formulation may be a shadow of its former scent but I don't think it's that bad. But of course, if you stumble upon a much earlier batch, go get it and you will be rewarded.