Men
Kouros
Acordes principales
Descripción
Kouros by Yves Saint Laurent is an aromatic fougère fragrance for men, launched in 1981. The nose behind this composition is Pierre Bourdon. The top notes are aldehydes, coriander, clary sage, absinthe and bergamot; the heart notes include patchouli, carnation, vetiver, jasmine, geranium, iris root, cinnamon and lavender; and the base notes are galbanum (civet), musk, honey, leather, oakmoss, amber, tonka bean and vanilla.
Resumen rápido
Pirámide olfativa
Estructura completa de la fragancia: de la salida al fondo.
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Propiedad
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Características
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Longevidad
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Estela
Suave
Moderada
Pesada
Enorme
Género
Femenino
Unisex femenino
Unisex
Unisex masculino
Masculino
Precio
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Excelente precio
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For some nostalgics it is ‘the epitome of masculinity, a powerful and daring fragrance representing strong and confident men,’ but Kouros is basically an olfactory punch to the nose. Its animalised and aggressive opening might have made sense in the 80s, when excess was the norm, but today it smells like a dirty gym, a rush-hour tube train, or sweat covered with cheap cologne. Other options like Dior’s Sauvage Elixir are more refined and less invasive, offering a spiced and masculine touch without that aggressive animalised vibe. Oud Wood by Tom Ford is similar in potency but far more sophisticated. It replaces Kouros’ metallic touch with the warmth of oud and cardamom, making it more elegant. Before spending a euro, try it and let it dry for a couple of hours; you will probably hate it, but you might still have found a gem if you like civet or aldehydes. It is not for today, it is not for me.
Blasphemy to suggest alternatives or compare it with Sauvage Elixir for the family, because it truly belongs to Kouros. Kouros has no rivals that can compete with its imposing masculinity.
Just as Dolores Umbridge wears Oriana by Parfums de Marly, I am sure Lord Voldemort would wear Kouros, only for the great ones.
A perfume that smells like a men’s gym locker room: soap, deodorant, something aquatic and sweaty. There is no more masculine scent on the market.
Edited: Kouros is a legend, having earned its place and relevance many years before reaching its 40 years… to the point that most comment about it even if they don’t know it… that is clearly evident for those who truly use it… With all respect, I consider it a privilege to be able to appreciate and enjoy that jewel. Edited 11/24/2024: My latest bottle has just arrived… and there’s still something left in my 1987 bottle… about a third in the 1993 one… half a bottle of the 2004 one… less than a third in the 2014 one… A treasure!!!!
I read the dismissive statements about this jewel of perfumery with indignation and a little pity. They try to camouflage their criticism with ironic phrases about whether it smells like this or that. Unfortunately, not everyone can appreciate the value of this work of art or the work of master Pierre Bourdon. No one forces them to use it or smell it, so I ask them to have a little more respect if they don’t have good taste.
I have just received a bottle of Kouros by Yves Saint Laurent and I must say it remains a true gem, despite being from 1981. After checking the batch, I discovered my bottle is actually from 2014, giving it over ten years of age, yet it is in almost new condition, which already gave me a good sense of the enduring quality of this classic. From the first spray, it smells extremely clean and fresh, with a fascinating vintage touch. It has a very masculine, deep structure with a timeless presence. Kouros is not afraid to be bold, and that is one of its defining characteristics: it commands attention. What stands out is the very prominent animalic note. That sensation some describe as faecal is contained and controlled thanks to the use of galia (civet), a natural ingredient that adds complexity. Unlike today’s synthetic versions, this one is genuine, with authenticity and character. It may shock those not used to it, but for aficionados of perfumes with strong personality, it is a sign of great authenticity. Longevity is another point in its favour. Despite the years, Kouros remains long-lasting and constantly projects its scent. In summary, it is timeless, very masculine and potent, perfect for those seeking presence and character. Conclusion: If you like perfumes with history, classic elegance, and are not afraid of a touch of animalic, Kouros is a treasure. It has stood the test of time. A true vintage gem!
What can I say about this bloke? I put it on and it smells right. It’s masculine, yes, but not like Drakkar or Polo Green. Kouros smells like freshly applied shaving cream, like a man who takes care of himself and is immaculate. If you’re looking for that clean, post-shave scent, this is it. And watch out, it doesn’t smell old; it’s a doddle. By the way, it smells exactly like Avon’s Black Suede, but with far better quality and that animal note that sets it apart. It’s a lovely line, definitely.
As many comment, absolute masculinity: it smells like an ogre suffering from urinary incontinence who hasn’t washed in a month. If you want to defend your living space in crowds or speed up your divorce, don’t hesitate: it’s perfect. I use it to play pranks on my friends when we go to the perfumery. You splash a dollop (no more) of the potion on them, tell them it’s a YSL delicacy, and they don’t speak to you all day. Try it!!! Yesterday I gave one to a friend of my daughter. The shop assistant started laughing as soon as I pointed to the bottle: I could see it coming. Excellent performance: the stink doesn’t come off in more than 10 hours. Edited: seeing most of the forum mates who love Kouros, I feel like I’m missing something, but I swear I’ll learn to live with it. I don’t think it’s mandatory that you like a perfume. Simply, I express my opinion. Sarcastically? Be it. In any case, I think it’s much worse to disqualify a person or the quality of their tastes, as the “expert” above does (although, to be honest, it doesn’t matter to me at all). Without irony now, keep enjoying Kouros all of you who understand it. I can’t.
Pure musk! Today I want to feel good about myself and this perfume is for that: it highlights the musky, animal, and sweaty scent of a moving male body, refreshing it without masking it. It smells dirty and clean at the same time. It starts with a burst of bitter artemisia, bergamot, coriander, sage, and civet, all sparkling on the skin with some aldehydes. Then comes the floral heart with jasmine, iris, geranium, and a soapy lavender that softens the path before reaching the base: patchouli, amber, musk, leather, and honey intertwine for an oriental air, while vetiver and oakmoss try to keep it civilised… but barely. Pierre Bourdon created something original that hasn’t been repeated. It evokes sweat, showers, rumpled beds, and warm bodies. Kouros continues to ignite the senses after four decades. It still sells like hot cakes in Europe. It’s a masterpiece, even in its current, more domesticated version, and I love it.
It smells like an abandoned old man by his family who cannot wash himself. I swear on my life that I can’t find it logical for someone to have another word for this perfume other than ‘unpleasant’
A fresh and clean scent. I use this perfume when I go for an aimless walk or when I have visitors at home. It smells frankly good.
I’ve just got a bottle and just by opening the box I could already feel that green, acylindrical and aldehydic opening; it seemed similar to Lapidus, but I compared them and this one has that bergamot touch that Lapidus doesn’t have and feels more purple due to its flowers. Immediately after spraying, at ten minutes a very strong soapiness started but with a complex base; I imagine it’s its bitter but enjoyable animal part, it gave me reminiscences of the end of Drakkar Noir but stronger at 10 times the power. After an hour it changed to something with sweet and honeyed tones, also giving me a slight resemblance to Joop Homme. All this was on blotting paper, still need to try on skin…
I want to buy it blind. Once I attended a customer who smelled similar to Ted Lapidus Pour Homme but with a more honeyed note. I was working as a cashier at a Walmart and he let almost the whole supermarket smell like that. Reading comments I don’t know if it could have been this one.
I tried it in a shop and at first I disliked it, then it calmed down and the intensity dropped, but then I noticed the notes I don’t like better. It’s a scent I’m not used to and I’m not sure if I want it. It seems unique, probably due to lack of experience with these fragrances; my grandfather used Varón Dandy and my father Coolwater, I’ve never smelled anything like Kouros at home. I’ll come back if I give it more chances.
A fascinating perfume, one of the most animalistic I’ve heard. One caveat: the current Kouros formula has little to do with the vintage versions which have a more accentuated civet and musk, and that’s why they feel dirtier or more animalistic. I just bought a vintage miniature and comparing it with the current version (batch 2024) the difference is evident. In the current one, the soapy and clean side is very boosted while the musky and animal side is disguised. In the old one, the opposite happens; the dark and animal side is very accentuated, I’d even say you can detect a slight pee smell apart from aromas reminiscent of secretions like sweat. I think the magic of this perfume is that game, that duality between the clean, soapy and luminous side, and that other dirty, sweaty, almost sexual and dark side which makes it a jewel. For lovers of the animal side, this Kouros is a must.
I just bought it this afternoon. I’ve had a shower and sprayed it six times to see what Kouros is like. It’s a well-made perfume, period. No urine smell or anything similar. I respect those who get that vibe, but I smell a blend of Calvin Klein Eternity (floral part) and leather (which I haven’t smelled in any other). I haven’t tried the old formulas, but I remember hearing about it before and never had that sensation. It’s a mega-clean, mega-masculine and mega-singular perfume. If you can test it on a tester first, because it’s true that not everyone will like it… this is for macho men, not for wimps. It’s for confident men who don’t mind not being liked or pleasing others. It’s a brand of personality, singularity, strength and speaking only what’s necessary.
The famous white beast is not for everyone. Personally, I like it a lot, but sometimes it can be very invasive. You can’t find it in shops here in Uruguay anymore, but it’s available online.
Exilir perfumes. Presence, elegance. Sublime. It doesn’t go unnoticed. The GOD of perfumes.
I’ve had it for less than an hour and it’s spectacular; instant love at first sniff. I was hugely surprised; it’s a super-premium Lapidus. I’ll write a full review later. The most interesting thing is how it hits people’s psychology, both positively and negatively, touching sensitive fibres of the subconscious…
Reply to Gogagola’s comment. I have the current version, bought in 2024. Regarding the aroma, as my son says, you smell old but clean. Good summary. Longevity: 4 sprays on the neck at 8:30 am. It’s 11:15 pm and I’m still getting bursts. Beast, but a beast without knowledge. It’s the fragrance that performs best for me alongside Oud Maracuyá and Tuberosa Astrale by Crivelli. Even better than Mancera’s Red Tobacco {the current magnetised one}.
I love this fragrance. Kouros is an acquired taste. Nobody is born loving it. To reach this classic, you first have to smell all your father’s and grandfather’s perfumes. Then, spy on other people’s medicine cabinets and know the shabby pharmacies in your neighbourhood. To want Kouros, it’s mandatory to have worn the mullet cut. If you like Kouros, you also like U2, Phoebe Cates, and GQ magazine. If you’re a collector, you’ll reach a day when your own body will ask for Kouros. Believe me.
The first time I tried it, it was horrible, nauseating. The second time I didn’t like it either and I went to wash my hands running, but I still smelled it and felt something special. I still didn’t like it but couldn’t stop smelling it. I tried it again and I liked it quite a bit. It’s like the ‘masculine’ version of Clinique’s Aromatics Elixir, in terms of strength and aura, an imposing presence. More than charming me, I tolerate it, but I’m addicted. I wouldn’t buy it because I think I couldn’t finish the bottle without loathing it, but it has something that catches you, makes me feel like when on a cold day you put on a heavy coat or a thick scarf, that feeling of being wrapped up and well-being. It’s an aroma that on my skin becomes fetid at first, soapy as it settles, and addictive by the hours. What do I do, do I buy a bottle? Update: I bought it. 2019 batch, a bomb. Curious fact: both this and Chanel’s Antaeus were the favourites and most used by the gay public in the 80s, so all that expression of ‘alpha male perfume’ I read here needs to be looked at because it’s nothing to do with it.
For me, it’s a masculine floral, a crime to pigeonhole it. How to describe such a complete and complex, multifaceted, unique, elegant, powerful, punchy, with personality, masculine… does it smell animal, like urine? Only statements from beginners or those who don’t like it. Kouros is several perfumes in one, mixing eras and styles, making it the pinnacle of designer perfumery and inspiration for exclusive niches. If you get into this of cultivating the olfactory sense, enjoying, dressing fragrances, being an aroma addict, you must pass through Kouros. You must smell it, try it, and hopefully have it, although that will come as an added bonus. I could add more, but I’ll keep editing later. The monolithic Kouros deserves it and gives plenty of talk.
How many absurdities are said about Kouros? Smell of urine? By God… how much damage have YouTube reviewers done. Look, it’s a musky combination with floral touches and exotic woods that smells wonderful. Does it have an animal point? Yes, like all musks, but it doesn’t smell like a goat. This classic smells good at first; anyone with good taste will be drawn to it immediately, without needing acquired taste. For me, its aroma is associated with a guy who used it in the 90s, now mature and changed into Terre d’Hermes. The typical cool guy who took you to discos or concerts, elegant, introducing his girlfriends (all hairdressers). It’s a great classic, although it has lost a bit of performance compared to what I remember (I’m talking about the perfume, although also about my uncle). I think saying it smells like urine or goat is a conspiracy by those who don’t want it to become mass-market. So well thought out, yes. It smells like a goat and goat urine. Run away from it, fools. If you follow a YouTube uncle, you don’t deserve it.
I bought it blind with divided opinions and it was a hit. I must give it more turns, but for now, it’s part of my top 5 classics. At first, it reminded me of Givenchy Gentleman, but soon it changed course. It keeps a pleasant citrus tone amidst the powder, then a soapy current emerges and gains depth, very floral and even a bit talcum-like. That floral structure loses the citrus weight and balances into a strange harmony with a dirty vein, almost a body odour of sweat, but subtle and pleasant, nothing repellent as read. It’s strange and pleasurable. That emphasis on the corporeal gives it a very sexual connotation. Perfume to put on her, hehe. Clearly classic, many will smell it as old, but it’s not negative.
1985 and Kate Bush singing ‘Running Up That Hill’, asking God to swap places with her partner. If Kate were a man, in his wardrobe or bathroom, there would be a bottle of Kouros, the icon of the 80s. What made men of that era buy the myth? The name: solid, classic, youthful, risky, eternal. Plus, the effluvia of the archaic, years of Indiana Jones. A boring archaeology professor with a hat and whip, a mild misanthrope and attractive. Kouros, a name only associated with hieroglyphs, was what they needed to step out. It united fantasies of bravery, success, and mystery. With John Williams in the background, they sprayed that alchemy that protected Indiana from the snakes. Success was also the white bottle with its dystopian energy, conveying a cold, balanced cleanliness, Kubrick style. Striking, it defines the 80s. The designer played with codes and conveys grand simplicity. A silhouette that projects an optimistic mood about the future. It makes you trust in timeless virtues. With it in hand, you shout that happiness is possible. But let’s talk about the perfume. Created by Pierre Bourdon at his best. It can’t be defined with simple adjectives. Spraying Kouros is seeing the back of an anaconda in the swamp, the smell of a bear’s crusty eyes waking up, bathing in warm vodka and absinthe, an orgy in plague times. It comes out dense, green, aldehydic, powerful, and deceptive. It mutates in the dry down into something dark: lavender, patchouli, and vetiver. Sophistication that breaks in two hours by a wild, sinful flank, Tom Waits style. In that dark, sweaty, musky, civet-filled closing, Kouros explains itself. Perhaps the best perfume of all time because it shows you are both angel and demon. It raises the dilemma of achieving calm through desire and reason. No perfume reaches this conceptual level with such exquisite detail. No detractor has a bottle, and evaluating it on paper is like condensing The Godfather into a TikTok reel. To understand Kouros, you have to live it, let it accept you once mature. A sensor for those who dare to lose. The bottle looks down from above, hiding from the average customer. The best time to take a risk. One of the few works of art. Kate still hasn’t managed to make men feel like women or vice versa. Perhaps when Kouros, the ultimate masculinity, is used by those who love perfumery without gender, and we see our lights and shadows in the mirror. I don’t lose hope; Snoop Dog confessed his favourite is Delina, together we keep running up that hill.
I got a 2024 batch bottle and confirmed my suspicions: the latest reformulations improved the performance. On the other hand, the aroma is less rich in nuances, especially in the soapy part as it dries. Now I sense more of the floral and it’s more linear. It’s true that Kouros is no longer the masterpiece of before, but we must celebrate that it’s still here and without risk of disappearing (as sadly happened with its brother Body Kouros 😓).
The king of perfumes. It has an air, a mystery. Yes, it has that vintage 80s touch that makes it unique today. Upon spraying, it projects massively, smelling of soap and a clean man (typical of its era), before exploding into a sweet, syrupy, musky blend that lasts forever. They say it smells like a clean, sweaty man, and they’re right. It projects and lasts a long time. Nothing comes close to Kouros. Inspirations like Ted Lapidus Sport don’t even come close to its heels. People tell me it smells like Tony Montana in Scarface, and I love that it has a bad rep online because nobody searches for it; it goes unnoticed on the internet but in real life, it’s another world. It doesn’t get mass-produced and the price remains low. Let’s keep it a secret. With this, I closed my search for the perfect signature scent. As a good consumer, I’m now scared they’ll stop producing it, and I want to buy bottles every time I see a deal. P.S. They say it smells like urine. I hope it’s part of the strategy to keep it hidden. Very good strategy, yes, it smells like urine 😉
Top quality, but it gets out of hand. I tried it in the 90s and threw it away because it made me feel suffocated. It doesn’t just smell bad on the wearer; after a while, the entire surroundings smell unpleasant. Very intrusive.
With all the pain in my heart. I smelled it for the first time yesterday and hated it; I didn’t want to hate it but unfortunately I put it on my hand instead of paper. The opening reminded me of a bathroom full of 80s students putting on hair lacquer at the same time as peeing, and yes, boys, it smells like a pee zone. You know when you pass a house and the pee has dried in the sun; the opening smells like that. What surprised me is that after twenty minutes it changes completely and what was once intense is now soap. Let’s say the opening recalls the use of a WC and then someone cleaned them all. I don’t consider it a perfume for now; I don’t see anyone under forty using it, I feel it needs a redesign of both the bottle and the ingredients. Curiously, I went with a relative who lived in the 80s during their adolescence and remembered it like that but more intense; he liked it but did recall it’s a perfume that wouldn’t be used these days. By the way, it has a trail but in my case it doesn’t last long; one shower and it’s gone, something that doesn’t happen with other perfumes for me.
I bought a decant thinking I’d love it, but it ended up not pleasing me. It has a smell that reminds me of animal urine from the countryside. It gives me headaches and nausea. Definitely not the fragrance for me.
I have a batch from 2108 and it’s a real beast in projection and longevity… The first time I bought it was in 1994 and I loved it… Today I still use it… I don’t care what people think, I really enjoy this perfume every time I use it… It’s for the ALPHA male.
I bought Kouros because its aroma reminded me of Nag Champa incense before lighting it: that soapy, floral smell that’s clean but with a dirty undertone. Using it, the experience is broader; it transports you to a specific era and the sensations are so palpable you almost see a Don Frye-style moustached man in the 80s shaving in front of a mirror and heading out with a denim jacket and a pack of cigarettes. But apart from the images, it smells like a barbershop, soap, and ferns. It’s one of those baroque fragrances with so many notes it’s hard to define the rest of the flowers, but they’re there. It’s a flagship fragrance of masculinity and tremendously potent, like a grunting polar bear staring at the camera. I’ll set its animalic dry-down aside: yes, it’s not exaggeration or myth; besides being potent, it can smell dirty, probably due to the aldehydes giving it that urine touch, and mixed with the clean parts, it completes that male dressing room scene. Personally, I embrace those contrasts; they seem endearing and part of the Kouros experience. It’s fantastic for those days when you shave to show off your chin and feel like facing the day with a masculine approach, be damned who gets annoyed.
No nonsense: this is a masterpiece of perfumery. One of the best in history, alongside Shalimar, Eau Sauvage, Acqua di Parma Colonia, or Amouage Interlude. Not suitable for pre-pubescent, depilated, habañero, and cupcake-vanilla girls. It’s direct, alpha male, big-eared, hairy-chested and armpit uncle stuff. Smells like clean male skin after a good hour of pleasure with a woman. Animalic to the max, yet clean. Almost inseparable nuances, complexity of notes unfit for this era of MP3 perfumes with 4 or 5 notes that are atrophying our taste. If you’re a metrosexual with inclusive language, this isn’t for you; better stick to vanilla and feminine jasmines. This is for big-eared males with well-set tails. Most people today will dislike how you smell, but what does an alpha male care about what they think? Try it first if you’re young, as it might make you want to vomit.
I’d read it smelled like air freshener and, indeed, it smells like a lavatory on a plane or bus when passing through the jungle, impressive! It also reminded me of Joop! without the cherry. It’s a super intense aroma; they say it smells like urine when dry, but I think it’s the subconscious associating the scent with a toilet. In the end, it’s a sharp, potent, and brilliant spark, just what gives this work its appeal. Does it smell very masculine? I differ here; yes, it smells alpha, but I expected something more colossal, more ‘sweaty and sharp’. Not bad, although basic A*Men smelled dirtier to me. Is it addictive? VERY ADDICTIVE! Hardly heard it before I couldn’t tear my nose away from the atomiser. I went from total dislike to inevitable addiction, well, like most who use this white bottle. It’s not easy; you need balls to use something like this. Don’t use or buy it expecting positive reactions; everyone will say you smell odd, like real nature, wild, like a rotting orange, not little flowers. No! This has a delicious, electrifying, and inexplicable personality. What an addiction. (And on clothes it’s surprising: you only feel the soap part. The civet and the ‘sweaty’ come through on the skin. Only recommend it to smell irreverent and defiant, for those days when hell hath no fury like a woman scorned! Projection/Trail: 8.7, Longevity: 8.3. Final rating: 8/10. 80.7% perfection).
My favourite perfume, though difficult. My wife hates it; I smell it whenever I can. I have two vintage miniatures and also the modern one, which has clearly lost its punch. It has a sweetness I love; I don’t know how to describe it because it’s dense, a literal olfactory construction carved in stone.
Smells clean, soapy, like a proper gentleman. 10/10.
I got this via a swap; I’ve always been intrigued by retro perfumes and wanted to know how masculinity from another era smells. Even without spraying, it has a very particular floral incense scent. Once applied, those animal notes come out. The sensation is curious: as if someone peed on a wall, threw flowers on top, and the sun dried everything. It sounds odd, but not unpleasant; it’s a mix of dried flowers and a very characteristic animal touch. Over time, it becomes more soapy, like old soap, and a mature citrus vibe emerges, almost like a rotting orange, giving it a unique character. It’s addictive, with that animal side adding vigour and personality, but it’s intense and heavy. It projects a lot and isn’t discreet. I wouldn’t recommend buying it blindly; a friend smelled it and didn’t like it at all. I think it’s more for personal enjoyment than to please everyone. In short: a retro fragrance, very particular and full of personality. Not for everyone, but if you like vintage, it’s an interesting experience.
Back to what makes me happy. Today I went all out in the morning: layering with a drop of the vintage on the nape and another on the chest, plus two sprays of the modern on the neck. I feel powerful, projecting maximum masculinity. Did I get compliments? No. Does it matter? Not a bit.