# Floris — 1962

> 1962 is the standout of Floris London's discontinued 2016 "The Fragrance Journals" trio, an Eau de Parfum nominally evoking bohemian Soho in the summer of 1962. In practice it is a polished, green-aro

## Essence
1962 is the standout of Floris London's discontinued 2016 "The Fragrance Journals" trio, an Eau de Parfum nominally evoking bohemian Soho in the summer of 1962. In practice it is a polished, green-aromatic woody-chypre built around a gorgeous fresh-cypress heart. It earned cult status almost entirely on one comparison, as a more wearable, lighter, airier sibling of Tom Ford's Private Blend Italian Cypress at a fraction of the price, and its discontinuation turned it into a sought-after hidden gem.
## Scent Profile
The opening is a bright, slightly sharp burst of citrus, green mandarin and bergamot that many read as lemon and lime, laced immediately with a cool spearmint and a musty, old-feeling clove. That clove-and-mint pairing over citrus gives the first twenty-five minutes a retro-aftershave character, and a minority find the camphor-mint opening bracing, even tiger-balm-like.
As it settles around the one-hour mark, the citrus and mint recede and the coniferous, woody cypress takes center stage, supported by basil's green herbaceousness and just-perceptible jasmine and lily-of-the-valley that lighten the heart rather than floralize it. By three hours it has gone woody-herbal-green, and by five hours the sillage is intimate, leaving cypress, basil, spearmint, cedar, oakmoss and a touch of amber.
The drydown is a classically structured oakmoss-and-cedar chypre base with slightly sweet amber. The signature accord is spiced fresh cypress over mossy woods, and the detail reviewers single out as the stroke of craft is the spearmint riding under the cypress without ever dominating it.
## Performance
Performance reports are genuinely mixed, which became part of the fragrance's lore. Optimists report excellent longevity of eight to eleven hours, in one case detectable from a morning application into the next day. Realists call it a good cypress fragrance let down by middling performance, with projection pulling in to a close, intimate wear after the first couple of hours. The reconciliation is that projection is very good early and longevity is long, but it transitions to a quiet, skin-proximate scent fairly quickly. It is versatile across seasons, with cooler weather and spring favored and only peak summer heat flagged as a possible exception. A few sprays project more than expected.
## Wearing Context
Pitched as unisex, it reads by near-unanimous account as a classic gentleman's aromatic: mature, elegant and slightly old-fashioned in the best sense, the kind of crisp, clean, professional scent suited to an office or a daytime signature. It works day or night and across most of the year. The social impression is sophisticated, refined and classic, a buttoned-up, British-reserved counterpoint to the brasher 1970s masculines it nods to rather than a brash statement itself.
## Comparisons & DNA
- Against Tom Ford Italian Cypress, the reference nearly every reviewer cites, it is the airier, lighter, more intimate and arguably more elegant version, where Italian Cypress is denser, smokier and more potent.
- Against vintage Polo (Ralph Lauren), it shares the mossy-piney backbone.
- Against Halston Z-14, it echoes the spiced-cypress-and-clove structure.
- Against Xerjoff Fiero, it is a more polished take on the same idea.
- Against Penhaligon's Sartorial and Amouage Bracken Man, it sits as a subtler, more British-reserved green-aromatic neighbor.
## Reception
Among enthusiasts, reception is strongly positive, with 1962 repeatedly called the best modern Floris and its discontinuation widely lamented. The critic Varanis Ridari rates it a thumbs-up while supplying the contrarian framing: it became a vintage-revival cult favorite largely because it resembles obsessed-over 1970s masculines, and the idea that it was discontinued for being too good is a myth, since the entire Fragrance Journals line was cut at once. Opinion splits on three axes: performance, whether it justifies its secondary-market price, and the divisive camphor-mint-clove opening. For lovers of green-aromatic, cypress and vintage-style masculines it is enthusiastically recommended, but because it is discontinued, buying now means paying a premium, so sampling first is wise.
## Versions & Reformulation
This is a single composition with no known reformulations. The line existed only from its 2016 launch until its discontinuation, and it was never reformulated, simply deleted along with the rest of The Fragrance Journals.
## Acquisition Notes
The fragrance is discontinued. The often-quoted benchmark is its original price of about $190 for 100 ml (a UK RRP around 140 pounds). It launched into the Floris Private Collection on September 1st, 2016, sold mainly through Floris's own Jermyn Street and Harrods channels and its website, which limited distribution and contributed to its scarcity. On the secondary market it now trades at a premium, from around 95 pounds for a partial bottle up to $300 and more for full bottles, mostly through resale marketplaces. Floris sold spray samples directly, a useful way to verify before committing. No widespread counterfeit problem is reported, largely due to obscurity, and the 100 ml EdP was the standard size.
## Notable Facts & Lore
- It was part of "The Fragrance Journals," three EdPs each named for a London year or era: 1962, 1976 and 1988.
- The line was introduced by Floris director Edward Bodenham and launched on September 1st, 2016, with sleeve artwork by photo-illustrator Darren Hopes.
- The marketing framed 1962 around 1960s Soho's coffee bars and rock clubs, "an era of love, modernism and evolution."
- The enthusiast joke that became lore is that, despite the 1962 label, it smells like roughly 1978.
- House lore notes that Floris, founded in 1730, made No. 89, reputedly an Ian Fleming favorite, which reviewers like to attach to 1962's gentlemanly framing.