Item Description
Le Male is, to me, the 1990's as defined by a scent. Mediocre, saccharine, artificial, superficial.
The notes are mint, lavender, cumin, blah, blah, blah . . .
Really, with this one, the notes aren't relevant. There's nothing in Le Male that smells natural, beyond some aspects of the mint and vanilla in the base. I get an atypical explosion of sharp sweetness, haloed in a dusty, slightly floral glow, with a very rich vanilla/tonka drydown. Despite how good that may sound, my overall opinion of Le Male is that, in a phrase, its day has passed.
With the exception of the classy and composed Allure Homme by Chanel, I don't see any real reason to revisit the overly-sweet and downright cloying world of '90s preppy designer frags, and Le Male is at the top of my "Now Expired" list. I'll concede that the first impression this made on me back in 1996 or '97 was quite stark; I did feel it was a bit exotic and very unique. It's one of the strongest colognes ever made, and will easily last you 10 hours, maybe more. I've never been one who believed in the whole "one spray-ahead and walk-through" method of applying cologne, but with Le Male I make an exception. Any other way of applying this is insane.
As a design major, I have to praise the packaging, tacky as it is. The sculptural nature of the bottle and the soup can are embarrassingly different. But the $75 price tag makes this fragrance a one-time buy. Besides, if you find you like the cloying vanilla sweetness, you can get Perry Ellis 360 White for less than half the price. It's an unabashed knock-off with a nearly-identical mid-basenote range. The fact that Ellis is able to mimic Gaultier so well doesn't say much for the originality of either frag's construction. But then again, imitation is the surest form of flattery.
If you haven't already tried this, skip it. If you have tried it, and are sort of curious about reliving the Le Male experience - skip that, too.
The notes are mint, lavender, cumin, blah, blah, blah . . .
Really, with this one, the notes aren't relevant. There's nothing in Le Male that smells natural, beyond some aspects of the mint and vanilla in the base. I get an atypical explosion of sharp sweetness, haloed in a dusty, slightly floral glow, with a very rich vanilla/tonka drydown. Despite how good that may sound, my overall opinion of Le Male is that, in a phrase, its day has passed.
With the exception of the classy and composed Allure Homme by Chanel, I don't see any real reason to revisit the overly-sweet and downright cloying world of '90s preppy designer frags, and Le Male is at the top of my "Now Expired" list. I'll concede that the first impression this made on me back in 1996 or '97 was quite stark; I did feel it was a bit exotic and very unique. It's one of the strongest colognes ever made, and will easily last you 10 hours, maybe more. I've never been one who believed in the whole "one spray-ahead and walk-through" method of applying cologne, but with Le Male I make an exception. Any other way of applying this is insane.
As a design major, I have to praise the packaging, tacky as it is. The sculptural nature of the bottle and the soup can are embarrassingly different. But the $75 price tag makes this fragrance a one-time buy. Besides, if you find you like the cloying vanilla sweetness, you can get Perry Ellis 360 White for less than half the price. It's an unabashed knock-off with a nearly-identical mid-basenote range. The fact that Ellis is able to mimic Gaultier so well doesn't say much for the originality of either frag's construction. But then again, imitation is the surest form of flattery.
If you haven't already tried this, skip it. If you have tried it, and are sort of curious about reliving the Le Male experience - skip that, too.
