Pour Monsieur

What is it most men want? Power? Prosperity? Pussy?

Perhaps, perhaps not. I do know that as a representative of the male of the species myself, my wants are neatly arranged on a line beginning with the premise: first, don't stink. At the other end of that line may come the triple-P above.

First, don't stink—of course I mean that metaphorically but I also mean it literally. Don't stink. Smell nice, man. I believe the literal leads to the metaphorical. If a man is confident in himself, a large part of that confidence comes from the secure knowledge that he isn't sending stink bombs every time he raises his arms.

Yesterday, I rediscovered one more weapon in that fight against stink: Chanel's 1955(!) masterpiece, Pour Monsieur. A spray or two of this and something clicks in that reptilian brain. Power suffuses the wearer in a process not unlike Jim Carey's character in The Mask. That's right, those top notes of citrus (neroli, lemon, petitgrain), while trite in many other so-called men's colognes do a remarkable job here.

It is at once refreshing and understated, which is a very difficult combination. Finally, we men can attain that fleeting condition of being bold yet light that our women want and as it doesn't require anything more strenuous than flexing a finger joint to push the pump spray on Pour Monsieur, I say even better.

Give the scent a few more minutes and things just keep getting better, folks! That playful lightness gives way with a pirouette to the slow burn of the middle and base notes. This is a revelation of the perfumer's art. Someone said it was a velvet kiss on the neck of a French courtesan; well it's that and much more. It's utterly sophisticated with a side order of danger, a true masterpiece.

Update: The picture is of Pour Monsieur Concentree. This is not what you want, it's a completely different perfume.