Chimo

I don't know of any scent more inaccessible than this. When you wear it, it feels like you have a washed concrete wall around you. I don't mean the concrete of pedestrian underpasses, but the grey aesthetics of the stylish walls in advertising agencies or investment firms. Logically, there are days when that's just right. Sometimes you need a heart of stone.

The fragrance begins with an abstract lavender. It is a somewhat striking image of lavender projected into the room with strong colours. Sometimes the prelude reminds me of the chlorine smell of a swimming pool. It thus has a disinfected purity that is functional. Tom Ford's scents often have something striking about them. Where the stupid Europeans are still hanging on to an olfactory idealism, here, as with Andy Warhol, the colorful silkscreen is thrown on. You can see everything at first glance.

Masculin Pluriel makes the superficiality that is characteristic of such craftsmanship perfect. And frankly, there's no real scent trail. You can still smell a little vetiver and a hint of leather. But this strange construct, called "Provencal lavender absolute" in the fragrance pyramid, remains dominant. I bet my leftover bottle that not a single atom in this scent has ever seen French soil. It's a fantasy from the lab.

And it may be. There are days when that's perfectly all right. If you want to go around the world like Bret Easton Ellis or Jordan Belfort - here you go. One is then a bit cynical, has lost contact with the world or simply wants to be left in the shouts. You are a man with a sharply ironed shirt, and it might be a good idea to make a pile of money. But you don't have to wonder if there's no closeness. Masculin pluriel keeps the distance to things.