Did anyone else notice the testicular appearance of this image on Dior’s website?

I was curious about Dior Sauvage. That travesty of an ad campaign featuring Johnny Depp, with the perfumistas crying that Dior was losing touch – how could I resist?

When I was offered the choice from a smattering of trial sizes while shopping at Nordstrom’s online, I thought “why the hell not?”

. . .

If you spent the 90s awash in the overpowering wake of Ralph Lauren Polo for Men, Dior Homme Sauvage will be no stranger to you.

For this niche snob, it is a fairly boring scent, but I also found it to be oddly comforting. Most likely this was a function stemming from its familiarity.

Sauvage’s scent profile draws on an amalgamation of scents: anyone who has borrowed her boyfriend’s Edge Shaving Gel will detect a whiff of that, as well as a general “manly scent combo” of aftershave, Old Spice Deodorant, and a burly just-out-of-the-shower feeling.

Upon first spray, I saw in my mind’s eye a strapping male attired in lumberjack gear, clean-cut, a bright white and green plaid shirt comfortable upon his skin. Leather suspenders. Then I felt the presence of the sort of grandfather I never had: aftershave, wood shavings from the shop, a clean whiff of the idea of manliness.

The notes I detected included a little lemon and bergamot on top.
There was a bit of woodsiness given body by the idea of wood shavings: cedar, perhaps.
Mostly just that damned 90’s clueless male smell wafting around me like a cat who won’t be shooed away.

The sillage is mild to medium, not overpowering after a few minutes and the drydown is achieved. The drydown is pretty much a forgone conclusion, and is no surprise after the top notes quickly fade. Sauvage was a quiet stream of noise after a few hours, the television left on at 2AM and the colorblock filling the screen. Annoying, familiar, needing to be turned off.

As a woman who likes strange scents, this is not a scent I would wear.
I will happily defy the ideas of gender-appropriate when I find a “male” fragrance that I love, but this is not that. This is just: dude spray.

Quite frankly, I cannot fucking imagine Johnny Depp being so pedestrian as to wear this, but hey – dreams are shattered daily. Maybe he does wear this “man smell.” I simply can’t imagine wanting to rip his pants off with him wearing it. Maybe snuggle into him, grandpa-style.

When my boyfriend came home after work and asked what I had done that day, I told him I smelled a gross perfume. I did not offer to let him smell it. It was so unworthy that I didn’t want to bother him.

The cute bit is that after being enjoined to “Sniff!” for many months, my boyfriend asked, then sort of commanded me to let him smell this one. He shared my reaction to Sauvage: “Smells like high school!”

Verdict: Boring. Safe. Comfortable. Predictable.

Would I purchase it: Hell no. I would never want this smell on someone I already deem sexy. This would unsexify them instantly: being reminded of high school boys and clueless men who don’t know any better is just not sexy to me.

I do wonder what the hell the fragrance team was thinking about with this one. No one needs any more Polo. No. One. Every time I smell that damned fragrance I just grimace.
So, it will probably sell ok, because I’m at an age where nostalgia starts creeping in, and there is a whole nuther generation of high school boys waiting for their own hero’s journey to start… Sauvage-style.

. . .

Having savaged Sauvage… my sample is up for grabs! Leave a comment if you would like it, and make sure I can get in contact with you.

*Image from Dior.