Caron Pour Un Homme (1934)
by Caron

"Lavender" and "barbershop" are both descriptors that I get excited about, so I was eager to try this. I ended up liking it, and use it somewhat regularly, but it takes familiarity to fully appreciate its qualities, especially if most of your fragrance perspective comes from more recent offerings.

There were two initial obstacles to get around. The first is an accord that to my nose is almost identical to the smell of Hasbro's Play-Doh. This is strongest at initial application, then fades, remerging only faintly and occasionally thereafter. The second hangup has to do with the complete lack of sweetness in the vanilla. I think of le male as a "barbershop" fragrance, so I thought the lavender-vanilla combo on offer here might bear a distant resemblance. Hardly. The vanilla here is only edible in the way a raw, freshly-harvested pod of V. planifolia would be edible. It wouldn't kill you, but ingestion isn't highly recommended.

That said, once you get past any negative conditioning you may carry, the simple virtues that Pour un Homme's name suggests become apparent. It connotes clean and fresh without being aquatic or soapy, it is neither formal nor casual, and it is inoffensive even when slightly over-applied. If you don't like lavender (why would anyone dislike lavender?), avoid it. But I don't, so I won't.

14th January, 2012.

Pour un homme de Caron is my old faithful. I always keep some nearby. To me, this is a perfect masculine fragrance. Simple and unpretentious enough for everyday use yet elegant and refined enough for a black tie event. PUH has some top notes that can be a little blunt and rubbery at first but as soon as the dry-down starts, the rich vanilla base takes over keeping just a hint of dry lavender. It is kind of powdery, of course, but it is not "candy sweet" like some other ambery fragrances. Of course, although I love Pour un homme passionately, I can understand that some people may find it outdated and suitable for very old men. It's ok. I am not getting any younger!

31st October, 2011.

I'm approaching this again with some trepidation, me not being a fan of lavender or powdery notes, and merely tolerating vanilla. Fortunately the opening lavender is already toned down enough (with powder!?) to not bother me with that sweatiness that it sometimes has, though it gets slightly worse before it gets better. However they've done it, what would normally come across as stinky armpit BO for me, becomes this strange, hollow, crisp planty aura, like a clear distillate of Christmas wreaths mixed with the sharp herbs of Yatagan. Until this point, the powder had faded away and was only detectable if I wiped the residue from the tip of my nose after sniffing. Finally, during the last gasps of the lavender, the powder is back with more vanilla. All that remains after a while is a clean, powdery vanilla, which could be perfectly unisex. It's quite surprisingly light and airy, considering how many times I feel like I've been choked to death by vanilla or powder.

One reviewer (MHV) noted below that CPUH is not a fragrance so much as a scent, which just "is", from the familiar scene of a man dilligently going about his routine, shaving and showering before work. In that role, I find this stuff much more believable than Rive Gauche, probably because it's not an exact replica of one product's scent (i.e. Barbasol coypcat). I agree that it's very conservative, but as is sometimes the case, it's so conservative, and from such a different time, that it's almost anachronistic. While I'm not a fan of all the latest releases, this follows norms that are just so different from what we'd expect today, that I'm not sure I'd find it very practical over the long term. I should have used it many, many more times before writing this. It might make a really classy room spray though, and since they've done such a good job of making a fragrance that I sort of like out of notes that I normally don't, I'll give it a thumbs up.

10th October, 2011.

We all have read about taste memory and the madeleines of Proust, or the ratatouille of Anton Ego, food critic, in the film Ratatouille. Of course, taste and smell are two senses inextricably entwined, physically, as well as psychologically. No small wonder that parfumiers blend complex molecules to recreate the delicious odours of bread or chocolate. Well this fragrance had a memory moment for me that was long forgotten, and deeply hidden.
My first haircut at a traditional barbershop: age 4. Traumatic? Overwhelming? Emotionally charged? All three, and as such, fertile ground for indelible memory. The clipping, snipping, and shearing of my golden locks caused copious tears and wailing upset. Nearby, father was beaming as his regular coiffeur changed ragmop son into miniature gentleman. At the end, as sweet talc and soft brush eased the pain, and dampened comb smoothed and lightly scented the hair, the grand finale was a misting with the fragrance.
It may or may not have been Caron, but while I was misting my sons' sweaters with Pour un Homme yesterday, suddenly time crumbled, and I was back in that barber chair reliving the moment that I first fell in love with that delightful, splendid lavender.

12nd September, 2011.

This fragrance pretty much comes out smelling like Christmas candles and "holiday spice" on me. It's really nice and I like it but I don't think I would actually buy a bottle of this and wear it. It gives me too many cravings to eat sweet desserts. However, I agree that it is fairly unisex and could be a nice fragrance for either a man or a woman to wear. It probably should have been given a different name.

11th September, 2011.

This stuff is beautiful; pure, simple, bright lavender with a gentle, oriental, musky-vanilla base. Sounds simple? Well, it is and it isn't. If you like frags you have to try this.

It may well be that I'll give up worrying about fragrances beyond this stuff. This might just do me. It's that good.

5th August, 2011.