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Not so long ago Drakkar Noir represented an inexpensive portal back to a 1970s locker room. Clean, fresh and unfeasibly potent, it remains the weapons-grade grooming tool of choice for those intent on sillage warfare. Although it is by no means unbearable in micro-doses, this beergutted ex-jock in stone-washed jeans is probably not going to make the sort of entrance that anyone would want to make. Beyond assuaging the twin itches of curiosity and nostalgia, Drakkar seems rather unnecessary.
26 October, 2012