Jean-Paul Gaultier Le Mâle Aviator (2020) really should have been named "Office Mâle", because it smells like someone tried taking the DNA of the original Le Mâle (1995) and twisted it up with a bit of Carolina Herrera CH Men (2009) mixed in for that middle-of-the-road office juice feeling. This isn't inherently bad of course, as many Le Mâle flankers like Ultra Mâle (2015), Le Beau (2019), and Le Mâle Le Parfum (2020) have gone down this ultra-sweet almost boyishly playful direction in varying degrees of intensity, which may actually appeal more to the Grindr app gay culture of 2020 than the gay discotheque scene of the 90's that embraced the original. In any case, Le Mâle Aviator is the one that works while the others play, the mature gay man who's hung up his crop tops and cut-off shorts and moved into his cardigan and MacBook phase, artisanal espresso in hand. He uses Tinder instead of Grindr and believes in the art of conversation, but still wants to remember the days he sweated until 3am to house mixes of London Beat or The Real McCoy, so he keeps a bottle of the original Le Mâle but uses this one when he has to go into the office because he can't accomplish his task in a Zoom call. Even if this isn't you, Le Mâle Aviator may work for you in the same way.
The opening is going to be the teltale lavender and mint of Le Mâle, but with a sharp green violet leaf smoothed over by some citrus sweetness. The violet never completely goes awaym but it does recede behind a wall of fuzzy cashmeran and geranium that make up the heart. From here, comparisons to CH Men are strongest, but Le Mâle Aviator does its own thing on virtue of that lavender and mint tandem that CH Men does not have, then makes the scent all about the creaminess of amber, vanilla, and some kind of synthetic stab at sandalwood which reminds me of what they use in most sandalwood-themed shaving products (maybe Javanol), padded out with tonka. The effect is a dapper and sedate Le Mâle experience with prickly green violet leaf floating about in the moderate sweetness, woodiness, and musky tonka trail you'd expect Le Mâle to have. The freshness never fully leaves, but neither does the callbacks to the flirtatious borderline tacky nature of the original, as if it's trying to be an office executive giving you inappropriate bedroom eyes from over his glasses. People get fired for that sort of thing now, you know. Wear time is average for a Le Mâle scent, so above average compared other designers, but sillage is just okay, making a nice personal bubble you don't have to share if you don't want.
I'm not a huge fan of these sort of amalgamated mishmash woody/musky/tonka sort of perfumes that remind me too much of the late 2000's, although I enjoy this. For me, Calvin Klein Man (2007) is the epitome of this kind of thing, even though CH Men is more popular and gets copied more (even by the house of Carolina Herrera itself), but if I was in the market for the Le Mâle take on this style, I'd be at home with Le Mâle Aviator. Unfortunately, like most Le Mâle flankers actually worth a damn, this is limited edition, so you better hurry up and get your nose on it if you're catching this review near the date of release, and stock up if you like it. Otherwise, you'll be crying the blues like people clawing each other for overpriced bottles of the discontinued Fleur du Mâle (2007), the only other flanker to try something in the Le Mâle line that didn't directly belong in a night club. To be fair Fleur du Mâle was a dry run for a style Francis Kurkdjian would later perfect at his own house, while this flanker made by an unknown perfumer just does a bit of DNA mixing, so I doubt this will ever reach unicorn status, but better be safe than sorry if the idea of "Office Mâle" sounds appealing to you. One of the least exciting, but also most satisfying Le Mâle releases in years. Thumbs up.