Pour Lui Oscar de la Renta

Pour Lui arrives with the kind of architectural precision that defined masculine fragrance in 1980—a composition that feels like it's been drawn with a draughtsman's ruler rather than a perfumer's whimsy. The opening salvo of aldehydes and juniper berry creates something almost peppery, sharp enough to cut through a room, whilst the sage and aniseed introduce an unexpected culinary quality that prevents the fragrance from becoming a straightforward barbershop affair. There's a distinctly green mineral edge courtesy of the galbanum, like crushed herbs underfoot, which plays beautifully against the sweeter bergamot.

What makes Pour Lui compelling is the spice-leather dialogue at its core. The carnation and geranium in the heart provide a slightly peppery florality—not soft, never cloying—that serves as a bridge between the aromatic top and the woody-leather depths below. The cinnamon doesn't read as dessert-like; instead, it sharpens the geranium's edges and works in concert with the patchouli to create something almost medicinal, vaguely tobacco-like.