I’ve never understood the point of ‘sport’ cologne. Why a discrete scent pour les sportifs? A different smell for the swole? Whether you’re in a stadium or the local gym, there will doubtless be moisture-wicking Ts and breathable gussets involved, as well as leggings improbably built from bamboo and trainers fashioned out of islands of ocean plastic.
Despite this World’s Fair cornucopia of hi-tech threads, I’m not disputing the psychological boost you get from ‘Eye of the Tiger’-ing your ass like some Rocky training sequence while wearing a motivational fragrance. But why do these fragrances always have to smell like disappointed lemon drops? Because for a certain sort of fellow, ‘lemon’ means ‘fresh’, and ‘fresh’ pairs well with ‘going for the burn’. Well, fellas, you can merrily clap your bamboo-clad butt cheeks together for Dior, because the venerable fashion house succeeds in elevating the lowly lemon to perfume’s version of MVP in Dior Homme Sport.
Always a mighty cut above basic corporate colognes that reek of airplane hand wipes, Dior’s previous iterations of Homme Sport have deftly shuffled lemon with ginger or powder or fruit. The wild card in this latest version is incense, specifically the resinous strata of cold frankincense and piney elemi. These chilly woods underscore bergamot, the bitter orange that gives Earl Grey tea its personality. The whole thing sings out on an updraft of crisp, frosty aldehydes made even more radiant by rays of sunny lemon. So fresh, your gusset will forget to breathe.
