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.
