To say I was taken with it is an understatment. I've never been a big fan of cologne. Gay though I may be, I went to college with a bunch of West Texas fratboys, so Axe body spray was forever wafting from my house in clouds sufficient to do proud any whorehouse.
But the Versace was different. I was hesitant at first. Bravo stereotypes aside, I wasn't comfortable with designers of any note. If it hadn't been tested in the halls of my suburban Texas high school I certainly wasn't going to try to pull it off. So much of my getting laid depended on the impertinent straight boy image I fostered. If there eyes weren't tingling from the body spray, they might see past my popped collar to the scared gay man beneath.
But the Versace won me on all fronts. It's full bodied but subtle. A spicy but clean smell. Manly in a way that grabbed you up close but didn't overpower from afar. That is, even tonight as I write this, four hours after stripping out of my work clothes and 14 hours after I put it on, I can still smell it on my work shirt. Again, not overpowering, but a comforting almost powdered smell.
This is good stuff. It easily lends itself to a confident manner. And I won't lay it all at the Perfumer's feet but there's been a dramatic uptick in coworkers who try to set me up with their single female friends. I prefer to blame the air of maturation that no longer needing to bathe in Axe imparts, but oh if only they knew.