Le Mâle Jean Paul Gaultier 1995 Eau de Toilette

My third comment is therefore going to be a matter of the heart.
Everyone knows what Jean Paul Gaultier's definition of masculinity smells like, so I won’t try to break down the pyramid in my amateurish way.
No. My heart bleeds after reading the comments here, many of which say you can smell the “penetrating petrochemicals” (Ashton) of the “asshole brother” with the beautiful sister (Dutchi) mainly in the “village disco” (MartinGE).
So. You can argue about tastes. However, as can be seen very nicely here: It leads to nothing.
Some hate it, others love it. Some, on the other hand, have a kind of love-hate relationship.
I belong to the latter group.
What I hate about the scent:
The wearers who think there is no tomorrow and therefore must empty their full bottle today - the one with a capacity of 200ml.
The wearers who wear the scent in the hope of dropping some panties, regardless of whether it suits them or not.
What I love about the scent:
It!
The cinnamon note that accompanies me with it all day long. Its development, just everything!
(My comment refers to the 2016 version, which won’t run out quickly since I use it sparingly and additionally have a dupe at home.)

The first time I must have encountered it was as a child, because when I smelled it on a man around 25 a few years ago and was blown away, I also had to think of a somewhat older relative.
Well. I smelled this perfume on a man, bald, with a well-groomed short beard, strong, broad-shouldered, with freckles and blue-gray eyes.
He, the man, would have never caught my attention if I hadn’t noticed this scent in the crowd.
I came very close to him, accidentally bumped into him or was pushed in his direction. Nevertheless, the man remained very polite, gesturing with a hand movement that my stammered apology was actually unnecessary. This man, who smelled so unashamedly good, did not have a distinctly masculine or rough voice; he looked like he was over thirty at just twenty-five, but his voice still sounds (yes: we are still friends today) as if you were facing a boy.
The contrast is for me what also characterizes the perfume that the man wore: “Le Mâle” is strong - spicy - and soft - gentle and creamy - at the same time, sweet, but also fresh; it is different from a not to be underestimated part of its wearers, not flashy, even though it has a very high self-confidence.
“I am ready, for it is time for our pact over eternity.” (Falco - no, not a Parfumo user, THE Falco, for me just as much a genius as the one to whom “Le Mâle” is owed)
For me, a life without “Le Mâle” is possible, but not desirable. I do not want to be without it, and I will not let anyone ruin my joy in it.

I love the sailor, not necessarily how he looks (there we are again with the flashy), and I would never have bought or even tested it if I had been made aware of it through advertising, but I love, appreciate, and adore it - so much that I not only use it at home as a pillow and room scent, but also wear it myself, much to the delight of my friends. In doing so, I use one, at most two sprays. That’s enough to get me through the day.
The sailor may stand for masculinity, but in times of emancipation and blurred gender boundaries, I take the liberty of claiming this treasure for myself.