That Man
Revlon (1958)

That Man became My Fragrance The minute I applied it. It's just an old-fashioned unapologetically masculine that has decent wear time about 5 or 6 hours. I like the simple square bottle. I like the moniker which tells a quite humorous story as well. I wouldn't be caught dead wearing anything with a Revlon tag attached to it because to me it speaks femininity but this fragrance launched in 1958 is a winner and it is anything but feminine. The sad part is that it is long discontinued and there is no way on God's green earth this fragrance could be made the same way it was back then. However, as long as vintage bottles are for sale. Yours truly will dig as deep as I need to to continue to obtain this wonderful scent.

9/10

Revlon That Man (1958, reintroduced in the 1980s, discontinued).

Maybe I am THAT MAN (take that as you will). Maybe I am the one that insists on singing when I don't always have great pitch. Maybe I am not the perfect weight and I no longer have the six pack I had when I was 32 (did it really matter that I did anyways?). Maybe I am just a little too obsessed with fragrance and need to dedicate time to other hobbies.

Maybe it's Maybelline. Or rather, Revlon.

That Man was originally released in 1958 to the delight of the proper bachelor, looking to impress and undress. What an awful decade it was, but that is another story for another time. This fab fougere, however, is one of the finer products of the time, at least as it was reintroduced in the 80s, perhaps at the time slightly amping up the clove and geranium to put it more in line with the power-fougeres of the time period.

That Man trades lavender for petitgrain to accompany bergamot and lemon to create this sharp, bracing opening that soon surrenders to the spice. The base is more cedar than musk, perhaps a somewhat musky cedar. A cedar that's been with a few too many trollops but has good hygiene. The cedar is THAT MAN, apparently. The coumarin and oakmoss is what gives this a classic fougere drydown. It doesn't wear out its welcome and really just hangs out by the water fountain shooting the breeze over a cuppa.

I think I am just in love with any fragrance that has geranium and cloves together. For that alone, I am sold on THAT MAN. I am willing to sign contracts with him, make him the godfather of my first born, and maybe start a small business with him. Does he go to the gym? I need to lose a few and hit the weights again. THAT MAN, will you be my gym buddy? Wink wink.

Very satisfying chypre, I actually enjoy this more than Chanel Pour Monsieur vintage. Isn't as complex, but more enjoyable.

Well worth the price of admission.

8/10

The story behind That Man by Revlon (1958) is rather well-documented, and serves as a good backdrop alongside the cultural movements of the 1950's to describe why this scent both looks and smells the way it does. For starters, western men in allied countries during the immediate decades following the end of World War II would be kings of the industrialized world, with unprecendented opportunity to educate themselves, earn a comforable upper middle-class living, and quite literally dictate the state of culture and fashion. What we now see a largly patriarchal and austere from a cultural perspective was pretty much normal then, with very strict prescriptions on proper dress and even smell. Before we get to more on that, a bit about how this stuff became known as "That Man": So during the 50's, Revlon was among the big 3 beauty brands in the US, which is hard to imagine now because it is such a downmarket drugstore institution like Coty or Cover Girl that the idea of it being prestigious in any way seems ludicrous. For a time however, Charles Revson was on top of the world and was tied in a three-way battle royal with Estée Lauder (backed by her financier husband Joseph Harold Lauder), and Elizabeth Arden. Now Lauder more or less kept her mouth shut, but Arden was particularly contemptuous towards Revson, calling him "that man" instead of referring to him by name, since he was the only major male player in the war of costmetics empires. Revson got wind of this, and he threw it back in Arden's face by naming his first men's toiletries and fragrance line after the quip. Considering Arden had also launched a full line of men's toiletries in 1956 through 1957, this was an even bigger slap in the face, as she was reminded of her words every time she saw the product competing for the same market as hers.

Dandy culture had evolved into mainstream culture, so short hair and clean square-jaw faces in neatly-tailored suit lines was the standard, while smells had to follow one of a few inflexible paths including traditional barbershop/wet shaving tropes, or strictly non-floral, non-spicy, non-sweet aromatic citrus chypres that were basically anti-perfume. Most of these evolved from things made at the turn of the 20th century, and That Man followed lines of trajectory originating with things like Moustache by Rochas (1949), favoring sour musks and sharp woods over tart, bracing citruses and muted florals. The opening of That Man is going to very much remind those who know Moustache of its telltale top notes, but more so the concentrated eau de toilette version than the more modest eau de cologne. Bergamot, lemon, and petitgrain form the sour/bitter citrus start, with a bit of urinous civet musk already letting you know where this is going. Now guys in the US were not as fond of the "pole cat" musks as guys in Europe, so the civet eventually fades into the background so geranium and carnation can take the fore. Carnation notes were a staple floral for men during this period, and it basically stems from the same chemical as clove notes listed in perfume (eugenol), so some places list this note as clove instead. The base is that musk, alongside cedar, sandalwood, labdanum, tonka (listed as "tabac" by Revlon), and oakmoss, Ultimately, this is a a "forthright masculine" accord as the box flap on original 1958 specimens claim, with zero softness to it at all. Wear time goes over 6 hours and sillage is there but not loud; more on that in a bit. If you daily-drive That Man, you'll find it to be equally suitable in most weather conditions and social events, as it was made like all men's fragrances then to be a signature scent.

This kind of versatility-focused balancing would only return to men's fragrances with the advent of modern post-aquatic woody-amber blue juices, meant to be a one-size-fits-all that works anywhere and any time. Here with That Man, this applies only if you're okay with smelling completely humorless and unapprochable, as the fashion of the day dictated. Serious to a fault were men's conformist sartorial styles of the period, seemingly almost in direct contrast to all the pastel colored cowboy shirts, bowling shirts, and Hawaiian shirts worn on weekends, but That Man definitely was made to fit into the former and not the latter. The fragrance even reassures the would-be purchaser in the pamphlet that it is not overstated, another move in line with masculine austerity of the period as guys did not want huge scent trails, because to have one would be to come across "perfumey" and thus feminine (oh no). I love this period in men's fragrance for being so vastly different from anything we have now, but I do admit that deliberately chasing conformity for its own sake (rather than just chasing successful formulae like today's men's offerings) can get boring just like modern "blue" juices can. Still, the overt levels of masculinity combined with a level of materials quality you can't find anymore without paying a fortune is noteworthy, and people will turn their heads to ask about That Man. Unfortunately, the reliance on real sandalwood and cedarwod oils, bergamot oil, and oakmoss would make this completely untenable to relaunch nowadays, even if the style somehow miraculously returned, and That Man was spared the indignity of being reformulated into oblivion by being discontinued long before those materials even became taboo. Thumbs up.

A masculine classic from 1958, similar in spirit to ultra-rare Woodhue For Men. No kidding, it also reminds me of vintage, pricey Patou Pour Homme. Still can't figure out why this isn't a massive BN favorite, especially at current affordable prices. Warm, woody, ambery, a nice shot of oak moss. It's from a long lost time and place when men could go into a drugstore, spend less than $10, and come out with a very nice, high quality scent. Old Spice is the only remaining scent in that price/value range. If you love vintage fragrances, especially men's classics from the '50s-'60s, That Man is a must buy.

This starts off with a gently refreshing lemon-bergamot note with a bit of petitgrain, that later on passes through some mild floral notions. The drydown commences after the first fifteen minutes and is characterised by wood and moss, making this a traditional barbershop fougère. Some musk hints are in the base, but they remain in the background, is never cloying, and the initial touch of gentle freshness never completely disappears. Although a very traditional barbershop scent, it lacks any real soapiness on my skin.

This is a very discrete and versatile nice fragrance. Projection and silage are ok, and the longevity is very respectable at over five hours.