Tous Man Sport
Tous (2010)

Polymer-wrapped toilet-lemon and “red apple,” like a mildly radioactive verdigris encrusting a photorealistic Windex (1933) accord, with thin gym bag musk from cashmeran purchased on Amazon or at Home Depot, or got in barter with an itinerant peddler in turn-of-the-20th-century Appalachia, a gnomic tinker come upon a still-living infant abandoned to its open grave in a dark wood needing a wet nurse. This is Tous Man Sport by Tous.

Other exemplary travesties in the window cleaner “freshies” genre are: Man Eau Fraiche by Versace (2006), Blue by Kenneth Cole (2015), Chrome Sport by Azzaro (2010), Subtil Pour Homme Fresh by Salvatore Ferragamo (2021), and Elysium Pour Homme Parfum Cologne by Roja Dove (2017). They are all inexcusable, cynical afterthoughts, and they totally stink, pee-yew. But when the heart of what you are attempting to signify—your “story”—is maximal cleanliness of the you-can-smell-like-a-sink-nozzle-at-a-private-health-club stripe, these are the heights you can reach. More bucolically, maybe this genre nods to the cellophane-wrapper-just-extruded-and-sniffed-at-the-border-of-a-country-you-have-heard-has-a-lemon-grove-somewhere-in-it-from-the-cockpit-of-a-brand-new-Zamboni curious.

I appreciate the humorless modifier “fresh” that comes with so many in this genre. We must recall Welles’s existential exasperation at the state of marketing as such: “You don’t know what I’m up against. Because it’s full of, of, of things that are only correct because they’re grammatical.” Fresh indeed. There are limits to the degraded apotheosis of such a world-weary aesthetic.

The olfactory empyrean in this genre is nothing short of stainless steel disinfected with ammoniac solution. If this intrigues not only your bug-spattered windows, but you also, you can get stuff like this for $20 or so (or, egregiously, criminally, in Roja Dove’s case, $200). Tous Man Sport does nothing more nor less than the above. It’s nice in that way and harmless. I gave it to my 13-year-old nephew, and he later reported he doesn’t wear it.

I own the Ferragamo mentioned above, and it smells pretty good on paper, like the type of concrete counter cleaner I would choose if I didn’t just use Bar Keepers Friend (1882) and water. I also own the shameful Roja listed above and really love it, though I agree with most critics: I should be sentenced without commutation. Four years at a katorga camp is not enough in my case, and in the cases of any—bless their derelict souls—like me.

This is basically a more modern CK One, or perhaps just a more fruity Azzaro Chrome. The dry down is a little creamy, and quite enjoyable. The performance is pretty bad, even worse than CK One, which is already bad. You're better off sticking with Chrome or One.

I feel this juice just does not last long and has low projection.
That alone might keep you from purchasing.

It's a nice lemony scent though. At first application scents like Versace's Eau Fraiche and Azzaro's Chrome come to mind but this does not have the "screechiness" of Versace's lemon or synthetic-ness of Chrome's aldehydes.

I think the apple smoothens it out. A bit more believable notes than the aforementioned fragrances.