Gasoleather

This is an odd fragrance for me, or rather it's odd as to why I am mutually attracted to and repulsed by this fragrance. I'm old enough to have worn enough fragrances to know when one isn’t just a scent, but a memory trap. Gasoleather isn’t trying to be pretty, and thank God for that. It’s unapologetically masculine in that opening raw, oily, and smoky note; but somehow still tender in its own way. Like a man who works with his hands but listens closely when you speak - think any character portrayed by Nick Offerman.

There’s a note in it like burnt rubber, leather left out in the Mojave desert sun, maybe even a whisper of something sweet and animalic underneath that reminds me of the first time I snuck into a leather bar in the late '90s. I was terrified, thrilled, and surrounded by the smell of sweat, gear, and possibility. Gasoleather smells like that for me. It's dangerous, familiar, and strangely comforting. Paradoxically it's lingering, cloying, and repulsive.

It's defiant, nostalgic, and sexy in a greasy working-man way. Not trying to prove anything. It's just present while being unpresentable. Just real while being surreal. It doesn’t flirt. It lingers and stays.

I mean, I can't really say much more than what the name implies. It smells less like gasoline to me and more like half melted plastic and smoke. Not unpleasant imo, but not something I'd subject people to on a casual basis. It does dry down into something I can only label as 'masculine', but I'm sure a more refined palate would be able to give more detail on.