This blog isn't really all-inclusive of both eau de toilettes and aftershaves. Clubman is a fine exception because it doubles as a cologne. Actually as a perfume. The damn stuff is so strong. But as a piece of Americana and pure liquid nostalgia, it damn well better smell strong. If an early 20th Century American aftershave is going to survive into the 21st Century, its scent needs to embody the boldness and universality of its time.
A quick history lesson: Ed. Pinaud founded the American branch of his high-end perfume company in 1920. From 1933 until the later half of the century, the Ed. Pinaud building on 5th Avenue in New York City was renamed Klotz Family Business Co. by Victor Klotz, Pinaud's son-in-law. A French supplier had been grumbling about its association with an American toiletry company, and Klotz responded by re-branding his line. It was circa 1940 when Clubman was first exclusively distributed to barbers for use in their shops.
Using very little advertising and a word-of-mouth driven campaign, the Klotz Family Business brought Clubman to every country club, barbershop, and bathroom in the country. Klotz's strategy of reaching the American everyman paid off, and the transition from fancy perfumes to barbershop lotions was a success. Still, the product was never marketed as widely as Aqua Velva, Old Spice, or Skin Bracer. Clubman was always the commercially-aloof, in-the-know professional's choice.
Today, Clubman is found in Walgreens and Rite Aids for a few bucks a bottle. I've been using the scent for a couple of years as an aftershave, carefully. Many wetshavers choose to cut their alcohol-based aftershaves with water or witch hazel; I prefer to use Clubman straight, and usually consider it my SOTD due to its massive strength and sillage. Anything more than a thimbleful results in serious migraine material.
Classified as an ambery fougère, Clubman hits the skin with a pleasant array of floral and mossy notes. The top boasts a Victorian-era rose note, which isn't lost to the ensemble of lemon, lavender, cinnamon, oak moss, and tree moss comprising the base. The velvety concoction swirls into a powdery drydown that smells exactly like a barber's brush. In fact, every time I use this stuff, I feel like I just got a haircut. It's truly amazing how much scent-association is built into Clubman.
Flanked by Clubman Special Reserve, Clubman Vanilla, and Clubman Musk, the original Clubman stands alone as the ultimate barbershop fougère. That's a pretty coveted category, although it's one that gets overlooked by niche-loving snobs. Even YSL felt the need to address the barbershop fougère with Tom Ford's Rive Gauche pour Homme. Frankly, when I think of Clubman, I think of this:
Now I know that first impressions are the most-enduring, and when meeting a woman for the first time, concerns of which shirt to wear, which way to part your hair, and which cologne to use prevail. But consider what happens if you and the lady end up together, and she takes the time to peek at your toiletries. I can think of no cooler thing than to have a nice big 16 oz. bottle of Pinaud Clubman sitting by my sink - it tells her I'm a man's man, a little grizzled, a little neat . . . but totally refined. Attention to detail, in the end, is the ultimate aphrodisiac.