What to make of Joop! Homme . . . let's see here. It's an eighties megahit. It joins Cool Water, Drakkar Noir, and Obsession as one of those Ultimate Men's Fragrances of the last thirty years. It is bold, aggressive, and a little obscene. An oriental coated in Ranier maraschino cherry sauce. There's a decadent quality to Joop! that transcends the oriental genre of the eighties, and moves into a territory of its own. It conjures memories of a Python-wielding Christian Slater from the movie Heathers. This guy might be all charm on the outside, but there's something waaaaay serious going on under the facade.
Meanwhile, the tagline is Real Men Wear Pink. This is obviously something that came from Europe, as no American guy would buy it. Indeed, the Old World sees sales of Joop! regularly through the roof, which keeps it alive in overseas markets, including ours here in the States. In New England it's a curiosity worn mostly by older men and black youths. Guys in their early forties remember when it was new and cling to it; hip-hoppers clubbing at midnight appreciate that it projects for miles and rubs onto lingerie and car seats. This stuff is a territory marker. It's possibly the strongest masculine scent ever produced.
Never has packaging been more fitting for a fragrance than it is for Joop! Homme. It smells pink. The juice is purply-pink (and gets darker as it ages). It isn't often that I say this, but I'm glad I purchased this old, ultra-sweet oriental today. I've been reminiscing about the eternal sugar of Joop! Homme lately, and had to snatch up a cheap bottle (with matching aftershave). Yeah it's synthetic, and yeah it's going to wear me, but everyone needs at least one frag like that in their collection. I used to think I hated Joop!, but now that I understand that I simply wasn't in touch with my inner pink.