About
The man of today. Does he deserve the name? Fat, unkempt, disheveled. Shorts at work. Sweats on a date. Cheeto dust, pit stains, toenails that peek out to say hello. A thundering slobbishness drowning out Beauty’s noble choir.
In other words, the very opposite of a Baritone Man.
Baritone Men. Islands of defiance in a sea of vulgarity. Monuments to the greatness we all used to cultivate; straight-shooters whose style echoes through the ages, a war-cry in the name of male dignity.
Faux-hawks. Man-buns. Greasy neckbeards. The Baritone Man’s never had them, never heard of them. What’s his secret?
WEAPONIZED HANDSOMENESS, courtesy of Baritone: classic formulas that rage against the creeping singularity of ugly. Other brands scream “self-care,” but what they really care about is a mind-numbing multitude of hollow virtue signals. Their army of slobs is just another statistic: one that must be rectified by more capable hands.
Fix yourself, and Beauty will follow. This is how a Baritone Man wins.