Mr. Aromascope Gets Challenged
Marina and I decided to bring in some testosterone to our blogs, once again, for some hormonal balance. We recruited our dear husbands to undertake yet another project. This time - blind testing of 5 well known scents. They pretty much knew nothing about them - names, houses, notes. I must also add it took mine quite a bit of effort (which I publicly praise him for), and I got quite a few looks of utter despair and frustration but he made it! *Vigorous applause* Here you go, folks! I hereby present to you the olfactory ramblings of Mr. Aromascope.
Scent No 1. After this dies down a bit it smells distinctly like some sweaty old guy on the train who hasn’t washed in weeks. The kind whose fragrance has a significant and undeniable radius which prevents anyone from sitting nearby. I’m also picking up a hint of weak bladder. It doesn’t seem to improve and the old sweat smell lingers, leading me to wonder who would want to wear this other than people dressing up as bums for Halloween.
My comments: funny how he goes right to the drydown. Smart man. Um, I wear it, darling (and not for Halloween)! The scent in question is none other than the infamous Muscs Koublai Khan by Serge Lutens.
Scent No 2. My first impression of this was that it smelled like a shower, which drew a puzzled look from Ina, and understandably, because what does a shower smell like? Giving it more thought, it reminded me of those deodorants with names like Shower Fresh, Fresh Aire, or Spring Fresh that bear little resemblance to anything in nature. People who like Ivory Soap would probably love this. A second spray hit me with “baby wipes” at first, but after that it was back to post-shower products.
My comments: ahem. How shall I say this in order to make it least offensive (for Mr. Aromascope, you just undermined the entire foundation of perfumery). Forgive the poor man, folks. This is Chanel No 5 he’s talking about. Oy.
Scent No 3. This struck me as unpleasantly medicinal at first, then indistinctly stinky for a short time, and finally a settling into a burnt wood smell that I kind of like. At one point I thought it reminded me a little of a musty cellar, but that passed. The longer this one sits, the more I like it.
My comments: now we’re talking! I knew he’d fall for this one. After all, it’s “the dark balm for Marina’s Mongolian soul”. Caron Yatagan.
Scent No 4. This is some kind of fresh melon on steroids. I almost licked it to see what it tastes like, but thought better of it. There’s more to it, I’m sure, but my olfactory brain cells are still rather undeveloped. Is there a smelling course available for husbands of perfume fanatics?
My comments: he’s making progress! Melon it is not but delicious it is - Donna Karan Be Delicious for women. As a side note, pumpkin, do not lick perfume. Ever.
Scent No 5. Okay, I think I’m allergic to this one. Either that or I’m just smelled out. It made me sneeze and every time I breath it in, my head feels funny. To avoid a perfume-induced stroke I won’t spend much time on this one, but it smells something like baby powder and something else I can’t identify.
Okay, do I get my Metrosexual merit badge yet?
My comments: huh? Baby powder? Sneezing? Oh, so when I’ve worn it many times before, you never got such allergic reaction? If anybody is about to have a stroke that’d be me for my all time favorite perfume just got majorly bashed by my own husband. Hrmph. For the record, that “something else you can’t identify” is musk (animalic musk, to be precise) for the perfume is Musc Ravageur by Frederic Malle. As for the Metrosexual merit badge, let the readers be the judge, honey.
Image source: www.corbis.com
22 comments August 11th, 2006