Thursday, June 08, 2006

Pickles


I’ve come to realize that my perfume reviews are boring. In comparison to other, more sophisticated perfume bloggers, mine seems elementary and basic.

Instead of saying exactly how a perfume smells, I use too many adjectives like ‘lovely’ and ‘beautiful’ and ‘wafting on the wind‘, which honestly don’t tell you anything!

Now, if a particular ‘fume smells like the waxy red dashboard of a 1964 Impala (and you know with certainty what that smells like because you’ve lain across it while drunk out of your mind) with jasmine oil and a scosh of pine poured over it, that’s what I’m going to say.

So, instead of saying it smells ‘unusual’ or ‘twacky’, I’ll elaborate by describing said twacky scent -- say it smells like burning amber incense with a hint of pickles, that’s what you’ll get -- and not just any nameless pickle, either. It'll read bread and butter pickles. Dill pickles. Garlic pickles. Moldy, homemade pickles with a gloss of high octane ethanol and the pungent, cheesy essence of toe jam.

You get what you pay for.

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