A Small Collection of the Most Hilarious Comments on Fragrance Weaned off the Net

pic borrowed from here re: American Horror Story 

"It smells like spoiled rotten eggnog. The vanilla is nauseating. If I smelled this on another person, I would think that person was trying to cover the stink of an open necrotic abscessing wound by spreading spoiled vanilla cake icing on top of the wound." (OldSchoolCharm hates Musc Ravageur on Basenotes)

"A sweet ambery woody oriental that stays on your skin for at least 6-7 hrs and makes you go nasty and touch yourself. Amazing stuff. (Sneakersitch loves Profumi del Forte Versilia Vintage/Ambre Mediterranea on Basenotes)

"Hooker eating a burrito" (Serpent on Kingdom by Alexander McQueen on Perfume of Life)

"Fragrance reviews are silly. Fragrance marketing is even sillier." (from styleite.com and what makes it so funny is that it's so horrifyingly true)

"Have you rolled in gunpowder? What is it you are smelling of?" he said with an air of surprised distaste. This is what my tender 14 year old years met with one memorable afternoon as I was decked to the nines to go play at a piano concert organized by the Conservatoire. The delivering agent of the comment that would apparently shutter my childlike innocence was my own beloved father as we were entering the car, off to a -not so good- start to the concert in question. Flubberbusted and quite self-conscious for the rest of the afternoon (of which I have little recollection otherwise) I was rolling the info I had on the  innocuous Anais Anais by Cacharel I had just sprayed on in the back corridor of my mind. 

Turns out the real culprit was...Normaderm sulfur-containing ointment on my forehead. (The entire story is recounted HERE). 

"I think the weirdest comment I got was that I smelled like Poison Ivy (from Batman)- that was the guy's association. I was wearing Paestum Rose which I do find a bit toxic. ;) " (reader Ines on this blog)

"The perfume that smells like baby wipes is Park Avenue. It really smells like baby wipes and it has a gentle smell that babies love so they don't cry and do not fear it." (via answers.com)

'Like a vintage boudoir with old pants strewn over the floor' (for Infusion d'Iris, of all things, as mentioned by one of our anonymous readers) 😮

"I bought Guerlain's Mitsouko because I loved LT's review of it. He referred to it as a desert island scent! My husband agrees. He says it is the perfect desert island scent because it smells like bug spray. (our reader Amy Barry)"

"When my son was about three, he often said my perfume smelled "like vegetables." He meant it as a compliment!" 😁 (another reader called Amy)

"The one that puzzled me was "your intelligentsia-style perfumes" - that about my wood-amber-based mass-lux set of Eau des merveilles, Samsara, Sensuous, Prada's L'eau ambrée and Tom Ford's Amber Absolute (which was the immediate cause of the comment!) a bit diluted with Herba Fresca and Tocca's Cleopatra. Not something I would associate with intelligentsia, but well." (PerfumeShrine reader)

If you have come across more of that ilk, please add them in the comments!

Weird Comments on Perfume and Other Short Stories

"Have you rolled in gunpowder? What is it you are smelling of?" he said with an air of surprised distaste. This is what my tender 14 year old years met with one memorable afternoon as I was decked to the nines to go play at a piano concert organized by the Conservatoire. The delivering agent of the comment that would apparently shutter my childlike innocence was my own beloved father as we were entering the car, off to a -not so good- start to the concert in question. Flubberbusted and quite self-conscious for the rest of the afternoon (of which I have little recollection otherwise) I was rolling the info I had on the  innocuous Anais Anais by Cacharel I had just sprayed on in the back corridor of my mind.

Source: ghastlydelights.tumblr.com via PerfumeShrine on Pinterest Photo of Ina Balke, 1962 by Jeanloup Sieff

The guy has a good nose, you see, and I never for one minute doubted he would not be smelling what he said he was smelling. It's enough to make you a bit paranoid, though; if Anais Anais smells of gunpowder (on your skin? in general? who knows?), then what the hell do other, less conspicuous but more questionable, smells really smell of to those meeting you? Still, the experience was enough to make me doubt my perception and to start paying more attention to everything my father remarked on regarding smells.

It took me years to finally figure our that yes, my father had his nose screwed on the right way (this sounds much naughtier than it it's intended to be) and that yup, he was in fact smelling gunpowder indeed. It just wasn't coming from my Cacharel perfume, but rather from the Normaderm spot treatment gel which I used as a precaution on my forehead to deter stray pimples forming from my mousse-ed bangs sticking to it. The treatment contained sulfur, as I found out later on. In retrospect it's a good thing he didn't say I smelled of rotten eggs instead (which are highly sulfurous), my confidence would have been shredded to pieces and I doubt I would have ventured beyond the car. But the story goes to show that a weird comment regarding our scent can have an impact on our day; sometimes if we're obsessive enough, on more than one day. I mean, look at me, I'm rambling on something that happened years and years ago (more than I care to mention)!

I guess not everyone is as occupied as I was at 14 with what impression they give when going out wearing their latest perfume fling. (All right, all adolescents are a bit wrapped up in how they present themselves to the world, so take that statement at its face value). Otherwise things like Burger King fragrance or Zombie cologne spray wouldn't even be possible. But apparently they are, so there's something there. Do some of us secretly hide a frat-boy in our heart of hearts, longing to play pranks and engage in scatological questionable humor, their scent-du-jour included? Are there many others out there who are so afraid of giving off the wrong impression that they censor their fragrance wardrobe and limit their exposure, however? I bet there are. If you're one of those who upon hearing the word "diapers" (or "incontinence", "baby wipes", "ass", "like weed", "lady bits", "mothballs" and the dreaded "old lady" in relation to any fragrance) shudder and start viewing your beloved perfume bottle with the disdain reserved for child molesters, you know you're one of them.

And why are we so horrified of giving the wrong impression via our smell, much more so than our fashion sense, our world views or our home decorating? Probably because like the state of our complexion it is a biological indicator that speaks volumes without uttering a sound and, at the same time, like the books that we like or the art we enjoy a gauge of our taste & statement of the self.

So fire away in the comments: what are the weirdest comments you have had on your fragrance? I'm dying to know.