Monday, October 01, 2007
So, tonight I stopped into Barneys Coop to find a birthday present for a friend's upcoming Very Big Birthday. While at the cash register, I noticed two different perfume testers: one was Frederic Malle's Outrageous, and the other was 100% Love by S-Perfume and Sophia Grojsman, available only at Barneys. I picked up what I thought was the former, sprayed it on my inner wrist, set it down and waited for it to dry, then noticed I'd accidentally sprayed the latter, 100% Love. While the girl was ringing up my purchase, I took a quick whiff of my wrist. Again, nothing. And then... I. Almost. Fucking. Died.
Now, I know I tend toward descriptive hyperbolics, but I almost never barf, and I am NOT exaggerating when I say that I immediately almost vomited and as I write this, even now, I continue to fight back the dry heaves.
Okay, lemme see if I can do justice to the foul malodor that befell me. You know that sickening sweet-and-sour smell that five-week-old milk has and how when you sniff it, it feels similar to an electric shock minus the high voltage? That's the sensation that passed through and over me when I sprayed that shit. Iller than all ills. On the train ride home, I kept hoping no one would see me surreptitiously stealing sniffs of my arm, even though people do and sniff far worse on trains. Part of me was afraid I looked a little nuts, but the other part of me was so taken aback by the heinous self-inflicted destruction seeping into my skin that I almost wanted to grab the stranger sitting next to me and ask them to smell it so I could be sure my nose was still working properly and I didn't all of a sudden have some kind of skewed wiring leading from my nose back up to my brain. I just had to keep smelling it because I was just in such disbelief. Seriously, packed 2nd Avenue F train platforms in the dead of August don't smell as bad as this shit does.
Anyway, at this point, my arm smelled like rotten milk, warm baby formula, undercurrents of stinky cheese, bold notes of urine and just a hint of fetid tangerines. I can only hope and PRAY that the tester bottle I picked up had, in fact, turned under all of those bright, hot Barneys lights, because nothing SHOULD smell like this on purpose -- certainly nothing one should be expected to pay for.
The fragrance is described as: "The pulpy erotic part of a secret red fruit, the rich, deep and velvety skin of a dark natural rose by L.M.R., a ray of green sap from the rose's thorn, a mystical "concoction" of incense and black cacao."
Reviews I've found describe earlier versions of the fragrance as sweet like candy and roses... uhhh... what? All I know is that I was afraid to walk into my home lest my cat sniff me and keel over.
I'm afraid of what I might need to remove this scent from my sad little arm, and I pray it doesn't involve gaoline or matches.