"Eau de Fool: The Day My Fragrance Collection Fought Back”
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Hey Gents, Joe A. here with another one for ya'! Let me preface this by saying I’m not crazy. I’m a middle-aged man with a mortgage, mild knee pain when it rains, and a healthy hobby-turned-obsession with fragrances. Nothing wild. Nothing weird. That is—until April 1st.
It started like any other morning. I shuffled out of bed, made a pot o' coffee strong enough to wake the dead, and headed to my dresser for the usual spray. Today felt like a Dior Homme kind of day—you know, classy but not shouting about it. I reached for the bottle… and it moved! At first, I thought maybe my eyes were playing tricks. Turns out, my collection was!
The second I touched the bottle, it practically leapt out of my hand and thudded onto the floor. Before I could even process that, I heard a noise that haunts me still: the unmistakable clink of glass as the rest of my bottles began to shimmy on their shelves like they were warming up for a group number. Bleu de Chanel gave a dramatic twirl. My bottle of Lataffa Kamrah hissed something unintelligible—probably in Arabic—and my full-size Aventus clone (I don’t care what anyone says, it smells close enough) turned its back on me completely. Then, out of nowhere, my beloved little (2200+) decant collection whispered, “We’ve had enough.” Enough of what, exactly? Turns out, my fragrances were fed up with me!
According to the mob (yes, I’m calling it a mob), I had committed the following crimes:
- Wearing Sauvage four times in a single week. (Guilty. It’s easy.)
- Neglecting fall fragrances during fall. (Guilty again. Florida weather lies.)
- Spraying, sniffing, and shelving without commitment. (Look, sometimes I just want a whiff, okay?)
The bottles had unionized! They wanted structure. Rotation. Seasonal respect. Even flankers were demanding their time in the spotlight. One of the Armaf clones threw shade at my niche samplers. Tom Ford literally rolled his eyes. And poor Cool Water was sobbing in the back, mumbling something about the ’90s. So, I did what any reasonable man would do. I tried to explain myself over a second cup of coffee. “Fellas,” I said, “you know I love you all. I just… I can’t wear eight scents a day. I have a job. A family. The occasional allergy.”
Didn’t matter. The shelf had spoken...
They misted themselves. In unison. I was caught in a fog of citrus, spice, synthetic oud, and existential crisis. I stumbled out of the room with my nostrils burning and the vague realization that I might’ve finally hit “too many fragrances” territory. When I came back an hour later, the bottles were back in place—calm, collected, not a sprayer out of line. But Azzaro Wanted was missing. So was my backup bottle of Abercrombie & Fitch Fierce. I think they ran off together. Maybe to open a kiosk at the mall!
I've decided that I'll have to be more careful. I'll rotate daily. I'll log my wears. I'll even give a bottle of Montblanc Legend a full week of solo duty out of respect (well...maybe not a 'whole' week...) Because if there's one thing I learned this April Fool’s… it’s that even your fragrances get fed up if you treat ‘em like background players.
So, go hug your flankers. Give that dusty bottle in the back a wear. And for the love of all things aromatic—don’t make Sauvage your personality!!
Stay fragrant my friends,
-Joe Average