Why, you ask, would I read a fragrance book from front to back with a highlighter in my hand if I had no intention of flying to Paris to buy more abstract poetry in a bottle? And I quote:
"Who on earth would want to smell like this? I'm sure even the flowers, given a choice, would switch fragrance."
"To choose this as your personal fragrance could only be seen as a cry for help."
"An off-brand Whiskey Sour poisoned by your enemies. Run away."
"It's like beige trousers: comfortable, flattering, and unlikely to offend, but unlikely to inspire either."
"Stupendous Secretions! The Dada name had me drooling...It is not an animalic (supposedly) raunchy thing that works on the assumption that we collect soiled underwear or frequent the same nightclubs as cats and dogs."
"A low hum that may be eclipsed by diurnal clamor but rules supreme when, at 3 a.m., you know you are looking into your true love's eyes even though you can't see them."
"As if to apologize for the behavior of its Amy Winehouse older sister..."
"Such tremendous style, humor, and confidence that wearing it seemed guaranteed to make anyone briefly resemble Fred Astaire."
"Far from good enough to pass you off as aristocracy at the next charity ball."
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