Salvador Dali pour Homme smells just like the mythical Babylonian beast, forget its name, that was supposed to be unwashed bull from the waist up and overripe persimmon from the waist down. He could neither walk nor roll and so tragically took his own life by chain-smoking and wearing too much Halston Z-14. With our modern knowledge of mythical composite creatures, I like to believe that he could now be saved. Alas, we are too late, and all we can do is write copiously and resolve, particularly at this blessed time of year, to be kind to our loved ones, to dumb beasts, and to people who smell weird.
I had to do some research to learn this, but I like how your visual matches the bottle: taurine head over polyp-shaped body. The head of the bottle also looks like the torso of the critter in the picture.
ReplyDeleteAnd thank you for making the bull part on top.
One reviewer says it smells like unwashed old woman wearing perfume. I suppose it's not this perfume. Otherwise, I'd be confused.
Have you seen the recently-proliferating sites that review wine with little regard for the established jargon and format of wine reviews? I like this as a potential project like that. You get to describe something in a way that people can make sense of without getting stuck in the ruts of old language.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the comment, John. I confess that there is no serious intent to describe the perfume in this post, although I do care about perfume and regard it as an artform. Like horse shoes, except that death comes by degrees. There really is such a perfume, though, and it is strange, or rather radically out of fashion. It has a lavender/jasmine accord that now seems both femmey and aggressive. As if Neil Diamond had fallen asleep in a cab for 35 years and was at this moment storming onto the stage at the Bowery Ballroom, all pheromones and harmony, all kerchief and collars.
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