Thursday, January 24, 2008

Paco Rabanne, Urinal Cakes, and a Prize Draw

I decided to take a wee break (hey, that rhymes!) from the Lauder lauding, mainly because for the past two days I have been so distracted and crazed in the morning that I barely even remembered to wear perfume. Both mornings I groped my decants blindly and sprayed whatever I picked up first. Yesterday I actually managed to get most of one spray into my mouth instead of onto my neck, where I thought I was aiming. Mandarine Mandarin does not a breath-freshener make.

So remember how the other day I was telling you Bob really comes up with some gems? Well.

I ordered a decant of Paco Rabanne Calandre last fall. I had actually managed to talk myself out of buying a full bottle unsniffed. Just a few calls to my sponsor, some tearing of hair and gnashing of know the drill. For some reason, it called to me, as perfumes are wont to do, and these notes sounded right up my alley:

Top: leafy green, aldehydes (Michael!), bergamot
Heart: rose, lily of the valley, geranium, jasmine
Base: sandal, vetiver, musk, amber

I am pretty sure I tried it right after I got it, but you know, you can't order just one decant at a time, so I may have forgotten about it because something else caught on with me first. (I'm pretty sure it was L'Air de Rien, but that's neither here nor there.) To make a long story longer, I recovered this decant from a glass dish on my dresser a few days after I completed all my favorites of 2007 testing and promptly applied it. We were headed out to eat, so I went downstairs and grabbed my coat, and then followed Bob down to the garage.

We had just gotten into the car when he turned to me and said, "What's that smell?"

Never a good sign. But before I continue, let me backtrack and say I was really digging the soft green melding with a light powder in the background.

I'm such a trooper. "Probably my perfume," I said, holding my wrist out for him to sniff.

"That's it," he said. And then: "Urinal cakes."

On my life, I have never smelled a urinal cake, but I am pretty sure that while at some point in time there may have been a Calandre lotion or a Calandre dusting powder (things being what they were in 1969), I am solid on the fact there was no Calandre urinal cake.

"It's pretty!" I shrieked. I always shriek when defending my perfume choices.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing. It's nice. It just smells like urinal cakes."

Now, I haven't been married that long, but I have been married long enough to know, there are just some things you don't want to investigate too closely. I'm pretty sure a loved one's fondness for the scent of urinal cakes falls into this category.

I pouted all day. Every thirty minutes or so I waved my wrist around under his nose.

"Urinal cakes."


I realize this might not be the best way to line things up for a prize draw, but no matter how pretty I think Calandre is (soft green and rosy woods, slightly powdery, elegant), I will never be able to wear this. The man will always and forever smell urinal cakes. When he gets hooked on something like that, there's no changing it, so I have decided to part with what's left of my decant. I can't tell if this is a 2 or 2.5 ml decant, but it's a little glass atomizer a smidge over half full. Leave your name in the comments and let me know if you're game, and I'll draw on Saturday. And if you don't like it, you can always use what's left to freshen the unmentionable area of your powder room.

*image from Imagination Perfumery, where 3.4 oz can be had for a song