I Smell A Rat

It’s rumored that Snooki has inked a fragrance deal. Naturally this has inspired creative speculation about the scent.

Many have suggested something smelling of tanning spray, laundry detergent and a gym bag, but that seems too cliche and expected for me. I imagine something grittier for the Queen of Spunk and Good Taste.

I’m thinking Eau de Dirty Panties, like the kind you wear home on the Walk of Shame, take off and throw in a corner of your bedroom where they stay for three weeks, with a note of stale beer.

A fragrance is supposed to reflect the celebrity that inspires it right? I think we can all agree that it’s far better to smell like Snooki than to act like her.

The wearing of fragrances has existed since ancient times. They masked odors in the ages when cleanliness wasn’t routinely practiced. They makes us more attractive, easier for others within close proximity and freshen us up when we feel dirty.

I guess it’s no surprise that so many celebrities with trashy images, sex tapes or vajay-jay photos across the internet (yes I’m talking to you Kim K. Paris and Britney) market a fragrance to literally clean up their image. (Not to mention cleaning up on sales.)

That option isn’t available for the rest of us (the post-sex scandal profit potential part). In fact, I feel confident that my future success depends entirely on me never having a sex scandal. (Though the sky is the limit with characters in my fiction.)

I’ve never purchased a celebrity fragrance. I don’t want to buy even a small part of someone else’s image while I’m working hard to secure my own as a writer. 

If I had my own fragrance, you wouldn’t see any notes of  jasmine, bergamot, sandalwood or musk.  Those are lovely indeed, but not reflective of my real life.

Eau de Dawn would smell like this- Sultry, but stressed out, an intriguing impression of intoxicating cleaning chemicals used for pet stains seductively laced over with notes of musty laundry and alluring hints of unbathed teenagers stuck in a warm car.

Of course it’s fun to fantasize about fragrance. What would having an agent smell like? Clean sheets, because I could finally sleep well at night? Printer ink for all those contracts I’d need to sign? New clothes, for the sharp J. Crew suit I’d have to have for my book tour? 

How we smell isn’t as important as what we do, but who can blame any woman, even Snooki, for wanting some Romeo to become intoxicated with her scent? In short, I believe that fragrances are made to enhance who we are, not turn us into someone else. 

My life by any other name would smell as sweet.