Pilgrimage To Sephora

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What’s a redneck to do in New York City?  Certainly not buying taco sauce!  Nosirree – not when there are perfume stores to visit!  Actually, I was looking for something completely different (like Starbucks and Kinokuniya) when I spotted Sephora near Times Square.  Seeing this as my opportunity to actually test out a bunch of high-end colognes and perfumes, I had a field day.  I picked up a gift for the wife (Bvlgari pour Femme) and a smaller one for myself (Terre d’Hermes), and I also met a ***WONDERFUL*** sales associate, who is also a big fan of Jean-Claude Ellena.  Seeing that I had bought her favorite men’s fragrance (T.d’H), I explained that I had given it a lot of competition, but found it the most interesting of the 15-20 men’s fragrances I had tested.  It was – in exactly the same way that Robert McKee describes a film audience’s hope and desire in a great film – what I expected, but in an unexpected way.  It is supposed to be “earthy” and “woody” – and it is.  But it is completely unexpected to me.  I just couldn’t get enough of it.  I just kept trying it and trying it over and over.  That’s when I realized that THIS was the one to plunk down money on.  I had high hopes for a few others, but they just didn’t thrill me.  Polo Explorer seemed slightly interesting, as I am a big fan of the whole Polo franchise, but it was just one more minor variation on the familiar peppery Polo theme.  No – I’ll get that later.

Back to the story – this super saleslady also turned me on to the “Jardin” scents as potential buys for the wife.  She was so right!  I think that my wife would really like “Un Jardin en Mediterranee” – it’s close to some of her favorites.  And I myself REALLY enjoyed “Un Jardin sur le Nil“.  Since these are both “unisex” scents, maybe we could even share!  But in any case, “Nil” is now on my “wish list”….

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The only question – can I keep from going back and buying out the place?  Scent addiction – I tell you, it’s as bad as gambling.  Yes, just like Gene Wilder, drunk in the gutter with a bottle of Woolite, so they will find me, warming myself on a park bench, clutching my bottle of Eau d’Jatamansi.

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