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Ghost-of-a-Chance

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Ghost-of-a-Chance last won the day on July 6

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    Ghost-of-a-Chance
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    Under a rock in the Missouri Ozarks
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    Rabid reader and writer. Occasional digital artist - hobbyist level.
    Unrepentant overthinker. Spotify addict and musical frissonist.
    Lover of symbolism, Drambuie, wildflowers, rainstorms, and foggy days.
    Certified Crazy Cat Lady - send me cats and I'll love you forever. Ask about my cats and I'll never shut up.
    Browser tab abuser - "online" may actually mean "nope, I'm not really here."

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  1. The names companies are giving scent notes is getting out of hand. Used to be, if you got migraines from certain scents, you could read the description and avoid them. Now what do we get? Sunshine, buttery yellow, and good intentions. Cool tavern nights, scheming, and filtered moonlight. Mother’s embrace and [insert random thing/place/plant that only exists in fiction]. Suspicion, the Halls of Moria, and Ancient Evils. Like, what the actual fuck is any of that supposed to smell like? For all we know, it could smell like expired hemorrhoid cream and garter snake pee or burned broccoli and crushed stinkbugs. Sometimes I wish we could make fragrance-selling companies—all of them, not just candle or perfume companies—scour their stores for a product that doesn’t trigger a migraine based on a specific profile. I’d pay money we don’t have for the chance to point and laugh whenever they realize that suspicion actually smells like ripe skunk ass and regret.

    In other words, three things are happening simultaneously.

    1. I get migraines from certain scent notes, will be stuck in a small, confined room with a flatulent, Mexican food-obsessed husband for a week with no escape, and won’t survive it without a quality fart-defense spray.
    2. White Barn thinks that A, cotton candy smells like peonies, and B, everybody knows what fairy dust smells like, not just the people who snort it.
    3. I apparently don’t have enough to complain about in my life, and I’m getting too old to just roll my eyes without pterodactyl screeching into the void about it.

    Oh, and 4: If I could, I’d go around smelling like black licorice. Just straight black licorice—none of that dried orange rind, aniseed, and Halloween Nights horseshit—just the kind of smell you get from diving nose-first into a bag of Wiley Wallaby black gold, but in a perfume. I’d never quit sniffing myself, it would be awkward for everyone, and I’d be too happy to give a ripe skunk's ass.

    1. Show previous comments  3 more
    2. GeorgeGlass

      GeorgeGlass

      Okay, now that you’ve started this game, here are my guesses about what each thing smells like.

      Sunshine, buttery yellow, and good intentions: marigolds + fresh-cut grass + a hint of lemon

      Cool tavern nights, scheming, and filtered moonlight: night phlox + red wine

      Mother’s embrace and [insert random thing/place/plant that only exists in fiction]: sandalwood + Tide laundry detergent

      Suspicion, the Halls of Moria, and Ancient Evils: wet rock + iron + crumbling parchment

      Wait, is this not a game?

    3. BronxWench

      BronxWench

      It used to be that I could count on Bath and Body Works to give me fairly accurate fragrance notes on the body creams I love. Like today’s choice: On The Beach, which is described as white frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, bergamot waters, sea salt breeze (okay, not helpful), and sunkissed musk. Eliminating the florid descriptors, it’s pretty much a coconut-y beach lotion sort of frangrance.

      BUT the newer fragrances tend to be heavy on the florid descriptors and woefully lacking in actual real identifiable scents.

      (Not to mention that the men’s line somehow always smells better...)

    4. Ghost-of-a-Chance

      Ghost-of-a-Chance

      @Melrick, nearly everyone in my family has some level of sensitivity to chemical fragrances, specifically as migraine triggers. It tends to get worse with age, unfortunately. 😒 My previous partners learned early on that some grooming products might result in me suddenly becoming unavailable until they washed it off; some were understanding, but none were proactive, and more than a few got snippy over something I couldn’t avoid. Then I met my now-husband. This guy has me pick out all his grooming supplies, all scented cleaners, and all fragrance products because I recognize my triggers better than he does and he ‘doesn’t want to get something I can’t handle.’ It’s the sweetest thing. (Also, he may have been a little scarred by the time he brought home a Vanilla disinfectant and I wound up with a three day vomiting migraine. Vanilla. The blandest of the bland. They threw a note like gardenia in it.)

      BronxWench, why do the guys get products that smell better? If it’s for women, these jackwads will find somewhere to shove half a dozen various chemical flower notes even if it’s something straight forward. 🙄 Guys get simple scents like mint, citrus, bergamot, etc. I’m about ready to go full disaster-bi with grooming products just so I can find something that won’t make me sick. 

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