Blind Buy Gone Bad

Friday afternoon, my son JD met me for lunch.  Our German waitress, Claudia, scared the hell out of me with her laser stare and thick accent ('do you vant ranch dressing or no ranch?  Jus' tell me vat you vant and I vill brrring it!').  After lapsing into sheer stupidity under the pressure - I could neither decide on my dressing nor settle the check correctly - a perfume reprieve was in order.  JD and I sprayed and sniffed at Sephora and I decided that my trip home would include a discount store browsing session to find a perfume that could soothe my bruised lunch ego. 

Roberto Cavalli eau de parfum had been stalking me for a while, and on Friday, it was eyeballing me again as I checked my iPhone for reviews and pondered whether or not to make the purchase.   Until now, I've tried to avoid it and never even sprayed it on my skin.  However, my imagination insisted that I was cheating myself of something exotic and warm, sexy and creamy.  Plus, the box is pretty and I like the round shape of the bottle, essential criteria for a blind buy.

It's not like I came home and immediately put the perfume on my skin.  No, no, no.  The ritual always begins by carefully opening the plastic cover on the box, just in case it goes back to the store.  I open only the top end, then squish my fingers in to open the box and turn it upside down so the bottle lands gently in my hand.  Then the perfume is sprayed on a paper strip and laid aside to dry.  After about ten minutes, I go back and sniff...then sniff again...then mull things over while re-reading all the reviews on Fragrantica.  Perfume-to-skin contact never happens until this ritual is complete. I waited to apply the perfume until Saturday morning.

For almost an hour, I tried to like it.  I faked liking it.  I pondered every circumstance in which I could imagine ever liking it.  I walked outside so it could develop fully in the fresh air.  I fantasized about writing a post about not liking it at first and then realizing I loved it.  I even had our dog Paige smell it, and she took a sniff but suddenly lost interest and licked her butt instead.

That's when I scrubbed.

To describe Roberto Cavalli eau de parfum in great detail now would just annoy me even more.  Cheap, sweet and cloying pretty much covers it, and its barely touched package is going right back to where it came from.  I feel smarter already - Claudia might even approve.

Image from jeancoutu.com