THROWN OFF THE SCENT
Fiona Armstrong is distracted by her man’s new and intense odour
The chief's new aroma catches Fiona Armstrong off guard
TSeriously, do you really want your man to smell of grapefruit and tropical grass?
he eyes and ears are fine, touch wood. But as the years go by, I find I do not have the same sense of smell. Sometimes it is weak, especially if I have a cold. So when an overpowering odour hits from the far side of the kitchen, I know that someone has gone too far.
This time, though, it is not the Mac Naughties who have raced in, joyfully reeking of whatever nastiness they happen to have rolled in. No, this time, it is the chief who is causing olfactory nerves to tingle and noses to wrinkle.
Admittedly, it is not an unpleasant aroma. It certainly does not involve manure or sheep droppings. Indeed, it is of warm wood and spice. But when it comes to his aftershave, it appears that my husband has rather overdone it.
He has not been sparing. This child of the Sixties has not followed the Brylcreem advice of ‘a little dab’ll do ya’. Instead the MacGregor has had a serious Henry Cooper moment. He has been in a veritable ‘splash it all over’ boxing bout with a bottle of something herby.
And why not? I suppose it’s better to smell fresh than foul. And millions of British men now spray themselves with things citrusy or musky. But my husband rarely wears the stuff. And the question is: why is he mired in myrrh when all the morning of- fers is a visit to the local supermarket? Perhaps there is a pretty girl on the checkout he hopes to impress?
He needs to be careful. As one Perthshire aristocrat famously told her dazzling daughter as she wafted down the stairs in an intense cloud of scent on her way to a high society ball: ‘Can I remind you my dear that the aim is to attract, not asphyxiate...’
Fragrance has been around forever. The Egyptians were master makers and their queen, Cleopatra, famously filled her sails with scent to make the winds lovesick. Even rufty-tufty men used it. Napoleon Bonaparte was said to be mad for eau de cologne. The French leader got through dozens of bottles a month, which is odd when he allegedly told his lover, Josephine, not to wash herself.
Louis the 15th had a perfumed court. But today the sweet smelling stuff is available to we lesser mortals – and increasingly to men. The male population now spends billions of pounds a year on zesty colognes and aromatic aftershaves.
They may be whistling in the wind. On National Fragrance Day, one newspaper pointed to the fact that your average Scotsman is more likely to be interested in a whiff of whisky or a trace of bacon butty than in buying a bottle of magnolia or orange flower spray.
Seriously, do you really want your man to smell of grapefruit and tropical grass? Or how about lemon and seaweed? I actually want mine to smell of plain old soap and water, although I rather like the sound of the thistle and black pepper aftershave that one Scottish company makes.
And here’s a thought, chaps. A recent survey shows that women like the smell of men who eat fruit and vegetables, rather than those who binge on bread and chips.
Anyhow, back to the chief. It turns out he was having a clear-out of the bathroom cabinet when the bottle tipped up and went all over his shirt. Well, that’s his excuse anyhow. The smell lingered in the kitchen for days…