My perfume of choice, the one I go back to every time I wander off with some alluring cheap scent in a pretty bottle that promises everything and delivers nothing.
Yves Saint Laurent's Opium.
A soft oriental. A delicious liquid cloud of incense, amber, spices and flowers. It's not as sweet or as heavy as a true oriental but its combination of rose, carnation, sandalwood, pepper, lily of the valley and clove makes me feel happy (and thin and wealthy).
YSL's Opium Pour Homme.
A quarter of the price of women's perfume or half depending on which fragrance counter I'm currently haunting.
It's a fresh oriental. It has vanilla, black currant, star anise, galangal, ginger and sichuan pepper.
It has woody undertones of Tolu balsam and Atlas cedar.
With no-one around to put this under lock and key which they do whenever I approach the women's Opium tester. I mean it's for testing, right, and that's what I'm doing, testing to see if it's fresh. I just happen to do it every time I go shopping. They shouldn't put it out for testing if they don't want it tested.
So there I was, in front of a full bottle of Opium Pour Homme and no-one to ruin the testing. So here I am now, thinking that if I run into a bloke who smells this good, my run as a born-again virgin will be at an end. There won't be much of him left either. Mind you it might'n smell as good on a male as it does on me. Top notes were nice, middle notes, a bit strong but now the bottom notes are mellowing into a vanillaryspicy
Iwanttoripyourclothesoffandlockyouinthebedroomforaweek type of fragrance.
Now to make it much better, they should remove Mr. Luscious from the Nautica aftershave gift box and put him with Opium Pour Homme. That's a package I'd welcome under the Christmas tree 52 weeks of the year.
I think I have to have a shower, I'm drooling over my arm and falling in lust with myself.