Move over Jil, it's all about Tom now

About once a year I splurge on perfume, or more accurately, a high-end eau de toilette. Jil Sander No. 4 was my signature scent, but then for some unknown reason [no doubt just to torture me...] the fashion house of Jil Sander stopped making it. I reluctantly moved on to another scent by Jil Sander. Not a huge deal because although I preferred No. 4, I did like the new one. It was truly too much though when I went by local high end department store to get a new bottle and was told that Jil Sander no longer is selling perfume in Canada.

WTF? I felt personally attacked. I tried to keep my emotions in check by reminding myself that half the world doesn't have clean water let alone the luxury of buying perfume, but I really was at a loss. I stared at all the other lotions and potions but mainly kept walking around the space as if Jil Sander perfume was going to magically appear and I would be able to tell the lady, "You're WRONG. Here it is!" [and of course I followed this up by devouring the info on the Jil Sander site].

Fast forward a couple of weeks and I am cutting through same high-end department store en route to the mall below to find lunch. I was wearing a fabulous hat and huge sunglasses and all the store assistants were offering to help me in the mistake that I had the income to regularly shop there. Yet one of the people who asked me if I needed help was a hot as hades man staffing the Tom Ford perfume section. I thought that were worse ways to pass the lunch hour. As such I spent the next few minutes sniffing and sampling and yes, inadvertently I found my new scent. Nevermind that I can't actually afford to buy it - I have asked for it as a combined Christmas/birthday gift.

I left the store with it sprayed on my wrists and at one point was standing waiting to cross the street when I thought, "Dayum something smells good". This was followed by the realization that *I* smelled good! I was turning myself on. I wanted to have sex with me. Not as in self love. I mean, I actually wanted to clone myself and have sex with me. I felt so gorgeous. It was a weird out of body experience where I couldn't stop thinking, "This person. This woman with that scent. She must be some amazingly erotic creature"

If I don't receive it as a gift, I will eat lentils and brown rice for a month just so I can buy a bottle. Life is too short not to smell nice.

Now if only I could find a solution for my ever-growing disgusting minge. My waxer sold her business and went back to Colombia. I'm happy for her but I need to avoid sex, PAP smears, and all other naked moments until I get some good grooming again. When I do, I'll lie around wearing nothing but my new perfume.