He Said: The Pope introduced his own fragrance recently, showing that absolutely everybody should have their own bottle of personal smell. His scent includes hints of tree blossom and grass notes. I would hope that the Pope’s grass notes are captured from freshly cut grass. That smell is divine. I don’t think tree blossom is an actual thing that one can capture scent from. That must be what the whole aroma game is all about; use a bunch of nonsensical phrases that explain nothing but hopefully pull at the imagination heartstrings of the consumer. The only necessary ingredients for fragrance building are some catchy buzzwords. My fragrance would include the essence of cherry, with a smooth, mildewy finish. Or perhaps it would attack the nose with the breath of tumbleweed followed by notes of nighttime raspberries and damp geraniums. Doesn’t that sound pleasant? It’s all nonsense, but I think if I took that description to Calvin Klein they would come up with something that retailers wouldn’t be able to keep on the shelves. Maybe orange should be included in this fragrance. In the office the other day someone was eating on orange, and there were a lot of comments about the powerful odour it was projecting. Orange does have an overwhelming smell to it, similar to how tomato overpowers anything else that tries to tickle your palette. I really am going to have to get the contact info for all the fragrance companies. I swear I can get a bidding war going for this stuff. It certainly sounds more exciting than the Pope’s grass and tree spray stink. She Said: This is a fairly easy question for me: my signature fragrance would smell like sarcasm. The difficult part is identifying exactly what sarcasm smells like. I’ve decided to just go with two of my favourite things, and explain why they define me. Lemon: I have always loved yellow candies the most out of all other candies. And lemon is a fruit, so if you don’t already know that lemons are sour, you might expect them to be sweet. Consider how babies react the first time they eat something sour. First, there’s the look of trust – babies trust their mothers won’t feed them something terrible. And then there’s the face of horror, upon realizing that the lemon’s innocent facade actually masks quite a bit of bite. And they never forget the experience. Chocolate: chocolate seems to be one of those things that either you really like, or you’re just not a huge fan of. And not all chocolate is the same. Depending on where you get it, chocolate can be awesome, or it can be fantastically awesome. So there you go. My perfume would be citrus-y, with a hint of chocolate. I may look nice and sunny on the outside, but once you get past the outer layer, you’ll find out that I’m pretty sassy. And you aren’t going to forget it. After that I’m like chocolate: either you’re a fan, or you’re not. And you’re probably not going to change your mind anytime soon, which is just fine with me.