darkened, sweet

As I was flipping through Esquire Magazine today at work, while my computer ran the second of four virus scans.. I was blessed with the indulgence of men’s fragrance. Now, I’m normally not a fan of samples tucked between pages. There’s something particularly fake and flamboyant about them. This time, however, I was inspired—half by the scent, half by a letter to the editor that made little sense, but used the phrases “rich dessert of blended impressions to savor slowly,” and “a deep, dark wine with a secret finish of intellect,” and finally “take the foot off life’s gas pedal and submit to the nuanced flavors of language.” I was inspired by the full-bodied richness that was not only masculine but smooth and relaxing. It left a fullness, like I had embarked to savor the scent, slowly. There was also something dark about it, like a cigar smoke-filled room, tucked away in the basement down a muggy alley. When I finally turned to the culprit ad—already in love with it and prepared to buy a bottle to give to the boyfriend I don’t have—I was disappointed in the image, not quite what I imagined, but the name: perfect.

Polo. Black. Ralph Lauren.