I wore Egoiste to the ballet today. What was more notable was that someone near me was most certainly wearing Vero Rubj, with it's unmistakable smell that I can only describe as what passionfruit Koolaid would smell like in its still powdered form.
I think I smelled Green Irish Tweed twice in my life. I don't get the appeal of that stuff.
Today I am wearing Yohji Homme. Anise fougere. Great stuff for a day at home cleaning diarrhea up from my son.
What the fuck? I don't remember this. I think of the reporters who've lost their lives in war zones and those who are sneaking around in Mosul as we speak and look at this guy who pulls out a fucking gun when some protesters in probably his home town get too close to him.