Taking the 'P'

Advantages: A reasonably accurate imitation of a designer scent, for a fraction of the cost.
Disadvantages: If you're asked what fragrance you're wearing, your reply will probably be a little less than truthful…

Scent can be an important means of communication to some, more specifically to the blind and deaf kids in the S.E.N. school where I work. It's for this reason that I wear the same fragrance every day of term, but with the summer holidays imminent and a 'Not White Musk. Again…' feeling, I recently decided that it was time for a change. With a dressing table that boasts a couple of pretty bottles containing stuff that's hung around for so long it now smells like Canal No. 5, it soon became evident that a trip to the shops was in order.

Some time later, scanning fragrance shelves for something that looked like it might be 'me', and failing to spot 'Eau de Skint Again' or 'Lust for Lager', my attention was diverted when my daughter leaned that little bit too hard on a stand holding cheap imitations of well-known and more pricier brands. It swayed like a ship in the wind, before loudly ejecting some of its contents in the direction of the floor. Feeling the eyes of everyone in the shop upon us, I shoved back boxes of 'YS' (Ysatis) and 'OP' (Opium), before grabbing the last one and fleeing to the checkout, where I discovered that I was about to treat myself to a bottle of 'P'. Delightful…

'P', from the 'Rumours' range of copycat fragrances, aims to emulate Christian Dior's 'Poison', and on taking it out of the box when I got home, I found that it fell short at the first hurdle. A tall, flat oval-shaped bottle replaced the familiar dark, squat little bottle, its clear glass displaying vivid purple contents that looked suspiciously like paint stripper. This was evidently *not* designed to grace a dressing table.

Remembering the attitude of my long-suffering family when I insisted that we finished the herbal shampoo that made us all smell like Cannabis plants, I conceded that it would probably be unfair to inflict another purchasing disaster on them. Still, I thought, as I tentatively took the lid off and risked a squirt at the wardrobe door, it's not as if *they've* got to wear it. I was surprised to find that it wasn't really that bad, and not all that dissimilar to what it was supposed to represent.

A quick sniff at an ancient bottle of 'Poison' confirmed that 'P' is a probably a little heavier and a little less flowery, but there's not a lot in it. Having said that, even gone 'off', the original smelt slightly better. Trying as usual to banish thoughts of actually sticking around for long enough to chuck the old scent bottles and other junk away, I was suddenly overwhelmed by a pressing need to take the kids off out somewhere, and was soon hitting the streets drenched in 'P'.

After an exhausting afternoon, we decided to take the bus home, and it was while boarding that I was asked by the driver "What perfume is it that you've got on? I think my wife would like that!"

I was surprised by this question on several levels, but still thought it deserved an answer. Was I boldly going to say in front of a busload of people 'I'm wearing P'? Of course I was… "It's fake Poison. It's going to smell different on your wife though." Chicken.

This was the only time I've ever been asked what fragrance I'm wearing, and to be honest I'd prefer something a bit less obvious. 'P' now languishes at the back of the cupboard, where it will probably remain until I need something with enough clout to offset another Cannabis shampoo error. In the meantime, I'm wearing White Musk. Again.