FULL DISCLOSURE: For a few months, 13 years or so ago, I used Axe Body Spray. I admit it. I’m not proud of it. My body probably still resents me for using it. But, hey, at least I admit it.
Let’s be honest here, Axe Body Spray is horrible stuff. You could douse yourself in charcoal lighter fluid, and you’d smell better than if you spritzed yourself with Axe. That’s just scientific fact.
To be fair, I have a good excuse for trying Axe all those years ago. Specifically, I’m stupid. And I’m also lazy. I was grocery shopping, and I saw Axe, and I bought a few bottles. It was personal hygiene packaged as Lysol. How could I go wrong?
I still have two of those original bottles. Full. I would throw them away, but the earth has enough problems without me adding those two Axe bottles into a landfill. Plus, they may come in useful in the event of a zombie apocalypse, because even zombies would be repelled by Axe—they prefer people with brains, after all.
A little known fact about Axe: it was introduced by Unilever in 1983 in. . . France. Yeah, France. If there’s a nation requiring an aerosol blast of fumigation, it would be France. But, did France have to go and export the vile stuff to America? Yes. It was payback for the ridiculously low price we paid for the Louisiana Purchase.
So, yeah, Axe is disgusting, despite all those ads showing women flocking to Axe-infused men as if they recently rolled in a pile of sticky $1,000 bills. Those ads are incredibly deceitful.
All of that said, I simply must point out that Axe is not alone when it comes to odor abominations. The Bath and Body Works (BBW) chain is perhaps the world’s foremost nasal offender when it comes to peddling assaulting scents. What makes BBW particularly nefarious, however, is that you don’t realize how horrible some of their products smell until AFTER they’ve had a chance to adhere to your skin for a few minutes. Oh, sure, the fragrances smell great when you hold the bottle up to you nose and give it a gentle squeeze, but squish the liquid into a luffa and lather your body up, and half an hour later you’re wondering why your children are in a corner gagging for air.
This morning, for example, I was in the shower and I noticed a new BBW body wash fragrance my wife purchased called “white citrus,” which in retrospect is a peculiar, misleading name. I mean, you wouldn’t tear into an “albino orange,” would you? No, you’d think it was a snowball.
Anyway, I saw the “white citrus” body wash and decided to give it a try, and as I was lathering up I thought it did, indeed, have a modest citrus smell to it. After I dried off and was throwing on some clothes, however, I found myself wondering “What in the world is that smell that’s all over my body?”
I smelled exactly like the glue I used to assemble plastic models when I was nine years old. I was immediately transported back in time to all those airplane and motorcycle replicas with a veneer of excess glue smeared over all the pieces, because I couldn’t put models together to save my soul. AND I COULDN’T ESCAPE THE SMELL. I WAS the smell. And I couldn’t very well get away from myself, now could I? I was stuck with that stink all day.
So, yes, Axe Body Spray is atrocious, but BBW has its own unacceptable array of horrid odors that no one ever tells you about.
I mean, seriously. WHITE CITRUS?
Posted by Ryan at December 7, 2013 01:53 PM | TrackBack
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