When a great many friends peer in upon my sizeable fragrance collection, I'm often told "dude, you're an addict"... "fraddicted", one might even say. And I'd even go as far as to say their observation is somewhat accurate. After all, I've worked many years in the industry, and over time, have amassed an enormous collection - over 600 miniature bottles, countless decants and samples, and drawers brimming with full-sized flacons. But before anyone calls the nearest mental health institution, I'm quick to respond with: "are you an enabler?", because often, its these very same people who come to me seeking advice on colognes, recommendations, and to even borrow the odd spritz before heading out on the town.
You see, the trouble with addiction is that the addict is often still relied upon by friends, family and colleagues alike. Even the most well-intentioned efforts to shield the addict from the consequences of his (or her) actions, will often result in co-dependant situations. Many will point and jeer and ridicule me for flittering away a portion of my expendable income on "yet another bottle of perfume", and yet they're the same ones who heap upon me, fragrance gift coffrets on birthdays and at xmas.
Ok, so perhaps I do have more juice than any man could ever imagine using in a single lifetime, but that's not the point. We all have our fancies... some smoke to excess, some drink copiously, and others parade around their living rooms with blinds drawn, wearing pink satin knickers... so, I ask you, dear members of the jury, where's the harm in smelling good?
Should I close up shop and deprive the good folk around me of the odd freebie sample, or half-empty bottle of somethingorother that has long since lost its appeal? Would they perhaps prefer I leave the house completely sans cologne and deodorant, and then swing past their house to lounge around on their thick, spongy jacquard sofas for a bit: damp arms thrown idly over the back of the puffy headrest? Hmm? I think not.
Allow a man his vices. This is not an illness. Don't ridicule or criticise, or you might just wind up with a sharp spritz of Kouros to the eye!
Now leave me alone to enjoy my harmless addiction. And close the door behind you please. I've a pair of smelly ballet-slippers to cram my feet into, while I writhe around naked on the floor in a big puddle of scented yellow muck!