Grandma would watch the toddlers and our husbands wanted to watch the cars at the race track. So my sister and I decided on one of those free-spirit moments we’re good at.
In our little town, that meant a trip to Walmart.
Sample bottles littered the shelves but the fragrance doesn’t smell the same on the spray tip as it does on one’s skin. So we began, spraying a scent on a wrist. Then trying a different fragrance on the other wrist.
When there are over 30 bottles available to try, you run out of body places after awhile.
We had scent on the inside of each arm, with new spots of fragrance from wrist to shoulder. We spritzed the tip of each finger and thought about trying ankles and knees.
Even for us, that was too weird.
So, not finding a scent that really wowed us, we moved on.
Far from the fragrance aisle, I picked up a scent that I liked.
“Smell this one.” I thrust my forearm under her nose and she took a deep draw.
“I do, too,” she said. “I guess it took time to blossom. Let’s go get it.”
We headed back.
Sample bottles of fragrance do not smell the same in the bottle as on the skin.
We sniffed spray tips and spritzed fragrances in the air. But sample bottles of fragrance don’t smell the same in the bottle as on the skin. We couldn’t find our special scent.
We left the fragrance aisle smelling like the flower truck had collided with a fruit stand.
Smart women would have kept a chart of fragrance and location on the arm so it would have been simple to connect the sample fragrance with the label.
I called us free spirits. I never said we were smart.