Awhile back, Marvin's aunt–who I will call Auntie Garp–and I got into a pertinent discussion about Joy perfume. Actually it was about two seconds long. She said, "Marvin's grandmother used to wear Joy." And I said, "Oh, I have always wanted to smell that."
Let me tell you what. When I was about eight years old, I saw an ad somewhere for Joy perfume, and when I read their slogan, "The costliest perfume in the world," I was hooked.
I do not know why I fit into the Joy perfumers' demographic, with my eight-year-old-living-in-Saginaw-Michigan-in-my-hippie-parents'-house-with-the-black-and-white-zigzag-shag-carpeting -and-poster-of-Bette-Midler-in-the-living-room self, but that marketing ploy TOTALLY hooked me. I absolutely wanted Joy perfume.
I still fall for marketing schemes such as this. Have you seen those high heels with the red soles that cost $750? What are they? Christian Louboutin shoes, right? Yeah. I would sell my left grandmother for a pair of those shoes. And why? Who is going to see my soles? I'll tell you who. If I had a pair of those shoes, I would purchase gynecological stirrups and a gurney and wheel myself everywhere so you could ALL see my soles ALL THE TIME. It would be so worth it.
So, ever since I was eight I have wanted to at least smell Joy perfume, to see if it smelled costly, but you know what, it is never up there on the counter at Penney's with the Clinique Happy and the Estee Lauder Pleasures and I have never gotten to smell it.
Marvin's Auntie Garp remembered what I said about wanting to smell Joy, and because I had such a craptacular week last week, she sent me some. Here it is duking it out with my Muguet Du Bois.
And you know I almost didn't open the package? I've got my mother sending me packages saying, "I'm sending you something but don't open it till Christmas" and I've got my Aunt Mary saying, "I'm sending you a pre-Christmas gift so it's okay to open anything that comes from me directly but not anything that comes from a store" and I am getting so confused I don't know whether to scratch my watch or wind my arse, but open that package I did, and when I saw that bottle of Joy I did this for 10 solid minutes:
Anyway, THANK YOU, AUNTIE GARP. I smell so…costly.