Edie took us out to a few leather bars on SoMA, and I was very proud of Dave when he took off his shirt to reveal his own natural sweater. Although I'm one chromasome off from most of the patrons, I would guess we all appreciate some of the finer things in life including bears, beers and pinball.
It's harder trying to share someone else's fantasy that is not your own. That's the case with Ambre Narguile. Acknowledged as a masterpiece by monsieurs Burr et Turin, it is a prime example of a beautiful scent that simply does not work on me. I know that Turin claims that "personal chemistry" is a load of nonsense, but from experience I find that my skin magnifies ambers and musks to Japanese Disaster Film proportions. Sweet, decadent, and exotic, Ambre Narguile looms very large olive skin. With this baby cranked up to eleven I smell like fresh baklava in an opium den.
So please give it a good home! A 4ml glass vial just for you. Tom? Gaia? My numerous teen groupies? If you'd like it, post a comment, and I'll pick a lucky recipient at random.