This weekend I had the pleasure of spending hours and hours at the Isabella Stuart Gardner Museum and the Museum of Fine Arts. In addition to the innumerable delights consumed via my eyes, I was impressed with many of the delights provided by museum patrons par nez.
Being a scent-hound, I pay attention to perfumes I pass in public. I have to say that this particular set of museum-goers were easily the best-scented group of folks I’ve encountered in the wild in quite some time. Sure, we all usually drown ourselves in something-or-other when we go out to a club for the evening, but it’s hard to capture specific scents amongst the beer, fog machine, sweat, and whatever else might be going on (oh, what sort of clubs do you frequent?). It turns out that museums are apparently exceptional in this regard, being filled with quiet, slow-moving, interesting people. It makes sense in retrospect, but I never put two and two together previously.
Some of the juices were pedestrian, but that’s okay. At least folks were making an effort. A handful of ladies had some impressive scents. Luckily none called security on me for following them around with my nose. None of the men’s scents stretched the boundaries of style, though I was pleased by the number of men wearing scent in general, and I was pleased that there weren’t too many instances of the painfully-overused (out-used? used-up?) common male perfumes. I even caught a whiff of some Old Spice at one point!
Picayunes aside, it was a blast art-looking, people-watching, and people-smelling! I’m already looking forward to my next visit to a museum.
If you were at either museum this weekend and walked past a long-ish-haired gentleman who smelled of tuberose, that was probably me. Pleasure to make your nose’s acquaintance; I hope I did not olfactorily offend.