SMELLS LIKE
SOMEONE'S UNCLE
OWNS BOATS.
A scent that lies about its bank account.
For sheets that act like they've been folded by a housekeeper who's been with the family for thirty-six years. For towels that pretend the boat is moored, not stolen. For Sunday afternoons that refuse to end at five.
Side effects include: judging other people's laundry, becoming insufferable at hotels, requesting fabric upgrades at Airbnbs, and an irrational attachment to towels you have only just met.
"For people who don't deserve a second house — but will act like it."
— Nonna. Not as a compliment. Also not a complaint."My bathroom now feels financially superior to me. I am not mad about it. I just no longer take advice from it."
"I came back from the office and accused my husband of having an affair. He laundered. There was no affair."
"My mother stole the bottle. I had to buy three more, two for me, one for the inevitable second theft. Inheritance issues."
"This is the first time a perfumed laundry product has caused me to question my own moral compass. I welcome the reckoning."
"Cold girl winter is over. I am now warm girl spring, with very emotional sheets. I require nothing else."
"I have started judging hotel towels professionally. I do not see this as a problem. The hotel sees it as a problem."
Wear it on sheets. Wear it on towels. Never wear it on Monday.
Two capfuls in the softener drawer. Yes, two. Don't insult the bottle.
Cotton, linen, towels, sheets. Microfiber is not invited.
Dry slow. In sunlight if you have it. In dignity if you don't.
Smell the towel. Make a face. Make a different face. Reconsider the year so far.