Success is the Essence of New York

Andy Warhol Success Is A Job In New York

Bond No. 9 2009

No Bond, no Warhol glorification in this world can tempt me today into a wordy dessert - today, here and now, sober calculation reigns.

Test location: Kaufhaus des Westens, Berlin.

Method: One grab, one spray, a serious smile to fend off the artificially grinning saleswoman.

The finding: A cakey sweetness, heavily enriched with plum jam. A nectarous cement, more rock candy than anything else. The rose struggles, yet becomes submissive in the fearful grip of the tuberose. What an infamous desire for recognition it has?

Verdict (after an hour of manly shame in the most desolate spot of the homebound double-decker bus): Gourmand.
So Gourmand that one wants to wash it off. I couldn't wait until the end. But the "Success" hibernated under water, soap, and other perfumes, reappeared the next day as a vanilla-drunk side effect, wanted recognition - and got this comment as punishment. I'm sorry if I should now have slipped into emotional defense mode.
It should be 20 percent. And for "punishment," feel free to throw me out of here.