Rose
Joka253
2 Reviews
Translated · Show original
Joka253
2
I wish I could love you.
Damn, how do I even say this to her?
The big feelings, all the promises - in my imagination, everything was perfect. But then it became real, and reality, that stupid reality, hit me hard once again.
From the beginning:
I love roses. Visually and olfactorily.
I am also a shaving enthusiast, or in other words: a power user of aftershave.
And it’s not so much out of love for the fantastic craft of razor making, but out of the necessity of not wanting to walk around in my late 20s looking like Francis of Assisi.
On paper, the Pink Aftershave should fit me like Anna Scott fits William Thacker.
The high expectations, the huge anticipation for the first shared shave, the somewhat hectic lathering of the (absolutely fantastic Geo F. Trumper) shaving soap, and the excited, slightly shaky strokes with the Kamisori - all for nothing.
The scent is neither exciting nor really to my taste. Yes, it is somewhat rosy, and if you really focus and sniff hard, you can imagine it might be a real rose. But unfortunately, the monothematic "rose" didn’t turn out as well as I had hoped from the dear people at Harris. I had hoped for the feeling of walking through my rose beds in summer or the wonderful rose trellis in the park, but no, instead, an unpleasant feeling spread, as if I had just hastily bought a few shabby gas station roses because I forgot Mother's Day.
No matter, we’ll get through this together! Because if the scent is a bit musty, a bit too artificial, and perhaps blessed with a bit too much oil from the "Rosa Foetida," then at least the (almost more important) skin care properties should be right, right? Or?!
And once again, I was disappointed.
The skin feel is okay. No more, no less.
To be fair, we are explicitly dealing with a pure aftershave here and not an aftershave lotion/balm/something with skin care properties - still, I was a bit annoyed about it. Love is just not rational.
So my wish for my personal "Aftershave Notting Hill" has unfortunately ended more like Andrew and Nicole in "Whiplash":
joka: "I want to have the greatest shaving experience."
PAS: "And I would stop you from doing that"
joka: "Yes."
PAS: "You know I would stop you from doing that. You know that for a fact."
joka: "Yes."
PAS: "And you'd barely use me anyway."
joka: "That's right."
PAS: "And when you use me, you would treat me like shit, because I'm some aftershave that doesn't know how to reduce skin irritation and you have a path, and you're going to have the greatest shave, and I'm going to be forgotten, and therefore you won't be able to give me the time of the day because you have bigger things to pursue."
joka: "That's exactly my point."
The big feelings, all the promises - in my imagination, everything was perfect. But then it became real, and reality, that stupid reality, hit me hard once again.
From the beginning:
I love roses. Visually and olfactorily.
I am also a shaving enthusiast, or in other words: a power user of aftershave.
And it’s not so much out of love for the fantastic craft of razor making, but out of the necessity of not wanting to walk around in my late 20s looking like Francis of Assisi.
On paper, the Pink Aftershave should fit me like Anna Scott fits William Thacker.
The high expectations, the huge anticipation for the first shared shave, the somewhat hectic lathering of the (absolutely fantastic Geo F. Trumper) shaving soap, and the excited, slightly shaky strokes with the Kamisori - all for nothing.
The scent is neither exciting nor really to my taste. Yes, it is somewhat rosy, and if you really focus and sniff hard, you can imagine it might be a real rose. But unfortunately, the monothematic "rose" didn’t turn out as well as I had hoped from the dear people at Harris. I had hoped for the feeling of walking through my rose beds in summer or the wonderful rose trellis in the park, but no, instead, an unpleasant feeling spread, as if I had just hastily bought a few shabby gas station roses because I forgot Mother's Day.
No matter, we’ll get through this together! Because if the scent is a bit musty, a bit too artificial, and perhaps blessed with a bit too much oil from the "Rosa Foetida," then at least the (almost more important) skin care properties should be right, right? Or?!
And once again, I was disappointed.
The skin feel is okay. No more, no less.
To be fair, we are explicitly dealing with a pure aftershave here and not an aftershave lotion/balm/something with skin care properties - still, I was a bit annoyed about it. Love is just not rational.
So my wish for my personal "Aftershave Notting Hill" has unfortunately ended more like Andrew and Nicole in "Whiplash":
joka: "I want to have the greatest shaving experience."
PAS: "And I would stop you from doing that"
joka: "Yes."
PAS: "You know I would stop you from doing that. You know that for a fact."
joka: "Yes."
PAS: "And you'd barely use me anyway."
joka: "That's right."
PAS: "And when you use me, you would treat me like shit, because I'm some aftershave that doesn't know how to reduce skin irritation and you have a path, and you're going to have the greatest shave, and I'm going to be forgotten, and therefore you won't be able to give me the time of the day because you have bigger things to pursue."
joka: "That's exactly my point."
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