Friday, June 15


I Smell the Scent of a Pontiff

On great state occasions, yours truly wears, of course, the official cologne of the Alderman family men, made by Guerlain, you know, the one in the dangerously breakable glass bottle with the official warrant from Napoleon III. I think it's something like Eau de Cologne impériale. ...Okay, maybe describing it as "official" is a bit much as the only Alderman men who wear it are my father and I, but it is good stuff.

Now Nappy Three may have been a bit of a kepi-wearing lounge lizard, but he had snappy taste in uniforms and a cute Catholic wife, and he smelled good, too. Those of you who knew me in college are still emotionally scarred for the time I dressed up as the parvenu Emperor for the architecture school's costume ball, but the theme was Eurotrash, after all. I wasn't like everyone else who just wore jeans and pleather. (My date went as Catherine the Great--anachronistic, but rather a fun combination, helped by the fact I just happened to own a full-size replica of the Russian Imperial standard at the time. We wandered around campus afterwards freaking everyone out with our appearance.)

...Where was I? Ah yes. Cologne.

I was amused to discover that apparently Napoleon III's fellow monarch, the redoubtable Pius IX, had his own official cologne which has been resurrected according to a now-very-long-dead-post on Fr. F's lively blog. It is, rather than being stuck with a goofy Calvin Klein-style name like Infallible (say it with a silly French accent), simply called The Pope's Cologne. Works for me. Though really, after all that incense gets into your simar, you really don't need additional scent.

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