Walk past any pharmacy or the cosmetic section of any department store and you will be inundated. As if we can’t get enough of Shitney Spears and Gwen Stefani in the general zeitgeist, we need to apparently smell like them. Everyone from Ewan McGregor to Kylie Minogue now has their own fragrance – yours for just a few hundred bucks. It seems celebrities themselves have become brands; bright, shiny objects for our mass appeal and consumption.
Frankly this whole thing is pathetic and I have an idea to turn it on its arse: Lemmy the fragrance. It will come in a hip flask made of old German World War Two surplus with a big German eagle on it. Forget high notes of Brazilian Sandalwood and patchouli, Lemmy the fragrance smells of denim, leather cowboy boots, Malboro Reds, Jack Daniels and Coke, sweat covered Marshall amps and fresh amphetamines. This is a fragrance, finally, that will melt knickers and scare small children.
For those who don’t like wearing Lemmy the fragrance, you can have it with Coke on ice. Or for the die hard, it will come in a snortable form. Either way, you’re never going to end up in some poncey hip hop bar wearing this stuff and it should help rid the shelves of the next Paris Hilton fragrance which probably would smell of chlamydia and wet patch. Oh yeah and it would make Lemmy live on forever, which seems inevitable anyway.
What more could you ask for? Willy Nelson the fragrance? Well that would be the smell of smoking a spliff at your grandfather’s house which limits its potential. So Lemmy shall have to do.