Summer’s here, my friends, and as much as I love the beach and cut-off shorts and flip-flops and fun in the sun, there’s a whole heap that I ain’t so crazy about. Humidity. Here in North Carolina, it’s thick and it’s bad and it’s no friend to me and my scents. Chances are, in addition to working hard to please the tourists who provide my paycheck, I’m going to be sweating. Not glistening, mind you, but sweating, and that means, unless I’m wearing an absolute powerhouse with the staying power of family visitors at Christmas, by late morning, anything I spritzed before leaving the house will be gone and all my efforts to smell intriguing or interesting or exotic or whatever mood I was aiming for will have been in vain. Add to this the fact that what are usually considered appropriate summer scents are generally the ones I find least interesting of all. I don’t really like to do clean, fresh, or citrusy; eau de colognes are just wasted on me. These fragrances will last all of an hour, maybe, and I’ll be stuck smelling like everyone else around me. I like heavy. I like intense. I like loud. Last week, temps here were pushing 100 degrees and I found myself craving leather scents all week long. Go figure. Needless to say, I’m already ready for fall.

But we soldier on, doing whatever it takes to survive, finding comfort in those scents that can go the long haul and take us where we need to be. There’s a handful that I’ve found in heavy rotation lately, some that might not always be a good judgment call on my part, some that have may have abandoned me come quittin’ time, but all somehow getting me through the fire.

I don’t know why I ordered it blind, other than the fact that it was on sale and only a 30 ml bottle, but Parfums de Nicolai’s Eau d’Ete ended up arriving on my doorstep just in time for summer. Lord knows the name alone sounded like something I would hate, but I think I just threw it in my basket in an attempt to have something in my wardrobe seasonally appropriate. Turns out, I kinda love it. No, it doesn’t last all day, but will anything with eau fraiche written on the bottle? Yes, it’s got the blast of citrus to be expected, lemon, lime, grapefruit, pretty much everything except Sprite and, yes, I guess it is fresh and that’s not such a bad thing after all. But underneath it all, there’s something just a little bit skanky that holds my interest and keeps me coming back for more. As the citrus burns off, there’s jasmine bringing in the funk and just enough musk to take it on home. Clean and fresh just like a summer day should be, but enough extra there to remind you how much fun summers nights can be, too.

My go-to beach scent has become Estee Lauder’s Azuree and if anyone understands the necessity of a fragrance to wear to the beach, I’m sure it’s you, dear readers. It smells like lounging by the pool in the Poconos in the 1960s, drinking sloe gin fizzes and smoking cigarettes, playing canasta with old ladies. And I mean that in a good way. It was love at first sniff. Every sunny Sunday finds me unfolding my beach chair, grabbing a book, and reeking of Azuree. The citrus business covers the obligatory summer stuff and all that glorious leather satisfies the jones I’ve had for that as of late. Nothing beats getting a whiff of it when I’m putting on my shirt and loading up my truck after a lazy, leisurely day at the ocean and just so you know, it layers quite nicely with sunscreen.

Off topic somewhat, but related to beach reads, I’ve hit some good stuff lately. I usually have a theme for my summer reading, be it Jane Austen or true crime or Patricia Highsmith, as the last few summers have run. This year I decided to lighten things up a bit and I’ve gone for humor. Chelsea Handler has become my new celebrity obsession and her books are funny as hell. My Horizontal Life details her history of one night stands and Are You There Vodka, It’s Me Chelsea? continues with all the absurd details of a sharp, shrewd comic with a very crazy life. To make the summer even sweeter, David Sedaris has a new book out, When You Are Engulfed in Flames and, as is usual with his stuff, I find myself laughing out loud with strangers looking around to see who the crazy man cackling is. I love it. Anybody know of anything else good for a laugh?

So I latch on to whatever I can to survive the sticky chaos of this season. I try to think it through and make smart choices, but sometimes I just gotta do what I love. So if you’re walking along the coast one day and you find yourself thinking, “My God, someone reeks.” Just know that it’s Matt and he’s been in the Muscs Kublai Khan or the Kouros or the Eau d’Hermes, remembering just how impatient and impractical he can be. And pray for fall to hurry and arrive.

 By Matt

(Hey, folks — we’re kicking back for Memorial Day weekend, in our winter coats most likely, given the current temperature. Please welcome regular commenter Matt for this Friday’s guest post! Enjoy the scrolldown…)

Thank God I’m easy. I’m at that acquisitive stage of perfume obsession where I want to smell, wear, and buy just about everything. Niche, drugstore, designer, pretty much anything goes as long as it’s not Acqua di Gio. Not that I have anything against that scent, honestly; simply everyone in my town wears it. Shopping here is limited and I could just never forgive myself for wearing Unforgivable. I want to stand out a bit and I really don’t mind standing out by smelling like the biggest skank in town. Everybody loves a slut, right?

Yes, I’ve learned so much in the past year, reading the blogs, seeing what people think, comparing this, that, and the other. But the biggest sermon the blogs and boards seem to preach is to never buy unsniffed and it’s the edict I manage to ignore the most. Maybe it’s the willful rebel in me, or just the greedy consumer I am. Someone just this week called me the Poster Boy for Capitalism, but really, aren’t we all just trying to keep the economy going? I am proud to say that I’ve yet to make a single unsniffed purchased based on The Guide; I’m not saying I won’t, it just hasn’t happened yet. Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez aren’t my devilish enablers; it’s March the Maleficent and Patty the Priestess of Purchases and dear, dear Lee (don’t we miss him?) and the rest of you merry band of rogues who lead me into temptation, much to the chagrin of my student loan lender and the delight of my credit card company. I buy unsniffed all the time. But it’s not my fault.

The crazy thing is, I’ve never regretted a single unsniffed purchase and I’ve made some crazy ones. That’s why I thank the good Lord that I’m easy. ‘Cause y’all have led me down some dirty back roads and I’ve loved every minute of it. I can’t imagine being without any of these bottles I’ve bought just because y’all stirred up a hunch in the base of my filthy little brain.

First and foremost, Yatagan–and I think a whole bunch of you are responsible for this one. First spray, I smelled nothing but beef stew. Second go round, “Dude, who’da thunk of using CELERY in a fragrance.” Third time’s a charm and I was ready to destroy the world. I loved it from then on and it’s now what I wear when I plan on taking sh!t from no one. Thanks to you all; I can’t imagine life without it.

It only gets worse. CB Musk Reinvention. Full bottle purchase, unsniffed. I loved it from the very first whiff. Thank you very much, March. You’re a prophet of skank and I owe you my soul if I ever get it back from the devil. I also need to thank tmp00 from PST for his glowing words as well on this one. Like him I wear it alone, I layer it with Yatagan, as well as just about every other scent I own. Just whenever I want to dirty things up. I’ve never received a single compliment on this fragrance and I simply don’t care. The first time my bf smelled this one, he asked me never to wear it again. You know, that’s only gonna make me wear it more.

Success with these two purchases and I felt like I could never go wrong. I couldn’t and I didn’t. Patty sold me on Bvlgari Black and I knew to expect something weird, but I never really knew to expect a weirdness that worked so well on me. I actually do get a lot of compliments on this and it’s usually from people who have no interest whatsoever in fragrance. People might not have perfume, but we’ve all got tires, right?

Andy Tauer. I’m not gonna carry on too much because I always end up gushing like a giddy school girl. But I’ve got full bottles of all his stuff except Orris (damn limited editions, I’m always a day late and a dollar short). Pretty much all of those were ordered unsniffed thanks to some beautifully written reviews by Marina at PST, particularly L’Air du Desert Marocain and Lonestar Memories (Scentzilla’s review also helped sell me on this one). The new incense ones I did win samples of and Maroc I hesitated with my sample because of the “pour elle,” but I swear that’ll never stop me again. I love them all and he’s the only perfumer I’d buy unsniffed just because of the name on the bottle.

Did I mention Jicky? In the extrait? Full bottle purchase, again, unsniffed, and that one wasn’t cheap, my friends. I actually trembled a little when I hit the Complete Purchase button with that. March again with this one, but I’d grown to trust her since I felt she’d pegged the inner workings of my head and heart. My only complaint with this one is the bottle and stopper. It’s kinda cumbersome for a guy with clumsy fingers and no coordination or grace. I just decant it into a spray bottle and spritz away. See, I told you I’m a slut. I know I should be ashamed, but it’s just too darn fun.

Sometimes I throw an extra unsniffed bottle in my shopping cart just to get free shipping. I’m an etailer’s dream come true. Dior Homme I got just for that reason. Habit Rouge, it was Guerlain and I’d had two glasses of wine. Cartier Declaration–Lee loves it so it had to be good. There’s a bunch more, but I gotta stop; one should always hold a little something back, it keeps ‘em wanting more. A slut’s credo if there ever was one.

But I keep on doing it. Luckily enough, I ain’t been let down yet. Surely a day of disappointment will come, but I’m not afraid. I know if I end up with something I hate, odds are, one of you scoundrels will be more than willing to give it a happy home, a loving haven for a rescued perfume, ’cause at the end of the day, you’re all just freaks like me. And I thank you for it from the bottom of my wicked little heart.

beefcake photo: Abercrombie.com