A couple of girlfriends and I had a sort-of brunch (very quick, as it was a weekday—name two people who ‘brunch’ on office hours and I’ll hand you four. Hah!) and for some un-academic reason, our conversation led to what ‘wiffs’ we wear:
C: Kiehl’s, and its giving me a headache. I still wear it though.
L: You should borrow Rica’s scent—its called whiteflower. No headaches for you.
(well! Someone’s been making fun of my ‘auntie’ smell)
F:Rica, I read your blog, and tried NR. Geez—was it a deodoriser?
Me (mgaputangina nyo): My sister said ‘hospital’, or ‘alcohol’. But it really depends on chemical reaction. The NR has musk, so it takes time to settle.
F: Oh. Well, no way am I getting one.
Me: You shouldn’t (smiles warily). Whats your scent?
F: None, I dont wear any. I smell like me.
(everyone snickers)
G: I dont know why some people like wearing perfumes.
C: Ah, is this an annex to your ‘i dont shave my armpit hairs’ philosophy?
L, F: (to G) you dont??
G: The French dont. Its a cosmopolitan thing (note: everyone looked bewildered)...and whats the point? Does it bother you?
C: Well, yeah...I mean, no offence to you as a person, but make sure I dont see it. Ever.
Me: Okay...smelly, hairy, migraine and bitchy—off you go, you have work to do. Its a Friday, goodnessake—dont have anything else to do, aside from –brunch?
No racial stereotypes will be supported by this blog (entry), so no further queries such as ‘kababayan ba ito?’ or ‘anong lahi’? will be entertained. Then again, I just shot myself. In the head.
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