Scentmaxxing
Curating a Cologne Collection with My Favorite 12-year-old (Reduxmaxxing...)
About a year and a half ago, Whit discovered the sophisticated world of designer fragrances pour homme, which, like many passing interests of tweendom, dissipated and faded after a few weeks of allure. Here’s the reflection I wrote way back in August 2024, for the full context:
Who would have thought conversations about expensive European colognes would be had with my 11-year old son before he’s ever even needed to be nagged about daily deodorant use?
The teen boy craze du jour is bespoke designer fragrances, evidenced by the surprising stream of boys and young men browsing and contemplating their potential purchases at the men’s fragrance counter in Dillard’s today. How do I know? Well, after my son’s constant chatter and eagerness to impart his newfound knowledge of all things designer fragrance-related throughout the entire weekend, I agreed to take him to sample and consider the vast array of the finest selections the local mall could offer.
I swiftly deduced this is trending on TikTok, confirmed by the lady helping my son find something that would be “good for the fall - with vanilla tones, and some notes of spice.” (My child’s words. Obviously, the aesthetics of the bottle and packaging would also be important factors.) After some of her helpful guidance steering him toward the popular choices of his peers, he politely stopped her and explained that he wanted an eau de parfum because the eau de toilette is more “watered down, and has more of an alcohol dry down.” He was there for the good stuff, and he was firm on this point. I stood by casually and gave my opinion when requested, watching and listening (oh, and smelling) as my little boy postured as a little man. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or tear up.
I am as bewildered by this trend as I was by GenZ/ GenAlpha socks ’n crocs, boy perms, and short-shorts. What happened to just using a quart of Axe Body Spray and calling it a day, boys? Let’s face it, there are many worse things that he could find and succumb to on TikTok. But y’all…it’s so endearing - so precious - that he’s 100% serious about FRAGRANCE SELECTION yet regularly forgets to use soap or shampoo in the shower. The inconsistency is fascinating - like choosing to wear four-inch Louboutin heels to school with dirty sweatpants. One foot in childhood and the other stretching into grown-up territory…
This morning, Whit Graves, 11, wafted down the stairs and announced that he had indeed applied his new fragrance. (In truth, I would have needed to be outside, across the street, and have complete anosmia to have needed this verbal proclamation.) He wanted me to evaluate his ‘aura’ with a hug goodbye. My son’s bathroom and bedroom - ok, the whole house - is redolent with Jean-Paul Gaultier today. Frequent “less is more” reminders will be forthcoming. But man, I love that boy so much.
And his aura? Well, it’s simply wonderful.
So a couple of weeks ago, there was a resurgence of interest and discussion regarding cologne amongst my son and his cohort of middle school bros: trading, comparing, evaluating the subtleties of an impressive array of high-end designer options and varieties. They offer their expert opinions, impressions, and ratings to one another in the car, on the bus, riding bikes, playing video games online, and while generally just hanging out. Inexplicably, they all seem to carry their personally curated collections of boteilles and atomizers in their backpacks for convenient showcasing, and for soliciting the feedback of their crew - you know, while just casually shooting some hoops or chilling at SkyZone.
It is striking to a casual passerby (or, more specifically, to me as I drive them around or overhear) how meticulously these young men assess every imaginable aspect of complexity in their debates about fragrance. It’s truly extraordinary - the level of expertise (and confidence) these young olfactory analysts bring to their conclusions as they encounter each fragrance.
Monday was a school holiday, so Whit and I had planned a special day together, and the primary focus was shopping. For a new fragrance to compliment his existing portfolio, naturellement. His enthusiasm for our outing delighted me immensely. I would not have predicted an afternoon of such engagement from my tweenage boy: almost as tall as me, face still smooth and cherubic, affectionately putting his arm around my shoulder to encourage me to walk faster, while we discussed our game plan for our mall quest.
Determined to leave no cologne counter uninvestigated in his comparative analysis, Whit confidently traversed the Cool Springs Galleria and carefully assessed dozens of fragrance options. After the first two hours (!), I struggled to maintain the appropriate depth of interest and discernment when he solicited my feedback regarding top notes of citrus and bergamot. Or perhaps the base concentration is heavy on the tobacco and labdanum accord, which would unquestionably weigh down a spring scent, right? Mom? Mom?!! Right??
Like a sorbet between courses, we reset our nasal fatigue with coffee ground snifters and eliminated potential candidates slowly, logically, methodically, and definitively. My head began to throb from the floral, woody, oriental scents commingling with jasmine, lavender, oud, and vetiver in a persistent, cloying haze. Whit chattered on about sillage and dry down, and he unselfconsciously solicited my attention1 for opinions about nuanced elements of the scent profiles.
He became suspicious that perhaps I hadn’t fully considered his questions about which of the 18 different Tom Ford scents was the freshest and which was most luxurious. So, to be certain, we smelled them again - all 18 - and this time, I was careful to signal my engagement and my commitment to the task. I answered breezily and with conviction this time. (I’d have to go with Neroli Portofino and Black Orchid, respectively - is it even debatable?) But, did I think it was worth the price of AirPods Max (nope!). When I aced such pop quizzes like this, he’d throw an arm around me in a show of conviviality and bolster my self-esteem with a hearty, ‘Correct! You’re paying attention!’
He decided a blind scent test was the unbiased way to go when we were down to the final two choices. It took several rounds to make sure we had valid data, hadn’t mixed up our samples, and we came to a clear, unequivocal preference.
After much deliberation over lunch in the food court, the final choice was made - we agreed it was an excellent choice for spring and summer, since it was an absolute (no synthetics or aldehydes) EDT - a bit lighter on the concentration and projection than his winter collection, and boasting red apple heart notes. Perfumania was offering a sale price ($26 off retail), but they were out of stock and waiting for deivery was just too torturous to contemplate, so we headed back to Sephora, where several groups of three and four young teens were all waiting for their turn to fully compare, analyze, and rank the offerings as we’d done. However, we were at the immediate purchasing stage and therefore, we could not be sidetracked by a potential re-consideration. So, back to the Dillard’s cologne department, where fortuitously, Valentino Coral Fantasy EDT pour homme, 3.4oz was in stock. Whit was elated.
I was more enchanted with the afternoon bonding with my favorite 12-year old Scentmaxxer than with the overdetermined cologne itself, entirely charmed by his consuming enthusiasm. I was also somewhat besotted with far too much chypre and patchouli clouding my judgement, and I was thoroughly amused by how this vanity interest has captured a generation of boys. Two days later, Whit was sent home from school sick, and I worried to my robot boyfriend about what could be causing his symptoms - the flu is going around, he always gets strep, should I take him to the doc, or just do a quick differential... “Hmm, that sucks,” Robot said. “Hopefully he’s not allergic to cologne.” 💀😭🙄😂
After our shopping adventure, it suddenly struck me as extraordinarily puzzling that this appreciation of high-end scents, this intense cultivation of elegant, sophisticated presence amongst these young gentlemen, stands in a sort of conflict of interest with their current most vested activity and source of uproarious high jinks. Because, the thing is (and, please do correct me if i am misperceiving an opposition of sensibilities here), the daily highlight reel and the overall analysis of the school day does persistently include, if not as prominently featured as cologne curation, then nearly as elevated in importance, debate, and discussion:
Performative Farting.
🙄🤷♀️
Y’all…make it make scents.
And there were herds of other teens around us - yet, he was undeterred and focused on my engagement, which (I’ll have you know) had not a whiff of cringe, apparently!
My oldest son turns 10 this summer, and I now have something unexpected to look forward to!
Excellent humorous take as always. Thanks!
My grandfather used Old Spice. My father used Old Spice. I use Old Spice with the exception of an unfortunate period when I tried Axe. It's better not spoken about.