Forceful, yet knowing when not to push too hard. Tell them whatever they would like to hear. The best salesgirl is a liar. The best salesgirl talks a fast game, and isn’t afraid to switch tactics when it isn’t working. The best salesgirl sizes up the customer and feeds their ego.
would you like to try?
you won’t regret it.
just a second of your time.
you look lovely today.
it’s a lovely scent
a brilliant fragrance
brilliant brilliant
now take a deep breath
let it draw you in
it’s a bit fruity, isn’t it?
flowery
so pretty and so French
musky
peppery
quite sensual don’t you think
warm and spicy and Oriental
an elixir for the senses
it’s a greener note
do you smell the licorice?
you just want to eat it don’t you?
and guess what? no calories!
but if you really want it to last you’re going to have to layer it you know
oh, you must layer it
do you layer?
first the shower gel
then the soufflé
feel that how creamy indulgent
indulge yourself
then the perfume
make sure to spray it on your errr-ahh-jenus zones
it will never leave you
it will linger with you all day
when he smells this he will remember you
always
in another country
years later
it will be your signature scent
it isn’t just a perfume but an identity.
a woman’s pure essence
found in an oval-shaped bottle
mimicking her curves
for the woman who
wants love
is playful
is sexy
wants it all
has a strong sense of self
it’s so classic!
timeless!
it’s so modern!
the embodiment of
femininity
old-fashioned glamour
audrey
katharine
sophia
marilyn
this is the fragrance for the
trendsetter
the intellectual
the person who loves beauty
who loves little children
who loves animals
sweet things
sex
who loves to fall in love
who wants to be young
who wants to be sophisticated
who wants to be noticed
across a room but not smelled, more like sensed
It was all porn for impressionable women. Beyond the talk of top velvety notes and powdery cores and layering. The fairytale drivel, the poisonous romance narratives. Peddling in clichés. A love potion of sweet temptation. A fantasy of indulgence. Cue the symphony, the sunset as the backdrop for lovers. Or perhaps you’d like an essence more mysterious. The kind that’s subtle. That lingers in the room after the lady has left. A passing moment. A memory. A story.
It comes in a bottle and it tells a story. Put it on my Visa.
You speak like a green girl, unsifted in such perilous circumstance.
— Polonius to Ophelia in Hamlet
So, I took another pregnancy test. Natalie leans in closer to Ruth, so close that Ruth can see her black lacy bra. Negative, thank heavens. Her breath smells like tuna. Every day at 1pm Natalie goes to the sandwich place across the road, to get triangles of mushy wheat bread with ominous fillings. Half-off between 1pm and 2pm. Egg pickle with rocket, egg mayo with rocket, tuna mayo with rocket, prawn mayo with rocket. Ruth fights the urge not to gag. Even though they are alone in the employee room, Natalie is practically sitting on Ruth’s lap. Ruth keeps attempting to pry herself away, although bit by bit, so as not to appear rude. The passivity of the green girl masquerades as politeness.
Aren’t you on the shot? Ruth asks. By now she is intimately acquainted with Natalie’s reproductive regime (which usually required total-if-not-complete abstinence). Natalie’s voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. She leans in closer, her pendulous breasts pressing against Ruth’s arm. Her chest powdered with scented silver glitter. Yes, but my hubby and I had sex, lower whisper, two weeks ago and I haven’t gotten my thing yet. Ruth has seen Natalie’s husband come to collect her from work, a goofy tower of Englishness. Are you late? No, no, not yet. I just get soooo scared. If I got pregnant I would absolutely die. Just shrivel up. Her
would you like to try?
you won’t regret it.
just a second of your time.
you look lovely today.
it’s a lovely scent
a brilliant fragrance
brilliant brilliant
now take a deep breath
let it draw you in
it’s a bit fruity, isn’t it?
flowery
so pretty and so French
musky
peppery
quite sensual don’t you think
warm and spicy and Oriental
an elixir for the senses
it’s a greener note
do you smell the licorice?
you just want to eat it don’t you?
and guess what? no calories!
but if you really want it to last you’re going to have to layer it you know
oh, you must layer it
do you layer?
first the shower gel
then the soufflé
feel that how creamy indulgent
indulge yourself
then the perfume
make sure to spray it on your errr-ahh-jenus zones
it will never leave you
it will linger with you all day
when he smells this he will remember you
always
in another country
years later
it will be your signature scent
it isn’t just a perfume but an identity.
a woman’s pure essence
found in an oval-shaped bottle
mimicking her curves
for the woman who
wants love
is playful
is sexy
wants it all
has a strong sense of self
it’s so classic!
timeless!
it’s so modern!
the embodiment of
femininity
old-fashioned glamour
audrey
katharine
sophia
marilyn
this is the fragrance for the
trendsetter
the intellectual
the person who loves beauty
who loves little children
who loves animals
sweet things
sex
who loves to fall in love
who wants to be young
who wants to be sophisticated
who wants to be noticed
across a room but not smelled, more like sensed
It was all porn for impressionable women. Beyond the talk of top velvety notes and powdery cores and layering. The fairytale drivel, the poisonous romance narratives. Peddling in clichés. A love potion of sweet temptation. A fantasy of indulgence. Cue the symphony, the sunset as the backdrop for lovers. Or perhaps you’d like an essence more mysterious. The kind that’s subtle. That lingers in the room after the lady has left. A passing moment. A memory. A story.
It comes in a bottle and it tells a story. Put it on my Visa.
You speak like a green girl, unsifted in such perilous circumstance.
— Polonius to Ophelia in Hamlet
So, I took another pregnancy test. Natalie leans in closer to Ruth, so close that Ruth can see her black lacy bra. Negative, thank heavens. Her breath smells like tuna. Every day at 1pm Natalie goes to the sandwich place across the road, to get triangles of mushy wheat bread with ominous fillings. Half-off between 1pm and 2pm. Egg pickle with rocket, egg mayo with rocket, tuna mayo with rocket, prawn mayo with rocket. Ruth fights the urge not to gag. Even though they are alone in the employee room, Natalie is practically sitting on Ruth’s lap. Ruth keeps attempting to pry herself away, although bit by bit, so as not to appear rude. The passivity of the green girl masquerades as politeness.
Aren’t you on the shot? Ruth asks. By now she is intimately acquainted with Natalie’s reproductive regime (which usually required total-if-not-complete abstinence). Natalie’s voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. She leans in closer, her pendulous breasts pressing against Ruth’s arm. Her chest powdered with scented silver glitter. Yes, but my hubby and I had sex, lower whisper, two weeks ago and I haven’t gotten my thing yet. Ruth has seen Natalie’s husband come to collect her from work, a goofy tower of Englishness. Are you late? No, no, not yet. I just get soooo scared. If I got pregnant I would absolutely die. Just shrivel up. Her
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