The unmistakable smell of India - DKNY to the rescue

We'd already dropped close to four grand on flights to and from Anakara plus hotel reservations, so when we realized the tickets we'd booked put us in Delhi's international transit lounge for twelve hours each way and the alternate option of travelling through Doha would have added another thousand dollars at least, we thought for the sake of a bit of cost-savings we could handle it. From the moment we stepped off the plane in Delhi, breathing in that familiar smell of fresh-baked yuck that India is permeated with we knew it was a choice we would come to regret.

Sitting in the airport, where modernity is just starting to eke it's way into existence, we looked around at the few other tourists smiling and perfectly happy to be there for hours on end and understood that the charm of India has been lost on us entirely, forever.
We made a pact that day never to return and I dashed off to the duty free to spritz myself with all manner of liquid couture in an attempt at reclaiming my olfactories.

I picked up a bottle of Gucci, Envy Me - my current favorite fragrance and sprayed away until I was a walking cloud of perfume. Remembering that Hamid was sitting alone on a bench that smelled all too strongly of the hundreds of pairs of dirty feet that had been propped up there over time I picked up a bottle of DKNY Delicious for men and breathed it in. It was so truly the definition of delicious that I reached for the girly version and felt as if I'd died and gone to heaven. Whipping out the bank card, I invested a measly hundred on the Costco sized versions of each and made my way back to my darling who greeted me with desperate groans of stink-intensified boredom.

We spent the next couple of hours dousing ourselves in perfume and breathing through our sleeves.