Copper Skies (Kerosene)

When you hear the name "Copper Skies," you think of an autumnal dusk, with the final rays of sunlight filtering through rows of apple trees, brushing their fruit with fingers of crimson and gold. You think of how rich the woodlands smell in October, the one time of year when even the dirt wears its own brand of perfume, and the leaves rustle underfoot. The sky can't help but reflect all the warm colors, the desiccating wilderness, the collective smell of cider and campfires floating through the air, wrapping every nose in its embrace. Such is the magic this name conjures.

Copper Skies is the name of John Pegg's fragrance, and I think it's a blasphemy. October is like a holy month to me (although I dislike Halloween immensely). It's a very special time of year. I reconnect with nature, photographing foliage during leisurely walks along Connecticut trails, inhaling with each step the blissful aromas of dried leaves, cracked tree bark, oily pine needles, and countless other subtle, beautiful things. Copper Skies smells like none of it. Copper Skies forfeits October's romance, favoring instead a sinus-searing cacophony of cresylic odors, ranging from Pine-Sol cleaner, to clove-infused isopropyl alcohol, to just plain alcohol. As it dries-down, the clove note deflates and flattens, dominating the composition in a lonely, confused sort of manner, like a bit player that had an accompanying ensemble, but walked out on stage alone after missing its cue. Which doesn't mean it can't get any worse - it does. About ninety minutes into wear, a stinky analog of honey attempts to switch the composition into an oriental amber, but it's like mixing old, stiff, dehydrated honey with toilet cleaner. It's awful.

If you doubt that this is an awful fragrance, I encourage you to wear it for yourself, and take the day to observe as an object lesson just how polite and full of shit your family, friends, and coworkers can be when faced with an abysmal perfume. In my case, people weren't even that polite. I had someone wrinkle their nose when they smelled it on me and say, "Oh god, no. That's a chick repellent." I wholeheartedly agree with her. Copper Skies is a chick repellent. Bear in mind that I don't wear fragrance to attract women. But I am cognizant of fragrances repelling women, and people in general. This one seems to have that effect. In closing, I will say this: John Pegg has created nine fragrances. I have only worn two of them. Therefore, I cannot say that he is a bad perfumer. Not yet, anyway.

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