Jean Nate after bath splash!

Yesterday I opened up a bottle of Jean Nate After Bath Splash (with no exclamation mark, but there's one in my mind) at the drugstore (secretly, of course) out of curiosity. I haven’t smelled that stuff for so many years I don’t want to divulge the number. I expected to recoil or something similarly extreme. NO! I admit it: I LOVED it. It smelled like Jean Nate (well, it was Jean Nate, after all), the stuff I doused myself with when I was just hitting puberty. . .and as any scent does, it brought me back. I can picture the bathroom in my parents’ house, a place I haven’t been able to recall with that much clarity (nor would I want to. . .) screw niche snobbery – it smells fantastic to me. BUT, would I wear it? I doubt it. Now, why is that? I almost want to buy a bottle to find out if that is indeed true.

Note: I spent way too much of my time trying to find an old Jean Nate ad on the web. This scent was ubiquitous; so why aren't I finding any old ads? Instead, I chose this image. Yes, I lived through this time period. Thank goodness my visual memory is so terrible.

This pic reminded me of a sleep over party I went to in early Junior High School. One girl had just gotten a hot roller set and we were playing around with it. Perhaps I shouldn't say "we", for I wanted nothing to do with the whole endeavor. This may have been the nail in the coffin that caused me to become the weirdo teenager that I was. I had no idea what these girls were talking about and why they were talking about it (boys, boys, boys, makeup, hair, boys. . .) I would have preferred to talk about music and science fiction. I was a baby hipster nerd. Too bad for me, the hipster nerd phenomenon didn't happen until I had become an adult.