Op-Ed: You Smell Like a Huntsman GSR

Every time I meet with my friend Vina (W '27), I smell something a little off yet so common, a little different yet so usual, a little off yet so familiar. I had been pondering for the longest time, what could it be? YSL Libre? Diptyque Orpheon? Black Opium Intense?! No. 

It’s a bitter-sour smell, a weird mix of insecurity and egocentrism, slyness and greed, hypocritical politeness and hate for the poor… but I could never quite put my finger on it. 

As this semester started, I thought: why not take a Wharton class? Let’s see what this is all about. On the first day of class, as I walked into Huntsman for the first time ever, I felt my cilia tingle, my nose twitch, and the wheels in my brain turn: I know this smell, what is it? Is Vina (W '27) here? Late to class, I brushed the thought away and tried my hardest to find my way through this building. But, the smell interrupted my focus, almost perforating my mind through my nostrils. I decided to give in and finally find an answer to my question: What perfume does Vina (W '27) wear?

Walking past rows of GSRs and classrooms, I found my answer. Vina (W '27) smelled like a Huntsman GSR.