A Feline Obsession

All these years we have been lead to believe that it is Axe, the deodorant that makes women lose reason and maul decidedly ugly men, with their olfactory senses driving them to insanity. Calvin Klein’s Obsession, which was launched way back in 1986, promises you way beyond just hot-looking chicks. Just a generous spray and you will have tom cat, smelly cat, this cat, that cat and a stray jaguar or two (if they are visiting your neighbourhood) following you around in a mesmerized stupor. Just imagine this spectacle, you- the Pied Piper of Hamlyn with a bunch of frenzied cats? Way hotter than an Eva Mendes writhing and rolling around in the dirt in her Calvin Kleins or a Brooke Shields purring, Nothing comes between me and my Calvins.

In case you are thinking that Obsession’s feline charm is a figment of my fertile imagination, I’d like to clarify that this startling find is actually backed by hard core research. Researchers at the Wildlife Conservation Society’s Bronx Zoo, New York experimented with a range of different fragrances and how two cheetahs reacted to them. The results left barely a whiff of a doubt. Estée Lauder’s Gorgeous occupied the cheetahs on average for just two seconds. Revlon’s Charlie managed 15.5 seconds. Nina Ricci’s L’Air du Temps took it up to 10.4 minutes. But the musky Obsession for Men triumphed: To their surprise the cats spent more than 11 minutes sniffing and nuzzling up to a tree sprayed with CK’s top selling fragrance. Unfortunately the tree did not reciprocate. So what if we can’t save our tigers and cheetahs, we can at least keep them happy.


Do you realize what a breakthrough it is? Men can now brag about their female and feline followers. Dahling, would you terribly mind having my boss for lunch? Just a couple of the big cats on the backseat of your car and no cop will dare challan you. Walk into the passport office with your striped charmer and the queues will disappear magically. Girls, there’s good news for you as well. Tired of your guy? Just gift him an all expenses paid trip to Kruger and sneak in a bottle of Obsession in his bag.

For me it’s even better news: no more futile safaris to the Jim Corbett National Park, where after a long dusty ride through the wild jungles you are proudly shown Neelagais, Elephants, a stray owl or two, while you impatiently scan the horizon for the reclusive tiger. For sweet consolation you are taken to a sinister looking spot and shown tiger poop with a grim “Damn you missed the tiger by a whisker”. You take a few pictures and with a resigned sigh try to dust off the layer of dust that has accumulated on your one upon a time white pair of jeans.

But those days are history now. I now have my bottle of Obsession. Just a splash and I’ll have camera shy, existent, non-existent tigers giving me a frenzied chase. Nothing can come between me and my cats, I can now purr seductively. Or I will have irrefutable proof that our Forest reserves do not have tigers, just fake tiger poop. It’s a win-win situation.