Perfume makes me gag. I used to wear a lot of it and made other people sick and did not understand their problem. Now it is my compaint too. I get a lot of magazines because they are a cheap diversion. Mostly I look at the pictures. The cats like the subscription inserts which can be wadded up into toys.
Most of these journals include a number of perfume samples which even when removed from the magazine, leave their essence lingering, giving my perusal a vaguely nauseating effect above and beyond the effects of the drivel offered up as prose.
Strangely, all of the scents smell the same to me. I keep meaning to write a short story where a young woman commits suicide with one of these perfume inserts. She slashes her throat with a fatal paper cut. Live fast, die young, and leave a good smelling corpse, that kind of thing.