Buoyed by the overwhelmingly positive reaction to his McCartney blog on this site, the noted Brooklyn psychiatrist Dr Willy Mandelbaum has asked me to once again be a conduit for his insightful thoughts on celebrity culture. This piece, from a couple of years ago, addresses the sniffy subject of celebrity-endorsed fragrances…

“What can I tell ya? It’s unforgivable. No, really, it is. Have you seen that commercial? My God, what’s wrong with that guy? There he is, moody-looking fella, surrounded by women with less clothing than my own granddaughters should wear at birth, and he keeps askin’ ‘Do ya love me? Do ya love me?’. Just to sell some stinky water. Yeah, that’s right – it’s Unforgivable.

“‘Do ya love me? Do ya love me?’ Sweet Fancy Moses, guy, scratch a different record! Dr Willy’s got a question of his own: Who the hell are ya? It says Sean John on the scent bottle – Bernice tells me ‘scent’ is what it’s called these days, although I’ve always associated that word with the spray from a skunk’s ass. Pepe Le Pew was a big cartoon in my day.

“But, I digress…

“This Sean John guy on the TV kinda looks like that P-Diddy fella. Used to be Puffy, I’m told. But he also calls himself Coombs, at least when he has to go to court, which appears to be more often than most respectable folk deem necessary. Now, usually Dr Willy has no problem dealin’ with multiple personalities – ‘specially when he can get away with billin’ two of ‘em for the same session – but Sean John is a bigger plate of spaghetti. I think I detect a God complex, delusions of grandeur, childhood abandonment compensatory and self-denial superiority issues. Basically, the kind of patient that has less reputable doctors than the Mandelbaums of this world recommending prolonged therapy, while sneaking a peak at next spring’s yacht catalogue.

“Lemme tell ya, I thought that narcissistic carny David Blaine was up his own ass before I caught Sean John lovin’ himself on the tube. But in the interests of research, I took a quick whiff of Unforgivable, and it is like nothing else I have ever subjected my nose to in 70-odd years of inhalin’. Actually, that’s not strictly true. When I was a boy in the old neighbourhood I remember my pop playing pinochle with a pawnbroker, and he kinda smelled like that when he was cleanin’ silver. He always had the good sense to wear thick gloves, though, he sure as hell didn’t dab it on his neck, ferchrissake.

“But, hey! This Sean guy ain’t an isolated case. J-Lo’s got one called Glow (probably somethin’ pretty strong to cloak the stench of that disastrous old fragrance of hers, Afflecktion), Britney’s got somethin’ called Curious – and no, doll, I ain’t. Then there’s that gal from the show about the women who like to do it between extended bouts of shoe-shoppin’…, what’s her name…? Sarah Parker Fountain Pen, somethin’ like that. She’s hawkin’ something called Lovely. Now, Willy ain’t no misogynist, can’t afford to be in my line o’ work ’cause crazy chicks got checkbooks too, but I can’t get round the irony of a perfume called Lovely bein’ promoted by a woman with all the feminine allure of the Child Catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

“Not that any of this is a new phenomenon, y’understand. In the 1930s, Schiaparelli designed a bottle to look like Mae West’s figure. In the 1950s, Givenchy created a scent for Audrey Hepburn. In the early 1980s, Joan Collins and Linda Evans promoted fragrances linked to that dumb show they were on. And in 1987, Elizabeth Taylor’s White Diamonds became the most successful celebrity smell of all time, with more than $1 billion in sales. I told ya, Willy does his research. I ain’t just some old guy mouthin’ off over nothin’.

“But think twice before ya do yer Christmas shoppin’. Think twice before bustin’ a wallet for a product which, ounce for ounce, could set you back more than an eight-ball. Whaddeva ya do, don’t buy yer loved one scent AND an eight-ball. They won’t be able to smell the first after they’ve worked their way through half of the second.

“For the record, I have never bought the lovely Bernice beautifyin’ doohickies, but she’s been smellin’ the same sweet way since we first hooked up in ’57. Don’t think anyone famous is makin’ money out of it, but if they were it would probably be called somethin’ like Calamity… By Doris Day. Men’s fragrances from the period, I dunno. Closet… By Montgomery Clift? Heh, heh, heh – look, everybody, Willy’s made himself laugh!

“Nah, the way you wanna smell is somethin’ you gotta nail for yerself, so I kinda take a different route when pickin’ up a gift for Bernice. I think this year it’s gonna be a set of drill bits. I’ll put ‘em in one o’ those nice blue Tiffany boxes, though. I’ve always been a romantic fella.

“That’s the way Willy sees it. Our time is up for today.”