When you’re going through a break-up, sometimes you just want to get wild. You want to get out there, and go to the cluh, or even just walk down the street and give everybody whiplash. During such a time, you don’t want some pathetic scent for weaklings; you want something that’s so overbearing that it will dominate every elevator onto which you step, make everyone waiting in any line with you get a headache, and land you a Don Draper to go home and angrily fuck.

And that scent, my friends, is Bond No. 9 New York.

Now, if there are any perfume lovers out there in the audience, I might get booed off the computer, because Bond No. 9 is a very popular scent, particularly for ladies who like a sweet smell but want to have graduated from Bath and Body Works. But I’m sorry — Bond No. 9 has all the subtlety of a herd of elephants fleeing a Ringling Bros. casting call. It wallops you right in the face with so many scents all at once that it’s tough to know where to begin. There’s some sweet vanilla in there, sure, but it’s inextricably mixed with overwhelming patchouli, some sort of floral, and — from the perfume’s own website — “mandarin zest, spicy nutmeg, [and] blueberry accord.”

In other words, you will not go unnoticed. Happy rebounding.