So I'm fairly certain I've already shared with you my lovies my fanciful obsession of smelling like a man— (a.k.a. I jock all the bar soaps that list musk, cedar, and/or mint in their makings, I wear cologne with undertones of the same, and the sole means to my smelling anything resemblant to girly is hidden somewhere within the mystique of accompanying top notes in sage and jasmine.) Meet another obsession of mine that has been slowly increasing its potency in the back of my mind... the men's oxford. My plan in an ideal world of storage space is to dedicate half my walk-in to housing none but the glorious men's oxford in tones of creams and blues.
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