Jennifer Aniston was on Oprah yesterday. She’s on Ellen today. She was photographed arriving at a photo shoot yesterday for Smart Water. Jen of course is on heavy promotion right now for Just Go With It. And at the same time she’s also pimping the US release of her fragrance, now available online at Sephora and in store in March.

The “product” of Jennifer Aniston has always been Your Girl Friend Next Door. You can Chicken Soup with her. You can shout at the ocean with her. She will come to your pity party and be the last to leave. To smell like Jen, then, is to inhale the idea of all these things, as you drive your MiniVan/SUV/buggy around daydreaming about Carrie Bradshaw’s life, but only the version on TBS without the Swears.

So you can imagine the kind of thought that went into the formulation of Jen’s fragrance. She actually describes it quite well herself. It’s a quote a friend sent over this morning with the title “Aniston.Gag.”:

“I’ve always loved to combine different scents to come up with my own unique thing. One tradition I have with my friends is that when one of us gets married, we have a ton of fragrance oils and pretty bottles at the bachelorette party. Everyone puts a drop or two in a bottle for the bride and makes a wish, and the bride wears our creation on her wedding day.” (Source)

You already know what I think of the word “bachelorette”. Refuse to use. Like “fabulous”. Hate that word too. And I imagine at these fragrance parties, they throw the word “fabulous” around a LOT. Right before the Group Cry. Followed by the part where they pretend to not know how to order a dirty movie on the tv but manage to do it really quickly anyway and laugh bawdily at all the parts where the penis flops around.

This quote and the sentiment behind it is exactly the reason why Jacek, in his ignorance, will ask me when I come home from a friend’s house, whether or not we talked about tampons and traded maxi pads. He’s an idiot, yes. But it’s not like women don’t perpetuate that sh-t either.

Besides, those aren’t the kinds of parties Jen’s having at her house.


When Chelsea Handler comes over, it’s not perfume those girls are sniffing.

Photos from and