Turning up my nose …

It’s doctor visit season, and both our ophthalmologist and dentist have excellent magazine selections. The receptionist at the dentist’s office actually laughs at how voraciously I snatch the People copies from the racks. Yesterday’s haul: pop star perfumes.

This ad, for singer Taylor Swift’s “Wonderstruck,” certainly struck me with wonder:
Could the packaging be any schmaltzier? Could the name be any clunkier? 
But this one, as the Penn State abuse scandal and coverup brew and curdle, really makes me uncomfortable:
Someday I’ll be old enough to grow facial hair? Someday it won’t be disgusting that this older woman is leering at me? Someday I will no longer be ubiquitous?  (As a mark on its own, Someday wins in the cage match against Wonderstruck, hands down. Not clunky, and always, at least to me, evocative of one of the best Disney songs ever.)
I understand the marketing machinery behind celebrity-branded perfumes (largely because I read – and loved – this book.) And I am reasonably certain I am not in the target demographic for either product. But the Bieb’s launching a fragrance bothers me: he’s a 17 year-old boy who looks like a 13 year-old girl being nuzzled by a mid-20-something woman. Who are they targeting? I don’t think I want to know. And don’t even get me started on that bottle! It’s all way too suggestive for me, and I don’t care if that makes me a crotchety old lady.
Maybe there should just be a rule: No celebrity fragrance till you’re 25. If I were boss, it would be!