Dallas Cowboy Joseph Randle, the shoplifting of Gucci Guilty Black, and the gods of irony

Wrong cologne and wrong underwear, but amusing nonetheless...

Wrong cologne and wrong underwear, but amusing nonetheless...

And there we were, thinking 'stealing' was a term from baseball… Well, it’s old news by now that Dallas Cowboys running back Joseph Randle - a man whose base salary is said to be $495,000 per year, excluding his signing bonus - was arrested for shoplifting back in October 2014. 

Of course, as enthusiasts of men’s cologne and eau de toilette, we were naturally interested in the story since it seems Mr. Randle shoplifted some men’s fragrance: specifically, a tester bottle of Gucci Guilty Black Pour Homme, plus some black Polo underpants.

It seems as if the irony and humour of the story weren't lost on the Internet public – or on us, for that matter…  Here’s a mixture of our take on the incident and that of the good people of the world of Google…

First up, the obvious: he got caught stealing Gucci Guilty… no need to comment on that, except to say that the gods of irony were on form that day…

Joseph Randle Gucci meme

Second, if you read our article about Gucci Guilty Black Pour Homme (just click the green link), you’ll find that in our view, it smells like generic shower gel: so no doubt Randle wanted to make a clean getaway. 

That said, some have suggested he pooped his pants at the prospect of committing a misdemeanor Class B theft, which is why he got new briefs and some cologne.  Certainly new underwear is a good idea when you’re caught with your pants down like that… and he’ll need a brief when this comes to court, we suspect.

The new Seakhawks defense

The new Seakhawks defense

Still, at least the Frisco Police Department performed well: someone suggested the Seattle Seahawks should employ them as defense, given that Randle couldn’t outrun them.  And we always thought it was the Oilers who once trained in Huntsville, TX, back in the 1970s, but maybe Randle will be doing his training there soon, too. Apparently, Randle is from Wichita, KS – but we bet he wishes he was from Dodge.

So why did a man earning that kind of salary indulge in shoplifting when he could easily buy these things himself?

Well, perhaps the shame of actually buying a nasty-smelling cologne like Gucci Guilty Black drove him to this, ahem, brief lapse of bad behaviour? Another theory is that it was a hazing ritual – he had to do it because the other guys on the team put him up to it.  Or he was just plain stupid (he is said to have requested a $100 massage at the police station while being booked, and then wondered out loud if his arrest would make the news - see the booking video here). 

Or, so another theory goes, it was to rid himself of the smell of his mistress's scent and his own soiled undies (which would be somewhat odd as he was apparently with his girlfriend and child at the time…).  

Credit: www.phenry.org

Credit: www.phenry.org

While Randle might have been trying to get rid of his underwear, the Cowboys for one won’t get rid of him for this, of course: although we do hear the Steelers are interested in him...  Anyway, at least his stay in custody was a brief one.  Just such a shame he washed his dirty linen in public like that.

Frozen crab legs

Anyway, and finally, we shouldn’t overreact: at least he didn’t steal, umm, frozen crab legs, say.  And of course, the biggest joke of all is that to somehow undo his egregious act, Randle was promptly signed up to promote MeUndies, a niche manufacturer of underpants. That just takes the biscuit. Or takes the cologne bottle.  Or the Polo underpants.  Whichever.

 

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

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Is this Creed Green Irish Tweed sample card a fake?

This one's real...

This one's real...

It's a sort of time-honoured tradition among cologne afficionados, it seems, to have an opinion on fake Creed Green Irish Tweed. We'll just pick one example here to illustrate the point, but it's just one of many across blogs and discussion boards all over the net.

The experts will discuss labelling, atomisers, flask design, the embossed packaging, and the scent itself.  It's not a new topic.

But what's the story with these sample cards?  They seem to be offered everywhere: we can find them on eBay, and even in far-flung China on TaoBao.  Just look at this:

Creed Green Irish Tweed fake sample card
From TaoBao...and yes, we know it's been turned through 90 degrees...

From TaoBao...and yes, we know it's been turned through 90 degrees...

We cannot comment on the fragrance samples themselves: they may well be genuine.  But the ubiquitous accompanying cards? They are very odd indeed...

franglais

Why do we say that? Well, the wording looks like a load of old hogwash. Creed may now be a French company, but to judge from their English-language affiliate websites (here and here), and given what an exclusive brand Creed now is, you wouldn't expect them to produce a Franglais text like this.

Let's go through the details on the card:

fortune teller crystal ball

- 'Queen of England Victoria' - yes, Victoria was indeed Queen of England but nobody ever refers to her as 'Queen of England Victoria'.  She's just 'Queen Victoria'.  If you don't believe us, try Googling that exact phrase ("Queen of England Victoria") in inverted commas: when we try it, all we get are a series of dubious links to astrology websites.

- 'King Georges IV' - OK, so 'George' becomes 'Georges' in French, and Creed are a French company, so that's why they refer to the Prince Regent as 'Georges IV', right? Wrong!  Just check the French Wikipedia entry for him: even in French, he's mostly referred to as 'George IV', except in about four places in what is a very long article. 

They, at least, know what 'Austria-Hungaria' is...

They, at least, know what 'Austria-Hungaria' is...

- 'Austria-Hungaria' - where's that? I mean, we've heard of Austria-Hungary (or Autriche-Hongrie if we're still meant to be talking French), or even the Austro-Hungarian Empire... but never 'Austria-Hungaria'.  Again, try Googling that and you'll find it's the way you say 'Austria-Hungary' in... Swahili.

So that's weird for a start: why would a high-end concern like Creed be unable to write a proper text in English and then not bother to get it proof-read? It's not exactly a fly-by-night operation being run by Messieurs Creed over there...

George IV: Not popular... but apparently he smelt great...

George IV: Not popular... but apparently he smelt great...

And then there is the curious choice of historical figureheads listed on the card: 

Nothing wrong with mentioning Queen Victoria, of course: she's generally highly thought of.   But George IV, the Prince Regent? A dissolute, womanizing man who diminished the prestige of the British monarchy, a spendthrift who wasted extravagant sums satisfying his own desires? Maybe whoever wrote the card meant George III (Creed themselves refer to him as a customer on their own websites), but got his son instead by mistake. 

And then again, Nicholas II of Russia? The Tsar oversaw the decline of imperial Russia from great power to total collapse and the takeover by the Bolsheviks.  He lost the Russo-Japanese War, and presided over anti-Semitic pogroms, the murder of his political enemies and Russia's disastrous involvement in World War I, before dying in a hail of Bolshevik bullets along with his family. (He's not mentioned on the Creed websites, we might add.)

Franz-Josef and Eugenie: An undeniably well-groomed couple but cursed with tragedy

Franz-Josef and Eugenie: An undeniably well-groomed couple but cursed with tragedy

How about Napoleon III? He was the loser of the Franco-Prussian War.  Emperor Franz-Josef and Empress Eugenie? The Empress was murdered by an anarchist, and Franz-Josef of course was the uncle of Franz-Ferdinand, whose murder in Sarajevo triggered World War I.  Quite apart from the tragedy of leading his Empire into a war that they would ultimately lose, Franz-Josef also faced the personal tragedies of his brother Maximilian being executed in Mexico, and his son committing suicide.

OK, in fairness, Creed themselves also refer to Napoleon III and Emperor Franz-Josef in their potted histories (and also, curiously enough, Edward VIII, who scandalously abdicated the British throne in order to marry a divorcée, Wallis Simpson).  

Anyway, while questioning the authenticity of the sample cards (and by the way, one does wonder why anyone is selling 4 year old cologne (1760 plus 250 years = 2010), but each to his own...), we suppose we're also making a comment about Creed's choice of historical celebrities to boost their brand: the point of this potted history lesson is to show that a lot of them were brutes, wasters, failures, mad, bad or just plain cursed.

Finally, of course, there is some irony here: after all, the very origins of the House of Creed are supposedly shrouded in mystery, and some have even cast aspersions on the official statements made about the company's history (see just one example here).

If the allegations about Creed's fake history are valid, they can't complain about fake sample cards, can they, really? 

To shop for real, non-fake Green Irish Tweed, check out the latest price on Amazon here!

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