Alice Wyllie: Brad Pitt probably smells like a sawmill, with notes of Oscar disappointment THE olfactory world has been rocked by the news that a stinky man is to become the hairy face of the most famous fragrance on the planet. Chanel has announced that the new campaign for its signature scent, Chanel No 5, will be fronted by formerly-handsome hat wearer Brad Pitt. Fans of smells wait anxiously to see which perfume ad clichés Pitt will deploy. Will he be skipping through Paris clutching a bunch of balloons and sticking his tongue out at small dogs? Perhaps he'll be lost in a hedge maze or wearing a ball gown in a lake? It is, the fashion press have reported breathlessly, the first time the fragrance has ever been fronted by a man, failing to recognise that it might as well be fronted by a Tunnock's Caramel Wafer since fragrance is the Emperor's New Clothes of the advertising industry. His Imperial Majesty might be nude, as he strolls along a deserted beach in soft focus, but he certainly smells divine. One might imagine that, with the exception of those bits of whiffy, damp cardboard they put in magazines, advertisers would have a difficult time conveying a fragrance, whether it's on screen or on a billboard. Not so. It is (if they are to be believed) liaisons in meadows and armfuls of puppies, untied bow ties and stolen moments. Bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens. The inherent flaw in Chanel's plan is surely that Pitt probably smells like a sawmill, with base notes of Oscar disappointment and top notes of Angelina's wrath. He doesn't smell anything like Chanel No 5; ie pearls and disapproval and Marilyn Monroe's sheets. So why in the name of conspicuous consumption, does Chanel think I want to smell like him? Unless... Now I get it. The implication is not that I should aspire to smell like Brad, but that if I smell like Chanel No 5, Brad will want to smell me. Like a sweet-smelling Siren, I will lure him to my clammy pulse points. Angelina will have to shove beeswax up his nose if he is to resist me. I will perform the mesmerising Perfume Dance (skoosh scent in air, waggle self through stinky mist) and he will be mine. I'll be the new Angelina! Angelina will be the new Jen! And Jen will probably place an order with Chanel for a lifetime's supply of Eau de Pitt. NEWS from my inbox: the New Start Scotland exhibition is returning to Glasgow later this year. It will be EVEN BIGGER and EVEN BETTER than ever, apparently, with a stellar line-up of top business brains already announced. Depressingly/predictably all but one is male. Flying the solitary, lace-trimmed flag for successful women who've fought for recognition in the male-dominated business world is Caprice, a former pants model and now a flogger of pants. It's good to know that women's endeavours are taken seriously. THE Olympic torch was lit at a toga party in Olympia last week. In a ceremony evoking the true spirit of ancient Greece, toga-clad revellers sparked up at a temple to the party gods before passing the torch around. Said to represent purity, it will soon arrive in the UK, where 8,000 people will pass it amongst themselves as part of an epic two-month-long celebration. Among those who will take their turn at it are a 100-year-old great-grandmother of six and Jedward. Makes you proud.