Two fragrances give new meaning to the term "stinking rich."

This holiday season, fragrance companies are literally trying to bottle and sell the aroma of multimillion dollar bonuses, private jets, and trophy babes. November saw the launch of both Donald Trump: The Fragrance and Wall Street, billed by its creator, Bond No. 9, as the "world's first financial fragrance."

But the notion that there is some correlation between wearing scents that reek of money and actually making money seems counterintuitive. My line of work and geographic location put me in contact with plenty of millionaires (and thanks to the underinvestment in the commuter rails and New York City subways, much closer contact than any of us would like). Not that I've sniffed too aggressively, but I've never noticed a distinct or recurring bouquet on any of them.

Nonetheless, for the sake of inquiry, I put the scents to a decidedly unscientific test in the marketplace of public nostrils.

Donald Trump: The Fragrance

Who is behind it? Aramis, an arm of savvy cosmetics giant Estée Lauder. We haven't seen it placed in the current season of The Apprentice because (shocker!) the series was filmed last summer.

The marketing pitch: Wear this "uncompromising scent," middle managers, and you can be like The Donald!—"elegant, masculine, and devastatingly sexy." The Trumpesque bottle—it's gilded and resembles a skyscraper—captures "Mr. Trump's unparalleled confidence, success and character." It is available exclusively at Federated Department Stores outlets like Bloomingdale's and Macy's. The cost: $60 for a 3.4-ounce bottle, or $282 a pound.

What Donald Trump the person smells like: No idea. Given his fear of germs, perhaps antibacterial soap?

What Donald Trump: The Fragrance is supposed to smell like: The first impression is fruits and vegetables. "Bright citrus notes are sparked with hints of refreshing mint. Cucumber notes, fluid and fresh, are complemented by crisp herbaceous accents of black basil." Next comes a "masculine blend of select green and aromatic notes" that includes extracts from "the sap of an exotic plant" and provides "warm woody undertones." And finally, "herbaceous [again!] and spicy notes drawn from different vetiver notes." (Vetiver is a wild grass found mostly in tropical locales.)

What the "Moneybox" apprentice (6-year-old daughter) says it smells like: women's perfume.

The effect: I open the vial, and the smell of bad debt and overpriced condos wafts through the air. I saunter down Fifth Avenue near Trump Tower, lips pursed, eyebrows fluffed up. Nobody really gets out of my way. But there are signs that the essence of Trump is seeping through my pores. I pass Tiffany's flagship store and begin to think about how I can barter media placement for a piece of expensive jewelry. Later, as I stop at a bakery to buy a baguette, a middle-aged woman steps aside to make room. Could she be paying deference to the stench of power? Possibly. More likely she was just angling to get a better look at the sourdough loaves.