drink me

I have a new perfume; it was a birthday present from my lovely, generous, hint-taking husband. mmmmmmmmmmm ...

It took me a long time to figure out why I like certain scents. I'm too disorganized to wear perfume consistently (have the same problem with earrings ... my watch ... er, bathing ... makeup), but I have now reached an age advanced enough to discern a perceptible pattern in fragrances I like: they have to smell, well, edible.

The first scent I stuck with for a while was Samsara by Guerlain. It's not too heavy, some amber and spice to it, but underlying: vanilla and a slight whiff of almond. I never had the perfume version of this actually: my mom bought the body cream for me for my 26th birthday (do the math yourself, shut up), and I never even got through it though I used it fairly often. My sense of smell is rather over-acute, and even when I use scent or scented products as sparingly as possible, I go through a short 'gak' period within the first half hour in which I walk around cursing myself for having over-applied the fragrance that is insistently smelling itself to me as I go about my business.

I could disingenuously say that I then went through a fragrance-free period, but here's the thing: I had a secret weapon, and her name, it was Aveda. Sometime back in the early 90s, one of my friends always had this great smell hanging about her but demurely, consistently denied the use of fragrance, until one day in her bathroom I found it: Shampure. Again with the spices and also distinct citrus and some woodsy notes, dominated by clove. I used that shampoo for years, and still use Aveda hair products (no evil phthalates!) Ever since then ... Gee, My Hair Smells Terrific.

But anyway. Within the last year or two, I've gone back to using Real Perfumes, and the vain vain vain part of me is fond of the snobby conceit of Not Smelling Like Your Average Girl. No, but in a good way. So I tend to be captivated by the allure of relative obscurity in fragrances. I was wearing both Mûre et Musc and Mûre et Musc Extrême by l'Artisan Parfumeurs (mûre being 'blackberry'—and very blackberry it is), and both Fleurs de Chocolat Lucia (now known simply as Fleurs de Chocolat; (top: orange peel, mandarin, vanilla; heart: orange flower, verbena, ylang ylang; base: bitter chocolate, amber, ginger) and Fleurs de Chocolat Manon (possibly discontinued) (top: pear, linden, fig; heart: freesia, wild rose, jasmine; base: bitter chocolate, rosewood, cloves).

And then, when Howie and I were wandering Soho during our recent New York mini-retreat, I found my new flavor: Nuits de Noho, from Bond No. 9 ... and though from the description it seems like the least edible of all my fragrances (top: bergamot; heart: rosewood, jasmine; base: patchouli), when I wear this I feel like snacking on my own forearms all damn day. And patchouli? hello? I can't tell you how many times I've practically lost my breakfast crossing paths on a sidewalk with some hemp-dressed young slattern saturated in patchouli. It smells to me like something you should hang in your closet to repel moths and/or vampires—I certainly never expected to associate the smell with anything luscious. But there is is. Go ahead—drink me.

* * *
I'm perfectly aware that I could have titled this post more ... precisely, given that I've been describing these fragrances in terms of edibility, not potability. So here's the rationale for my choice: 1. shut up; 2. there's no illustration of that famous little cake with the words spelled out in currants; 3. shut up; 4. there's a certain level of explicit obscene allusion, in reference to myself, that even I shrink from.

Comments

[Michele]

I like fragrance a lot. I'm a perfume whore, but not in the sense that I smell like a perfume counter, or my grandmother who used to hang out at the tennis club, downing gin and tonics and smoking like a chimney and then spraying the hell out of herself so Husband #3 didn't know she smoked. But I've never paid nearly $180 for a scent. Good Heavens that's a lot of Cnotes. Most of my purchases are in the $60-85 range. Could I be adopted by you and your husband please, I could use some sugar parents.

I did come across some the other day while were in downtown Sacramento, it was called love--and I can't remember who made it. It made me want to sniff my arm all night it was so yummy.

[zeno]

Scent of a Woman... hmmm. The amazing thing to me is how each parfum reacts differently on each woman's skin and so no two women smell exactly alike, even if they have doused themselves.

It's the little things that please.

[jilbur]

erk, Michele, that price was for the 3.4 oz bottle—mine's the 1.7 oz ... which I know, still, is a lotta money. But it was my birthday present! my compensation for getting ooooooooollllllld!

[jenB]

old, but hottttttttttttttttttttttttt

and delicious!

[redclay]

funny girl.

[scott]

Ok, ok, so I smell. Hint taken. Our hot water should be fixed by tomorrow...

[little sis]

My love from perfume came from my middle sister who always had some wonderful scent on. And later on in life started to give different scents to me for presents.
All of this talk about perfume reminded me of the Love's baby soft incident, of which I am still very, very sorry for!!!!!
(I was only Benjmain's age though).

[jilbur]

It was Love's Fresh Rain Scent. Not that I'm holding a grudge.

[Lisa]

Man, I wish they still made Gee, Your Hair Smells Terrific because, well, it did. So did Body on Tap.

"But doooon't drink it!"

[Cute Sexy Upskirts]

now I'll stay in touch..