Patience

… is the name of the new fragrance by little known Portuguese house Para errar e humano, and I was lucky enough to score a sample by first pimping my body to the highest bidder, then abseiling from the Houses of Parliament, and finally parading naked from John O’Groats to Land’s End, wearing nothing more than multicoloured nipple tassles with motorised twirling action and a codpiece in the shape (though not size – tiny stopper!) of a Serge Lutens bell bottle (later surgically removed).

Enough about me, what about the perfume? Well, never have I come across a less apposite moniker. Said to be designed around the idea of a flag shaped pyramid with a dodecahedronal nature, top notes of bassoon, Guadalajara and emery board waaaay too quickly give way to midnotes of vintage clothes-rack, durian and tarte au citron with the first traces of mould. Within 15 minutes of the first spray (Patience has ‘a patent pending spray device that has to be seen to be believed, combining rustic chic with the evanescence of contemporaneity: we call it “Esguinchar mim!”‘) a mere hint of these notes is left – all that remains is the base notes: ‘a breeze on Saturday afternoon in Oporto, 1963, essence of Lord Beaverbrook and Japanese windchimes’. We found it truly wonderful and although it has all the tenacity in one’s memory of a drunken fumble on the dance floor back when one was young, foolish and unhappy, it would be worth buying if it wasn’t for the price. Setting a new standard for niches, a 5ml bottle of pure parfum (‘in a delectable apothecary bottle, hand etched by virginal spinsters in the hills of Bali-Hai’, though it looks like one you could buy in Walmart), will set you back $450. You’ll also have to visit their boutique in Neverneverland, On a Green Hill Far Away – no phone orders. I’ll satisfy myself with my non-existent decant.

Sorry, I’m being sillly. Though not too far off the mark given the claptrap us scentaholics have to swallow from far too many companies these days. I’m convinced Patty’s budget for her perfume sample and decant business must be heading towards the GNP of a country like Bhutan, given the exponential rise in perfume prices now that – and oh, ain’t we lucky kids! – luxury is back. Anyway, I seem determined to continue to digress. Enough!
I’m writing this because, as we approach holiday season (I do so hope you have lots of social engagements for what some silly Brits label ‘Party Season’ over here – daft arses), I’m waiting on packages that normally fly across the Atlantic in three days but have been slowed down by Thanksgiving sluggishness. I blame all those marshmallows served with sweet potatoes. They’re called sweet potatoes for a reason folks! Ease up a little wouldja?!! Anyway, I have no patience, and their lack of arrival is DOING MY HEAD IN! For one thing, I have nothing, nada, zilcharoonie to review.

Patience is a virtue

Virtue is a grace

Grace is a little girl

Who didn’t wash her face.

My gran, in all her wisdom, was able to debunk millennia of Judaeo-Christian doctrine in a teensy weensy quatrain. Don’t get me wrong, I think Patience is a long way from over-rated. I’m a (sometimes) patient listener, teacher, partner, lover, gardener, cook, walker, thinker, tinker, tailor, soldier, spy, but i draw the line at patience for perfume. If I’ve fallen in love, I whine at the door like a dog in heat. I rush home from work each day, hoping to find at least a note saying ‘We tried to deliver your perfume of delight that will change your life forever, make the stars sparkle more brightly, give hope where there was once despair, etc., etc., etc.,’ but as yet the doormat has only bills, junkmail, Christmas catalogues (Boden x4 is currently the record winner, closely followed by the Cotswold Company), and bank statements (which I long ago requested to be online only – as you can tell, I’m a zealous crusader against climate change…). I dream of delayed smell and wake up pining, empty nasal cavity matching empty wallet.
I don’t know what to do about it. Suggestions please. Alternatively, maybe you could do a little dance of ‘postal delivery for Lee’ (I imagine the moves would work well with a disco number like ‘Young Hearts, Run Free’ by Candi Staton) chez toi, and I might get lucky. I’m a dirty materialist, but I’m happy for very silly superstitions to work in my favour…

Even more alternatively, if Lack of Patience (and avarice – let’s not go there) are my perfume sins, what are yours? Share – we’re in this together, folks, and I’ll tell no-one. No-one, you hear?

  • Gaia says:

    Lee, this post has made my day. Just because 🙂
    My two biggest sins: first is a variation of your impatience. I can’t wait and try one scent at a time. I start with one scent on one wrist. Then a second one on the other arm. Then a third on the elbow, and something I already had, just for comparison, on the opposite elbow. then the rest of them go on my shoulders and back of the hands. Then I collapse and forget my name.

    The other one is similar to what Rita said above. I hate sharing with the masses. When asked about a Serge or a PG or whatever little treasure I’m wearing I just say “oh, it’s something French and obscure I found online. can’t even pronounce the name…”. I’m evil, but we can’t have everyone smell of Chergui, right?
    The only exception is Andy. I sing his praise to anyone willing to listen.

    By the way and on a related note, I don’t think I have your email, and there’s something we should discuss 😉

    • Lee says:

      Glad you enjoyed it. I think it’s important to go with the silly flow when it strikes.

      I’m like you with the trying too many on thing. I know ‘proper perfumistas’ would say I’m muddying my olfactory capacities: I don’t care in my frenzy of pleasure…

      And I love you elitist perfume fanatics! But that’s probably because you’re urban dwellers, right? Out here in the country, no-one wears nothing (purposeful negative concord)- except the country set with their Hermes scarves and touches of 24, Faubourg…

      Email heading your way!

  • Rita says:

    March, that makes perfect sense, Mitsouko I can share cause I have to. Rose de Nuit, I would buy every bottle in the world if I were rich just so no one else could have it-pure evil.

    Lee, you’re so kind and sharing, I do wish I could be more like you!

    • Lee says:

      I’m not that kind and sharing. It’s more that I’m surrounded by stinkers. I want my life to be well-scented! Pure selfishness really!

  • Lee,
    Loved the post. I can’t remember when I’ve had such a good laugh. Let me just say that you are one of the people I’m thankful for this Thanksgiving.

    Hugs,
    Anna

  • Jayne says:

    Dare I ask, Louise…? Or should we bury her in a pile of cushions, then jump on top?

  • Bryan says:

    Dearest Lee,
    I always and I mean always overnight or two day air a scent package beause I can not stand the agony of waiting for the delights that have aready hit my account. It’s just not fair, man.
    I do love the anticipation. I can be opening a box and ordering at the same time….it’s shameful.
    You have a gift and I appreciate you sharing your words.
    xoxo

    Happy Thanksgiving from the states anyways…we can all participate in gratitude, right.

    • Lee says:

      Thank you for saying I have a gift, though it’s just words sitting next to each other, is all…. honestly.

      I think you act on your desires far more effectively than I ever can, B…Love you for that.
      Have a great Thanksgiving.

  • tmp00 says:

    If there’s an image that can top me riding a power mower naked through Macy’s with my hair on fire, yours is it.

    And we want photos.. :d

    • Divalano says:

      lol, now cut that out!

      how am I supposed to concentrate today?? my coworkers are surely wondering why I keep giggling for no apparent reason.

      • Lee says:

        Hey, it’s holiday time coming up for you people (not for me – I’m training teachers most of tomorrow…)

    • Lee says:

      The photos have been burnt and the digital data corrupted in such a way that not even an ubernerd could unscramble it. I don’t want to ruin people’s eyesights…

      I think you should go for the power mower without the hair-burning.

  • Joan says:

    Great post, hilarious visualizations – you almost had me looking up Portugese fragrances houses ….OK, I did look it up!!(red face)! Here’s my confession – I check out lists of 2007-2008 and beyond unknown launch date, impossible to get, extravagantly expensive beyond imagination scents and torture myself with covetousness – mea maxima culpa. In my defense (favour) I have not bought unsniffed thanks to TPC.

    • Lee says:

      Where do you check out such lists? Not that I want to…@-)

      And I’m glad you had fun tracking down the Portuguese fragrance house…:d

      I occasionally break my ‘never buy unsniffed’ rule, but it’s normally only very safe things (something by a nose I already love, for example), and I always manage to swap with lovely perfume people if ever I go wrong.

      • Joan says:

        I have to ammend that to- I have not bought unsniffed SINCE I found TPC (but it is soooooo hard..the gloriously wonderful unsniffed purchases are the most memorable. The list I was looking at this morning is Now Smell This- new perfumes and fragrances for 2007-2008 and beyond (new perfumes posted through November 17th). The other, The Scented Salamander has an Index of New Perfumes. Not that you want to……

        • Lee says:

          Fingers in ears time!

          I too miss the thrill of the wondrous revelation. But I think when you’ve been in the perfume hunt for a while, that thrill is a little diminished. Never again like the first few wondrous discoveries…

          *sighs*

  • Robin says:

    HA-I’m with March. I’m still on my first cup of tea, but still, no excuse for how long it took me to figure out that the first two paragraphs weren’t entirely serious. Off to make more tea…

  • Dusan says:

    The amount of roars you sent me into is perversely insane (insanely perverse?), you daft man! Ah, but the roars were soon cut short by feelings of embarrasment and righteous indignation: you see, I know why one of your parcels hasn’t arrived yet and let me tell you it has nothing to do with TG delays. Will drop you an email later today to explain…

  • Patty says:

    You are a lovable loon, you know? You got me. I was trying to figure out how to get my hands on that perfume! That’s a true mark of the obsessed, when parody can send them off on a Perfume Snipe Hunt. Nicely done. 🙂

    Impatience here. I’ve been phoning two or three Dior boutiques daily since Monday, the day the press releases SAID those new ones would be released, and bupkus so far. Also waiting impatiently for my Silver Factory to be shipped.

    What else? Oh, yeah! I’m flying to Portland the first weekend in DEcember to sniff those Private Reserve things. yeah, exactly! obsessed, but I keep fooling myself I’m doing it in the interest of reporting back.

    Unlike March, I actually sorta kind a like that new Angel thing. Not to wear, heaven’s no! I hate Angel, but it’s got some skank in there that intrigues me just for sniffage.

    • Lee says:

      I love you Patty. And I wondered if I’d trick anyone with the opening line.

      Can’t wait to hear of your adventures. And you call me a loveable loon…

    • March says:

      Oh, that makes me feel so much better!!! I was all aflutter about this new fragrance, then I felt sort of, well …. let’s just write it off to our enthusiasm, yes?

      And so very very happy you’re going to sniff the Private Reserve!<:-p

  • Divalano says:

    Brilliant, just brilliant. I think you ought to add “doesn’t take self too seriously” to your attributes list. It’s a rare quality, my dear.
    I suppose my main perfume sin would be capriciousness. My love for this scent or that waxes & wanes with weather, mood & phase of the moon. I could never commit to a signature scent, ever. This is the same reason I have no body art, although most of my peers have at least one carefully chosen & executed tattoo. And it’s the same reason I end up making weekend jaunts with 5 pairs of shoes & 4 shades of lipstick. And 6 choices of scent ….

    And what’s wrong with marshmallow!!! Marshmallow is one of nature’s miracle foods, I’m convinced. Not on my menu this year, but just saying …

    • Lee says:

      I feel the same about tats as you – it must be to do with that capricious streak. Matt says I have a bit of a butterfly mind in that I have too many interests and flit willy-nilly (love that expression) from one to the other. Hell, at least I’m alive with it!

      And no, I don’t take myself too seriously, it’s true. Especially not when the spirit of daft inhabits my being so fully…

      And onto marshmallow. I laughed at Daft Dusan and Mad March the other day when they got all squirmy at the thought of turkish delight, the crazies, not remembering I have EXACTLY the same terror of the texture of mallows of the marsh. They’re tooth-squeaky *shudders*.

      • Divalano says:

        no, no not RAW marshmallow. that’s uncivilized. marshmallow baked into rice crispies or roasted on a stick. and especially gooped over ice cream sundaes & veined through rocky road. yummmm :d

        (& yes, melted & browned over mashed up sweet potato, which is one of my culinary guilty secret sins)

  • March says:

    Clearly I need more coffee, because I was an embarrassing distance into your “review” before I realized it was a joke.:”> You really had me excited with that durian note, too… I’m afraid you’re too close to the truth, although seen in that light it’s hilarious.

    I have no perfume sins. Unless you count the fact that I was hammering the Angel fragrance rep at the Bloomie’s yesterday as to where she could get me another bottle of their fancypants LE, which is already sold out everywhere … this is before I’ve tried it on. In case I discovered I *needed* it. Which I didn’t. Thank God. It seems to have crawled off my arm overnight. It’s still a sow’s ear, no matter how blingy a purse you stuff it into.:@)

    And then I dreamed (no, really) that I’d tracked down two LEs with these fancy, complicated atomizers, and they were beautiful, and I was getting out the old MasterCard and I said, what am I doing? I will *never* wear these things. But the SA has spent so much time and effort getting them here for me…

    PS I am thinking you need something much, much larger than a bell bottle, my friend.

    • Lee says:

      Thanks for the bell bottle p.s. :”>

      You dream perfumes? My dreams are so much more prosaic. Though I do too lose sight of reality and ignore my ‘But you don’t really like it’ sensible super-ego side for the ravening yearn of the id. And Freud should’ve included sniffage in with those basics of food, shelter, sex…

    • Lee says:

      Oh, and got ya! (at least for a second).

  • Rita says:

    My sins, let me think about this one, Lee…Ok lust, because my list is getting so freakin’ long. But my biggie, I must say is greed-I do not like when I am asked “What are you wearing, it smells so good!” It makes me cringe to think someone I’m around often would begin to smell like Rose de Nuit or Mitsouko. I often complain that I’m tired of people around me smelling of Tommy Girl and Beautiful(sorry if you any of you like these!), but deep down, I must admit, part of me would like to keep it that way. Don’t get me wrong, I do often give away things I don’t like or don’t wear much to my best friends and the gals at work, but the Holy Grails? C’mon, I wanna be the best smellin’ lady around. Which, adds pride to my list, and I guess I have to add envy when I think about Patty’s collection. I might even have to add murder if I come across someone with a full bottle of Rose de Nuit. So, how many sins is that? I’ve lost count, but perfume is sending me to hell in a handbasket, which will hopefully have some RdN in it as well >:)

    And March, if you’re reading this, my package arrived yesterday, and I must say, outstanding job! Now the pressure is really on, I’m sure you have already sampled everything I own. I do have at least one nice surprise for you, though, and I will have some sort of package in the mail for you Thursday. And BTW, I love the Carotte!

    • March says:

      Glad you got your package! This has been a fun diversion for me.

      Okay, I’ll confess in here so Lee and Patty won’t see me — it’s starting to bum me out just a little that my beloved Courtesan is frequently at the top of TPC “top ten” sellers. I think it’s fair to say I got that ball rolling over here, and now — in spite of how happy I am if I played any small part in introducing the masses do a different opiate — I sort of think of it as “mine.”:”> I mean, unless something’s changed, it’s really, really hard to get over here. And I like it that way. Okay, off to put on my hairshirt (which in this case is getting three kids ready for school.)

      • Louise says:

        OK well, sputter, sputter, Perfect Skanky Night was Lee and my’s dirty little find for a very short while…now on the TPC top ten-what’s my punishment, for um, Pride? Damn, I’m gonna fulfill all seven before breakfast!

        • Lee says:

          Louise ———-> >:)

        • March says:

          Well, yes! There you have it. It makes me feel petty. I went from being THRILLED that I’d spread the gospel to wishing everyone would move on to a new Le Labo or something.

          And Skanky Night is your definite contribution to the cause!

      • Lee says:

        Saw you! Saw you!

        I’ve often wondered what you made of this fact… And now I know.

        Getting 3 kids ready for school is more hair-shirt than I care to consider (I imagine marmalade in hair, shoes on the wrong foot, and last night’s homework in the dog – the old excuses…).

    • Rita says:

      Glad to hear I’m not the only one that doesn’t want to share my favorites! I used to hate that shopping around here is horrible but where perfume is concerned, I’m glad shopping stinks, it makes me smell so much better! But really, the next person that asks me where to get Mitsouko is gonna make me cry. Shouldn’t I be happy that someone would love Mitsouko? And shouldn’t I try to rid the world of some of the horrible department store fragrances? Shouldn’t I welcome a budding perfumista with open arms? Oh, the guilt.

      • March says:

        Pls see my reply to Louise up there (and she’s the force behind Skanky Night.)

        Yes. We should be happy people want Mitsouko, and that’s what’s going to keep us in product, ultimately. But when you find something that feels particularly “you” it’s hard to share on some level I don’t even like to admit exists in me…. oddly, as much as I love Mitsouko, she’s Too Big to be mine, if that makes any sense.

    • Lee says:

      But Rita – surely the hoi polloi could have one or two things that you don’t much care for but are a step up from the lowest common denominator plasticated fruit salad flower arrangements they normally wear…? It’s highly unlikely you’ll bump into anyone with RdN (non-perfume people don’t ‘get’ the price or exclusivity: ‘What’s the point? It’s just a smell.’)except on a sniffa, and even then…

      But I can kinda understand, though I’d like more people nearby to get it, actually.

      • Rita says:

        Lee,should I take that last statement as we all have such different tastes we wouldn’t wear the same scents to a sniffa or are you telling me RdN stinks and no one else would wear it anyway? :p

        • Lee says:

          Well, me and RdN don’t play friendly, but I meant the former. The closest I can do to that style of rose is Rosine’s Poussiere de Rose… I admire RdN, but it is a living thing on my skin that makes me feel like sleeping beauty ensnared amongst the thorns (and not in a good way).

          • Rita says:

            I didn’t like it very much when I first put it on , I thought it was too much, to much of what I’m not sure. Everything. Rose, musk, that sugary sweetness. But for some reason I couldn’t stop sniffing it, Then I started craving it. And then somehow, it turned into my number one. I’m not really sure how it happened myself. I do not wear it as much as I would like, because I’ve already told you about my mom’s sensitive nose, and I really do fear that I am kind of harassing others when I wear it! I try to remind myself that there are people out there that (gulp) dislike perfume, and this is probably their Kryptonite, so if I do wear it out, I promise I apply sparingly. I know it’s a hard one to handle! :d

    • tmp00 says:

      Rita-

      I understand completely! I don’t want to share these with just everybody!?! Is that so wrong? I think not!

  • chayaruchama says:

    Beshert-
    You’ve used up all my faults- you and Louise ! [ waving madly to Louise from Southie ]…

    My package was so heavy- it’s probably limping its way to Long Melford, poor thing.
    I’m stunned by Louise’s Terpsichorean travesty-
    Am attempting my pale imitation here in blustery Southie [ imitation is the sincerest form of flattery !].

    No sweets [ potatoes]for me.
    We’re doing a gorgeous, but pared-down version chez nous- hoping Neil will drop by to have a plate and a pig [ guinea, naturlich].

    Wish all of you were closer by !
    Love you, Liebling.

    • Louise says:

      Chaya bubeleh-I am stunned by “Terpsichorean”! Great word that won’t even be useful for scrabble. But, I am guessing you can move that tush with the best of them. It’s amazing that Lee has and deserve so many besherts…hugs to you, my future friend, on this day of grace.

      • Lee says:

        I call I ‘the Queen of the Classics with Yiddish sprinkles’ – she has an incredible intellect, don’t her?

    • Lee says:

      I’ll watch for a hefty package with awkward gait, then (sounds like a description of a former bf).

      I’m sure your meal will delight all, almost as much as your company!
      And when do I get to see you and Louise dancing together?
      I hope you like your toffees…

  • Louise says:

    I am not sure whether it was my deep reflections on that giant Serge-uesque codpiece, or the need to look up “abseiling” (rappelling in proper American), but my computer crashed twice in tears of mirth at your post today. Brilliant, doll!

    Seriously, now, I am pretty worried about the zooming price of the “luxury” fragrances. Usually I refrain from even trying ’em for fear of perceived “need” (and I can easily find application for March’s insightful “$200 is my new $100″ comment” of a few days ago). But yesterday, a dear friend shared a rather pricy new luxe ‘fume…and I instantly knew that cost was only a tiny barrier to this particular pleasure.

    My sins…hmm, I can’t pick just one, but for the deadlies-Greed and Lust, worn proudly. But where’s Impulsivity…? That’s the worst of it for perfume for me…the unsniffed purchase, the broken no-buy vows, the duplicate bottles.

    Now, you do know that I have been stomping, wailing, and shaking my behind so your packages arrive quickly to you. I blame the British post and that tea incident. Also-you must add Patient Friend to your list of non-perfume attributes @};-

    • March says:

      Ooooh, Louise — what did you fall in love with?:o

    • Lee says:

      I’m so glad all I got of those Luxes was a fleeting sniff in the parade of many, or I’d’ve succumbed myself.

      Impulsivity. I’m normally good at this (Patty’s talked before of how she loads up internet shopping baskets and then just… does nothing – that’s me all over), but every once in a while I break. I think you witnessed it with the di Orios (eyes lit up with avarice), and most recently with Le Labo Patchouli: ‘This price in Liberty is ridiculous, so much cheaper in the States, who on earth would pay such a price, but oh my god I don’t care. I. Have. To. Have. It. Now.’

      So it goes.

      This might be why I often avoid shopping.

      • Jayne says:

        Loading up internet shopping baskets and then doing nothing…. oh, the shock of recognition. D’ya know what helps, especially when I have a LuckyScent basketfull? I start calculating the shipping costs versus the import duty for multiple bottles(this paralysis inducing trick only works for non-US scentaholics).

        Is having champagne taste but beer money a sin? It really should be!

  • Maria says:

    Lee, we don’t eat soporific turkey and sweet potatoes until Thursday. We don’t jump the gun on Thanksgiving the way we do on Christmas. Some of our neighbors already have their Christmas decorations up. 😮 And stores open very early on Friday for mad shopping sprees. BTW, although K and I never cook turkey, as there are only 2 1/2 of us, this year we can say we’re refraining out of kindness to our neighbors, a flock of wild turkeys that sometimes serenades us and sometimes just acts goofy (daft), wandering aimlessly from one side of the road to the other.

    Perfume sins: Impatience and curiosity. Why do I feel I must try so many different fragrances when I already like and dislike so many? Surely, I have enough of an olfactory database to keep myself entertained. But there’s always another to be tested. And then I’m impatient for it to arrive. The days stretch out into weeks. Gobble, gobble, gobble!

    • Lee says:

      The same here too, Maria. Though I am looking forward to a reappearance from Patty’s butt wiggling Santa. Remember how it disappeared in the snow last year, poor guy?

      I know the T-meal is a one-off; I just wanted to exploit national stereotypes etc…

      Your curiosity is an addition to my list. nothing to worry about I think. Unless we’re talking the Tree of Knowledge (and even that’s a little confused on morality when it comes down to it), curiosity never killed anything. Except the cat. And I think nobody liked that particular cat much in the first place. Or so I hear.

  • MattS says:

    Mmmm…perfume, codpieces, AND Candi Staton. Sublime. Impatiently awaiting more brilliant posts such as this.

  • ReneeM says:

    You crack me up Lee!!!! How scary is it that I can envision you parading around like that????? I need sleep. I’m not exactly a patient saint myself, but I do think that if I wasn’t eager and impatient that would likely mean I wasn’t passionate about it. Nothing wrong with that! Off to do my dance of ‘postal delivery for Lee’!

    • Lee says:

      I hope your dreams were bearable and that my first paragraph description didn’t scar them too noticeably…

      The dancing is yet to work – though your moves are fierce – that’s the campest I do…(just got in from a school I’ve been working in, ostensibly to ‘write up’ – hence checking the blog…). I should always remember that holiday periods mean sheer volume mean slower post and Chill The Heck Out. I’m just thankful there are lovely perfume folk like Chaya and Louise sending me stuff.

  • Elle says:

    Even your non-reviews are brilliant. Great post! 🙂 And I share your impatience. Even if I’m waiting for samples I’m pretty damned sure I won’t love, I race to the mailbox each day, full of hope and expectation and suffer serious disappointment when it’s just full of pathetically flat envelopes and catalogs. And since I’ve entered the perfume confessional, I should say as well that I’m an unrepentant perfume sl*t. I can’t commit. I swear undying love time and time again and promise to be faithful, but, before long, these true loves find themselves abandoned, forgotten, forlorn and closeted. Very sad. I *do* remain true to a few (leather and tobacco types have the power to always lure me back to them), but only a very few. I also can’t be trusted when I say I loathe, despise, will never touch, etc. a certain note – witness my recent geranium conversion. And I’m unable to see the magic in some apparently universally coveted scents – Nombre Noir being the first that springs to mind. Now that I’ve confessed, do I get to be absolved of all these sins? 🙂

    • Catherine says:

      Geranium!? I, too, am finding this emotionally powerful, though I can’t for the life of me remember which perfume(s) brought me to my knees. Which geranium-inferno scents have smitten? I can then rush to order and then rush to the curbside, thudding the mailbox with a stick as I await the postmistress.

      • Elle says:

        MH Geranium Bourbon is the one that really won me over to the geranium loving camp. I’m even appreciating the geranium in Or et Noir now. What has happened to me?!

    • Lee says:

      I’m glad it was Geranium Bourbon that cured you – a great place for the eponymous note to work its charms.

      I’m sure the Mother Superior of Scented Afflictions will hold you to her fragrant (but modestly covered) decolletage and absolve you without even a hint of ‘Hail Mary’s. You might need to take decants with you though…