Random Scent Crimes

Wait, I spent HOW much on perfume?!

It has been hot this summer — in the nineties, and I don’t have air conditioning. Call me a waaaaaahmbulance. Anyhoo, I was in the library the other day, killing time in their lovely A/C, and I was walloped by a fragrance someone was wearing. I literally followed its trail through the stacks on the first floor, intrigued – what could possibly be so strong? Eventually I sidled up to a woman my age in the magazine section, smiled at her in a friendly fashion, complimented her fragrance (… I mean, what else am I going to say?) and asked her what it was. Turns out it was 24 Faubourg which is why it smelled familiar, it was one of my mother-in-law’s favorites at one time. It is a lot, a big white-flowers-hairspray-over-cigarettes scent, and I do not love it. I could smell it for at least thirty minutes after this woman had wandered off. I swear, I had that weird thing where I could almost taste it; do you know what I mean?

Thing is, though, I really don’t think she’d dumped an entire flacon on herself; I wish I’d had a perfume friend there I could ask. I think that, for whatever reason, in that moment in time and space, I was wildly sensitized to it. On the other hand, who would reach for that in this weather? On the third hand, I love the way a big, blowsy, indolic white flower fragrance opens up in sultry summer, so who am I to judge?

You own HOW many bottles of perfume?!?!

I go to my allergist regularly, and they have a no-fragrance policy, and I’m always a little nervous heading in. I respect those signs and would never apply a fragrance before going, but … am I fragrance free? I check defensively for remnants of scent on the sweater I’m wearing (medical offices are COLD!) and I also use a lot of sunscreen and creams and lotions on my dry skin and while they’re mildly scented, it’s not unscented. I figure if you can’t smell anything unless you get within a foot of me, I’m okay. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Anyway, back to that 24 Faubourg, whoa. I could smell it for hours afterward; did I get its molecular miasma lodged in my nose-hairs, or was it some sort of olfactory hallucination? How come that doesn’t happen with something I love? I know I’ve mentioned it on here before, but there’s also a woody base in some mass-market man-frags that sticks in my nostrils and drives me insane which is one reason why I don’t casually sniff at the men’s counter at, say, Macy’s.

So, what have I been wearing during the day, while wilting in this furnace-like dry heat, still waiting for our monsoon season to show up? A spray bottle of ice-cold spring water I spritz myself with, head to toe, followed by a splash of good old 4711, so refreshing! This was going to be a post about one or more of the amazing cheap colognes I found on Amazon after Tom’s post, but I fell down a rabbit hole and had a hard time making up my mind so we’re not there yet.

After not wearing fragrance to the doctor or dentist, or to the gym (also air conditioned), I have a nice cool evening shower and then absolutely slather myself with this stuff, and shout-out to Musette for giving it to me. Its scent is pretty subtle – I see frankincense and cinnamon listed right there at the end of a nice, short list of ingredients. It smells incredible, I can’t get enough of that smell, just a really nice, rich body-butter-type smell rather than a “perfumed body product” if that makes any sense at all, in a very emollient cream that doesn’t clog my pores and doesn’t work my last nerve, scent-wise, in the heat.

Have you ever gotten a fragrance up your nose/in your face/on your person that hung around like a bad dream? You know you have. What was it, and what did you do about it? Or have you been the one committing the scent crimes?

images via Pexels