by The Mystified Musette

So…I’m still a little stuffy…okay, I’m still JAMMED in the sinii, though I’m wearing Cartier Declaration today and can parse out the bulk of the notes.  Not sure if that’s because I already know what it’s supposed to smell like, so even the sketchiest of outlines could be filled in by scent-memory …or can I actually smell it?  How can one tell?  Like…hey, do you ever wonder if what you see is what another person sees?  Like the color ‘blue’…is that all just a giant psychic agreement amongst us or  do we actually all ‘see’ the same basic shade(s) of color that we agree, in words, that we see.  Can I ever know what ‘blue’ means to you?  And why on earth am I yarking ON about that, you might ask?

Well, you might ask…but I sure can’t answer.  That’s not what today’s post is about anyway, though it is an intriguing question.    Okay – here’s today’s musings.  I was thinking about ‘light’ and ‘fresh’ scents and what they tend to represent in writing and, to a certain extent, to society still today.  This came about recently when I read A Trick of the Light by Louise Penny (thanks, S, for introducing me to Inspector Gamache!!!)…anyway, in the story one of the policemen is remembering his time spent in hospital, where he lay near death.  He compares the scent of the woman who sat at his bedside with that of his wife (they are separated)…sounds like the bedsitter is wearing Fresh Lemon Sugar and the wife is wearing Opium.  Wife loses.  He actually reminisces that he would not have come back to that cold hand and that perfume (I am paraphrasing, because I don’t have the book to reference – but it’s a close’un).  The whole paragraph is a paean to light, citrus fragrance being equated with fresh, youthful Life.

Remember the old (as in REALLY old) Harlequin Romance books?  The ones from the 60s and 70s, where the heroine always looked like a Breck Girl and the declaration of love was always just a kiss (I remember reading a Harlequin Presents and actually blushed! when they actually had…uh….you know  (hey, I was 11 when the first ‘Presents’ came out – and I was a slow, sheltered child)..anyway! back to the thought at hand…those girls also wore lemony perfumes.  Or they smelled like lilacs.  The Mean Girl always wore a heavy oriental – I call it the Miss Bingley Syndrome (think of the fabulous Anna Chancellor in her heavy Oriental silks and turbans, contrasted with Jennifer Ehle’s fresh, white gowns and simple coiffures) – and the Bingley always loses.

Okay…the stage is set.  in all types of fiction, lemon and very light florals seem to be equated with good, virtue, youth… But that’s not the part I wanted to talk about.  I wanted to talk about the fact that probably 90% of these books, if not more…are written by women!  So now I’m wondering, are we perpetrating the notion of ‘good’  = ‘fresh’ and “heavy/complex” = “bad’ ?   Not that that’s a judgement call on my part – more curiosity than anything.  I love citrus as much as I love incense – but I wonder how this came to be?  Is it a throwback from when heavy perfumes were used to mask illness, decay and body odor – since a light lemon fragrance wouldn’t do the trick, would the wearing of that type of fragrance signal health?  This is obviously not a scientific query – heck, I don’t even know if I’m right about this but it sure reads like it to me.   My ‘findings’ are also not substantiated by anything other than my ramshackle reading habits; it’s certainly not from any serious commentary on what I’m wearing – guys usually limit their perfume remarks to ‘you smell nice’.    El O couldn’t care less what I wear, as long as it’s not Yatagan and as long as I’m not wearing too much of Whatever Isn’t Yatagan.   Hub #1 preferred greeny/limey things but he’s a Gin Gimlet man so that one is easy.  Most guys I know (GUYS.  Not perfumistos) are in El O’s camp – unless they have a particular dislike of a note/scent they don’t care as long as it’s not overdone.

So….did we start  this, laydeez?   Do we secretly believe that lemons equal virginal freshness and that, when all is over, including the shouting, virginal freshness wins out?   Obviously, if we’re mating, the younger and fresher the ovum the better the reproductive chances, yeah…but does that potential for fecundity translate somehow to Fresh Lemon Sugar? Could that be the explanation for the variation on that theme, the ubiquitous fruity-floral, so beloved by young women?  What do  you think?  Do you care?  See, this is what happens when my sinuses go out and I can’t review perfume.  The mind wanders.  Faaaar afield.

And what would be the equivalent for men?  What would the Harlequin Hero wear?  (I always wanted to write a sequel to the Harlequin Romance, where all the heroines and heroes were invited to some shindig in a giant ballroom – but most of the spouses got mixed up and ended up going home with somebody else’s husband/wife..because if you’ve read more than one of those books you know that all the men are tall, muscular and dashing….like a roomful of Errol Flynn pirates or something.  Just imagine trying to pick our your Hero in a ballroom full of Heroes!   All wearing_______________?

heeheee!

I’d love to know what you all think (women and men).  Don’t hesitate to tell me if you think I’m crazy.  You won’t be the first, I promise!!!

photo:  my local library has HUNDREDS of these.

 Hooray! We are now officially “un-slabbed” and “de-podded”  and all our furniture is now back in our freshly painted, nice, clean house (at least until the toys, books, etc., start “multiplying” in the den – ha!). And our very large yard ornament has been hauled away, so we have our driveway back, too. Double hooray!

 After a chaotic and very stressful day or two last week while everything was being moved back in, this weekend I decided to treat myself to wearing the most expensive comforting scent I own, cost be darned. So what did I pull out? It was too chilly and fall-like for Le Labo’s Tubereuse 40, so I snagged my small decant of their Vanille 44 and spritzed with abandon. Its lush vanilla and incense soothed my stressed body and mind, and its rich aura made me feel pampered and self-satisfied as I kicked back in my cozy recliner with my favorite cup of tea (naturally) and simply enjoyed doing nothing for an hour or two.

 What’s your favorite “I deserve a treat” scent? What do you wear to reward yourself for a job well done?

 I’m seeing more yard sale signs popping up now that the worst of the hot weather is over (fingers crossed), and that got me thinking of ways to find vintage fragrance on the cheap.

 Are yard sales too hit-or-miss to be worthwhile? Are estate sales a better choice because they tend to be from older homes and/or there’s less junk to sift through? (Although I know that junk is in the eye of the beholder.) What about antiques stores? And does the country or the city make for better treasure hunting?

 When DH and I were young, we used to hit nearly every antiques store we passed, and we were regulars at the huge monthly markets in the large city near us, trolling for furniture, china, knickknacks and the like.  We haven’t been in years, however, as we now have way too much stuff and need to get rid of some, although the recent flooding incident is helping with that. Since everything is still pretty much packed up until the flooring gets installed, we’re finding there’s quite a bit we can live without. So we’re hoping to bring a lot less back into the house when we’re no longer pod people. Is it just me or does it seem like we spend our first 30 years or so acquiring things to fill up our lives and homes, and then the latter part trying to get rid of them?

 So let me know if you’ve got any tips or suggestions on finding fragrance in nontraditional ways. What’s been your biggest and best perfume score?

Sorry to disappoint yet again, but I’m over a barrel as far as posting goes. Bear with me, hang in there and I’ll be back. I promise.

Throwing some relaxing,settling, cooling vibes your way, Nava!

In the meantime, I’ll jump in (the Jumping Musette!) and tell y’all about my perfume choice for the meeting – and some other stuff:

1. Everything is 10 hours away from my home and business.  Everything. 

2. Everything in the Great Plains is (right now) This Color.  Shortly to be This Color…… then this.…then they shut the gates to the on-ramps on the Interstates, going out for milk is taking your life in your hands….and it’s still 10 hours away from my home and business.

3. I wore vintage Diorling for the 10 hour drive.  Ultra-exquisite but at the end of the night, trying to get some sleep …I kept smelling… coffee?  Is that even possible?

4. Our new strategic partner (and his team) is so fabulous it makes my stomach hurt.  That alone was worth the 10 hour drive.

5. El O got binked by a Statie for speeding.  I made him laugh.  We got off with a warning. Of course, the Statie was a dead-ringer for Wilford Brimley and those guys LOOOOOVE me (El O is a Wilford).  The ways of the Wilfords are mysterious, indeed. Had he looked like The Rock, that Statie would’ve fined us, but good.  Alas.  Unless he had a soft spot for ladies who look like his mom.  sigh.

6. It’s Official:  I can no longer drive at night.  My vision, never the best, is now totally off-the-chain-and-gone.  In-town is okay but Interstate?  Out in the middle of nowhere?  Ain’t happening.  It’s  been coming on for the past few years and it’s not the worst thing in the world but it is a bit disconcerting. And it makes me sad.  Even vintage Mitsouko can’t help me see the curves on I-80 at 11pm.  Sigh

7.  Did I mention I LOVE our new strategic partner?  Perhaps LOVE is not the right word.  ADORE.  Yeah, that’s better.

I WORE CUIR DE RUSSIE FOR THE  MEETING!  Good thing, too.  It had that ‘cool’ element – and it was just what was needed.  Luckily I was forewarned, right before we set out, as to the interesting approach this company takes, so I was able to just sit there and take notes.  And sniff my CdR.

On the way back from the blessedly-brief meeting, we came upon this little melon market – we were right at the edge of mid-central NE, where it starts to become The Great Plains and the topography starts to undergo some radical changes.  Lots of cattle (El O bowed to them in thanks for the excellent steak he ate the night before.  I think they just run out back and yank one out of the pasture or something)…anyhoo, there are these cool little ‘melon farms’.  I dunno if they are ONLY melon farms but the place was dotted with a lot of these melon-centric farms.  Our melon season is finished so it was delightful to find fresh cantaloupe and watermelons…and the coolest gourds and squashes in intriguing colors and shapes.  Dusky blues and grey/greens, stripes, purples with yellow splotches, like a vintage Dior ballgown, rich reds with cool lacework (I”m sure it’s called something specific but it’s 11:45p and I have no idea what ‘that’ is.  If you are a squashaholic (squashophile?) chime in!  Really great!

Fairfield IA still has great Indian food.  And Radiance Dairy.  Best cream on earth.  Truly.   It’s worth the 2 hr drive.  Hey, at least it’s not TEN!

xoxoxo and thank you all SO much for helping me make a perfume choice!  It was perfect!

First off, I can’t believe that it was the 10th Anniversary of 9/11 this week. I would love to visit the memorial at Ground Zero in New York; the pictures I saw of it were wonderful. It looks like a powerful reminder of the lives that were lost that day ten years ago.

I’m afraid that some of the other memorials out there aren’t as successful.

We had a dedication of our own 9/11 memorial that included a beam from the WTC. That beam is very moving: seeing solid steel twisted like taffy brings it home. Seeing lookouts on the (former) MCA Building across the street and sharpshooters on the roof of the library reminded me that it’s a post 9/11 world.

I lived in New York for a while and I could see the twin towers from my front windows. I remember that pretty much from any subway stop below 42nd street, I knew that I could find due South by looking for their mass. It’s still weird to go there and not see them.

I’ll talk more about them at my blog and not natter on here about them. If you’re interested, click through.

The weather: last week was beastly hot (and there’s going to be on more if history repeats itself) but we’ve tipped the scales and are into autumn. The days are getting shorter and the evenings cooler. I know, I know you’re all thinking “cry me a river, bub” since we’re rather lightly touched by winter. But I still find myself gravitating towards heavier scents. The Montales and the crazier Uncle Serges tend to come out. What are you reaching for these days?

Speaking of Uncle Serge, Octavian at 1000 Fragrances states that De Profundis is the swan song of the redoubtable Mssr. Lutens.

If that’s the truth, I don’t quite know what to do with that news. So many of his scents are ones that I never want to be without, yet I always thought that the treadmill of 4 new scents a year was crazy. While I don’t exactly mourn the idea that there will be no other Vitriol d’oeilett that fact there there might not be a new Serge Noire sucks..

(edit) a Facebook post by my scent twin, The Non-Blonde states that there will be a March release, as she was told by the manager of the Paris boutique. I’m glad that those two won’t be the coda..

And finally, my life is being controlled by a three dollar piece of plastic. If you have a Honda or Acura, yours might soon too. On Memorial Day Sunday I came home and parked the car and noticed that the brake lights were on. After much head-scratching I ended up pulling the fuse that controls those lights and hit the internets. Here’s how the brake lights work on Honda/Acura: when you’re driving the car the brake pedal compresses a small switch like a doorbell. When you press the brake pedal, the switch releases turning on the brake lights. For some reason only known to Honda, they decided that bare metal touching this switch is unacceptable.  They drilled it out, filling the hole with a plastic plug. One that fails. So I had to take time off from work and get the little plastic doohickey. After much swearing and straining, I managed to get it in.

But better yet, they also decided that they needed to have one on the clutch: basically the same idea in reverse.  when you depress the clutch the top of the pedal presses the doorbell switch that tells the car that it’s okay to to crank the starter.  The little annoying plastic bastage broke this weekend.  I found the corpse in the footwell and AAA had to push-start the car so I could get it home.  So it was another trip to Honda of Hollywood and now I’m going to have to figure out how to put it in without A) breaking fingers, B) entirely disassembling my dashboard or C) paying someone a few hundred bucks to disassemble my car to pop this G-D $3 piece of plastic in there.

Color me annoyed..