Perfume Posse

I had a really interesting Thursday. I went on a sniffing expedition and was, how shall I say this: disappointed. I’ve tried to keep an open mind over the years and do my best to be an equal opportunity sniffer. My new next-door neighbour sells Avon, and I’m planning to The rest, please…

I know it´s only the beginning of June, but you´re all going to have to indulge me for a bit. My aunt´s air conditioning has been busted for the past week, and I´ve been schvitzing like a pudding at a picnic. Not that I wish I was buried under 5 The rest, please…

Evil Auntie Musette started this, and I´m continuing it. This is not about weight, size, or how many times I haven´t been to the gym in the past couple of years. Light is a metaphor for a sense of being. Night owl that I am, I love it when the The rest, please…

When is patchouli not patchouli? When Tom Ford puts his name on the bottle. I´ve made no secret of my stormy relationship with patchouli, and I don´t think we’ll ever achieve the sort of détente that will allow me to completely embrace the full-on sweaty, stinking glory of it. But, The rest, please…

I´m staying true to my promise of introspection (and also filling in for Patty whilst she suns herself in warmer climes) by writing about one of my favourite Bond No. 9 concoctions, Andy Warhol Silver Factory. I am not what you would call an art aficionado by any stretch; I The rest, please…

Sometimes, a big city can be welcoming, and sometimes it can wallop you with an urban blight that impacts you so profoundly, it makes you scratch your head and wonder why you love that particular place so much to begin with. When I crossed the border into Ontario for the The rest, please…

As we´ve complained ad nauseam, we’ve barely had a spring here in the east, only to suddenly wake up to ninety degree temperatures. It´s been a bit disorienting to say the least, but it definitely puts into perspective the approaching misery of summer. I say misery because my bikini beach The rest, please…