1) The cover of my new issue of Vogue has a photo of Jennifer Aniston and it says, “Don’t Feel Sorry For Me!” Well, okay, hon. I mean, Brad did dump you (he of the refined design aesthetics who sneered at your comfy-couch boho-Victorian style) for that big-lipped bimbo who just happens to be spread all over the inside of this issue, the new model for St. John, looking for all the world like she’s trying to remember how many orgasms she’s had today, or possibly where she left the keys to the Mercedes (are these thoughts connected?) And he knocked her up and you can’t even tell in those pics. But you’re right. I’m already bored with your new role as jilted celebrity wifey, consoling yourself with the cover of Vogue. You’re right, I don’t feel sorry for you.
2) I want the old Pier 1 Imports back. The new Pier 1 is a downscale Pottery Barn, with cheaply made furniture, candles in scents I don’t want, and wall art I don’t like. I want my funky old Pier 1 with that fell-off-the-ship hodgepodge of hemp clothing, ancient powdery teas, mystery spice bags, ratty posters, weird creepy wood bibelots, etc. Not because I really need any of that stuff. I just miss the smell. If you could bottle the unique, spicy, musty, foreign smell of the Original Pier One, I’d be first in line to buy it. I’d use it as a room spray. They don’t even carry baskets any more. Yeesh.
3) What is going on with the super-sizing of soap bars? It’s like a 32-oz. Coke … no wonder I buy so many guest soaps, at least I can pick them up! Wielding one of those new giant soaps in the bath is like trying to keep a grip on a greased brick.
4) Finally, new on the Rose Love Front: I have decided that powder is not something I love with my rose, although objectively it’s beautiful (think Lipstick Rose). My newest Rose Love (thanks, Patty, you enabler! mwah!) is Serge Lutens Rose de Nuit, which is deeply animalic, a filthy, drrrrty thing that curled up in my ear and whispered sexy obscenities to me for hours. It is so magnificently skanky I am guessing this was not a great love for Patty.
5) I was stumbling around our local Anthropologie looking at all their cool stuff, which includes not just unusual bath soaps and lotions but often fragrances I’ve never seen elsewhere. On this trip there were some L’Aromarines (which, okay, I have seen elsewhere), and three different Oilily scents (who knew?), all of which were fun enough that maybe I’ll review them as a set sometime, and one of which, Papillon, I especially liked — a lily and tart cherry combo that absolutely works. But the best find was Paul & Joe Bleu Eau De Toilette (30ml). Robin at NST actually reviewed the other one, Paul & Joe Blanc, which was very pretty but which I couldn’t pick out of a spring-floral lineup, so to speak. Bleu actually got me to stop, turn around, and go back across the cluttered store, trawling for the bottle (um, excuse me, does this smell familiar, what the hell did I just try on?!?)
Notes: Bergamot, Cilantro, Caraway, Cardamom, Ylang-Ylang, Jasmine, Rose, Magnolia, Heliotrope, Patchouli, Vetiver, Oud, Myrrh, Sandalwood, Incense, Vanilla, Ambergris.
I think this would be a bit much in the middle of summer, but (bear with me here) it had the olfactory resonance of sassafras. What I mean is, it didn’t smell like sassafras, but it had roughly the same level of root-beer-ish refreshment factor, and about the same weight. I liked it because it was interesting, and quite pleasant along the same general lines as, say, a cucumber cologne, but with more legitimate-perfume depth and complexity. As my aunt would say, nifty. Definitely a unisexy fragrance, too. The guy at the POST OFFICE said, you smell wonderful! Postscript: 1) The Big Cheese, who mostly doesn’t comment on my ever-changing reek, said hey, that smells really good. 2) The scary part? After a couple of hours I thought, that smells a tiny bit like my friend Chergui. So I sprayed some on the other arm for a comparison. I am probably going to get myself drummed out of the perfume corps as an drooling idiot, but here it is: I liked the Bleu better. It’s not as sweet on my skin, and a little green.