For a while now, I've not been wearing perfume... mainly because I kept losing the bottle - so I really only have myself to blame.
I love perfume, in a kind of, love the image of some sophisticate wafting around with a hint of her signature scent revealed only to the few who get close. I think I had that (minus the sophisticate and wafting bits - i'm 'eccentric' and i clump about...) for a bit with my Angel Innocent parfum... but part of me post-school relationship has been subconciously stopping its use by being disorganised and messy so as to prevent finding the bottle for that fateful spray.
So I've moved on. Innocent is definitely in the past - along with my shame, sense of sartorial decorum and the various toxic relationship issues I've had... I do remember very vividly being told by an ex that my perfume lingered on his pillow, making him think of me all the time. Now, sweet as that may have been, I have no desire to return to being that person...
On to the future I declare... being without a scent for nigh on 10 months has been excruciating. There is something about perfume that is so erotic, so mysterious (I'm not talking about the cloying, sweet and mass marketed variety here... god help anyone with Jade Goody's perfume as their signature scent... [oh god, I'm being a snob... *slaps wrist* - sorry!] )
It takes quite a lot to plough into the perfume department of any shop, and I hate it. It gives me a headache. So the search had been non-existent really, left by the wayside in a busy life, until the Paris trip...
One of my first ports of call in the city must always be Colette. This shop is AMAZEMENT INCARNATE! Mother and I spent hours in there browsing the music, art, cosmetics and clothes... It is the concept store to end all concept stores... (photos aren't allowed otherwise I would be tempting and tantalising you with the images of decadent yet minimalist and oh-so-french goodness)
The perfume bit is small, yet (cliche coming...) perfectly formed. They had a perfume mixing desk as well as a select few brands to browse. These included Prada, Marc Jacobs' Daisy, Comme des Garcons, Juliette has a Gun and Molecules. On entering Colette, the idea of a new scent had not even occured to me, but the sheer comfort in the perfume zone was enough to tempt me into spritzing a few scents onto various pulse points. Since our hotel was literally round the corner, we were in no hurry to make a choice (unlike the usual perfume hunting expedition where one is watched by beady eyed purveyors of headache inducing toilet-waters...).
After wandering around the rest of the day, sniffing various parts of my arm regularly, I fell in love. The scent I chose cannot be called light, or subtle, but it is not cloying, nor does it leave a trail behind you. It stays where it's put; it lingers like a dark exotic, erotic shadow. It smells beautiful yet damaged... Sigh.
Not everyone will like it - my friend commented that it was a little heavy. It is, but only when stuffed right up to the nose, with its notes of (here goes the list...) labdanum, cedarwood, cardamom, cinnamon, black pepper, honey, clove, nutmeg and sandalwood, my perfume is hypnotic, and, I hope, really suits me; where I am right now; where I'm going...
It's Comme des Garcons' Original... and I'm in love.
Signature Scent glory, here I come!