A rose by another name and yet it calls with a scent so sweet. To fall into a color, it’s warmth like a dip into the sea.
I need perfume in my life, in all of its forms. Admittedly, it is my olfactory coffee or glass of wine, seeing me through from morning until night. But those liquid elixirs that we dab and spritz–or walk through in a cloud à la française–what magic they make. I have been thinking about this since yesterday, after reading yet another fine post by Lanier Smith at Sents Memory. While Lanier usually writes an exquisite short story inspired by a certain perfume before reviewing it, yesterday’s discussion fell to the House of Guerlain, one of my favorites as their long-standing use of quality ingredients endears their products to my fickle red-head skin.
Different scents for different lives within lives or even lives within a day. It is a tool of the least utilitarian sort possible, to cajole or coax or proclaim certain aspects of who we are or wish to be. When I was acting, I would always choose a perfume for my character (my favorite match being Fendi’s “Theorema” for the role of Cleopatra) and a quick inhale at the wrist backstage would always cement me in the circumstances. These days with my memory as wobbly as a child in her mother’s heels, I can reach back in time via certain perfumes as directly as Proust biting into that spongy madeleine.
A bag made of red voile is tucked in the back of my medecine cabinet, one that previously held a welcomed gift of Rouge Hermes from my sweetheart but now is a retirement home for nearly empty bottles of deeply loved scents. I pulled it down gingerly, knowing that I had something from Guerlain in there. Ah yes, Jicky. Created in 1889, it was something of a revolution, being one of the very first to use a mix of essential oils and synthetic molecules and the first to be designated by the word perfume. Take that, Coco Chanel.
I annointed myself with the tiniest bit and inhaled. It smelled differently somehow! Had it turned? No. Had I changed? Yes and no but that wasn’t it. But oh, it felt wonderful to be wearing it again, to be wrapped in something so…familiar…Later in the day that nagging feeling hadn’t left me. A quick search on the internet gave me the answer–Jicky’s olfactory notes? Lavender, rosemary, bergamot, rose. Yes! La Provence! How hadn’t I thought of it sooner?
In this context, it evokes something else entirely than when I wore it roaming the steely corridors of Manhattan. I no longer need a ticket to escape but can take in the blossoming roses all around me. A rose by another name and yet still as sweet.
I am wearing it now…
–Act Two, Scene Two. “Romeo and Juliet” by William Shakespeare
Hello Heather
Your images here are like paintings. Truly marvelous. Jicky sounds delightful. I am unfamiliar with this. For the past few years I have been wearing Angel by Thierry Mugler.
I've been travelling Heather and now just catching up on my favourite blogs
Helen xx
Jicky is lovely, mais tres cher, no? Hope there's another beautiful bottle of it in your near future ( hint Remi:-). I have to admit to being a huge fan of Shalimar, though I have yet to own any. Perhaps, one day. Such beautiful images accompany your lovely story today, Madamoiselle.
Beautiful…post…and Beautiful happens to be my favorite cologne. I wear a new cologne on each big trip though. …Then when I want to transport myself back to that part of the world…I just spray or dab a bit on….Janey
Whimsical and nicely done.
I need you to convince them for me, N! I am all for it! Sponsored posts and everything! Tehee. I do love their perfumes. I tried on "L'Heure Bleu" today but sadly, it is not for me yet–something to rock in my 60s methinks. But oh that sucker dried down beautifully and then didn't budge!! Perfect.
I know you to be an Hermes type of lady, yes? Me too but Guerlain works best on my wonky skin.
You are very guerlain! You could be the spokesperson / model for it in Provence! X
No perfumes allowed! Really?? Oh my. I can't imagine.
What a strange world we live in. Are there really so MANY people allergic to perfume? I somehow doubt it…?
But hooray! Go be a rebel, Lorrie! 🙂
I love the idea of your choosing a scent to play a role in the theatre – how delightful! I love wearing a light rose scent. Perfume seems to have fallen out of favor here. I hear complaints of "I'm allergic" and so many places have "no perfumes allowed" signs – doctor's offices, hospitals, churches, etc. Many people have stopped wearing scent entirely and that's a loss, I think.
Thank you for this post. I'm going upstairs to spray on some scent!
Thank you, friend. But Tabu! I can't get over that. What a racy scent!! We are all so boring now. So many women want to smell like cookies…
Oh how I love this post. The words and photos are perfection. But more, it reminds me that my mother used to wear perfume. Tabu was her scent…. and that I have several mostly unused bottles of perfume, gifts, and one from a teenager in Morocco. As usual, Heather, you remind me and make me pay attention.