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
Oh that is just gorgeous, Jeanne. And so like you to "save" Coco Mademoiselle for the special occasion of a surprise visit to Paris–even if it is only an olfactory one.
Lipstick Rose sounds like a wonderful perfume–just the right notes for an elegant, lovely person like yourself.
xo
There are many out there! Just Google it. 🙂 But the use of synthetics is not always a bad thing–for example it is a FAR better way to create a musk scent than killing a civet for it! I just don't personally like an all synthetic scent as they tend to turn on my skin and they have a far higher phtalate level.
A great resource for natural beauty is http://beautycalypse.com/.
Really?… I didn't expect that the grand brands use synthetics. Does anybody know
a parfum brand which is pure?
Sensations of memory return with perfection. All the pearly pastel colors with a touch of blue-wonderful.
Scent is so very powerful, isn't it? I know my sister's favorites, my mother's, mine. Your photos are beautiful in their simplicity and shade. Yummy.
One agency for which I volunteer has become so political correct or sensitive perhaps, that I often see signs in the ladies room asking that females be 'scents-able' about the fragrances they wear – in fact it goes so far as to ask that they not wear anything out of respect for others who may have allergies. You've made me again think, "Oh yes, another reason I love Europe!" I must go spritz myself with a scent right now. . . xo J.
Beautiful, Heather, and such a smart observation about the power of scent. (How much do I love that you chose a perfume for your characters when you were acting!?) I've been wearing one perfume only for about the past 7 years – I used to wear two, one for spring and summer and the other for fall and winter, but I've edited down to just the summer scent, Frederic Malle's Pink Lipstick, which I found in Paris in 2001. It's hard to find in the states, so I'm pretty much the only one in the room wearing it. I wore it when I met my husband and when we were married, so it will always have a special spot on my dressing table. Another scent that I love but never wear myself is Coco Mademoiselle – two of my friends each wore it on two different girls' trips to Paris. I would never wear it myself because I love being in a crowd and catching an unexpected whiff of it – it takes me right back to Paris. If I wore it myself, that transporting moment would be lost. Such is the power of scent.
Hope you are enjoying a delicious week – I am thinking about the scent of a canard and Cantal tartine! XO
How exciting! I just had a look! Thanks for the tip!
Cheers,
Deb
I do! A friend gave me the leftovers of her bottle a few years ago and wow is that strong stuff. I am not courgeous enough to wear it these days.
Mitsouko seems like a very "you" scent. 🙂
perfume wise i love guerlain as well – mitsouko was on my vanity for years! along with anais anais by cacherel, oh and giorgio beverly hills, remember that one?