In which I reveal a little too much about my thought processes
The Keelhauler's not crazy about it, either, now that I think about it. And when I recommended it to my friend Peaches, who is herself a perfume connoisseur, she sent back a message deeming it "interesting."
There is a certain social responsibility that comes with wearing perfume, in terms of quantity primarily, but there's no real way to arbitrate preference.
If I had my way, the following perfumes would be eliminated: Chance, the entire Calvin Klein line, and anything with the word "jeans" in the name. (Also, although I've never smelled it, there is apparently a perfume called "Hummer," which is troubling on a number of levels, not the least of which is its bottle, which resembles a truncated armored car. That also would have to go.)
In addition, I would be the only one permitted to wear Chanel No. 19 and 24 Faubourg, because I like them, and whenever I wear them, people spontaneously tell me how great I smell. The obvious question is, Why don't I just wear those all the time? It's part of my "self-defeat" program, so that I'll always have something to obsess over and complain about. So far, it seems to be working out great!
My grandmother always wore Charlie, as long as I can remember, and so that's what everyone gave her for every occasion. Even after Revlon splintered the line into Charlie Blue, Charlie Gold, Charlie Red, Charlie Sunshine, Charlie Silver, and Charlie White, Grammy stuck with the original, and I'll always associate the scent of it with her. Well, a blend of Charlie, cigarette smoke, and Appian Way brand pizza dough, but still, it wouldn't be the same if she'd worn Emeraude or White Shoulders.
My attempt to find a unique perfume is thoroughly absurd, because anything I buy is obviously available commercially to anyone with enough room on her credit card to buy it. Maybe I should create my own perfume. I could use things I like, for example, Fresca, hyacinth, and this grapefruit soap I found at Liberty of London ten years ago. And other perfumes, like Chanel No. 5.
Thinking like this is what brought Jessica Simpson's "Dessert" line of perfume into being. Her marketing team probably started out with a simple idea ("Let's make girls smell like cotton candy!") but the whole concept spun madly out of whack, resulting in skin lotion with edible sprinkles, and something called "belly button fragrance."
Forget I said anything.
Star of the day. . .Loulou de la Falaise