The first person I ever smelled wearing Thierry Mugler Angel was my friend Brix Smith. Brix used to play guitar in the seminal post punk band The Fall, and we officially met onstage during a performance at the Sadler's Wells Theatre in London. The show was I Am Curious Orange, a collaboration between The Fall and Britain’s most electrifying choreographer, Michael Clark. I was dancing in it, and Brix was playing her guitar on top of a giant cheeseburger.
There was disco freak-out part of the show where the music was pounding, the lights were flashing and the audience couldn’t hear us if we talked onstage. I caught an unexpected whiff of perfume and called out, “Who smells so good?” and this girly little voice came back through the dry ice and strobe lights, “I think it’s me.” It was Brix.
That night, Brix was wearing Clarins Eau Dynamisante, and she invited me to her dressing room after the show to try some. It sparked a kinship between two Americans in London who shared a love for perfume and arty rock boys.
Brix and I drifted in and out of each other’s life, always picking up where we’d left off. I lost track of her for a while, until one day on the King’s Road, I smelled this baroque, Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory of a fragrance. Who smelled so good? It was Brix, again. This time, the scent was sweet and strange, strong and soft -- all at the same time. Just like Brix. Just like Angel.