You know how you sometimes skip a few meals, you go long hours without eating, and you finally start feeling like you're making progress on that last fifteen pounds you want to lose? (Contrary to the laws of grammar, the second person in this sentence refers to me and not to you.) And then, bam, you eat half a pie?
Dismayed by all the terrible perfume samples I'd been wearing (it seemed like it had gone on for a year), I'd almost given up. If I live to a reasonably old age, I thought, I already have enough perfume to last my lifetime. And the lifetime of my children. Plus, if I forget about perfume for awhile, I might find time to actually have children. So I'd stopped purchasing, nothing new for a month or two, and once I'd exhausted these last samples, I could go back to wearing the perfumes I truly love, a foolishly rare occurrence.
Well, KP, I just ate half a pie.
First in Fragrance got ahold of a few last bottles of Comme des Garçons Tar and Garage, offered them up for a reasonable price (€45), and I couldn't refuse. This after I'd noticed Humiecki & Graef Blask ("a fragrance about trust"), bay leaf, red wine, walnut and oud, and how could I not buy that? With all my whining over many of these post-modern unwearables, I wear my H&G's pretty often.
And what's that? LuckyScent has knocked $75 off H&G Clemency, the "mother's milk" one about which I wasn't crazy? I quickly splashed on the last of my sample, and indeed it's too soft and powdery for my taste. So I decided to buy it. (That's called cognitive dissonance and it's a specialty of mine.)
But the real LuckyScent sale find was Hilde Soliani, a line that deserves more praise than it seems to receive. They're all a little foody, but reasonably so, not heavy and cloying like Serge Lutens.
I've already praised Bell'Antonio, one of my favorite masculines, and now I've added Saaliiisssiimo (Hilde Soliani's silly spelling, not mine), which is somehow similar to Bell'Antonio but with licorice and saffron instead of coffee and tobacco, and CiocoRossimo, a chocolate rose that smells like Tom Ford's Noir de Noir, but for adults. Or non-clowns.
Now I'm bloated and I hate myself. And there's still another half a pie left in the refrigerator.
You just ate half a metaphorical pie, and you're craving perfumes that smell like salad dressing (Blask), licorice rice (Saaliiisssiimo) and rosy chocolate (CiocoRossimo).
Are you sure you're not pregnant?