I grew up across the street from a cranky old woman named Mable. My memory of her kinky dyed black hair and perpetual scowl brings to mind Gene Simmons, and vice versa, so when I see Gene on TV, I can almost imagine growing up across the street from him.
|Cranky old Mable.|
My mother would warn me to stay away from Mable, that she didn't like children, or noise, or anyone walking on her grass, so I'd sit against the garage and watch Mom venture over to Mable's/Gene's for chats. Mable was very suspicious and those chats often involved her theories concerning nefarious political plots. She was convinced, for example, that the government was speeding up the clocks to get rid of all the old people.
Which is a perfect segue to D.S. & Durga. The company's fragrance line is featured in every glossy magazine and it's no wonder: its marketing is brilliant. The scents come with clever illustrations and stories, ones that are surprisingly compatible with the perfumes, which are all smart, nicely crafted, good-smelling and a bit too carefully conceived.
Several in the line are rather dry, owning to their Americana themes, and are distinguishable from each other only by a touch more sweetness here or an extra dose of birch tar there. They not only don't stand out among bolder examples of the genre (Tauer Perfumes L'Air du Desert Marocain, Le Labo Patchouli 24, Olivier Durbano Black Tourmaline), they barely stand out among each other.
I suppose my favorite is Burning Barbershop. As its story goes, the perfume was inspired by a bottle of shaving tonics left over from a Westlake, NY, barbershop fire in 1891. Clever. So much so that the perfume somehow smells better when you think of the story. Which means I need to remember the story so when someone says, "You smell...smoky," I can say, "You don't know the half of it!" And then give them the whole made-up history.
Considering all the perfumes I own, you'd think I wouldn't have the time for this kind of commitment. (There was certainly no D.S. & Durga-shaped hole in my collection.) But it turns out I do have the time. Because I've been memorizing the stories, wearing the perfumes, repeating the stories, and getting everything else done, too.
D.S. & Durga is, once and for all, proof that the government isn't speeding up the clocks.
More proof? I was in my 30s when Mable finally passed away and while she never revealed her exact age (what's the point of counting when time is distorted?), she was easily over 100.