I like to think of myself as the perfume girlie. Even though scents and I have a very complicated relationship.
There was a time in my life where I went completely perfume-less for a really long time. There were two scents that I enjoyed, but unfortunately both got ‘stolen’ from me, so I stopped wearing them. It’s a story for another day. Everything else was abhorrent, because it would immediately trigger a migraine. My migraines have thankfully somewhat mellowed out with age — as in, not every single thing on my trigger list affects me daily as it used to — so in recent years I began collecting fragrance again.
But collector is a loaded word. I would blind buy a lot of things, and mostly inexpensive things, because these would be the only fragrances I could afford. I’m a maximalist, and I like VARIETY in most things, so having a small curated collection is definitely not about me. Which means that instead of having one niche perfume, I have fifteen inexpensive ones.
And the bottles! Oh, I love the pretty bottles. I keep all my empty perfume bottles in the same cupboard that houses my grandmother’s Bohemia crystal and bone china. But as any perfume aficionada will tell you, a pretty bottle does not a good fragrance make.
It also took me a while to figure out how the entire base/mid/top note thing works. I would often get enamoured with a top note — and a top note is fleeting — only to discover when I come home that I absolutely hate the base. And ‘hate’ is half the problem. At the worst I would use it to spray right outside my front door, to dissuade my neighbour from the idea that my cats smell. (They don’t. I’ve asked. My neighbour either has hyperosmia, or a grudge against me.) Some of the bases would be a migraine trigger.
And then there’s some things that I like in theory. Like, I love the idea of vanilla or almond. But I think I’ve only found one execution of either that I find comforting and pleasant. Everything else immediately goes into ‘headache’ territory.
Coffee is another thing like that. Who doesn’t like the scent of coffee filling a quiet kitchen on a Saturday morning? But I have yet to find a perfume that would imitate that idea for me.
And, of course, there’s the body chemistry. I recently got a small sample vial of Lacoste’s Pour Femme. I was scenting it day in and day out, not putting it on myself, because I didn’t want to waste it, nor spend any money, and I was absolutely sure that I would rush out to buy the biggest bottle the moment this concoction touched my skin. The notes read well, too. There isn’t a single note in theory that I dislike in there.
And then I sprayed it on myself finally.
And thanked the Lord that I didn’t rush out to buy an entire bottle of this, because on me, to me, it was fucking vile. I’m sure I will encounter it on other women and lose my head for it, but on me, to me, it’s disgusting.
I’m not really sure where this is heading. Well, all of these posts lead to the same conclusion — that of me having enough of pretty much everything. I have a decent amount of perfume these days, and although there are some bottles that have been on my mind for a really long time, I’m okay without them.
For now.
