Please tell me that I’m not the only person wandering around a beauty department that doesn’t have a signature scent. I roll my eyes when books on style dictate that I should have acquired a characteristic perfume by now. I can’t even commit to a favorite pasta noodle so why would I have one preferred fragrance? What if one day I’m feeling fun and flirty and go with a floral scent? Or a week later I’m sensual and wanting to smell like I rolled around in musk and what else do they put in there? Sandalwood? Perfume monogamy is boring; I’m a complete philanderer. Why is that term only applicable towards men? I’m changing it for this blog – it’s now in reference to my scented smuttiness.
Having more perfume’s and Oud’s than I know what to do with, I have atomized myself with the realization that I will never tire of trying different fragrances. Some scents bring back peculiar memories, like the time I was out clubbing as a teenager wearing enough Chloé for most of the guys in line to sniff my hair happily. I actually wrote the company a letter telling them that I momentarily felt like the piped piper of perfumery and that their combination of flowers and musk did wonders for my self-esteem. I never did get a reply back and somehow convinced myself this was because they loved my letter so much, sat around a large table discussing possible marketing strategies figuring out which model would head the campaign that they forgot to mail my lifetime supply of Chloé products and a letter of gratitude.
This winter I have a few favorites, I don’t know how long our rendezvous will last but each one has a special place on my overcrowded dresser. (Some don’t even make it to the dresser) Tom Ford’s Champaca Absolute is absolutely sexy. That’s the kind of perfume that can get a gal into trouble, like say… a cute man diving into your neck. I won’t elaborate further. Dior’s Amber Nuit follows suit, it’s my nighttime perfume and I’ve always received sniffs in multiples when I’ve worn it. Yes, I know, that’s creepy. Amouage Fate is my classic, it’s a bit strong at first, but settles delicately for hours on end. You either love it or hate it. My best friend felt that I should have given her forewarning before I sprayed it because she now knows how bugs feel when I spray them with repellant. Two of my other friends could take a bath in it.
I won’t lie; if the packaging is pretty I’ll gravitate towards that bottle as if I have rockets in my stilettos, like Kilian’s Good Girl Gone Bad. It’s not overpowering and I’m horrible at describing how this stuff smells so I’m just going to say it borders between pretty and sexy. Triple points for the name, the case for the perfume, which can be used as a clutch or jewelry box and the gold snake because most dark haired girls with hips think they’re Cleopatra reincarnated. Ok, so the generalization only extends to my friends and an inebriated blond girl I met at a Halloween party who asked me if I had a bowl of asps and was convinced that the snake bracelet around her arm was moving.
All photos and obviously creative and original drawings by Minelle Mir for Maison Minelle