Monday, 27 July 2009

Some sort of love story

Long time ago, when I was young and stupid and read fashion mags almost religiously (along with my mother's nagging, I guess it added to my anorexia and borderline fashion-victimness) and I came across an article on perfumes. Djedi was described as 'the strangest and dryest perfume of all times' and the description was intriguing enough to get me hooked.
Obviously, it wasn't to be had in that small town perfumery nor in the big town perfumery where I sometimes went, one would have to go to Paris, I suspect, and I was 18 or so and a small town girl with small town parents who totally wouldn't let me go anywhere only to spend a fortune on something as useless as perfume.
I never liked those young, fresh, light, whatever fragrances intended for teenage girls. My first real perfume was Le Male. Sweet but rather heavy and with some sort of barbershop pungency that was damn far away from whatever I was offered as suitable for a teenage girl. I got a sample when I was buying some makeup thingy and I was hooked ever since, I have my third bottle now and I've never got fed up with this one.
Then there was Liberté Acidulée from the Les Belles series by Nina Ricci. It blends nicely with the abovementioned Le Male, rendering it somehow more tolerable to mothers who think it weird that girls wear stuff advertised to guys.
Fast forward many years. I randomly got Aqua Allegoria Gentiana from the internetz, the most evil enabler tool, because I like gentians and I liked the picture on the box.
Shortly after, a friend pointed me to perfume blogosphere and I recalled the buried but not dead enchantment of Djedi. I googled something, I read lots of stuff and I was caught. I wandered around sniffing things, discovered the differences, found out how things work... and while learning so much new, I also got the knowledge on the fame and tradition of Maison Guerlain.

At present, I have, lemme think, seven or so of their fragrances. Their Chamade proved one of the biggest disappointments in the perfume world to me - after an enthusiastic review, I bought it without trying and it totally stank on me. After certain research and several other experiences ranging from plainly bad to crazily bad, I discovered that some fragrances that combine white flowers and citruses just turn to a litterbox that hadn't been cleaned for a few days. Or, cat piss, to put it bluntly. Upon further research, I discovered that unfortunately, whatever component combination causes it, it is present in most of the contemporary Guerlain fragrances. No Guerlain for me, I thought sadly.

Meantime, I got to know Helg and we started an ongoing debate (very enriching for me and I only hope that the feeling is reciprocal, I feel way too often that I'm asking silly question) about fragrances and history and whatever other theme sprang up. She gave my cat piss issue a thought and generously sent me several handfuls of samples of rare and/or vintage Guerlain fragrances. I was caught again and decided to give Guerlain another chance. Under the impression that I'd better search for the scents that are not available totally everywhere, I tried Purple Fantasy whose combination of pepper and violets I found interesting but not totally convincing (I mix it with Beige sometimes, Beige is way too elegant for me). I got a sample of Parure which I quite liked, but I wasn't sure whether I liked it enough to actually get it - it has been discontinued for quite a time and not to be found exactly cheap. Following Helg's advice, I grabbed it when I had the chance, to have it and meditate upon my liking later and I didn't regret that, after all, I like it. And the sucrier bottle could serve as an assault weapon, should such a need arise. Helg also told me that Djedi is unwearable and that I'd better get some Onda which she called a modern rendition of Djedi.

And, around the time when I was pondering about Parure, Djedi appeared on eBay. It sold for more money than I would like to spend and for even more that I could afford to spend (and I did have some extra for such case. After some research in the internetz, I was aware of them crazy collector maniacs). Bite it all, I thought to myself. I'll get a sample somewhere for reference purposes and now, being cured from the obsession, I can move on. And then I bought some books and a new tank top instead, keeping the savings for whatever else life may bring.

In another meantime and another mean-place, J. got me a bottle of Fleur de Feu. It arrived by guerilla mail two days ago, along with some yarn. (Indeed, I haven't written anything on knitting since forever, it seems! I'll fix it soon.) Helg has a lovely review, I've limited myself only to enjoying the carnation and pepper combination. I've found at least two Guerlain creations I enjoy enough to reward me for the disappointment and I've found that missing bit of inner peace... and now I can shift my attention somewhere else.

No, you don't see it wrong. The bottle is that HUGE.

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