Monday, May 5, 2008
In which I swoon
Alas, I do not look like the woman above, but for one incredible moment I felt like her. I just received seven 1ml samples of fragrance. This will be a short post (really, from me?!):
Upon opening L'artisan's Dzongkha I said out loud (much to my surprise), "Oh my god." It was so shockingly wonderful to me that I delayed applying any to my wrist for I am about to shower. I wanted to write this down, so I'm not in the shower quite yet (that would be some feat, eh?) I can't even tell you what I smelled! Sheer pleasure is all.
I swooned. I've swooned before, but never over a perfume. I remember my first swoon (and my first boyfriend): Shockingly, in the driveway of my parents' home, after not seeing him for a month, I was intoxicated by his scent. My face on his neck, I drank it in and felt a shiver of complete and utter lust and longing move through my body. I thought I might fall down. Yes, I was weak in the knees. This is when I knew I was doomed, for I realized I could fall in love with another human being simply for their odor.
Art note: Esther before Ahasuerus (detail), ca. 1628–35. Artemisia Gentileschi (Italian [Roman], 1593–1651/53).
Addendum: 3:45pm With some Dzongkha on my wrist and behind my ear, I am in nearly in love with myself. It elicits no memories or imagery for me, but is nonetheless beautiful. Perhaps what I've said before is all wrong. I don't need a cinematic or Proustian experience to like a fragrance. Dzongka is just beautiful. This is one of those fragrances that proves to me that natural does not make a better scent. This wood is not "real" and I like that. Cedar, yes, but not so much that I smell like something other than a human being. I ask you: does that make sense?