Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Meet Chergui, my new lover
I feel great. I also smell great. Really. But it's not me who smells terrific, it's Serge Lutens' Chergui, and it smells so good that it's making me feel happy.
I haven't the nose to discern what it smells of. It's warm and very rich, with a syrupy sweetness, but not in the least bit cloying. I smell honey and pipe tobacco. But it's more than that, so I cheated and looked it up in "Perfumes". They say "hay, tobacco, iris" and perhaps more that I can't remember, but I'm not getting off this sofa to get the book. Tough luck.
What makes this scent even more enjoyable is that it was a complete surprise, As mentioned in other posts, I trade perfume samples with others. Sometimes people send little surprises and this was one of them. I was expecting L'artisan's Dzongkha, which I posted about twice, can't afford, and so I had made a trade for a good amount of it. In the box with the Dzongkha was a fairly large sample of Chergui. Now, I don't want to go near the L'artisan fragrance. Chergui has seduced me. I am enchanted, intoxicated, in love with my skin and the scent of myself.
I want to bury my nose in it like the neck of a lover. I'm imagining it as a living thing, this Chergui. It's beckoning me, whispering in my ear, looking at me with dilated pupils, stretching out its forefinger to lure me in towards. . .what? I don't know. I have no idea what I'm talking about. This is intoxication, indeed. Chergui, my new lover, has rendered me a babbling idiot.
Is it possible that my absurdly good mood is actually caused by this scent? That would be an interesting discovery, to say the least. Even for a pricey fragrance, it's far less expensive than the average anti-depressant (though insurance won't pay for it, sadly).
Addendum: I looked at the Basenotes directory and someone said of Chergui, "I'm drunk with it."
The word chergui means " An eastern or southeastern desert wind in Morocco (North Africa), especially in the north; it is persistent, very dry and dusty, hot in summer, cold in winter."
If this scent is meant to provoke feelings of the above, it fails, but then again, I've never been to Morocco.
Painting note: Tamara de Lempicka (1898-1980) "La Dormeuse" I used the search terms "languishing woman" and "ravished women" to find an image that suited my experience of Chergui. I'm glad I found a Lempicka. I love her work (oh, what an informed analysis!)