Since there have been a dozen rose posts, this might a good time to take a breather, go back, and re-cap.
For all the complaining that perfume consumers do about the industry these days, one thing is inescapably true: there’s more variety. Once upon a distant time, Perfumer’s Workshop produced Tea Rose and Houbigant sold A Rose is a Rose.
That was about it in 1976. Now you have entire lines devoted to the flower in all its variations. Les Parfums de Rosine is one such house, and besides its twenty or so perfumes, there’s a slew of mainstream releases popular with the public such as Stella, or Valentino’s Rockin’ Rose.
Every summer for years, my family would pack up the station wagon and drive north to Long Island. There we would chug as far as Bay Shore and then take a ferry out to Fire Island.
Now Fire Island, for those who do not live in the New York Area, is (was?) a rather humble resort built on a very long sand bar sticking out into the Atlantic Ocean. It is distinguished from that other Long Island based summer playground The Hamptons by the much more modest nature of the people who go there. If it’s Polo in the Hamptons, then it’s table tennis on Fire Island, or if it’s foie gras in Sag Harbour, it’s clam chowder and weenies in Lonelyville. We had a rackety old beach house there, and would spend four flip-flopped weeks every summer simply going back and forth to the beach and acquiring a tan and getting scratched by the miles and miles of rugosa roses that (along with poison ivy) grew all over the island.