Single note floral perfumes used to be short lived on the market. Back in the day they were called “handkerchief” perfumes because in the pre-Kleenex era, you sprinkled a drop of rose or lavender water on your handkerchief rather than your skin. Those little fragrances “sent bons” were miniature essays in the perfumer’s art. Not many of those perfumes survive today. No one wears Yardley’s Lavender, or Coty’s Jasmin de Corse, few wear Tea Rose the big late seventies hit from Perfumer’s Workshop, and Creed Fleur de The Rose Bulgare is diluted out of recognition- which makes me wonder- which are the new classic soliflores? Which ones will survive for decades on the consumers’ skin? Continue reading
Some people can’t pass Delis, some people can’t pass an Apple store, some people stop reflexively to look in the windows of jewelers, but my weakness is for flowers (when it isn’t for perfume) and so I have a hard time passing gardens by. I wonder what everything is, and, having this nose and this curiosity as constant companions, what everything smells like.
Roses are a particular hazard for me. There is almost no rose I don’t like, although I’ll admit to battling black spot grumpily. (It’s the sprays. Nozzles, old technology that they are, always get twisted in the wrong direction, and I end up spritzing myself, which is a powerful motive for organic gardening chez moi.)
To return to flower beds, though – one in a commercial property near my neighborhood was neglected. Continue reading