(Rose 13) – Roses, Take a Bow!

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.

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(Rose 7) – La Bee en Rose

“When I consider every thing that grows Holds in perfection but a little moment;”

Shakespeare on beauty, probably human beauty, since it seems to have been a frequent melancholy observation of his that it’s fleeting.

However, the observation’s just as applicable to the rose.  Even long blooming hybrid teas have a day, at most two, when their bloom and fragrance are at their most intense, and that’s the moment that I always want to find in a rose perfume.

This may be an oddball ambition.  Lots of people find that soliflore perfumes really don’t settle in well on their skins.  There’s a fundamental mismatch going on along the lines of ”We’re members of different kingdoms, you and I. You’re from the Animal and I’m from the Plant and we have got to stop meeting like this.”

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(Rose 6) – The Reddest Red Ever

Is certainly blood, in whatever form, followed by certain flowers. While living in Vermont, I once grew a hybrid tea called Precious Platinum that, despite the name, was anything but silver.  Platinum was a saturated scarlet, so intensely red that a local boy stopped by the garden one day and successfully petitioned for a rose to take to his girl with whom he’d had a fight.

I never heard if they made it up, but he couldn’t have found a redder rose if he’d trekked from one end of the state to the other.  That rose, that particular rose, was the epitome of redness.

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