In The Great Gatsby, Daisy Buchanan is always looking for the longest day of the year, and then missing it, but in my case, it’s the shortest day of the year I look for and generally miss. All cases of seasonal blues aside, this is the time of year loved by firelight and candlelight aficionados, that includes me, and my close associate the cat, who never saw a warm surface she wouldn’t nestle onto.
To go with all this man made illumination I enjoy cozy perfumes with something like a gourmand note. Please notice this isn’t a gourmand. That’s a different matter, and while I like gourmands, I don’t own any. Continue reading
Florals come in all shapes and sizes. Some are fusspots, some are exercises in carnality – tuberose comes to mind – and some are simply comfortable.
Of all these varieties, I find the comfortable ones, the ones with curves and a tendency to sit down on the job quite a lot the most pleasing. They are seldom completely synthetic, since formulae that are molecularly sparse just don’t conjure up the requisite Mae West or Lillian Russell curvature. You need some big juicy naturals there to fill out a bottle. The zaftig perfume is bodacious.
She’s also built for comfort and not for speed, so the formula is never simple or sleek, and the zaftig is seldom a soliflore perfume. In fact I can’t think of a one that is based on a single flower. They need to be big generous bouquets, the sort that fill your arms and start falling all over the carpet. What actually fits this criteria? Continue reading