Perfume

Perfume tells us something about the wearer. Like steak it can be blue, well-done, medium well and burnt (and everything in-between!) Whatever way a person prefers it the depth of the scent has a way of staying with us long after that person has left the building.

I have three most-worn perfumes, Oscar de la Renta (the original), Paloma (by Paloma Picasso) and none at all. All three have endeared themselves to me over the years because of their subtle piquant natures and the whimsical way that we’ve played nicely together over the years. Like old friends enjoying each others company. Who are your favourite friends?

It’s a sad but true experience that a person’s last or lasting impression can sometimes hang in the air like a bad smell. Take elevators for instance. In particular, being mugged in an elevator by the wearer of cloying, ‘let-me-out-at-the-next-floor’ that can literally leave us gasping for air. What is that?

I thought perfume or aftershave was meant to be subtle (at least, the best ones I know are!) What are people thinking when they leave their finger on the spray button too long, I mean, can’t you smell when enough is enough or when enough steps over the line to be overwhelming? Possibly not given the number of times I can feel overwhelmed in a day.

Yet perfume wearing is such a personal thing and like the wearer it’s as individual on as many individuals as it happens to find itself. Do you think it changes our personalities? Can it make us better? Is that a good thing? Why can’t we be who we are? Isn’t it just an accessory like any other accessory? So many questions! Last one, promise. What do you think?