I have just woken up from a nightmare in which I was trapped in a hotel room in the Czech Republic with my Japanese boss. I was stressed out of my face despite the fascinating array of characters that kept appearing, yet amid the maelstrom, being chastised for lighting a candle in the middle of class (‘but I just wanted to create a nice atmosphere!) I still somehow managed to discover on the way there an intriguing (and actually non-existent) perfume for about 4 Euros – something ‘-issima’ by Armani, spicy, adulterous, leathery and fur-coaty- outside the window of a Czech curiosity shop (I had been in Mexico, but suddenly I went over the border and it was Eastern Europe). I wanted it, and there were other things in there as well, in the dark interior of the shop, really rare looking Carons and their like in beautiful bottles that I was desperate to own but was then dragged away. Thank god that Duncan woke me up with a cup of tea just at the moment that I realized that I and my vicious castigator would be sleeping next to each other and that I would not get a second’s sleep. I could feel my throat closing over. This often happens to me, though. I dream about perfumes that don’t exist. And I can physically smell them.