Like War Of The Worlds, it feels as if the hydrangeas, roots spreading, heads lolling ( some have sprung up in our garden ) have just landed.
Blue everywhere ( we have Japan’s most famous hydrangea temple ten minutes from our house), vivid in the rain, full of the life force ,
Profuse, and beloved; yet I feel they encroach on me: leaden…..eerie
I am painfully aware that I am not ‘giving’ enough on The Black Narcissus right now.
Last year was a flood of post-operative psychology melanged with perfume.
This year is like a desert in comparison. I apologize.
The book IS happening though – and it is extremely exciting indeed, but coupled with work ( don’t ask !), and god knows whatever else ( life : body : future : japaneseness ) I feel… taken by the tides.
the above is a photo I took last thursday when walking The Hill.
It definitely reminded me of The
I picked up one of these yesterday during my lunch break. It was there in a big discount store and I couldn’t resist (not for the equivalent of ten dollars). And when they are all extraits de parfum, and in perfect olfactory condition.
I don’t know how. Probably stored in the dark and the cool by a Japanese person who never used them, just kept them as some foreign-looking trinket. But to me these are little treasures. And I will wear them.
Detchema, admittedly, I have never ever fully understood- I just see it as a No5 inheritor ( but any Revillon lovers out there who want to disabuse me of this notion feel free to enlighten me ; I CAN imagine that it must have smelled lovely, as intended, on a plush fur coat in Paris on a cold winter’s morning).
Cabochard is essential in vintage parfum. There is a 14ml bottle in an antiques shop in Yokohama I have been considering, but I think this compact little bottle is probably enough when I need a fix.
Fleurs De Rocaille, this particular bottle, is the best example of this weepworthy perfume I have ever come across: it smells brand new, with a pale, violet/iris mournful aspect to it that is positively stunning: the same goes for Ivoire, a perfume I adore and whose green notes made me gasp.
And speaking of green – Ma Griffe, in parfum – just lovely. I will wear it with the crisp edt I have and wear occasionally on hot and sunny spring days. Like all the others, this perfume is in pristine shape; unchanged. It’s like a happy reunion with friends : everyone is older but content, in fine fettle; vibrant and intrinsically themselves
…..Apparently a royal variation on Bergmatto di Positano by Floris, appointees to the Queen (didn’t think much of the colour of her suit yesterday, but anyway), and a scent that didn’t make that much of an impression last time I smelled it but one that I imagine must be perfectly nice on Meghan Markle, who from what I have seen, in a couple of love dove interviews, is rather lovely. And very attractive (as, it must be added, is Prince Harry). Quite the sexy couple, really. I wish them well. Not that I am a royalist. But I am not an anti-royalist either – I don’t really have particularly strong feelings either way – but if we are going to have a Duchess Of Sussex then she may as well be someone who is obviously intelligent, compassionate, and who might exert some positive change in the world with her newfound role. Plus, in perfume terms, it must be said, one who, rather than donning the scent of virginal, sacrificial flowers as one might expect in this context – the new, role-burdened bearer of heirs in a lineage of people who could have their heads cut off by their spouse if they ever found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time, instead opted unconventionally, and self-preservingly yesterday, for the scent of sea, and sun: positivity, and happiness.