These last two weeks I have been trying not to use my right hand. I have been dictating vocabulary rather than writing it on the blackboard – more useful when you think about it – typing on my phone with my left thumb (fairly successful); chopping vegetables lefthandedly (far less successful – I look ridiculous) : stapling and doing up buttons (ditto) and leaving all the washing up and making of beds and other duties to D, who comes home to a heap every evening but so far is being very understanding. The situation is better than it was, a bit – I still haven’t had it checked out professionally but might on Monday – which is why I am having a quick type with both hands now as I have woken up in a very good mood and the sun is divine after the foul grey gloom of the previous days – just been for a lovely frosty sparkling morning bike ride – and I felt like saying hello, how are you?
Whatever I have got – RSI, slight tendonitis? – the worst action seems to any clenching or pinching of the index finger and thumb, which is exactly what you do when you spray on a perfume. As I mentioned before, we have been spraying a whole bunch of fumes into little atomiseurs to take to Hawaii; that and writing too much fucked the fingers up into their current claw like state, so I am loathe to use scents right now that require a big old push to get any smell out. The ideal is instead a perfume like Roseberry – pictured above, my February work scent, probably not entirely suitable and yet somewhat suitable, which has one of those delicate little mechanisms that allows just the very gentlest pressing of the top to let out a soft spraylet of a few microdots of freshly emitted scent to alight on the back of your hand: meaning that if you feel like a subtle top up at any time, naughtily in the elevator doing down, as you contort your claw to writhe like a twisted pteradadon into your coat pocket to take out the green and pink liquid in time, using pressure, rather than your forefinger, to release the rosine, you get a measured rush of the strange and delicious top notes – green aldehydes, chamomile and wine lees, along with some luscious Turkish rose – but not an overwhelm – and then continue on your way.
If you want a proper spray – after work, say – then you can have one. The design of the bottle allows for this eventuality. Just push harder. The point being, why can’t more perfumes be like this? You should – always – be able to judiciously choose how much you want to use at any given time when you are deciding how much scent you feel like wearing; the extrait strength perfumes by Puredistance, for example, are appealingly stored in their sleek glass tubular bottles, but they provoke fear; you know that when you spray them you will be getting a full thwack of dosage that comes on too strong; an oil patty to the throat; precious particles wasted as they fly beyond the confines of the wrist, landing pointlessly on the edge of the desk; on the carpet.
Plenty of other perfumes – especially some vintage vaporisateurs – which are like petulant, over or underworked hose pipe urethras, are often nothing short of disasters.
Some just leak down the sides of the flacon, eventually accumulating in thick drops of coloured water that drip in unexpected places – I had an oleaginous fiasco with an old Diorissimo extrait the other day ; hands soaked in dribbling muguet juice like a hag in Grasse;
; the worst ever occasion, though, definitely being a precious Monsieur de Rochas that once pressed, never stopped spraying as though it were on a whizzing suicide mission; two or three tries and the whole thing had gone, like the Wicked Witch Of The West fizzling out in her black crinoline dress but without the turned up clog slippers.
When you spray on a perfume, you don’t want to be soaked
(do you agree with me that it can sometimes just be far too much?)
—- – – so thanks very much to the designers of the bottles at Rosine, whoever they are. For a temporarily enfeebled perfume lover, these small – but actually huge – manufacturing details – can make all the difference.
The Black Narcissus 
Totally agree, a good sprayer makes all the difference! I usually have the opposite problem with nozzles—one full press yields a stingy amount because the nozzle is too low by design, for example. My favorite is the kind that you can continue to press down and release liquid accordingly, such that one swipe goes across the torso. Maybe we are talking about the same kind as I would imagine a little pressure would release a little perfume, in proportion. I hope you get a proper answer and solution on Monday so you can make a full recovery.
Grazie.
And yes – I think we are talking about the same kind of spray.
ouch! must stop writing (today’s post is a mistake! hopefully amusing though)
Never a mistake! Hopefully soon readers’ pleasure won’t be at the expense of your pain.
I hope it gets better, but if it doesn’t, I hope you will get it checked out by a specialist.
I will ! Thanks x
It’s not actually that bad – but need to be careful
Anyone reading : the subject here is hoped to be the scintillating topic of spray nozzles, not my crappy bones
I love a good sprayer! The ones that produce an ultra fine mist that covers my forearm with one press. Perhaps it is wasteful of the perfume. But I so enjoy the sensation of elegance from the application.
I agree! A good sprayer is very important to the joy of perfume of perfume application!
It so is.
Fine mists are delicious
Your better wrist made me smile, your hag and witch analogies made me laugh outright.
It is I who is writhing on the floor 🙂
Thank you and get better soon!
An unreliable source told me that denatured alcohol can be used to “ungum the works” for fragrance spray apparatus. I do know that certain spray heads, etc. are detachable and/or capable of being re-assembled.
That would require a much more practical and dextrous person than myself!
If it is any consolation, I have a severely damaged finger that gives me fits at times.
In full agreement about the importance of the nozzle function, although I had a nozzle that was so stingy it made me angry.
I love how mischievous your phrases (and choice of pictures) become when you are having a really happy day – ‘oil patty to the throat’ is disgusting and will really stay with me!
Very best of luck with the hand/arm treatment. I have been going for physio for months now for a very painful shoulder (the only thing that has ever caused me to cry with pain) and for some reason I was really skeptical that it would help, but the regular exercises have made a huge difference (I can sleep). But doing the things that aggravate is not sensible (speech to text software?)
I didn’t know you had this shoulder problem. It is truly misery inducing, isn’t it?
Glad it has got better. Do I have to go to a physio myself (I know I probably do), or are there specific things I can just do by myself?
My dad has this really badly – excruciatingly – on a daily basis. I suppose I have just inherited it before my time
I’ve also found spraying joy with Rosine! What a difference it makes. Hermes slim bottles are good too. Except that they require frequent reapplication…
Sorry to see you’re still having trouble with that pincer grip. I had the same; there was a wonder solution I wish I had found much earlier…I mentioned it in an earlier comment. I do hope your specialist will suggest it. Good luck to you.
Good sprayers are so hard to come by, especially on vintage, where they continue spraying, and you have to forcefully pull the nozzle head up to have it subside. I do wish more were like your Rosine bottle, I do hate wasting fragrance.
I hope you figure out what is going on and receive appropriate treatment.