We are on an absolute Shiseido roll at the moment.
As I wrote recently, the local Shiseido store, less than a minute away from our house round the corner, sadly closed down at the end of last year after being in continuous operation for 57 years. The main things we bought there in all honesty were just (somewhat overpriced) necessities like washing powder, toilet roll and the like, although I occasionally bought the odd Shiseido perfume or product as well, in particular the richly rose scented Rosarium line : it was always nice to have it there.
Now that it has closed down, Shiseido lady is throwing a whole lot of stuff out. Stacks of it. This has been ranging from gifts to me personally, like a rare bottle of Blue Rose Dual Cologne and a magnificent sampling set for Shiseido employees to get to know the perfumes from the former range, including the legendary White Rose, which was worn for an imperial wedding, to random bric a brac that she must have had stored up for decades, such as espresso cups, a tropical mug, stationery, furniture (two old bar stools (?); maps; local residents are excitedly strolling by and picking up tons of makeup – foundations, skin creams – I couldn’t resist lifting some sample boxes of ‘nutrient light emulsion’ on a recent Saturday night in the rain, furtively carrying them under my arms like a thief. Although I am not entirely sure about the actual wisdom of putting old skin products on your face – even she says she doesn’t quite remember how old they are and if they are ok or not – I did worry about waking up looking like Freddy Krueger, red faced and raw, but usually I can tell immediately if creams or emulsions will work on my face, and feel there is an instinct that lets you know if it is for you or not – I have been using Shiseido’s Lait de Beauté Odorless for years, on an off, for instance- I like to add essential oils to it – and this tightening and coolly astringent lotion seems to be alright. Just a bit, here and there.
I thought this little espresso cup was rather nice.
D liked these yellow and green dishes. ‘Not for the cat; for us’.
This framed picture went straight on the wall.
I really like the aquamarine cotton wool holder – there were several of these left on the street, boxed; I had two (one for D’s mum – it will suit their bathroom)- the others had gone within the hour, people surreptiously strolling buy and picking up this and that.
Will this stuff melt my skin off?
A bit tacky? Possibly, but I have been enjoying using it. And you know how I like a bit of tropicalia.
(But does this 70’s shark themed cocktail glass go too far?)
In terms of perfume, I got quite a big geeky thrill about going in and buying the remaining bottles of Koto still in stock- something about them being boxed in bigger boxes, as though they were boxes of cereal- got to me on a textural nerd level for some reason- plus this green narcissus chypre is actually really nice. At the regular retail price of ¥1,500 it is, I suppose, the Japanese equivalent of a ‘drug store perfume’ – it is the sterling equivalent of £7.85, even with this lovely glass bottle – but the fact that it has been going strong since 1967 tells us that it must have something olfactively going for it, just easy and subtle, understated and rather stylish. Light, green, fresh at the beginning, the narcissus aldehydic lily of the valley main theme cedes to a gentle patchouli leather base; essentially a mysterious skin scent. The closest comparison I think I can make to it is the original Miss Dior, but without the bite and the synthetic gardenia overload (although there are gardenia undertones here as well). It doesn’t excite me, but there is a delicacy to Koto that is perfect for just pottering around the house.
Sourire, another green, I got to try from the marvellous old Shiseido set (the vial is top left) – a gift I was so thrilled to receive – she had obviously been saving it up for me.
Like Blue Rose, a much later release, Sourire nevertheless shares a similarly Shiseidian base. If Guerlain has the Guerlinade, which it does, or at least did, then many of the Shiseido classics dry down to the same discreetly musky/ woody base found in the house’s original perfume, Zen, from 1965, one that certainly does not feel current.
If I find this particular phase of the perfume too old fashioned, a little too ‘soft granny’, this is probably because I actually brought back a bottle of Zen for my maternal grandmother when I first moved to Japan, and she would wear it for me sometimes when we went to their house: I thus get an immediately tender, but slightly fusty, hit to the brain when encountering this particular accord, and don’t feel quite right wearing it myself (this brilliant article by Elena Vosnaki of Perfume Shrine deals with the issue of ‘older women’ perfumes in amazing depth for anyone wanting to explore this prickly and very important theme further). Blue Rose starts off a very high pitched Turkish rose, very Japanese young woman in the nineties starting her first office job post university, but then by the end its slightly dowdy and conservative femininity is not to my taste. Nevertheless, I was very pleased to receive it, and I can imagine it being a late night after bath perfume, quite cosy for pyjamas and the sheets.
Sourire is more intriguing, more androgynous, and I would love to get my hands on a vintage parfum one day if I can to see if the green notes are even greener, even if I don’t like it much visually (and, like many eBay vintage sales now, it is catastrophically expensive – what has happened to prices recently?). I just love that tennis green 70’s hot summer slacks vibe by a Californian David Hockney pool that inspired perfumes like Frederic Malle’s Synthetic Jungle: and this definitely belongs in that unique category.
Another freebie I was given as the lady was closing shop one day (she is still in there on a regular basis clearing out) , was a vintage cologne spray of More – a fluffy aldehydic fresh amber delight I consider as being quite possibly the most deliciously powdery and feminine perfume of all time.
I secreted the cologne bottle somewhere for future usage and can’t find it right now – pictured instead is the extrait, which I also have upstairs in the collection. Of the two, I think I find the cologne of More more delightful – so feathery and flirtatious it makes Nº5 seem like a muscle brained hunk. This is the perfume that Marilyn Monroe should have worn (and probably did) – so womanly it almost verges on camp; icing sugar fresh, strawberries- it can actually make me laugh out loud (even as I spray it on with abandon – the vintage version of More is insanely comforting, again at night, as a ‘jama scent – you can just cuddle up into a pink cheeked ball like a chinchilla and sleep, smiling to yourself (this pressed powder, below, yet another gathering, would go quite perfectly with it. Maybe I should try it one night, a human bonbon.)
Thought I would share with you some of my haul, anyway.
Just off now to see what else she might have discarded…
