Just an hour before I am about to take the train down to London yet again, for my judging, tomorrow, of the Perfume Extraordinaire and Best Independent Perfume award at this coming May’s Fragrance Foundation Awards at Elizabeth Arden (so exciting!) and then in the evening, my debut Vanilla Thing at New Cavendish House (tomorrow is going to be VERY busy nasally) there arrives, just in time, a spectacular package from the marvellous Daisy Bow – that bacon-lovin’, French-teaching intellectual from New York who seems to epitomize the intelligent fun, epicurean approach to existence – containing, miraculously and to my great delight, a package of obscure treasures that included a very generous spray sample of what was the missing ingredient from my vanilla talk tomorrow at Perfume Lovers London: Tihota by Indult.
Tihota: the longest-lasting, creamiest, musky, salty, skin-lickin’ vanilla that ever existed – a vanilla that may or not be your own cup of vanillic tea if you like the volume turned down on your spoons of fat-accumulating ice cream, or must have your lustrous, pure vanilla beans barbecued, bamboozled and skewered with a load of unnecessary facets like many of the twisted perfumistas out there (or like my mother, who has just grimaced and said a big UGH……….YUK, it just smells like a great big cake, a pint of foul vanilla essence…….UH!!!! as my father simultaneously utters an unexpected NOW THAT IS REALLY LOVERLY and attempts to spray a whole load of it on his left hand, me pulling it back violently to save some back for Thursday) but which should, surely, in any case, form a part of any relevant discussion on the topic of vanilla planifolia/fragrans/ tahitensis.
Tihota: a perfume that was brought back, not long ago, to thigh-expanding life after its cruel, sugar-severing discontinuation, as vanilla lovers the world over marched in protest on the streets of New York, London and Lahore; tore out their hair from the roots, ululating:unctuous tongues splayed fat, and longingly; slaking in sweet, bloody desperation for its return, unable to live another day until a viable and sustainable supply of this thick and edible vanilla pod elixir were guaranteed and secured for perpetuity.
A perfume that is always sold out or on back order wherever you look, and one that I had, unfortunately, given up hope of having as part of my vanilla-fest tomorrow.
No longer. Because now, as I happen to be coming into contact with some truly quite fabulous people the world over since starting The Black Narcissus, all the podtastic members of the club will be able, if they haven’t smelled it already, to begin the evening with the sweetest, vanilla-est, most complete – some might say sickliest – vanilla that there ever was.
Thanks Daisy
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