GPOYW: Coco.
I recently read Perfumes: The Guide A-Z per Emily’s recommendation, and immediately got obsessed with making a carefully considered, purposefully indulgent investment in an ADULT PERFUME.
My last ADULT PERFUME was Marc Jacobs, luxe and rich with the scent of gardenia flower, a fragrance I love but have hoarded, Scrooge-like, for the past five years or so.
I went to a beauty supply outlet this weekend and bought myself this expensive-but-not-outrageously-so classic, eau-de-parfum that I am still trying to get used to -
(even though it is legitimately beautiful, and Kevin got into bed and cuddled up to me last night exclaiming “YOU SMELL SOOOO GOOD” which does not happen often due to my habit of cutting up raw onions and garlic for most meals and then carrying that smell on my hands for hours, which I actually personally feel is quite delicious)
but mostly, because, where do I spray it?
Not on the wrists, too cold, and I’m far too likely to spend the entire day sniffing my forearms like a weirdo.
Not on the cleavage, too warm and immediate and a little too intense for my uber-sensitive olfactory glands. (I have terrible hearing and worse eyesight, but my nose is sharp and specific. Bad smells — artificial, plasticky smells, as opposed to warm, rich, fishy foody smells — make me very nervous; obnoxious Bath-and-Body-Works stripper-scents make me sleepy and headachey.)
Spraying a careful, economic waft of scent on the back of my neck, ok, that maybe I can do — but then I twist all over trying to smell myself! Am I trailing something woody-floral-amber-funky when I walk through a room? Or does it just make your nose burn?
Regardless, I’m enjoying my adventure with this new scent. Luca Turin writes in Perfume that Coco might still have a “terribly dated…eighties image”, but gives it four stars anyway for its “elegant spicy” composition and “complex, dusky, and exotic dried-fruit odors”. Sounds like something that would taste good with onions and garlic.
