Perfume angst
I've recently decided on my next signature fragrance - it was pure chance, but I tried out L'Instant Magic de Guerlain and it was almond love at first right. I adore oriental fragrances, always have - Samsara is still my standby for when I want to knock people dead - and as my bottle of Poème by Lancôme wore out, I wanted something different, less floral. I've been getting by with various pure-rose things, but they're really not cutting it, and with L'Instant Magic, I keep sniffing my own wrist obsessively.
And this is the pefectly wrong time for me to notice that there's another fragrance that I'd love, love to have. And it's bloody Mitsouko. I mean, it's Mitsouko - almost 90 years old, freaking chypre, the fragrance every ten-bucks bottle of "Parisian" perfume imitates.
Currently I have L'Instant Magic on my right wrist, Mitsouko on my fingers on the right hand, and possible RSI from turning my hand all the time to sniff them both.
(I also have Vol de Nuit on my left wrist, but buying three bottles of Guerlain perfume to alternate would be madness.)
And this is the pefectly wrong time for me to notice that there's another fragrance that I'd love, love to have. And it's bloody Mitsouko. I mean, it's Mitsouko - almost 90 years old, freaking chypre, the fragrance every ten-bucks bottle of "Parisian" perfume imitates.
Currently I have L'Instant Magic on my right wrist, Mitsouko on my fingers on the right hand, and possible RSI from turning my hand all the time to sniff them both.
(I also have Vol de Nuit on my left wrist, but buying three bottles of Guerlain perfume to alternate would be madness.)