I applied too much.
Let this serve as Exhibit A for rotating perfumes and wearing them more than once every year or two. Otherwise, I base the number of sprays or dabs on my memory of its sillage and lasting power. Judging from my recent miscalculations, I must face the painful truth: I can't remember shit.
Alone in Philidelphia, three years ago, I came across Tea for Two in the Blue Mercury boutique downtown. The day was dark, rainy and I was giddy with the thought that no one on earth knew exactly where I was or what I was doing at that moment. All of this heightened my illicit love-at-first-sniff affair.
The first spritz of Tea for Two took me back to the smell of F&F cough drops on my dad's breath when he was fighting a cold. I loved that smell. If you watched JFK's funeral on TV as a toddler or can hum the theme song to Lost In Space, you may remember them, too. If not, let me try to explain the aroma.
Imagine the blackest, most bitter licorice possible, tossed in axle grease and Dijon mustard, then rolled in smoky ashes. Mom thought they tasted nasty and, Oh, My God, they did. She tried to tell me this. Still, convinced I would love them, and that Mom was unfairly withholding them from me, she finally gave in to my whining. The cough drop lasted about 10 seconds in my mouth before I walked into the bathroom and threw it in the garbage. Then I said to my mother, ' if you think I threw away my cough drop, you're wrong.'
This might explain why B-man has always cautioned me against pursuing a career in espionage.
Once the top notes fade, Tea for Two gets spicy - chai tea on steroids. Honestly, it starts to bug me and I begin wondering if we aren't facing a break-up due to irreconcilable differences. Fearing another Parfum Sacre moment (read here) I attend the day's meetings sitting as still as possible to prevent rogue sillage from taking over the room.
Now, hours later, left with the drydown of lukewarm, formerly iced coffee, I wonder if Tea for Two is another lost love. The perfume itself may never live up to the memory of its discovery.