Lately, I've been in the mood to reinvent myself. Perhaps it's the changing seasons or just general restlessness, but I want to feel new. Different.
For starters, I'm growing my hair, not because it feels like the perfect thing, but because I lack inspiration at the moment.
Reinvention through complacency.
Kinda works for me.
Attempting to express my new passive motivation, I decide to wear a perfume that I have pushed to the back shelf: Angel Lily (Le Lys).
Generally, I avoid flankers. While there are a few that dodge the 'we made money on the first perfume, so what the hell, let's put it out there' mold, most leave me yawning and rubbing my eyes.
Exceptions? Hypnotic Poison, Kelly Caleche and perhaps Chanel No. 5 Eau Premiere.
But J-Lo just needs to stop it already.
Angel, Lily's mother perfume, is hideous on me. So bad, in fact, that it has earned the title my sisters and I reserve for those rare times when perfume & body chemistry produce a scent atrocity: Old Lady Butts, or OLBs.
I'm over 50 so I can say that.
And don't get all nervous, this assessment is courtesy of my nose's imagination.
Angel Lily is the antithesis of Angel. It's fresh (minty) and floral, gingerbread men with white chocolate buttons and the finest touch of patchouli. Plus, the bottle is beautiful.
B-man loves this perfume - he always did - but I haven't worn it for probably two years.
'You smell different and really, really good,' he says this morning in our guess-the-perfume ritual.
Ah, Different achieved.
Perhaps, in the end, reinvention isn't always about creating something new, but simply returning to what works.
I'm still growing my hair.
Picture from Fragrancenet.com