Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Parfum Sacrilege

Roses are my thing lately.  To feed my craving, I will wear a rose perfume every day this week.  Yesterday was Tea Rose, which is delicious.  Today is Caron's Parfum Sacre.  Some time has passed since I last wore this, but I remember loving it.  My mother loved it.  B-man loved it.  Everyone loved it.


Today?  Not so much. What I recall as churchy-incense-rusty rose, I am now experiencing as spicy-cloying-powdery carnation.  However, I apply Parfum Sacre this morning with the fervor of remembered love, then spend the morning swatting the air like I'm being attacked by killer bees.  

My day looked like this:

'Do I have a headache?'  No, it's Parfum Sacre.
'Am I feeling nauseous?'  No, it's Parfum Sacre.
'Is it hot in here?'  Nope, it's effing Parfum Sacre.

This current trend of my Old Favorites turning into Stinky Mothers feels like nothing less than sacrilege.  I could blame the perfume for changing, but it has been stored properly and it came from the same bottle, so that argument doesn't really fly. 

By about noon, in an effort to redeem myself, I realize I have a choice.  I can slink around all day, jonesing for a shower, or I can put my shoulders back, walk tall and reek with panache, which is exactly what I do. 

On to the next rose.

1 comment:

  1. Enjoy the week of roses. I love roses too, although I tend to gravitate to the darker, more brooding variety. Look forward to reading what you tried next!



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