What is going on here? Dear heavens; look closely...that's...that's...a vintage bottle of Apres L'Ondee in the parfum. And it is...on ice.
Is it time for the flashy newsmagazine reporter to jump out of the shadows and revoke some perfumista licenses? Or time for FDA enforcers to stop this terrible new trend of infusing cocktails with body scent, because, as IFRA has taught us, they can kill you.
Or should Miss Marple just gather her tea and think for a moment?
(Go ahead. You think. What is going on here? You tell me. I'll tell you in my next post. There just might be a Parfums de Nicolai nicely for the best yarn, as well as for the most accurate.)
11 comments:
It was the year 2025. I was working as an enforcer for ANOSMiC (America's National Official Scent-Misuse Cadre), as one of the heavies that ensured no guys or dolls were wearing any illegal, prohibited or banned scents in any public or private places. It was a dirty job but I had to pay the rent.
The tip-off was that another speakeasy had opened, where the perps would spray each other and swap decants. This wasn't going to be pretty.
We busted in, mob-handed, and my boss shouted "Put those spray bottles where I can see 'em, you no-good-niks!" Yeah, that would work.
In the scuffle, I noticed a dame sitting with a bishop: he was picking bits of stained-glass out of his footwear. Oh, boy. Something was definitely wrong with this set-up. She had filled her glass with ice and filled her glance with more. I could see the frosty reception but I couldn't stop myself from going over.
"That your usual tipple?" I asked.
"No. I'm waiting to toast the health of your squad when you leave." A voice to make things stir in the undergrowth.
"What makes you think we're leaving?" Just to keep her talking.
"There's always life after the shower." Too cryptic for me.
I shrugged, picked up the glass and took it with me. At the door I stopped, turned and, after I'd waved goodbye to her, dropped my card where she could see it.
Like I said, it's a dirty job but maybe some-one in this line of work could come out smelling good for once.
****************************
Never could resist a mystery!
cheerio, Anna in Edinburgh
Tale #1: Old bottle. Stuck stopper. On ice to cause tiny contraction of the glass so that the stopper may be removed.
(And just what is in that standard Caron bottle to the right?? Inquiring minds want to know.)
Tale #2: A gathering of perfume-worshippers are initiating novices into the coven. The Ondees on ice will be used to anoint the new initiates. Later meetings will bring out the Poison, the Opium Secret de Parfum, the vintage Miss Dior, the original Vent Vert... and all are sworn to secrecy.
Tale #3: A mysterious woman, secretly a member of the Mafia sent to assassinate spies, is about to mix James Bond a cocktail. Only she's gotten distracted by his debonair manner and put her Ondees on ice, instead of the vodka.
No yarn here.
Presuming it's a very classe unsticking of the stopper. I do, being from DE, like the muses' initation into the coven.
As to the Caron - PS, or NdN? Aren't they usually the ones recommended for initiates?
Look like a great time & really, REALLY sorry I missed it.
Oh, I am already having fun. :)
Keep 'em coming. I'll give a clue to the Caron...by offering the number 119...
No, that's not all I'm going to do. I'm going to give a hearty wave to Anna in Edinburgh, who I have bumped into amongst the comments at other blogs. {BIG WAVE!}
I'm also going to say it's nice to hear Muse's voice over here, and to ruminate Anonymous' way about the number of letters and signficance of starting consonant shared by "Caron" and "coven"...hmmm....
Miss Ondee two-timed Johnny "The Nose" Guerlano. Johnny put a contract out on her and Miss Ondee was iced. She was cut up five ways, pieces of her now in three different cities.
As the person who iced Ondee, it's fun to see the guesses as to what was going on in that hotel room. I won't be giving anything away by telling everyone that our nefarious plan was almost hindered by a very recalcitrant ice machine that gave up only a few measly ice chips.
Nancy
Ahh, 119... the plot thins in the most admirable manner.
I bow to Anna's lovely noir story. It made me smile.
just waving back and seeing developments - loving the "iced" Miss Ondee and the coven.
So intriguing, and I can't wait to see what comes next:-)
cheerio, Anna in Edinburgh
This is a temporary expedient because your perfume fridge is hors de combat. The bubble wrap on the outside of the glass is to protect the bottle in the event of the cat knocking it over. Which in my house would be a foregone conclusion.
Is this from the same place as The Non-Blonde's bottle?
Nancy left poor Ondee in pieces across America.
Muse, I agree; Anna's story is much fun. Your "plot thinning" tickled me, too.
Ha! FS, count on you to put the refrigerator front and center. Funny, when I opened up this window to reply, one of my cats tried to leap up into the real window just above me. Which is currently closed. Had Ondee been here on this workspace, she would have indeed been a goner. As for the source of the bottle...I don't think so, but I don't know for sure. Mine came by way of a friend who collects and has much better scouting abilities than I do.
I'm gonna just clap from the cheap seats, okay? these are great!
xo
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