Showing posts with label Ormonde Jayne Woman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ormonde Jayne Woman. Show all posts

Monday, June 21, 2010

Palimpsests


Somebody hid Archimedes under a painting.
There's something of my grandmother in my grand-aunt, and of my Papa in my son.
I'm pretty sure I found Emeraude in my Ormonde Jayne Woman yesterday.

I have been fascinated by palimpsests since I was a kid.  What a combination of issues:  The need to reuse media, and therefore actually *write over* previous text (the idea of writing in, dog earing pages, or cracking the spine of a book was anathema to me until grad school, where suddenly books became giant notepads).  The idea that something lay beneath.  The literal layering of history.  Mysteries to be discovered.

I was just at a family reunion.  Happens every three years, and I see people descended from my maternal great-grandparents that I would never get to know otherwise.  My own two children, who have no cousins and started their lives with only three grandparents and one uncle find themselves suddenly in a world of large, extended family full of cousins (removed in various ways, but still related) and (grand- and great-)aunts and uncles and bodies and noise and immediately observable similarities and a ream of differences.

At these gatherings, I approach a doorway, and hear my grandmother speaking, even though she has been dead nearly ten years now.  I sit behind one of my grand-aunts, and see a gesture that was entirely grandma's from a body six inches taller.  The hauntings are very strong and frequent here.

Of course, these hauntings happen all the time.  I saw one in the face of my first born when he was two years old, when he looked at a new food and his face flashed "curious/wary/preparing to jump in" in a way I had seen on my Papa and my brother.  I see a flash of my grandfather-in-law's impish humor crinkle the eyes of my other son when he prepares to deal out a particular type of joke.  In fact, these are often the most powerful hauntings for me--the gestures, rather than the physical replications.  The cadence and timbre of speech when they echo a person the child was never able to meet.

**
I traveled, as usual, with an assortment of perfume samples.  The one that I came back to in the thick, humid, 94 degree heat was Ormonde Jayne Woman, which seemed at first would be too thick itself for those conditions.  I found myself using it more than once, because it had a delightful "green dust" aspect to it.  A little raspy, as I've mentioned I like, suspended in sweetened green.

It ended up being doubly appropriate, because as we were driving home, I could swear I smelled my mother's Emeraude, as I did when I quietly "visited" her darkened bedroom sometimes when she was busy elsewhere and once or twice dared to venture to the perfume and give it a sniff.

It was, of course, the Ormonde Jayne.

*
Today is one of my favorite days in the calendar, the summer solstice.  As opposed to the equinoxes, when day and night are in balance, this is a day that is a physical manifestation of extremes.  We here north of the equator get to enjoy the longest term of daylight in the year.  In childhood, this was exciting, as it meant rules like "be home when the streetlights come on" were stretched as far as possible.  Always, I feel it is like the moment you crest on a roller coaster; you know things are about to start tumbling away, but for this moment, this day, this dusk, this day into night, it is as full as possible.  And you get to witness it.

Cultures across the globe and throughout history have had various ways of noting this day.  Sometimes I feel that, as I glance up to the sky when day turns to night, whether I am lighting a fire or letting darkness finally fall around me, I am echoing the gestures of people whose language and culture I could not otherwise understand.  They could sit behind me, and recognize my behavior.

Looks like it might be an OJ Woman night tonight.  Or is it Emeraude?


image is the Archimedes Palimpsest, which contains three layers of content:  the painting seen on the right, 13th century prayers, and text by Archimedes.   Walters Art Museum image visible at this article from National Geographic, and this sciencewriter.com article, among others.  See the Archimedes Palimpsest Project here.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Smooth Operators: DKNY Gold, Ormonde Jayne Woman

Smooth, baby...not a harsh edge or transition in sight, never anything too sweet or too sharp...just enough butterfat to sloodge the flavor across your tongue...sliding it would be too fast, you wouldn't have time to let it rest, savor the flavor...yet doesn't sit idle clogging up the inputs, either, always a bit of movement or loft....

Here's the thing. One is greenish, one is goldish, both in color and flavor. Ormonde Jayne Woman makes a confection out of things from the woods, DK Gold makes a confection out of a bodacious flower. Neither whomps you, and neither one will ever back down. They combine at your skin with a little hovering. Not suitable for a light pick-me-up, is either one, nor will they knock you down with just half a punch like, say, Shalimar.

They are just creamy enough to be rich without excess. Someday, I'm going to find a way to indulge the love of Woman to get more than I've been able to via swappery. Gold, on the other hand, is well in hand, because you can get edt and edp concentrations online for nearly a song. Back up bottles - check. Gift bottles - check.


Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Ack! I need a comfort scent


Help. My brain, which I enjoy using, is being taxed a bit.

I planned on spending this post either taking another trip down testing lane (yesterday, I had three scents running up the left arm and two up the right), or talking about a couple of smooth operators (DKNY Gold and Ormonde Jayne Woman), or maybe my reluctant discovery that the House of Chanel might bring me a number of happinesses.

Plus, I've got to discuss how I've had a conversion, and come to understand how a person could find Mitsouko pleasant.

Instead, I'm taking a quick moment to say "UNCLE!" I've been responding to Avery Gilbert's First Nerve blog, and getting into a dialogue that has moved into "is perfume art?" territory. I've obviously been thinking about this for a while...you've heard some of my connections between perfume and music, for example...but am neither an olfactory expert, nor fully thought out on this topic. That was part of the point of starting the blog...not just to natter on about playing with perfume (though I enjoy that, thank you very much), but to figure out where perfume sits in my concept of the world.

Why? I don't know. Some people explore the secret life of bees. Others ponder the virtues of microeconomics. Me, I was having an existential crisis in my personal life, and appreciated having fresh fun territory that I knew my colleagues wouldn't be paying attention to. Plus, I could dive in without worrying about academic posturing. Academic posturing being something I gave up over a decade ago. Now, the alert among you might be saying, wait a minute--sounds like she was just unhappy with intellectual rigor. Not quite true. I was just wanted to keep a sense of play and creativity in my life, and it wasn't happening down the academic path I was forging.

In other words, I said to Academe: It's not you, it's me. And I left.

But I still have fun yammering, and I opened my yap. And, like a dutiful person, once committed, I shall follow through. But methinks I'm going to be schooled.

Speaking of being schooled...Mr. Gilbert runs a wonderfully amusing and informative blog. If you haven't been, do check it out.

Meanwhile, I'm going to get back to my bellybutton, erm, my thoughts about Mitsouko. Actually, given recent events, I think maybe I'll conjure a pairings post first...it's been a while since I came up with cocktail-perfume combinations.