Offskin, aka The Space Between Us

One of the worst professors I ever had said two of the most memorable lines from my undergraduate life.


The first was part and parcel of satire:  {cue gravelly voiced, tired, tousled, deigning, gray haired presence at front of room, with what might appear to be the somewhat older denizens of Fast Times at Ridgemont High filling seats in a classroom furnished more like a high school than a college} "The mind, class, is like a sieve..."  {Various reactions make clear that this is a refrain as familiar, and perhaps as frequently punctuated, as "...take one down and pass it around..."}


But the other, the one that I have revisited many times: "It was not the icon itself, but the space between the icon and the viewer, that was worshipped."


Score one for Byzantine history, the Orthodox church, and the professor.  This one has not fallen through the sieve, and will not, ever.

•••••
Recently, I have worn two scents that have struck me as beautiful, but never when snarfed/huffed.  Only when experienced as that which floats above the skin.  It wouldn't be fair to say their "sillage," for in my mind the idea of "sillage" is a nearly visible vapor trail that is left in a wearer's wake.  No, this was the air above my wrist, discovered as I leaned over to pick up a paper, or reached up to open a cupboard.  If I tried to put nose to skin to discover the source, I got something different.  It was only as I pulled back that I got a hint of how to find the source.

It was a space above my skin, waiting to be discovered.  It would not be left behind as or after I left the room, but hovered there, somewhere above me, but not exactly part of me.  It took a combination of perfume on skin, plus a "viewer" searching the area above, to discover it.

•••••

"Many people make the mistake of thinking that these images were created as idol worship.  That is wrong.  They were an image of an idol, or perhaps more accurately, a concept, something to be reminded of.  The purpose of the image, which you will notice is rather two-dimensional, was to allow for an interaction between the viewer and the representation.  The act of reflecting, of contemplation, caused the space in between to be sacred.  That space was only "alive" or sacred during the act of contemplation.  


Thus, it was not idol worship, but idol contemplation, if you will; but do not confuse reverence for object deification.  Or, indeed, deification of a person.  It was as if the idol allowed for, in combination with a reverential viewer, a sacred space.  It was the space that mattered, and it only mattered during the act."

•••••
Vintage Houbigant Aperçu and Nina Ricci Filles de Eve are two examples of perfumes that I find are better experienced off skin than on it.  Filles de Eve in particular; when I go in for the close up, it falls apart.  It's all old lady perfume, and not particularly complex.  I persisted in trying it, because I had smelled it on a friend in perfume, and remembered it as beautiful.

The trick of memory was to adjust the preposition.  I hadn't smelled it on a friend; I had smelled it off a friend.

Sure enough, I've caught the cloud a couple of times now.  Much better.  I am still sussing Filles de Eve out, and not sure if I love it, or I am just having fun visiting.  In fact, I may decide I have fun visiting, but don't like it at all.  Aperçu is actually more likely to be my bag, though I am still not sure why.  For one thing, it has more layers to it, at least as it plays out in my nose.  The thing is, taking time to think about exactly what is playing out in my nose is distracting me from that space, that beautiful space just off of my skin.

•••••
I'll be spending time in the future sorting out whether or not I find this phenomenon more prevalent in older style perfumes than newer ones.  As it happens, I am wearing Andy Tauer's Reverie au Jardin as I write this, and this is one that I love discovering offskin.  But, and perhaps and important "but" to consider as I try to sort this out, Reverie au Jardin is pretty faithful in the huff.  What you catch in the cloud is what you find on your skin.  Not that I'm complaining.  Just saying.

Today, I am all about offskin.  This space between us.  Present, perhaps, only when someone stops to contemplate it.

image of Saint Stephen icon from greek-icons.org

Thank You Note to Reverie au Jardin

Since I was epistolary with Denyse, how about I give the same consideration to Andy Tauer's Reverie au Jardin?

Dear Reverie,


I was commenting on another blog the other day, and came across someone else referring to vetiver bundles being sold to "refresh" drawers, particularly in the heat.  By "drawers," I understood them to mean dresser drawers, though with that bunch, you can never be too certain.  On review, however, I feel fairly certain they were referring to a bureau and storage.  REGARDLESS, this was a new something for me, and of course immediately reminded me of the lavender wands I both make and purchase ready made for uses including closets and drawers.  (By which I mean rather small alcoves for storage and the things you pull out from a bureau.  The thought of a lavender wand in my knickers is, well, not even risque, just somewhat or rather uncomfortable.)


I think I rambled again.  Sorry.


So, with this association between vetiver and lavender established via someone else's drawers, and the context of the initial discussion (perfume, natch), my thinkings quickly went to the idea of vetiver and lavender as hot weather nicelies in perfume.  And I immediately went to you, Reverie, the perfume that doesn't hide lavender in syrup, or bury it in a stew of incense.  Your lavender is honest, true--vera indeed.  You are the lavender I find in my garden, that wafts up whenever I brush against those simultaneously soft and nubby stems; you are the lavender that snaps my senses into focus.  You know, in aromatherapy, lavender is listed as having both "calming" and a "stimulating" properties, which seems to be just, well, daft.  But it's true.  Part of it is the amount, part of it is the context.


You, Reverie, are the lavender that sharpens my senses.  But you don't make me hyper; you must somehow hide your calming side, putting it into play without ever letting me know.


These are things you already knew.  I've said them before.  But here is what is new, why I write today:


You are fabulous in the heat.


It is the sharp, somewhat herbal aspect to you that works as vetiver does.  Levelly tenacious, without asserting yourself to the point of obnoxiousness.  And you know what?  There's something easy about our familiarity.  Vetiver is still a guest--a guest that is becoming a friend, mind you--but lavender is family.  Or maybe an old friend.  The best thing is, you aren't boring...there's no way you could be, with your adamant refusal to be anything but your vegetal self.  You aren't boring, but underneath that potentially challenging exterior, you are...known.


And, you devil...you helped me through yesterday's heat and humidity, and you were STILL there, in intermittent puffs, as I worked in the garden this morning.  Clever.


I'm going to let my perfume peeps know about this hot weather trick of yours, if you don't mind.  I think everybody should spend a hot day with you, at least once.  


Yours, as always.
SS

one scent ... or many?

The Holy Grail, versus a wardrobe.

The One, or a scent library.

I don't know if I'll ever return to a search for a "signature scent," my holy grail of perfume.  I do know that when I first started falling down the rabbit hole of scent, I was determined to find a scent that was clearly "me."  And I did find three that came close, any one of which would be a good candidate for the just one scent I was allowed if there were such restrictions in the universe.  They are:

• L'Artisan Fleur d'Narcisse
• Parfumerie Generale Bois Blond
• Tauer Reverie au Jardin

Each is rather distinctive, which is something that would seem to fit "signature" scent by definition.  (Though upon writing that it seems perfectly fair to argue that a person's signature scent could be all about just "smelling good" to the maximum amount of people, or blending in, or what have you.)  Each also has a clear vegetal element, hay, narcissus, lavender, galbanum.  That has proven to be a common "me" element through my descent, even as I learn more notes and my general attractions open up and shift.

But I don't know if any would be on a Top 5, or even Top 10, list for recommendations for a scent wardrobe.  None are scents that appear in the current version of my regular rotation.  And for a fragrance wardrobe, which (for me, at least) needs to incorporate woody, oriental, fresh, classic, and comfort among its elements--see, already five down--I would go elsewhere. Perhaps, following those elemental guidelines:

• DKNY Black Cashmere (or YSL Nu)
• Guerlain Shalimar
• Guerlain Eau de Imperiale  (or Annick Goutal Mandragore, or Prada Infusion d'Iris)
• Chanel Bois des Iles  (or maybe Lanvin Arpege, or Jolie Madame)*
• Givenchy Organza Indecence  (or Guerlain Bois de Armenie, or Parfumerie Generale  L'Ombre Fauve, or Serge Lutens Chergui, or...there are many, many in this category)

I haven't even touched earth or galbanum yet, which I absolutely, positively must have, and could perhaps satisfy with a bottle of Jacomo Silences.  So, I guess, cut the classics, because while I like to have them around, maybe I don't absolutely, positively have to have them.

But then what do I do with Bois des Isles, which is both "me" and "classic" and not ever going to leave my real life options?  Go ahead, bring on your hired guns; you'll have trouble prying it out of my cold, dead hands.  (Oh, dear; apparently too much Mafia Wars and cowboy references this week.)

And what of the rites of spring?  Diorissimo, the ritual dabbing of which from a vintage bottle is already an untouchable ceremony.  Or CB-IHP Black March, which gets used layered and alone for a few weeks just before I can huff the real stuff in my garden?  Or dismiss the gimmicks, and stick with the pained pleasure of En Passant, or Apres L'Ondee?  But if I dismiss the "gimmicks," I'll drop an important element of the rites of fall, too, when Burning Leaves and other smokes enjoy a few weeks of ritual transition.  

Uh-oh, that reminds me of another favorite category:  amber.  Should I pick a sweet one, or something more in the spice range?  Or perhaps a mix?  Or is that going to limit its use to the dead of winter???

Oh, yeah, picking out amber reminds me of another category which deserves a bottle of its own:  green.  And there are so many, which version would I pick?  Diorella?  Bel Respiro?  

I'm doomed for a five bottle wardrobe.  Let's go back to ten.  Then Bois des Isles can be its own category.  I think that's eight categories, leaving me room to pick more than one for one or two categories.  If I don't open up the categories to include florals...or bring back the "gimmicks"...

Dear heavens, I forgot leather.  I absolutely love leather.  

This exercise falls under the category "brain bending futile fun."  If I write it next week, different scents will show up.  If you came to this post hoping for an answer, I don't have one. Is it possible to have a signature scent?  Sure.  Is a fragrance wardrobe a reasonable approach? Absolutely.  

No answers, but I do know is I feel incredibly fortunate that my sniffer works and brings me such silly guilty pleasure.  And that I have discovered an incredibly enthusiastic, sharing perfume crowd who are more than happy to open my eyes (and nose) to new things.  If you are trolling the blogs as part of a regular habit, you know what I mean.  If you are just starting out...well...whatever contours your path takes, it's going to be a fun adventure, and there really is no "right" way to do it.**

*hey, notice how things that are "classic" can also veer widely from each other; and here I haven't tried to include a modern "classic"

**well...except that you should use decants and swaps.  Lots of pain, heartbreak, and cash can be saved that way.

***I am footnoting like crazy today...somebody is responsible...you know who....

****okay, it's not like crazy, and now I'm pushing the convention intentions, but what the heck...maybe one day soon I will go footnote hog wild....