I don't want to comment on the name. I curse like a sailor; in our living room, there's a street sign that says "F***-you Alley," and I see low forms of language and swear words as a way to release aggression. I have plenty of reasons for it, and I practice this therapy regularly.
Another form of therapy, an antidote to the bitter seriousness of life, has become the simple, sweet scents for me. Dessert to spray on, quick olfactory carbohydrates. I don't want to conduct an analysis if I'm not being paid for it, not at home, not in my free time.
I want the lightness of marshmallow in my head, to hear "Mom, you smell delicious," instead of being reproached at an unholy 6:45 with "That smells very perfumey."
No damn analysis, no reflection, and no scent that suggests "Noblesse oblige, turn off Netflix, better read Ulysses again or at least Foucault's Pendulum, carry me, the highly intellectual composition with the distinguished notes of burning tires and mothballs."
And "Fuck me tender" fits such days.
Simply to love. Simply to wear. Don't start an inner debate. I switch off and register, extremely pleased, weightless thoughts:
-Oh, smells like heliotrope in Grandma's garden. And a bit like butterfly bush. And the color is the same. And suddenly I'm in my childhood on the peninsula that later turned out to be Pandora's box and... away, away with these thoughts. Marshmallow, Katharina, today you are marshmallow with almond milk flavor.
-Oh, smells a bit like Fleur du Mâle, which I love so much on her. Innocent white flowers united in a bouquet that shouldn't be left near a novice. Baudelaire's flowers of evil, indeed.
-Hm, Alien? Yes, the hated Alien is suddenly tame and even attractive, has reined in its nuclear jasmine, adorned it with orange blossom, and made it a bit more human. Not that this is always a compliment for me.
-Almond milk marshmallow turns into amarettinis, those soft, fluffy, cyanide-laden cookies. A bit toxic, a bit intrusive, but delicious. But no more than 3, or else sugar shock and cavities.
And so it goes for about 4-5 hours. Enough time to recover in my inner migration to the good old days, to reclaim a bit of lightness, and not to think so wistfully of Kurt Cobain's words: "Nobody dies a virgin... Life f***s us all."
Ok, but fuck me tender.
Definitely not my scent.
But I find your text, flowing and swinging somewhere between Mrs. Dalloway and the pendulum of Katharina, absolutely worth reading. It probably captures the mood of many right now...
It's nice that fragrances can do that, isn't it? Give us a little break... And aren't we all, or most of us, looking for that here... That little escape... Love, Drückerle 🤗
Marshmallow with almond milk flavor fits, so probably not for me. But I still have to read my Baudelaire... no, seriously, good attitude and Kurt was right!
I can relate to this so much. My taste in fragrances has changed drastically over the past few months too. I used to prefer smoky, resinous, animalic scents that were far from "normal." Now, I’m all about cozy, warm, and fluffy sweet and delicious fragrances. Sometimes I could just lick myself! 🙈
Time devours everything, even our old habits and preferences. But my goodness, now I'm worried about you! Hopefully, someone can help with the licking; that's quite a demanding acrobatic feat! :))
Refreshing and delightful to finally catch something outside the often-read "My husband and my dog don't like the perfume" findings. Thank you for that.
I think your comment is incredibly well done and linguistically brilliant. I also like the name of the scent, but I really need to take a detour and Google where the hell to get one of those "F*** You Alley" signs. It would definitely go well with my "a warm welcome would be an exaggeration" doormat.
I only got to know Joop Homme 1-2 years ago; I don't think I ever smelled it before that. And I didn't have a chance to connect with it. Now that you've mentioned the similarity, I want to test it again.
I like your review, especially the ending! I don't think the scent will be for me, but there are days when you just want to smell good, no analysis needed.
Oh yes, those days have been happening more often lately, and I can see how much my fragrance choices have changed. I used to wear Black Afgano for weeks, and now it would completely overwhelm me. Thank you for your kind words!
But I find your text, flowing and swinging somewhere between Mrs. Dalloway and the pendulum of Katharina, absolutely worth reading. It probably captures the mood of many right now...
Sending you lots of love back!
Thanks for stopping by!
My trophy probably isn't helpful, since I throw it like a bridal bouquet. So, take cover!
Thank you!
But my goodness, now I'm worried about you! Hopefully, someone can help with the licking; that's quite a demanding acrobatic feat! :))
Luckily, my dogs don't comment on my fragrances.
And Achilles ordered the shield for me on Amazon :)