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03/24/2020
Pinkdawn
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Pinkdawn
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27
Let the Sunshine in
A dangerous virus is currently forcing us to stay at home if possible. I try to use the time to do long overdue tasks in my apartment. Cabinets and drawers are undergoing a revision. What should stay, what should go? I often come across long forgotten things. Memories are awakened. There is Daisy, Marc Jacobs' successful fragrance, in the 100 ml bottle with the cute plastic daisies, which I still like. It's still amazingly full. I can't resist and I spray the scent on
A green freshness surrounds me, which soon becomes sweeter without losing its freshness. Invigorating pink grapefruit, cooling violet leaves and sweet wild strawberries caress me. Sweet, graceful, cheerful..
Suddenly I feel myself catapulted into the year 2008. Or was it 2007? In any case, it is spring. I met an interesting man on the internet. Sepp. A photography teacher at the college of graphic arts. We understand each other immediately. The photo that his favorite student took of him for me shows an attractive, vulnerable man with a shy smile. Soon he tells me that his wife has recently run away with her fitness trainer and left him and their two teenage daughters in their pretty house with garden on the outskirts of Vienna.
Our contact deepens rapidly. I become addicted to his mails, which are waiting for me daily at breakfast. He is charming, lovable and soon omnipresent in my life. At some point we also start to talk on the phone. His loud voice does not quite match the sensitive guy in the photo, but never mind. I also have a painful separation behind me and long for togetherness. Against my depression I do a psychoanalytic talk therapy. My analyst rolls her eyes. She doesn't understand why Sepp doesn't want to meet with me. He wants to, but he keeps putting it off from one week to the next. "Be careful that this doesn't become another one of your illusionary male relationships," she warns me. Easy for her to say. I don't understand why he avoids a personal meeting with me so persistently. In the meantime, we are already experiencing jealousy conflicts, rifts, conflicts and reconciliations that are ready for film - all virtual, of course.
Summer has long since moved into the country. It's the end of August - and suddenly he wants to meet me. I can hardly believe it. I doubt he'll come until the last moment. Then I see him running in the thunderstorm rain to our meeting place, a café with a guest garden, his blue Armani T-shirt pulled over his head as rain protection.
I admit I like the man in the photo better. The favourite student had lived up to his status and had done a good job, very good job. Am I disappointed? I don't want to think about that now. I concentrate on what I like about him: his mischievous, infectious laugh, his natural, unbiased manner.
It doesn't take long and we start cuddling. Then he leaves suddenly, under a pretext. Almost in panic, it seems to me. I'm confused. Then there is radio silence. I don't know what to think. After days of waiting in vain for a sign of life, I finally write to him briefly: "I hope I didn't frighten him too much ... something like that. Again it takes a few days, then he answers. He has realised that he is not ready for a new relationship for a long time yet, but he is always there for me when I need something.
"What do we learn from this," asks my analyst and immediately answers herself that one should not take so long with a personal meeting. I know, but I didn't have the strength to put him before the alternative: Look, either we meet in the next two weeks or we leave the whole thing alone
What all this has to do with Daisy? A lot of things, actually. Sepp was pretty quick to find a pet name for me: Daisy. How he came up with it, I don't know. Of course I was sensitized to that name accordingly. When I discovered Marc Jacobs' new perfume soon after in a perfumery - it was highly visible anyway thanks to its original bottle - I simply had to test it. I was thrilled by its floral freshness and had to have it immediately.
I loved wearing it for several months, all summer long. When the story ended with Sepp, I lost interest in the fragrance. I didn't want to be reminded of him by anything. Daisy wandered out of my sight into a closet
Over ten years later I no longer have any emotional problems with Daisy. I can approach the fragrance with an open mind.
I sniff the back of my hand. Daisy has become much more flowery now. Violets, gardenia and jasmine dance across the sunny spring meadow. I can't really tell the difference between gardenia and jasmine. It is a bright, friendly scent, cheerful, carefree, graceful and lovely. Of course, those who say it is not sophisticatet and complex enough are right, accusing it of triviality and lack of originality. But must everything always be complicated and an intellectual challenge?
Daisy is a summer scent - light, sunny, playful and a little romantic, right up to the end when the flowers and strawberries combine with musk and vanilla to create a gourmand-creamy happy end. Daisy does not want to be complicated or capricious. She is what she is, a delicate fragrance of sparkling grapefruit, lots of white flowers, fruity strawberries, not too sweet musk and fresh green. There must be room for this too in the realm of fragrances. And sometimes one - me - feels like it.
Sure, there are many similar flower scents. But Daisy still stands out from the crowd. The quality is unmistakable, the composition is successful and the individual fragrances harmonize wonderfully. Only the durability could be better. But it is a summery eau de toilette that doesn't want to be too heavy.
I don't see in Daisy a fragrance that - because it is flowery and fresh - only suits young, carefree girls. In general, I think that one should slowly but surely free oneself from such pigeonholing. Daisy's unbroken popularity and almost countless flankers seem to confirm this.
A green freshness surrounds me, which soon becomes sweeter without losing its freshness. Invigorating pink grapefruit, cooling violet leaves and sweet wild strawberries caress me. Sweet, graceful, cheerful..
Suddenly I feel myself catapulted into the year 2008. Or was it 2007? In any case, it is spring. I met an interesting man on the internet. Sepp. A photography teacher at the college of graphic arts. We understand each other immediately. The photo that his favorite student took of him for me shows an attractive, vulnerable man with a shy smile. Soon he tells me that his wife has recently run away with her fitness trainer and left him and their two teenage daughters in their pretty house with garden on the outskirts of Vienna.
Our contact deepens rapidly. I become addicted to his mails, which are waiting for me daily at breakfast. He is charming, lovable and soon omnipresent in my life. At some point we also start to talk on the phone. His loud voice does not quite match the sensitive guy in the photo, but never mind. I also have a painful separation behind me and long for togetherness. Against my depression I do a psychoanalytic talk therapy. My analyst rolls her eyes. She doesn't understand why Sepp doesn't want to meet with me. He wants to, but he keeps putting it off from one week to the next. "Be careful that this doesn't become another one of your illusionary male relationships," she warns me. Easy for her to say. I don't understand why he avoids a personal meeting with me so persistently. In the meantime, we are already experiencing jealousy conflicts, rifts, conflicts and reconciliations that are ready for film - all virtual, of course.
Summer has long since moved into the country. It's the end of August - and suddenly he wants to meet me. I can hardly believe it. I doubt he'll come until the last moment. Then I see him running in the thunderstorm rain to our meeting place, a café with a guest garden, his blue Armani T-shirt pulled over his head as rain protection.
I admit I like the man in the photo better. The favourite student had lived up to his status and had done a good job, very good job. Am I disappointed? I don't want to think about that now. I concentrate on what I like about him: his mischievous, infectious laugh, his natural, unbiased manner.
It doesn't take long and we start cuddling. Then he leaves suddenly, under a pretext. Almost in panic, it seems to me. I'm confused. Then there is radio silence. I don't know what to think. After days of waiting in vain for a sign of life, I finally write to him briefly: "I hope I didn't frighten him too much ... something like that. Again it takes a few days, then he answers. He has realised that he is not ready for a new relationship for a long time yet, but he is always there for me when I need something.
"What do we learn from this," asks my analyst and immediately answers herself that one should not take so long with a personal meeting. I know, but I didn't have the strength to put him before the alternative: Look, either we meet in the next two weeks or we leave the whole thing alone
What all this has to do with Daisy? A lot of things, actually. Sepp was pretty quick to find a pet name for me: Daisy. How he came up with it, I don't know. Of course I was sensitized to that name accordingly. When I discovered Marc Jacobs' new perfume soon after in a perfumery - it was highly visible anyway thanks to its original bottle - I simply had to test it. I was thrilled by its floral freshness and had to have it immediately.
I loved wearing it for several months, all summer long. When the story ended with Sepp, I lost interest in the fragrance. I didn't want to be reminded of him by anything. Daisy wandered out of my sight into a closet
Over ten years later I no longer have any emotional problems with Daisy. I can approach the fragrance with an open mind.
I sniff the back of my hand. Daisy has become much more flowery now. Violets, gardenia and jasmine dance across the sunny spring meadow. I can't really tell the difference between gardenia and jasmine. It is a bright, friendly scent, cheerful, carefree, graceful and lovely. Of course, those who say it is not sophisticatet and complex enough are right, accusing it of triviality and lack of originality. But must everything always be complicated and an intellectual challenge?
Daisy is a summer scent - light, sunny, playful and a little romantic, right up to the end when the flowers and strawberries combine with musk and vanilla to create a gourmand-creamy happy end. Daisy does not want to be complicated or capricious. She is what she is, a delicate fragrance of sparkling grapefruit, lots of white flowers, fruity strawberries, not too sweet musk and fresh green. There must be room for this too in the realm of fragrances. And sometimes one - me - feels like it.
Sure, there are many similar flower scents. But Daisy still stands out from the crowd. The quality is unmistakable, the composition is successful and the individual fragrances harmonize wonderfully. Only the durability could be better. But it is a summery eau de toilette that doesn't want to be too heavy.
I don't see in Daisy a fragrance that - because it is flowery and fresh - only suits young, carefree girls. In general, I think that one should slowly but surely free oneself from such pigeonholing. Daisy's unbroken popularity and almost countless flankers seem to confirm this.
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DorothyGrace
