Varon Dandi

Varon Dandy

Parera 1924 Eau de Cologne

Dear and revered sir,
With your signature scent in my nose and understanding your life wisdom, I would like to write these humble lines not as a conventional obituary, but rather as a heartfelt thank you for the refreshing transmission of your life philosophy. For you have managed to ensure that your thoughts and experiences can continue to live on.

My encounter with you shortly before your retirement, and me as a pubescent student, enriched my knowledge in a fascinating way about the narrative lived experiences of several decades of the 20th century.

You embodied the noble Caballero, always dressed in a three-piece suit and Panama hat.
How you would thoughtfully and dignifiedly step out of your timeless 1960s Mercedes Benz in the teacher's parking lot and adjust the indispensable fresh flower on your lapel.
What is a day without flowers, you used to say.

An amber-powdery and woody scent always announced your presence.

Back then, my clique pressured me to ask you about your fragrance preference, as my friends in the 1980s regarded this men's powder with unusual scrutiny.

Elaborately complicated and pathetically clumsy was my indiscreet question.
Your composed and sovereign answer could not have been better.

“Mire usted,
(Your standardized sentence starter of “look”)
it surprises me that your esteemed grandfather has withheld this Spanish treasure of every Caballero from your valued father. But I assume that German gentlemen have their corresponding essence.
Varón Dandy is, after all, a basic requirement from Mexico down to Argentina.”

Afterwards…

“¿A dónde vas Alfonso XIII?”
(Where are you going, Alfonso XIII?)
Your classic, wistful yet witty sigh while correcting, despairing, and kindly admonishing.

You witnessed the end of the Spanish monarchy, a fragile Second Republic, and were forced to turn your back on the subsequent dictatorship.
In exile, you effortlessly continued the dandyish Madrid of your youth, as Mexico City offered you a refreshing balance. There, you were a respected institution.

Your students always alternately rang in the start of the lesson by reciting a memorized poem.

“Antiquated?
Miren ustedes, how are you supposed to become well-bred Señoritos?
Do you want to tell your beloved the mundane events of the day in a prosaic manner?
You poor creatures, the modern Rumberas of today (suppressing laughter) are indeed soulless compared to those profane ‘despiadadas’ (merciless) of yesteryear.”
(Referring to lascivious figures like Ninón Sevilla or Abbe Lane of the 1940s/1950s.)

“¿A dónde vas Alfonso XIII?”

Whether I became the hoped-for Señorito of that time, I can only attempt to do so through a humble ode to your Varón Dandy.

Hiss!

Señor mío,
la elegancia no la frena
ni el sol ni el frío.

I can already sense the rolling of your eyes and the quoting of poor Alfonso XIII.

This unrestrained elegance of a very controversial Chypre flirts quite deliberately at the opening.
Amidst gentle bergamot and white flowers, a civet kitten purrs.
Unusually floral and intricately citrusy for a leathery scent.
Labdanum and patchouli with good manners!

Joan Parera i Casanovas, the creator and manufacturer in Badalona at the time, understood Parisian perfumery art to perfection.
The flagship, this very Varón Dandy, of his fragrance and cosmetics company was supposedly created as early as 1912 at its founding and inevitably bears the marks of the great rival across the Pyrenees, Guerlain.
Only the company archives in the hands of Benckiser or Margaret Astor, the current owner of Parera, can report on the actual year of creation.

In any case, the fragrance captures an incredibly refined and warm aura.

Following this, a symphony of the finest garden clove, iris, lavender, and rose on woody leather, the golden resins create the foundation of the noble dandy of past eras.
It is precisely this rather masculine leather that distinguishes the fragrance from its female counterparts.
Where would we be otherwise, Alfonso XIII?
“¡Señorito, por favor!”

Querido profesor, I now understand your slightly suppressed homesickness when you recited the hymn to Madrid by Agustín Lara.
He wanted to sing to his beloved, lining the Gran Vía with carnations.

The heart of the supportive Caballero is warmly ambered with a hint of cinnamon and sandalwood.

In the past, the base had more nurturing oak moss.
The years have been somewhat merciless here, like one of those Rumberas.

How wonderfully you could get worked up over the ambiguous lyrics of those dancers!

“Me lo dijo Adela” by Abbe Lane I leave to the reader for free interpretation.

The spirit of the times thankfully changes views and understanding, which you always added to your wonderful comments from back then in a relativizing manner. Thus, you sharpened our thoughts on the relationship between the new and the worth preserving.
Fair play was your strength.

Several years later, I strolled along the Gran Vía in Madrid, and something tightened my throat.
Unfortunately, there were no fragrant carnations on the sidewalk or the roadway as in the song.
In the nearby Galerías Preciados, now gone and swallowed by El Corte Inglés, I asked about the Varón.
Somewhat surprised and pityingly, they referred me to the disreputable corner of yesterday's fragrances.
The beautiful bottle was no more, but there was the oversized jumbo bottle for entire football teams.
Thus, I could conjure a glorified stretch of splendor entirely to your taste.

And following your attitude towards the spirit of the times, I would like to tell you that Varón Dandy is perfectly usable in the 2020s and ready to write new stories and poems.
Perhaps without a three-piece suit and Panama hat, but with the sincere heart of a long-grown Señorito.

Profe, gracias por sus esfuerzos, paciencia y méritos.

¡De Madrid al cielo!