A deliciously fresh flight becomes hazy and sensual when the vanilla and powdery notes of its sweet, sensual base are discovered.

I done lost my mind.

Will doesn’t read my blog so I don’t feel bad about writing this: I just spent exorbitant amounts of money on classic perfumes. I don’t even like one of them. I just wanted them on my vanity.

My goal is to have a bottle of Joy by Jean Patou and not pay for it myself. Joy is the most expensive perfume in the world. Or at least it was, before people got all tacky about things.

But today, I purchased Shalimar, White Shoulders and Tabu. I totally get why Tabu is called Tabu. It smells like…naughtiness. And not particularly in a good way. I really don’t like it. But it’s title deserves a place on my vanity.

White Shoulders, however, makes me think of Ginger’s bedroom in Casino when she first sees it. ALthough that movie takes place in the 70’s, I think White Shoulders must smell like the sixties. It’s what I imagine it smelled like when my Mom watched her Mom get ready for church. Or my Aunt Becky before she went out on a date.

Shalimar…while not exactly my cup of tea has a lovely story involving romance and the taj mahal behind it, so it also deserves a place on my vanity.

Next purchase will be Heaven Sent: It’s what my Mom wore when I was growing up. (She says they changed the formulation, but that was awhile ago. Maybe they went back.)

I’m also planning on asking for Diorissimo for Christmas. Another I won’t purchase for myself.

But where oh where did I buy these fragrances?

Why…CVS! Best kept girl on a budget secret: Check out the perfume cabinet at your local drugstore. Packed with classics and all at a reasonable price. I nearly gave the cashier a heart attack when she rang up the bill, but she’s also used to scanning my bottles of moisturizer and bags of potato chips. This is the first time I laid down some serious cash on something other than makeup.

Some day I shall waltz into Nordstrom’s, merrily (and gingerly) tossing perfume bottles into shopping bags and saying things like “put it on my account, dahlings…” And then the counter girls will say…um who are you and we don’t do “accounts” and then I will drop the bags and flee the store…

I should get back to work. But I had to confess my gluttony…and vanity…and pride…and sloth… but curiously, committing all those sins keeps me nicely away from from wrath, while hopefull inspiring lust and envy in others. (Evil wink of eye.) (Cue “Evil Night Together” by Jill Tracy. Ta ta.


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