The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

If I had to try and explain the origins of my love of products, it would probably start with my grandmother. When I was a little girl, I loved to sit in her bathroom and watch her as she “put on her face.” No make up was involved – the most I ever saw her wear was lipstick, but she ritually cleansed, toned and moisturized. It paid off. She looked years younger than she was. My grandmother was also a collector of perfumes. Her vanity shelves were graced with beautiful bottles of a variety of fragrances – L’aire du Temps, Chanel No. 5, Opium, White Linen, White Diamonds, and in later years Glow, Pleasures, Kenneth Cole Black and many others. She had a perfume for every occasion, for every mood. My mother (her daughter), on the other hand, has worn Oscar by Oscar de La Renta, and only Oscar, for as long as I can remember. In this regard at least, I’ve always thought I took after my mother – that I was someone with a signature fragrance, a distinct perfume that would become synonymous with me. The problem is, after some 15 years of wearing perfume, I’m still looking for that signature fragrance. I’ve realized that when it comes to perfume, I’m actually a serial monogamist. I fall madly in love with a fragrance and remain firmly committed for an extended period, until suddenly. . .I'm not.

Past relationships include: Malibu Mist, some drug store dreck I
wore at age 12. When I was 13 I somehow got my hands on a bottle of Elizabeth Arden Red Door. At 14 I switched to something that was very rose scented – also a drug store find, but I recall really loving it in the face of the Elizabeth Arden Sunflowers craze, despite the fact that I can no longer remember its name. I had a brief infatuation with a Jessica McClintock scent, and then when I was 16, it was on to Pleasures - a birthday present from my grandmother. I stuck with Pleasures for several years, and then in college I became enraptured with Ralph Lauren Romance, the fragrance du jour, which I wore for several years. In my mid-twenties I decided it was too common and fell in love with Sarah Jessica Parker's debut perfume: Lovely. And lovely it was. Everyone who smelled it on me ran out and bought it, and I once again jumped ship because my perfume was too common. That time, I ran to Fresh Pink Jasmine, which is not found on many wrists. A bottle has lasted me three years, because at the end of the day it's just not me. Last summer I spent several hours at a Nordstrom perfume calendar while a very handsome European salesman spritzed my wrists with various fragrances in the white flower category - apparently this is where my tastes run - and left with a bottle of J'adore by Christian Dior. But yet again, it still wasn't me and so I continue to look while alternately wearing the J'adore, Pink Jasmine and Pleasures. I've had brief flirtations with FlowerByKenzo and Narcisso Rodriquez but am unable to commit. I know that my signature fragrance is out there. . .I just have to find it. And if I hang out by enough perfume counters, I’m sure I will.