The First Bottle

Hello Fellow Perfume Aficionados,

Way back when, I used to choose the bottles of scent I purchased with a somewhat wanton attitude: if I wanted it, I bought it. Now, I find myself contemplating my purchases, mainly because I realize that it's not quantity that matters, it's quality. A well-edited selection of scents is the path I'm choosing to take; we'll see how many I actually wind up with.

The first bottle is Diptyque L'Ombre dans L'Eau, which means, "Shadow in the Water." I find it somewhat ironic that I've chosen a scent with the word "shadow" in it, since I'm trying very hard to emerge from quite a large shadow of despair.

I've always admired the Diptyque line, especially the candles. My home smelled like Essence of John Galliano (pre-anti-semitic rant), Figuier, and Baies on occasion, but I never chose to wear any of the eaux de toilettes until now. 

L'Ombre dans L'Eau is comprised of black currant leaves, rose and a smidge of musk. It is an intense green scent, which is reflective of my new locale: year-round green amid almost constant cool and damp. The leaves retain the juiciness of the fruit, and compliment the rose note perfectly. I've never been one to wear a heavy rose fragrance; the rose note has to be balanced by something equally as assertive for it to appeal to me. Plus, since I am now in a more moderate climate, I am gravitating towards scents that are not quite as heavy as ones I wore in the past. The dark, spicy, incense-y "bear hug" scents I used to love in much colder climes would now overwhelm me.

Despite the green-ness of L'Ombre dans L'Eau, there is a comfort and familiarity to it. Some green scents can be excessively zesty, but this one has a warmth you won't find in others. Maybe that's why I am so drawn to it; cheerful greens and warmth. What more could a melancholy nose ask for?

With love, and fragrant wishes,

Nava

Now

Hello Fellow Perfume Aficionados,

If you're wondering what this blog is about, please scroll down and read the two previous entries. After you've read them, come back and read this one.

Now that I've explained what lead to the creation of Collection Redux, it's time for me to give you my mission statement:

You are invited to accompany me on a fragrant journey of rebirth. Before losing my vast collection of fragrances, I was always on the prowl for the next great scent; I attended fragrance events; cased department, and other stores for things that tickled my nose; I traveled to places near and far, and always managed to ferret out interesting things to smell; I bought full bottles - not decants or samples - full bottles; I never spoke about my fragrant adventures to anyone in my "real" life; I talked about the things I smelled with people on the Internet, and wrote about them on a well-known fragrance blog. Then, I lost everything: my marriage, my home, my life as I knew it. Those bottles I wrote about earlier, somewhere between 100 and 150, had a retail value of over $18,000. I know this because the woman (I can no longer refer to her as "my aunt" without goose bumps the size of baseballs forming on my body) who gave them away for a tax credit had her secretary research each and every bottle online to determine their worth. My collection consisted of bottles from Bond No. 9, Tom Ford, L'Artisan Parfumeur, and other names we are all familiar with. There were precious vials of oils, and niche fragrances that were available only at one or two very specific locations. Then, there was my collection of 30 Serge Lutens fragrances, some hand-carried back from Paris by me, and others obtained through back-channels and other places. Those bottles were my prized possessions.

It has taken me a long time to get over this loss; some might compare it to the destruction of a great wine cellar, or a financial loss akin to that of being ripped off by the likes of a Ponzi schemer. Granted, $18,000 is not a lot of money in the big picture, but it was never about the monetary value of the bottles; it was about what they meant to me. Before that woman put a dollar amount on them, I never once thought about how much I'd spent or what their resale value might be. I've realized, someone who appreciates perfume cannot be a black-and-white thinker. A person who appreciates the art of fragrance must be able to think in the abstract, and realize that not everything in life is comprised of only two colors. Life is made up of many beautiful colors, scents, and visual magnificence. If you happen to be someone who can't literally stop and smell the roses, then you're missing out on one of life's greater pleasures. That is what this woman is like. For her, it was all about striking back for perceived harms she believed I caused her. She knew how much those bottles meant to me; the act of taking them from me was, in her mind, a triumph.

It has taken me a long time to get over losing my collection. At first, I was in some serious denial. I told myself over, and over that my fragrances were just material possessions. Then, I finally gave in and allowed myself to mourn their loss. That might seem superficial to some people, but for those of us who understand what I'm talking about, you know my grieving process was long, and I am finally now emerging on the other side of it.

So, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to visit this page periodically, to join me on my journey. I will be writing about the bottles I have recently acquired, the bottles I want to acquire (I will make every attempt to include some samples and decants this time around), and the bottles I used to own. The catharsis I thought I previously achieved was a false one; now it is time for the real thing. I'm hoping to have some wonderful company along the way.

With love, and fragrant wishes,

Nava

And Then...

This post, originally titled, $7,319.68, was published on October 13, 2011, also on Perfume Posse.

The number above – that’s the tax deduction 30 Serges (Exports and Exclusives), plus about 100 more miscellaneous fragrances, and other items, will get you if you donate them to charity.

How do I know this? I found out about 2 weeks ago, finally, what my "wonderful" aunt (see my previous post) did with my perfume collection and some other items I was forbidden to retrieve from her house.

Now, I guess you can say I have “closure” of the situation since she threw me out over a year ago.

I’m usually not one to air dirty laundry, but since I’ve been through so much over the past few years, I thought, what the hell. I’ve lost everything so I literally have nothing left to lose.

The problem is, finding out that my treasured collection is gone forever has put me off fragrance. This is worse than going off meds or having a run of bad luck. Right now, I just don’t care what I smell like or what anything smells like. I even pitched what  few bottles that did manage to make it out of her house; I just couldn’t stand looking at them anymore.

So, for now, I bid you all adieu. I have no desire to smell anything and I don’t know when I will again. I know my attitude sounds defeatist and it’s allowing evil to triumph over good, but I am too exhausted, emotionally and physically, to keep fighting. The only thing I can hope for is that my aunt will receive some sort of karmic retribution for all the crap she’s pulled on me over the past couple of years. You know the saying: what goes around, comes around. Let’s all keep our fingers crossed, shall we?

I hope to see you all again before too long.

The Facts, In a Nutshell

The following words were first published on November 4, 2010, in a post titled In Memoriam, on the perfume review blog, Perfume Posse.

Three years ago, my life as I knew it changed forever. The details of this transformation don’t matter, but in coping with all the upheaval, I decided, who better to help get me through it than family? Turns out, this was the worst decision I could have made.

Those of you with close, reliable family ties might be thinking: how could family possibly turn their backs on one of its members? The answer to that question is: quite easily. This isn’t an essay written in anger, and as I said, the details don’t matter. What matters are the lessons we learn from our experiences. The lesson I’ve learned is this: no matter how awful things get, the only person you can rely upon when the going gets tough is yourself. Nothing and no one else matters more.

I’ve lost my entire perfume collection; all my Serges; everything. As far as I know, the bottles themselves are still alive and well, I am just being denied access to them. Unfortunately, they will be elsewhere in a few weeks time, and there isn’t anything I can do about that. Many of you know I’ve been living with my aunt and uncle in Toronto for the past year, and sadly, my relationship with my aunt took a turn so sharp that not only am I no longer living in her home, I am not allowed, by her mandate, to access any of my belongings except through third parties. I’ve joked in the past about my aunt’s intolerance to my fragrant endeavours, and always did so cheekily, and without rancour. But, our conflict now goes much deeper, and, I fear, there won’t be any reconciliation in the near future.

The casualties of this particular war are my material possessions. In making my move from the D.C. area in August 2009, I jettisoned most of my belongings. What’s left, I’ve realized, doesn’t mean all that much to me, including my bottles of fragrance. I’m not saying I will not continue to love fragrance; I always will, and I will continue to write here at the Posse indefinitely (or for as long as they’ll have me). Going through as much as I have for as long as I have, has made me realize it is impossible to hang on to everything. I’ve thought about the prolific disasters of the recent past: September 11, hurricane Katrina, the Thailand tsunami, the earthquakes in India, China, and Haiti; not to mention others. Those who were lucky enough to survive found the will to carry on, despite losing all their worldly possessions. Thankfully, my situation isn’t anywhere near as tragic as those; but I have a grasp of what matters. The rest is just extraneous; including my perfumes. It might take me a while to get back to the Salons in Paris, but no one will ever be able to take away my memories of being there. The scents will live on in the same manner.

I’ve chosen to share this with all of you because writing it down is part of the journey. My ability to do so is something no one will ever deprive me of. That is the most empowering feeling I can ever know. Dissemination of information may not always accomplish what you want it to, but in this instance, the forum of fragrance goes much deeper than the actual scents. We revel in our knowledge and find solace in our common interests. Loving and losing is part of life. The loss may be a precious, irreplaceable vintage bottle of something, or it could be everything. In my case, the loss is all encompassing; but only metaphorically. The tangible items may be gone, but there is the hope of a brighter future, and even more scents to sniff and enjoy.

Onward and upward…