Whenever I am home in Boca Raton, Florida I relish the opportunity to immerse myself deep in the recesses of my mother’s walk-in closet. I unearth the deep-seated treasures that may have been forgotten behind the stretches of cardigans and working-woman suits. Ever since I was a little girl I’ve had a wide-eyed captivation of these shelves stacked with high heels of different colors, which elongate my mother’s short frame and the rows of resplendent jewels. Dozens of pearls, brooches and long strands of gold and costume-beaded necklaces filled the shelves, each piece with their own special story and significance attached to them. I would sit in her closet as a young girl, my face cupped in my hands, and marvel at her daily routine of getting ready for work. My favorite piece of the getting-ready process came last as my mother stepped from outside the closet with her perfectly blown out silky red hair and black lined emerald green eyes. I watched as she stepped onto the marble floored bathroom and reached for one of her 3 go-to perfumes: Yves Saint Laurent’s Rive Gauche, Nina Ricci’s L'Air De Temps, or Chanel Number 5 or as I like to call them, the classics. As she gingerly spritzed the fragrance onto her neck and pulse-area of the wrist, I took a deep breath and became entranced by the aromatic scent filling the air. A recent confession to my younger brother caused his face to contort and lips to emit the words “you are so freaking weird” when I divulged that I used to even sniff her pillows when she wasn’t home for that lingering scent redolent of my mother. Admittedly that was weird (I’ve done weirder) but this is the magnitude of power and allure that perfume embodies. I’m not the only one, as Chanel once opined “A women who doesn't wear perfume has no future.” Okay so Coco was a little more extreme, but I catch her drift, perfume is important. So important in fact, that an issue of the Economist once stated that you should never purchase perfume for another as the senses which attract you to certain smells may be biological and what arouses one’s olfactory system may not appeal to another.
At a period when the concept of celebrity and paparazzi flashes permeate the pop-culture arena, is it possible that the recent surge of celebrity fragrances belittle the classics? How many times does a celebrity, cough er, Faith Hill, Jennifer Lopez, Tim McGraw, Paris Hilton, Mariah Carey, Avril Lavigne, Jessica Simpson, Maria Sharapova, the Beckhams, Prince, Hilary Duff, Beyonce, Celine Dion, Christina Aguilera, and even the stylish Sarah Jessica Parker need to generate a new fragrance? It is one thing if these individuals’ life long dreams were to create a fragrance, but I have a hard time picturing a young Tim McGraw in Louisiana begging his mother for a cologne-making kit (oh they really do sell these my friends). Okay fine I understand that you’ve always wanted to create a shoe line Jessica Simpson, and it sells very well so I can’t talk smack, but are the endless kitsch fragrances “created” by these celebrities really necessary? Is Justin Bieber next? Don’t get any ideas Ryan Seacrest. It seems as though celebrities rarely stay inside the lines of their first claim to fame—hence how I keep referring to them as “celebrities” rather than say Beyonce is a singer and Hilary Duff is an actress. With each individual in the limelight comes a taste of success and salivation for more. With the innumerable coats, lip-glosses, and shoes launched by musicians, actors, and tabloid fixtures (rhymes with schmaris milton) where can we draw the line? I for one, am growing weary of the fragrance frenzy.
I didn’t seriously start wearing perfume until my freshman year of college and quickly learned that I loved having my very own signature scent. As I walked down the long carpeted, narrow hallways of my sorority house, girls would tell me that they knew I had been near as they sensed Chanel’s Coco in the air. Although Coco is taking a hiatus in my life for the next few years, I know I will return to it some day. Like my grandmother's gold ring placed on my index finger or the silver engraved bracelet my father gave me for my 13th birthday, perfume can tell a story too. When someone wearing J'adore Dior is near, I will forever be immediately transported to the vibrant streets of Buenos Aires where I wore this scent each day. This scent will always elicit feelings of warmth and a care-free spirit I was able to borrow during my time there. Coco will take me back to my ingénue self in Madison, Wisconsin while my recent mainstay, Chanel’s Chance will remind me of my exciting young years in New York City. Although these scents are near and dear to my heart, the interlocking C’s are not a necessity to one’s perfume history. Maybe the eau de toilettes from the Gap or Bath and Body Works or Gucci Rush or Lancome’s Miracle chronicle the pages of your life’s chapters. What I do know is that these fragrances are more likely to stand out above and beyond the Faith’s, Christina’s, and Mariah’s. But only time can really tell. Perhaps years from now these celebrity-endorsed fragrances will have prevailed. But in the years to come when I’m a lady (I refer to my future career woman self as Lady quite frequently to my friends) getting ready for a long, grueling, but hopefully rewarding work day ahead of me I will stick with one of the aforementioned classics---because I trust that even 8 hours later, my chosen scent will still follow my walk down the long narrow hallway.
YSL's Rive Gauche
Sidenote: Our dear Coco also ascertained that one should only spray perfume in areas where she wants to be kissed
Endnote: Unable to include Britney Spears in this because whew that Curious smells goooood
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