Scent of a Woman

I confess, I love perfume. I do. Aside from the historical viewpoint, I love the romance of it. I love the bottles, and the labels, and the names, and the stories attached to their journey from nature to bottle. I own quite a few bottles, too. Perfume doesn’t have to be expensive to be nice and appreciated. I remember waaaaaaaaaaaaay back in high school, a friend gave me a tiny bottle of Babe™ eau de toilette for Christmas, and I loved it. And who can forget Love’s Baby Soft™?? I still have some of that. Not that it’s appreciated around here:

Hubby: What are you wearing??

Me: Uh, pajamas…

Hubby: No, I mean what perfume??

Me: Oh! “Love’s Baby Soft”, why? Don’t you like it?

Hubby: Any chance you can shower again, and throw away the bottle?

Me: Hater…

Not all perfumes are divine scents, though. My mom gifted me a bottle of some high-priced designer stuff that reeked like a dead skunk that had baked in the sun for days. It was so bad, I threw it out, and I never throw out perfume. That’s just wrong. But that was just awful. And I don’t care what people say about “personal chemistry”. You wear what smells nice to you. My sister prefers floral scents, and I prefer orientals and woodsy scents. Basically, that means she never borrows any of mine, and vice versa. Not that she would. My signature scent is Shalimar™, and that just reminds her of our grandmother.

Remember: the gift of scent is a personal one, so make sure YOU can live with it, as well. It is no secret what Hubby likes, from the myriad Shalimar™ and Samsara™ bottles I own 😉