Friday, February 27, 2009

I Have a Dream


I have an awesome dream: French cuffs.

{DC Comics}

For women.

{212 Metalworks via}

For me.

[SUMMARY: In the end, it's all about me.]


Wildly fashionable§ and widely available.

{Tracey Mayer}

I've always trod a fine line between resenting and envying that most men in my corporate sphere can look crisp and businesslike on a wardrobe of a half-dozen ties,# four or five pairs of nice slacks and a half-dozen clean-tailored†† shirts.‡‡

And one pair of shoes, if they're careful of their colours.§§

[SUMMARY: It would seem I don't have enough to worry about.]

{Apparently discontinued from Thompson London, but available at }

I would SO wear a crisp, starched¶¶ shirt every day if I could wear cufflinks.##


Rose 31 - Le Labo (edp)

Marin says: There's barely a bud of a rose at first blush, what with all the incense floating around.

Second blush is wood and cinnamon and clove with a hint of something dirty@ -- like cumin? Or like an indole? It's not enough to do more than hint at the unwashed, but just enough to keep the cinnamon and clove thing from being too hot apple cider.†††

Hours later, it settled into my skin like a good musk will, with a breath of rose left. Throughout its lifespan, it was never strident -- I could never smell it unless I laid nose to wrist. But it was always there.

I'm really impressed with the musk, since musk is often soapy and usually shows up right at the end in an otherwise lovely perfume, putting a Tide-scented damper on delicious-smelling day. But this is a warm skin smell I've read about from perfume enthusiasts with more depth than mine and I'm glad to make its acquaintance.

Le Labo says: Roses for men! The perfume's aim is clear; to transform the famous Grasse Rose, a symbol of voluptuousness and unualified femininity in perfume, into an assertively virile fragrance for men...

The result is a model of its kind: alternating feminine/masculine with the disturbing ambiguity of the Centrifolia roe, quickly picked up by a chorus of warm, spicy and woodsy notes such as cumin, olbanum, cedar and a touch of amber...

In the background, the declaried sensuality of Gaiac wod and cistus highlighted by a distinctly physicla animal note, give this perfume a disconcerting sense of mystery.

NOTES: Rose absolute,$ rose essence,$ cumin,$ olibanum,$ cedar wood, cistus, gaiac wood, musk,$ oud wood, vetiver.‡‡‡

Hans says: Hans is in Manhattan Beach, California this morning. Since he's surfing and heckling Chelsea Handler§§§ while I'm keeping the industry afloat, he doesn't get a say in this one.

FOOTNOTE (crossed): It's been a LONG time since I thanked the Holy Fucking Cats for Friday. I'm torn: is it idolatry or having other gods, therefore a cardinal sin (or two), to give thanks to the Cats? But then, things have spiraled downward since the last time I thanked the Cats, so I worry that I've angered them and will experience continous black cat-worthy bad luck if I don't.

And you thought being a saint-in-training was easy.

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I had a French cuff shirt once. Accidentally. It came complete with buttons connected by a stem that approximated cuff links. Not the same thing.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Pearly pink pig balls, anyone?

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): And I can live without fashionable.

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I'm talking Old Navy available. Target available. First person who tells me I can probably Google "french cuffs women" and find an Argentinian tailor to make me some is banned for life.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): And don't tell me about the evils of neckties. I've worn neckties. When I worked for a backward company that insisted women wear skirts and pantyhose and no open-toed shoes ever, but men could wear jeans on Friday provided they wear a necktie, I wore a necktie so I could wear jeans too. Like a protest. Neckties just aren't that bad.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Why do you suppose it's "colour" and "humour," but not "tailour"?

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): And their drycleaning costs way less too! They could probably get away with even less items of clothing.

§§FOOTNOTE (when I shake my head, that's what my hair does): "Rich, you are NOT leaving the house dressed like that."

"Why not? What's wrong?"

"Because people know we're dating and I feel the yellow shirt, brown- and blue- striped tie, charcoal slacks, brown belt, black shoes and navy socks will reflect poorly on me."

True story.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (standing straight): Oh, how I love the smell and feel of a starched shirt. I just need an excuse, people. Come on. The economy is dire -- catering to the consumer with impulse issues wouldn't be your worst plan of attack.

##FOOTNOTE (ooooh... pound signs could make cool cuff links): It could be my signature look. Like a tuxedo on Diane Keating or sequins on Cher.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): I do appreciate a hint of something dirty.

†††FOOTNOTE (cocktail picks!): Nothing wrong with hot apple cider, mind you, but it's not a particularly *sophisticated* scent. And y'all know I'm nothing if not sophisticated. Just look at my taste in cuff links.

$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): Yes, I'm giving myself credit for rose. Call me mistress of the obvious. Then again, I'm kinda sad I didn't find any cedar, since it's one of my absolute favourites... and vetiver, since I feel like I've had a very thorough education in vetiver now and can confidently pick it out of a crowd. I shoulda knocked wood before I even THOUGHT that.

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (parade route): It's like a parade of scents I don't really know. Like they said, "Hmmm... rose, cumin... and a bunch of shit Marin couldn't pick out of a lineup if her life depended on it." Oh, hey -- it really *is* all about me.

§§§FOOTNOTE (a wicked twiddling of my handlebar moustache): Hans has a sordid past that includes having a very short degrees-of-separation from Chelsea Handler. Some day I'll tell you the story.

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