Scent of a Woman

Unless you're the kind of guy who drinks "Flirtinis," wears thong underpants, or occasionally wears a little rouge "just for color," you can move on now. Really. There's nothing for you here. 

I finally bought myself this extravagant present. Outside of consumables (foie gras, champagne, cheesey goo, etc.) I generally don't spend much money, mostly because I don't have any. Also, I was born without that female shopping gene. I'd much rather drink margaritas at the crappy mall bar, then buy whatever dress looks like it would fit me in the window of some cheap store. But lately, I've been trying to class it up a tiny bit. I'm a grown ass woman, after all, and ill- fitting jeans with an attitude T don't really cut it anymore. And when I'm trying to get all glammed up, I've noticed that I feel naked without a fragrance. 

Most of my adult life, I've decided that natural scents are best, at least for me. However, I love how some people (usually it's a woman) have a signature scent. My grandmother and her friends knew about this. It seems feminine, classic, glamorous. My grandmother wore Chantilly, a fairly cheap brand you could buy at most drug stores, but on more special occasions she wore Chanel #5. Both of these are clean, classic, rather innocent. (My grandmother was a lot of things, but certainly not innocent.)  A friend of my grandmother's that's still living wears the same fragrance she did thirty years ago. Whenever I bump into her at a wedding or a funeral and she comes in for a hug and my nose brushes her cheek, I'm five years old again. A scent is a very powerful thing, unlocking long sealed doors in the brain. 

I wanted a signature scent. In my younger days, I loved vanilla. I walked around smelling like a chocolate chip cookie. I still like it. But I wanted something more sophisticated this time around. Marlene Dietrich wore this fragrance, as did a smattering of other screen sirens of the '40's and '50's. This was very expensive. At least for me. But I feel like I'm shrouded in my own personal veil of gardenia and mystery, and it makes me feel amazing. And so for that I think it's worth it. 

I wish I could say this story is a coincidence, but I really have no idea how that could be: 

Yesterday was the first day I wore my perfume, and I had recently applied it before heading to Target. On my way out of the store, I felt someone brush up against me. I turned around to find a cart corral guy (the ones with the yellow vests who collect the carts?) standing less than an inch from me. He was smelling my neck. When I looked at him like he had lost his fool mind, he just said, "I'm sorry," and then he walked away. I swear on the baby Jesbus, Allah, all the characters in Lord of the Rings including Frodo and Vishnu that this happened. He was close enough to kiss me. WTF? Is this even possible? And yes, it was creepy. 

What would Marlene Dietrich have done?