Memoire d’une Odeur

I love the effort that Gucci put into this mini bottle–the same aqua cut crystal detail as the full. Orange button-flower courtesy of my neighbor’s yard.

My memory of this scent is that strange herbal tea my mother used to give me before bedtime.
Our well water came from the depths of Hell–so heavy with sulfur minerals you could practically chew it–so she sweetened everything with gobs of honey to make it palatable.

Definitely evocative, with a pleasant oddness I expect from Imaginary Authors or ELd’O rather than Gucci.

Earthy chamomile and jasmine on top, highbrow hippy on the bottom.


rush edge

Light and lovely and ridiculously fresh, but with an odd plastic-left-in-the-sun note. Peaches in cellophane and patchouli and warm spice, with a hit of wax rose petals and white flowers, ending on a very comforting vetiver.
Projects like a summer garden with vinyl flags and lasts twice as long on clothes than skin.

Pity about the cheap cassette tape bottle, though. That’s just a travesty.

This was the biggest pop song in Italy in 1999.


Tall, square, matte-black bottle of Envy Eau de Parfum nestled in the heart of a bunch of celery stalks.

In a happy mood, Envy shimmers with lime and hyacinth and spring pine, but when it’s angry it sulks with celery and wilting roses and verdigris tarnish.
Amazing in the rain.

This was my “divorce perfume,” twenty years ago, my splurge at the duty-free shop when I’d run off to cry on a few shoulders, along with the new haircut and leather jacket.

This song, like Envy, came out in 1997–I saw it in concert.