Wednesday, Apr. 7: Yet another 90-degree day, which is freakishly hot for April around here. SOTD: again, Crown Bouquet. I look around and see that all the flowering trees that were bare last week have already bloomed – and the blooms are already fading! That was fast. I’m guessing our wacky weather had a hand in that: it was cold, it was cold, it was cold, it was cold, and then suddenly it was HOT, and we never got the gradual warming that we usually do.
Thursday, Apr. 8: 70 degrees and rain; this is April weather I’m accustomed to. SOTM: sampling Chanel Bel Respiro. I find it pretty and comfortable, for the short time that it lasts. SOTE: Le Temps d’une Fete, which is a Can’t Miss Scent for me – it always just makes me happy.
For dinner: Zuppe di Pasta e’ Fagioli, which is my made-up version of chicken noodle soup with tomatoes, garlic, Italian herbs, and white beans. Probably totally inauthentic Italian (as far as I can tell, real Italians don’t put chunks of chicken in their pasta e’ fagioli, or a lot of broth), but yummy stuff anyway. I like the small pasta shells in it, but ditalini or those whatchamacallems, the little ruffly ones, work well too. Not, you know, noodles as in your average chicken noodle: I mean pasta, bite-size but substantial, with some heft to go along with the basically rustic-peasant feel of the rest of the ingredients.
Friday, Apr. 9: Mid-60’s today, with clouds. SOTD: Chanel No. 19 in vtg edt. Somehow No. 19, for all its Invisible Armor qualities, manages to be comfortable and attractive as well as protective. I don’t know how, but it works. In the afternoon, my small decant of Guerlain Vega arrived (yay, aldehydes!). Not sure what I think about the experience in toto yet; need to retest. It’s something like Guerlain-does-No.5, with Guerlain vanilla and sandalwood instead of that elegant Chanel iris-sandalwood-musk, but something about the drydown was not pleasant. However, I still had the dregs of No. 19* on my inner forearms, with Vega on the outside of my wrist, so perhaps it’s that Guerlain and Chanel weren’t playing nicely together.
*Man, that stuff lasts… I could still smell it 12 hours after a one-spritz application. That’s one more reason why the vintage is worth seeking out – the modern edt only lasts maybe 2-3 hours, on me anyway.
Saturday, Apr. 10: Relatively chilly today, compared to earlier in the week: in the 50’s. No scent today – I cleaned the house and then did something to my hair, so by the time I had my shower I didn’t really want anything on. Don’t worry, I’m not sick or anything…
Sunday, Apr. 11: Back to the customary April temps, at 75 F, nice weather for the spring concert for my community chorus. I’m supposed to stay unscented for these things, but I forgot and put on Diorissimo for church. According to an informal poll of other sopranos, though, no one was bothered by it. The woman who stands next to me was wearing Dune, and she smelled great. I’ve never worn Dune, because my (territorial) sister wore it for several years before moving on to Coco Mlle., which as I’ve mentioned before, really smells gorgeous on her.
Monday, Apr. 12: Another day in the low 70’s. My coworker made toast this morning, and I’ve been smelling that all day. Toast smells gooood. I was rushed, and I have another concert tonight (same program, different venue), so I grabbed the Mariella Burani.
Tuesday, Apr. 13: I’m way behind on my sampling, and people are so kind to send me more things in swaps that I’ve begun to have nightmares about opening a closet door and getting buried in sample vials… Eek. I must get back to sampling again.
But had no chance to sample today. This evening, my sister and I took our mother to a performance of Riverdance, as her birthday gift. It got me to thinking about family origins. We’re largely of Irish descent, with dollops of English, Scottish, German, Welsh, and the occasional Cherokee thrown in: what I like to, in semi-jest, call Standard Colonial Mix. The CEO and I have been having an ongoing discussion on the matter – he thinks it’s silly that I even mention the Cherokee, when it’s five generations back. (The lone Welshwoman, on my dad’s side, was also five generations back.) My retort is that he’s about as much Scottish as I am Cherokee or Welsh; the only reason he thinks he’s Scottish is that the ancestor whose surname he bears came from Scotland, five generations back, and since then his family tree has included English and German names but no more Scots. Edit: I did a bit of quick research, and it turns out that at least two of the family names on his tree, Meek and Adair, could be either English or Scots. So until someone does some hard research on the particular Meeks and Adairs in question, there goes my argument.
Luckily for me, I can wear Chanel even if there’s no French – so far as we know, anyway – in my ancestry. I wore No. 5, in honor of my mom. (For that review, and an homage to my mother, see here.)
Photo of my actual bottle of vintage No. 19 courtesy of eBay.com.