Sunday, January 18, 2009

Wish I'd written that

Last week's Wall Street Journal had such a poignant article by Andre Aciman, Should an Old Fragrance be Forgot. His father had a signature scent that called up memories of their time together. During the senior Aciman's final days, his son goes on a quest to find a bottle of Aria de Parma. I'd read Aciman's books and other articles, but I'd never been so captivated by any of his writing before. I wish I'd written it

It made me think of how scent colors our lives. My Dad never had a signature cologne. He wore whatever we gave him. But when I walk past the men's aftershave section of CVS, I sometimes open the cap on the Canoe or the English Leather. And in an instant I'm back in 1965. Dad is young - younger than my husband is today - and my legs are in fishnets and my skirt comes up to mid-thigh.

I'm always searching for the perfect fragrance. A magic elixer that somehow broadcasts the essence of me to the world. A scent that stops people in their tracks and makes women want to know what I'm wearing and men want to who I am. I have five bottles on my dresser now. If I have an especially good day wearing one perfume, I'll wear it on special days when I need an extra bit of luck. But so far, no one has offered to take me to Paris because of my perfume.

1 comment:

Andre said...

Thanks, Nadine. I'm on Facebook.