Or you may be like most Americans and run out and buy cheap Chinese goods at Walmart...but just in case you are looking to keep the money here I have come up with a list of American perfumers to satisfy both your need for great niche scents and your desire to keep the dollars at home.
The youngest perfumer on the list is Serena Ava Franco of San Diego, California. She is a talented and enterprising young woman who creates beautiful contemporary jewelry as well as a stunning line of fragrances. The scents range from classic florals, to incenses and ambers and woods. She markets the fragrances, both extraits and eau de parfums, under the name Ava-Luxe. Just go to http://www.ava-luxe.com/ and see for yourself. Oh, one little thing, Ms. Franco is in the process of updating her site and you may be redirected to her Etsy site (which is a great source for artisan works, btw). I can't get enough of her gourmand scents. People follow me around sniffing the air when I wear these.
Next we have the spectacular Cristopher Brosius, who has created some of the most unusual and realistic perfumes you will find anywhere. Yes, you can get Tea Rose, Narcissus or The Fir Tree, but you can also get compositions like In the Library (yes it smells like a library), In The Summer Kitchen (garden melange of herbs and vegetables and farmy wooden rafters), or Gathering Apples ( you'll feel like you're in the autumn orchard). Check the site: http://www.cbihateperfume.com/ . My next purchase will be his I Am A Dandelion, for when the maximalist feels like being a nature girl. CB I Hate Perfume is located in Brooklyn!
Michael Storer of http://www.michaelstorer.com/ is a creater of grand traditional perfumes. I have sampled these (Mr. Storer sells samples as well as bottles) and have been blown away by the "sister" scents: Genvieve, Yvette, and Stephanie. Stephanie, my favorite of the line, is the most exquisitely conceived gardenia scent available, sumptuous, and very natural. You will feel yourself transported to a garden of white gardenias that is always at the height of its beauty. Stephanie, like all of Mr. Storer's line, is devoid of the plasticky, artificial feel that plagues so many white floral scents. You will love them, your girlfriend will love them, your mother will be impressed and start raving about how these take her back to a time when scents were opulent and sexy, not light and sporty. Maybe it's the Los Angeles location that inspired Mr. Storer to create a line of perfumes that the Hollywood of Ava Gardner and Gene Tierney would have loved.
Keiko Mecheri (http://www.keikomecheri.com/) of Beverly Hills started with a handful of scents and has blossomed into a line of over twenty scents that range from orientals like Loukhoum, to soliflores like Damascena ( a rose, of course), to lighter fare such as her Eaux Tendres and Eau Fraiches. Ms Mecheri's work is available at Barney's and Neiman Marcus and you can find it on the web at http://www.luckyscent.com/. In the summer, I often live in her splendid soliflore Jasmine, which blooms beautifully in the warm evenings.
Other American made fragrance lines include Yosh Han, Michael Kors, Ralph Lauren, Elizabeth Arden, Donna Karan, Estee Lauder, and well open your eyes and look at the bottles!
Feel free to add American fragrant suggestions in the comments section.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Because Gastroenterology is boring, that's why!
Hollywood's preoccupation with psychiatry goes back a long way and is showing no signs of abating any time soon. Here's a list of movies that deal with psychiatry on some level.
Now, Voyager (Bette Davis and Claude Rains)
The Seventh Veil (Ann Todd and James Mason....a favorite of the Maximalist)
Ordinary People (Mary Tyler Moore, Donald Sutherland, Judd Hirch, Tim Hutton)
Girl Interrupted (Winona Ryder and Angelina Jolie)
A Beautiful Mind (Russell Crowe, Christopher Plummer)
Spellbound (Ingrid Bergman, Gregory Peck, Dali's fabulous art)
Prince of Tides (Barbra Steisand, Nick Nolte)
Suddenly Last Summer ( Montgomery Clift, Katharine Hepburn, Elizabeth Taylor)
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (Jack Nicholson)
Dressed to Kill (Michael Caine)
The Snake Pit (Olivia DeHavilland)
A Streetcar Named Desire (Brando and Vivien Leigh)
Lilith (Jean Seberg, Warren Beatty, Gene Hackman)
Don Juan DeMarco (Brando, Johnny Depp)
Analyze This (Robert DeNiro, Billy Crystal)
The Three Faces of Eve (Joanne Woodward..if you believe in multiples and I don't)
Sybil (Sally Fields, ditto)
As Good as it Gets (Jack Nicholson)
Many Woody Allen Films have therapy scenes.
I'm sure I missed quite a few.
The point of the list is that psychiatric disorders make for interesting movies. When other specialties are featured the action is more often centered around the lives of the doctor or patient and the illness is just an excuse to examine feelings (depression, stress anxiety...psych again) or highlight the heroic expertise of the physician in the face of harrowing odds and all that blood. No one makes a movie about ulcers, pancreatitis, COPD or prostate surgery.
Now, Voyager (Bette Davis and Claude Rains)
The Seventh Veil (Ann Todd and James Mason....a favorite of the Maximalist)
Ordinary People (Mary Tyler Moore, Donald Sutherland, Judd Hirch, Tim Hutton)
Girl Interrupted (Winona Ryder and Angelina Jolie)
A Beautiful Mind (Russell Crowe, Christopher Plummer)
Spellbound (Ingrid Bergman, Gregory Peck, Dali's fabulous art)
Prince of Tides (Barbra Steisand, Nick Nolte)
Suddenly Last Summer ( Montgomery Clift, Katharine Hepburn, Elizabeth Taylor)
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (Jack Nicholson)
Dressed to Kill (Michael Caine)
The Snake Pit (Olivia DeHavilland)
A Streetcar Named Desire (Brando and Vivien Leigh)
Lilith (Jean Seberg, Warren Beatty, Gene Hackman)
Don Juan DeMarco (Brando, Johnny Depp)
Analyze This (Robert DeNiro, Billy Crystal)
The Three Faces of Eve (Joanne Woodward..if you believe in multiples and I don't)
Sybil (Sally Fields, ditto)
As Good as it Gets (Jack Nicholson)
Many Woody Allen Films have therapy scenes.
I'm sure I missed quite a few.
The point of the list is that psychiatric disorders make for interesting movies. When other specialties are featured the action is more often centered around the lives of the doctor or patient and the illness is just an excuse to examine feelings (depression, stress anxiety...psych again) or highlight the heroic expertise of the physician in the face of harrowing odds and all that blood. No one makes a movie about ulcers, pancreatitis, COPD or prostate surgery.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
" Me, Myself and I", Edward Albee at the McCarter (Spoiler alert)
Edward Albee's new play started with a scene that would be familiar to any perfume lover as Tyne Daly tries a new fragrance by applying a magazine test strip to her wrists and chest. After that, Me, Myself and I veered off into a weird place populated by as unlikely a group of characters as you are apt to see on any stage. By "unlikely" I do not mean interesting, original, zany or any other adjective that could be construed as positive, I mean not plausible.
Tyne Daly plays "Mother" a woman in her late fifties and mother to identical twin boys both named "Otto". One of the twins is "loud OTTO" all in capital letters, and the other is "soft otto" all in small letters and they are played beautifully by Michael Esper and Colin Donnell. Mother was abandoned by the twins' father immediately after the delivery and has lived for these twenty-eight years with a "shrink" who is only called "Dr." In the first scene, OTTO announces that he no longer has a twin and that he is moving to China to become Chinese. OTTO is angry with his mother throughout the play, blaming her for driving the father away and for taking up with the doctor whom he despises. In this scene he warns the doctor to leave his mother's bed as the father will soon be returning. Not only will the father return but he will be riding in on black panthers and will be bearing a vast quantity of emeralds. OTTO is profane, hostile and in short the proverbial "evil twin".
The doctor is a peculiar fellow who shares Mother's bed and always sleeps fully dressed in a suit and tie and even wears his shoes. A metaphor for inability to commit, perhaps. He is played by Broadway veteran, Brian Murray. It is an odd relationship, as the man tolerates verbal abuse from Mother and both sons and stays in the relationship.
The other twin, otto, also appears in the first act and is the softer more pleasant young man. He arrives on the scene to inform his mother and the doctor, to whom he is polite, that he has met a young lady, Maureen, that he is in love, and that he would like Maureen to meet the family. Mother and the doctor seem pleased by the news, but go on to inform otto that OTTO has decided to become Chinese and that he, lower case otto, no longer exists.
Lower case otto is devastated by the news, twins do not do that to each other. He runs to Maureen, Charlotte Perry, to share the news, to weep and rant, and to ask for assurance that he does indeed exist.
The balance of the play is largely predictable. Mother and the doctor meet the hapless Maureen
(with a disorganized picnic basket full of uncooked hotdogs and generally inedible fare) and Mother essentially informs her that she will not let her get in the way of her love for her sons and her need to be loved by them. OTTO callously sleeps with Maureen (after all they are identical) and is interrupted by an again devastated otto. The ensemble gets together to resolve the unresolvable and are on the verge of a limited success when the twins' father "The Man" returns riding in on a Santa Claus sleigh full of enormous emeralds and pulled by four equally ridiculous plastic black panthers. This is labeled 'The Happy Ending" by a sign that flops down from above the actors. Daly, who can do nothing right, insists on berating the middle aged, emerald bearing cowboy who leaves again. She asks "What did I do?" Curtain falls.
Right. A disappointing ending to a disappointing play.
The twenty-eight year old sons behave like adolescents one with the unrealistic goal of "becoming Chinese", the other with a delayed first love which rouses the destructive jealousy of his twin. The audience is given little information about the boys who seem to spend most of their time obsessed with their mother and their twinship. The doctor is a highly unethical man who conducts an affair with his patient and has done little to prevent the train wreck which is OTTO/otto. In the real world, the twins would have reported this man to the authorities and would have ended up with quite a tidy settlement.
The two couples behind me said the play "needs a lot of work", my husband proclaimed it "a well acted flop" and I decided it was crap and that Albee should just quit writing and rest on his laurels. Did he need the cash? Does he not know when to bow out gracefully? This season has not been a particularly great one at McCarter.
Then I got to thinking about why a playwright the caliber of Albee would write something so preposterous and why Emily Mann would produce such a stinkeroo so obviously rooted in sloppy professional ethics!
Well that's the key isn't it? The doctor Dr. is the key and his going to bed fully dressed is no attempt at cheap humor or obvious metaphor. Mother has never once in twenty-eight years seen her psychiatrist without his suit and shoes and they are the only "real" characters.
Edward Albee has given us an intimate look into the mental processes of a woman who has been schizophrenic for many years.
Earlier today, I though that perhaps the other characters were "real" as well but that we were only seeing them through a sick woman's eyes, but that could not be right either. Soft otto and Loud OTTO are the auditory hallucination children that keep "Mother" company. One voice loves his mother and the other is critical and hates her. As for Maureen and the concept of OTTO going away, well it is not unusual for an additional voice to enter the scene and an early one to grow silent. With the right medication perhaps they will all go away, you say. Well some patients miss their "friends", especially when the real attachments have pulled away. It would be nice to know why "Mother" stopped her medications, whether she missed her boys or whether she was just being switched to a new atypical medication with fewer untoward side effects. But that would have made the play easily understood and a rather pedestrian psych drama. Who could have laughed at the masterful Tyne Daly's tormented character if they knew the source of her torment? That would have been as politically incorrect as Mother's views on the Chinese and Irish American Indians.
Edward Albee has another and more cryptic masterpiece in Me, Myself and I. Bravo Maestro!
I think I'll try to see it again.
Tyne Daly plays "Mother" a woman in her late fifties and mother to identical twin boys both named "Otto". One of the twins is "loud OTTO" all in capital letters, and the other is "soft otto" all in small letters and they are played beautifully by Michael Esper and Colin Donnell. Mother was abandoned by the twins' father immediately after the delivery and has lived for these twenty-eight years with a "shrink" who is only called "Dr." In the first scene, OTTO announces that he no longer has a twin and that he is moving to China to become Chinese. OTTO is angry with his mother throughout the play, blaming her for driving the father away and for taking up with the doctor whom he despises. In this scene he warns the doctor to leave his mother's bed as the father will soon be returning. Not only will the father return but he will be riding in on black panthers and will be bearing a vast quantity of emeralds. OTTO is profane, hostile and in short the proverbial "evil twin".
The doctor is a peculiar fellow who shares Mother's bed and always sleeps fully dressed in a suit and tie and even wears his shoes. A metaphor for inability to commit, perhaps. He is played by Broadway veteran, Brian Murray. It is an odd relationship, as the man tolerates verbal abuse from Mother and both sons and stays in the relationship.
The other twin, otto, also appears in the first act and is the softer more pleasant young man. He arrives on the scene to inform his mother and the doctor, to whom he is polite, that he has met a young lady, Maureen, that he is in love, and that he would like Maureen to meet the family. Mother and the doctor seem pleased by the news, but go on to inform otto that OTTO has decided to become Chinese and that he, lower case otto, no longer exists.
Lower case otto is devastated by the news, twins do not do that to each other. He runs to Maureen, Charlotte Perry, to share the news, to weep and rant, and to ask for assurance that he does indeed exist.
The balance of the play is largely predictable. Mother and the doctor meet the hapless Maureen
(with a disorganized picnic basket full of uncooked hotdogs and generally inedible fare) and Mother essentially informs her that she will not let her get in the way of her love for her sons and her need to be loved by them. OTTO callously sleeps with Maureen (after all they are identical) and is interrupted by an again devastated otto. The ensemble gets together to resolve the unresolvable and are on the verge of a limited success when the twins' father "The Man" returns riding in on a Santa Claus sleigh full of enormous emeralds and pulled by four equally ridiculous plastic black panthers. This is labeled 'The Happy Ending" by a sign that flops down from above the actors. Daly, who can do nothing right, insists on berating the middle aged, emerald bearing cowboy who leaves again. She asks "What did I do?" Curtain falls.
Right. A disappointing ending to a disappointing play.
The twenty-eight year old sons behave like adolescents one with the unrealistic goal of "becoming Chinese", the other with a delayed first love which rouses the destructive jealousy of his twin. The audience is given little information about the boys who seem to spend most of their time obsessed with their mother and their twinship. The doctor is a highly unethical man who conducts an affair with his patient and has done little to prevent the train wreck which is OTTO/otto. In the real world, the twins would have reported this man to the authorities and would have ended up with quite a tidy settlement.
The two couples behind me said the play "needs a lot of work", my husband proclaimed it "a well acted flop" and I decided it was crap and that Albee should just quit writing and rest on his laurels. Did he need the cash? Does he not know when to bow out gracefully? This season has not been a particularly great one at McCarter.
Then I got to thinking about why a playwright the caliber of Albee would write something so preposterous and why Emily Mann would produce such a stinkeroo so obviously rooted in sloppy professional ethics!
Well that's the key isn't it? The doctor Dr. is the key and his going to bed fully dressed is no attempt at cheap humor or obvious metaphor. Mother has never once in twenty-eight years seen her psychiatrist without his suit and shoes and they are the only "real" characters.
Edward Albee has given us an intimate look into the mental processes of a woman who has been schizophrenic for many years.
Earlier today, I though that perhaps the other characters were "real" as well but that we were only seeing them through a sick woman's eyes, but that could not be right either. Soft otto and Loud OTTO are the auditory hallucination children that keep "Mother" company. One voice loves his mother and the other is critical and hates her. As for Maureen and the concept of OTTO going away, well it is not unusual for an additional voice to enter the scene and an early one to grow silent. With the right medication perhaps they will all go away, you say. Well some patients miss their "friends", especially when the real attachments have pulled away. It would be nice to know why "Mother" stopped her medications, whether she missed her boys or whether she was just being switched to a new atypical medication with fewer untoward side effects. But that would have made the play easily understood and a rather pedestrian psych drama. Who could have laughed at the masterful Tyne Daly's tormented character if they knew the source of her torment? That would have been as politically incorrect as Mother's views on the Chinese and Irish American Indians.
Edward Albee has another and more cryptic masterpiece in Me, Myself and I. Bravo Maestro!
I think I'll try to see it again.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Perfume blogs and websites I, The Wit
The Web is loaded with sites dedicated to the study/love/criticism of fragrance. Google "perfume blog" and you get over a half a million results. Some review fragrances, some list new offerings and others just chat about the relevance of perfume to their lives. There are message boards dedicated to fragrance and aficionados world wide gather to discuss, sell and swap their collections of perfume which range from department store staples to exotic niche brands to rare vintage specimens. I have my favorite sites and have belonged to message boards. I look at the sites daily and plot future purchases, after all when it comes to perfume more is truly better.
There was one site that stood out from the rest. It stood out because the perfume reviews seemed less concerned about base notes, top notes and heart notes as they did about the mood of the fragrance and the connection between a perfume, literature, culture and memories. I found this blog because of perfume but it, The Wit of the Staircase, was about much more than fragrance. The late Theresa Duncan wrote about books, movies, current affairs and cities. Being from Michigan myself, I enjoyed the Detroit related content as well as the the impressions of another transplanted Midwesterner about New York City and Los Angeles.
Despite the fact that anointing yourself with expensive fragrances is a very elite sort of thing, most perfume blogs and message boards are rather leftist in political orientation. Either the participants do not see $150.00 bottles of fragrance as the sort of extravagance their politics would seek to eliminate or restrict, they see themselves as likely to be exempt from consumption restrictions, or they are merely economically illiterate with respect to the severe socialism they advocate. Theresa Duncan's tastes were of the most expensive variety and her politics were leftist to the point of paranoia. She wrote about some nonsense called Project Monarch which from her perspective would establish GW Bush as, you guessed it, KING! I suspect that there are plenty of loonies out there with similar delusions but they did not write about fragrance and I am not disposed to seek them out for their entertainment value. And I have not heard of many others who have carried the delusion to the point of suicide.
I have no reason to believe that Theresa Duncan was not a suicide. Sure, you can find madmen out there who would like to believe that she was killed for being anti-Bush and anti-Scientology but given the number of live vocal people who share this view the notion seems psychotic. There is a similarly wacky idea floating on the web that Duncan and her boyfriend Blake are still alive and that the suicides were part of an elaborate game. Sad.
To be honest I do not know why Theresa Duncan killed herself or if she really meant to do it at all. I do not mean that it was "arranged" as the maximalist is not a conspiracy kook, but it could have been an accident, an intended "cry for help" that was not discovered in time. If Theresa had survived the overdose of diphenhydramine, tylenol and booze she probably would have been stunned by her own actions. Drinking has a way of making sad people even more hopeless and depressed. Good old alcohol is a depressant. Combine the depressing effects of alcohol with a growing paranoia about the government and Scientology, a stalled career and your 40th birthday and the results can get ugly.
Why the conspiracy theories? Yes, there are a lot of delusional people out there but I believe that the prevalence of conspiracy theories is more connected with a need to deny that bad things can happen to basically good people and in the case of Holocaust deniers (except for those antisemites who know the facts but want to undermine the victims) that evil things can happen at all. In the case of the Duncan Blake suicides the need to deny their tragedy is rooted in "if it could happen to them it could happen to me...so it didn't happen at all".
Consider Theresa Duncan. Theresa was beautiful with her golden locks and Metro Goldwyn Mayer type face. Every picture I have seen showed a slim, ageless and graceful woman who was as stunning on the subway platform as she was in formal dress. She was relatively successful, very bright and had a handsome talented artist boyfriend who was, by all accounts, in love with her and as loyal as a Golden Retriever. The conventional wisdom says "people like that don't commit suicide" and the inner workings of most people say "if I looked like that and had her life I would be deliriously happy". The inner workings of most people also ask "since I don't look like that, I have an irritating job and my husband and I are hardly the stuff of legends, why am I NOT miserable?" That question is difficult to contemplate so we go back to the "people like that don't commit suicide" premise and come up with alternative scenarios and some of these can be pretty fabulous and convoluted.
The truth is that even lovely and talented people can become depressed and can fall prey to substance abuse. Sorry deniers, it's true. Try considering the possibility that you actually have some inner strength.
As for Jeremy Blake's suicide. It shouldn't have happened. The survivor's guilt and grief that follows such a severe loss was predictable. The articles I've read state that Blake was seen as being at high risk for suicide. The sad and tragic thing is that well-intentioned friends felt they could orchestrate an ad hoc suicide watch and protect him from his grief. I don't blame them for failing, but they failed. This was a job for a 24 hour staff and professionals. A psychiatric unit was the place for Blake until he was over the shock of Duncan's death and had stabilized.
That said, the Wit of the Staircase was a joy in its early days. The writing could be fabulous and the social commentary could be witty and insightful. Duncan was obviously well read and was able to successfully connect literature, history and pop culture into an inspiring, thought provoking read. It is a dreadful shame that everything derailed in the end and that tragedy engulfed her.
I miss The Wit of the Staircase.
There was one site that stood out from the rest. It stood out because the perfume reviews seemed less concerned about base notes, top notes and heart notes as they did about the mood of the fragrance and the connection between a perfume, literature, culture and memories. I found this blog because of perfume but it, The Wit of the Staircase, was about much more than fragrance. The late Theresa Duncan wrote about books, movies, current affairs and cities. Being from Michigan myself, I enjoyed the Detroit related content as well as the the impressions of another transplanted Midwesterner about New York City and Los Angeles.
Despite the fact that anointing yourself with expensive fragrances is a very elite sort of thing, most perfume blogs and message boards are rather leftist in political orientation. Either the participants do not see $150.00 bottles of fragrance as the sort of extravagance their politics would seek to eliminate or restrict, they see themselves as likely to be exempt from consumption restrictions, or they are merely economically illiterate with respect to the severe socialism they advocate. Theresa Duncan's tastes were of the most expensive variety and her politics were leftist to the point of paranoia. She wrote about some nonsense called Project Monarch which from her perspective would establish GW Bush as, you guessed it, KING! I suspect that there are plenty of loonies out there with similar delusions but they did not write about fragrance and I am not disposed to seek them out for their entertainment value. And I have not heard of many others who have carried the delusion to the point of suicide.
I have no reason to believe that Theresa Duncan was not a suicide. Sure, you can find madmen out there who would like to believe that she was killed for being anti-Bush and anti-Scientology but given the number of live vocal people who share this view the notion seems psychotic. There is a similarly wacky idea floating on the web that Duncan and her boyfriend Blake are still alive and that the suicides were part of an elaborate game. Sad.
To be honest I do not know why Theresa Duncan killed herself or if she really meant to do it at all. I do not mean that it was "arranged" as the maximalist is not a conspiracy kook, but it could have been an accident, an intended "cry for help" that was not discovered in time. If Theresa had survived the overdose of diphenhydramine, tylenol and booze she probably would have been stunned by her own actions. Drinking has a way of making sad people even more hopeless and depressed. Good old alcohol is a depressant. Combine the depressing effects of alcohol with a growing paranoia about the government and Scientology, a stalled career and your 40th birthday and the results can get ugly.
Why the conspiracy theories? Yes, there are a lot of delusional people out there but I believe that the prevalence of conspiracy theories is more connected with a need to deny that bad things can happen to basically good people and in the case of Holocaust deniers (except for those antisemites who know the facts but want to undermine the victims) that evil things can happen at all. In the case of the Duncan Blake suicides the need to deny their tragedy is rooted in "if it could happen to them it could happen to me...so it didn't happen at all".
Consider Theresa Duncan. Theresa was beautiful with her golden locks and Metro Goldwyn Mayer type face. Every picture I have seen showed a slim, ageless and graceful woman who was as stunning on the subway platform as she was in formal dress. She was relatively successful, very bright and had a handsome talented artist boyfriend who was, by all accounts, in love with her and as loyal as a Golden Retriever. The conventional wisdom says "people like that don't commit suicide" and the inner workings of most people say "if I looked like that and had her life I would be deliriously happy". The inner workings of most people also ask "since I don't look like that, I have an irritating job and my husband and I are hardly the stuff of legends, why am I NOT miserable?" That question is difficult to contemplate so we go back to the "people like that don't commit suicide" premise and come up with alternative scenarios and some of these can be pretty fabulous and convoluted.
The truth is that even lovely and talented people can become depressed and can fall prey to substance abuse. Sorry deniers, it's true. Try considering the possibility that you actually have some inner strength.
As for Jeremy Blake's suicide. It shouldn't have happened. The survivor's guilt and grief that follows such a severe loss was predictable. The articles I've read state that Blake was seen as being at high risk for suicide. The sad and tragic thing is that well-intentioned friends felt they could orchestrate an ad hoc suicide watch and protect him from his grief. I don't blame them for failing, but they failed. This was a job for a 24 hour staff and professionals. A psychiatric unit was the place for Blake until he was over the shock of Duncan's death and had stabilized.
That said, the Wit of the Staircase was a joy in its early days. The writing could be fabulous and the social commentary could be witty and insightful. Duncan was obviously well read and was able to successfully connect literature, history and pop culture into an inspiring, thought provoking read. It is a dreadful shame that everything derailed in the end and that tragedy engulfed her.
I miss The Wit of the Staircase.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Disorderly Perfumes
Well I'm still fuming over the perfume pathology discovery, but if you can't beat them join them! Naturally, I don't believe it for a second, but here goes:
Which scent could be symptomatic of specific psychiatric disorders.
Depression is easy, of course, something blue. Bvlgari's Blu Notte immediately comes to mind, as does RL Blue, L'Heure Bleue (long considered melancholy even by its fans), Iris Bleu Gris by MPG.
Mania? Well of course Armani's Mania, and perhaps Clinique's Happy, Anglomania, Euphoria or Chopard's Madness and Madness Natural Black. Frederic Malle's Outrageous might fit the bill.
Anxiety disorders are tough as they vary so much. There is an impressive array of phobias out there, in additition to Social anxiety, OCD, and panic anxiety. But the best advice is always from CB I Hate Perfume: Just Breathe.
Narcissistic Personalities might enjoy Egoiste, Beautiful, Lovely, and anything with perfect in the name. Or they might just opt for scents by Britney, Paris or Tom Ford.
No, I will not speculate on paraphilia fragrances. But I will say that if you scour the fragrance reviews on perfumey blogs you will find plenty of reviews that could lead you to stuff that smells like urine or feces if that's what floats your boat.
One might think Sociopaths could be found wearing Lanvin's old Scandal, Unforgivable, Covet or Tubereuse Criminelle. In reality they are pretty deceptive, so one should be on the look out for Angel Innocent. Don't expect them to wear BPALs like Bloodlust, Depraved or Sin. Life is rarely that straightforward.
In reality, few diseases or disorders are connected with smell. Persons with a bowel obstruction may have a fecal smelling breath, those with kidney failure might smell of ammonia, and diabetics in ketoacidosis are said to have a fruity smell.
And by the way, back in 2002, the Archives of General Psychiatry published a finding that persons with Seasonal Affective Disorder had a more, not less, acute sense of smell.
Go figure.
Freud said, "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar". The Maximalist says, "A perfume is just a perfume."
Which scent could be symptomatic of specific psychiatric disorders.
Depression is easy, of course, something blue. Bvlgari's Blu Notte immediately comes to mind, as does RL Blue, L'Heure Bleue (long considered melancholy even by its fans), Iris Bleu Gris by MPG.
Mania? Well of course Armani's Mania, and perhaps Clinique's Happy, Anglomania, Euphoria or Chopard's Madness and Madness Natural Black. Frederic Malle's Outrageous might fit the bill.
Anxiety disorders are tough as they vary so much. There is an impressive array of phobias out there, in additition to Social anxiety, OCD, and panic anxiety. But the best advice is always from CB I Hate Perfume: Just Breathe.
Narcissistic Personalities might enjoy Egoiste, Beautiful, Lovely, and anything with perfect in the name. Or they might just opt for scents by Britney, Paris or Tom Ford.
No, I will not speculate on paraphilia fragrances. But I will say that if you scour the fragrance reviews on perfumey blogs you will find plenty of reviews that could lead you to stuff that smells like urine or feces if that's what floats your boat.
One might think Sociopaths could be found wearing Lanvin's old Scandal, Unforgivable, Covet or Tubereuse Criminelle. In reality they are pretty deceptive, so one should be on the look out for Angel Innocent. Don't expect them to wear BPALs like Bloodlust, Depraved or Sin. Life is rarely that straightforward.
In reality, few diseases or disorders are connected with smell. Persons with a bowel obstruction may have a fecal smelling breath, those with kidney failure might smell of ammonia, and diabetics in ketoacidosis are said to have a fruity smell.
And by the way, back in 2002, the Archives of General Psychiatry published a finding that persons with Seasonal Affective Disorder had a more, not less, acute sense of smell.
Go figure.
Freud said, "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar". The Maximalist says, "A perfume is just a perfume."
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Perfume and Depression, Part II
The more I think of linking perfume to illness the more "incensed" I become. Perhaps one's sense of smell can be affected by depression and you fail to notice smells, but that would appear to be more a question of anhedonia in the case of fragrance, as I have mentioned depression rarely makes someone take an increased interest in pleasure and personal appearance.
If our brilliant scientists want to turn "overuse" of perfume into a pathological condition, and I'm convinced there is a prejudice against beautifully fragranced women in that "finding", perhaps the researchers should have decloaked their biases and opted for something else, say a personality disorder. Hmmm, maybe Narcissistic Personality Disorder with its focus on entitlement and admiration would better explain waves of floriental sillage? I mean, Professor Shoenfeld, if you have to turn overuse of fragrance (and you have not really explained what overuse is) into a psyciatric disorder why not go all the way? Instead of "poor baby, you wear too much Mitsouko", lets open the anti-fragrance sluice and say instead "you self-important, entitled woman, why don't you have more empathy for scientists who would rather smell formaldehyde?"
I for one will continue to wear perfumes without wondering if the wearing signals depression or narcissism to a scientist who would be better off not trying to take a possible decrease in olfactory perceptions among the depressed and jump to conclusions about women who wear an undefined overabundance of scent. Perfumes are a matter of personal preference. For many fragrance wearing signals a love for life and a passion for enjoying the beautiful things life has to offer. Joie de vivre, even if sometimes overdone, is not among the diagnostic criteria for a Depressive Disorder! The Maximalist loves fragrance, has a huge and growing collection, and will not be detered from enjoying it.
Today, I will wear an extra delicious spritz or two to celebrate the joy I find in perfume. Today, I'll enjoy Mr. Luten's fabulous Chergui and I'll not worry who is bothered.
Take that Professor Shoenfeld!
If our brilliant scientists want to turn "overuse" of perfume into a pathological condition, and I'm convinced there is a prejudice against beautifully fragranced women in that "finding", perhaps the researchers should have decloaked their biases and opted for something else, say a personality disorder. Hmmm, maybe Narcissistic Personality Disorder with its focus on entitlement and admiration would better explain waves of floriental sillage? I mean, Professor Shoenfeld, if you have to turn overuse of fragrance (and you have not really explained what overuse is) into a psyciatric disorder why not go all the way? Instead of "poor baby, you wear too much Mitsouko", lets open the anti-fragrance sluice and say instead "you self-important, entitled woman, why don't you have more empathy for scientists who would rather smell formaldehyde?"
I for one will continue to wear perfumes without wondering if the wearing signals depression or narcissism to a scientist who would be better off not trying to take a possible decrease in olfactory perceptions among the depressed and jump to conclusions about women who wear an undefined overabundance of scent. Perfumes are a matter of personal preference. For many fragrance wearing signals a love for life and a passion for enjoying the beautiful things life has to offer. Joie de vivre, even if sometimes overdone, is not among the diagnostic criteria for a Depressive Disorder! The Maximalist loves fragrance, has a huge and growing collection, and will not be detered from enjoying it.
Today, I will wear an extra delicious spritz or two to celebrate the joy I find in perfume. Today, I'll enjoy Mr. Luten's fabulous Chergui and I'll not worry who is bothered.
Take that Professor Shoenfeld!
Monday, January 7, 2008
Perfume and Depression?
The U.K. Telegraph tells us that "scientists" have said that women who use too much perfume could be depressed and that the sense of smell is impaired in people with this disorder.
Well, I think scientists have too much time on their hands, too much money to waste and have little olfactory experience with Major Depression.
I, on the other hand, have plenty of experience in this area and I have never noticed the severely depressed to be heavily perfumed. Quite the contrary. Many persons come into the mental health setting with hygiene that is often quite lax and sometimes altogether absent. Self care requires adequate self esteem, energy and motivation. Often individuals suffering from depression are too paralyzed, too exhausted and too miserable to pay attention to "looking their best" or smelling their best. Few smell of Chanel, Hermes or Serge Lutens, many don't comb their hair or brush their teeth. In short, they are prone to neglect themselves.
Naturally, there may be exceptions to this and some depressed people adopt (or are told by professionals to adopt) a "fake it 'til you make it" approach to self care. I have rarely seen these individuals go wild with the atomizer.
Now, what has this to do with my maximalist theme? Enough. "Too much" perfume sounds pretty subjective and rather judgemental of women. "Too much" perfume is "sick". I also noted that the learned scientists did not mention males who over spray the Old Spice. Fathom that.
I wonder how much was spent to arrive at this important conclusion?
Well, I think scientists have too much time on their hands, too much money to waste and have little olfactory experience with Major Depression.
I, on the other hand, have plenty of experience in this area and I have never noticed the severely depressed to be heavily perfumed. Quite the contrary. Many persons come into the mental health setting with hygiene that is often quite lax and sometimes altogether absent. Self care requires adequate self esteem, energy and motivation. Often individuals suffering from depression are too paralyzed, too exhausted and too miserable to pay attention to "looking their best" or smelling their best. Few smell of Chanel, Hermes or Serge Lutens, many don't comb their hair or brush their teeth. In short, they are prone to neglect themselves.
Naturally, there may be exceptions to this and some depressed people adopt (or are told by professionals to adopt) a "fake it 'til you make it" approach to self care. I have rarely seen these individuals go wild with the atomizer.
Now, what has this to do with my maximalist theme? Enough. "Too much" perfume sounds pretty subjective and rather judgemental of women. "Too much" perfume is "sick". I also noted that the learned scientists did not mention males who over spray the Old Spice. Fathom that.
I wonder how much was spent to arrive at this important conclusion?
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