Not long ago I visited some friends who had bought a new painting. We stood in the living room and admired it. It was a portrait washed in beige and brown by a local artist, and it was, well, nice. I looked around. The room was pleasant — comfortable couch, matching chairs, smart books, a framed poster of an opera — but something seemed to be missing. The room lacked inspiration. On the way home, I thought of the missing ingredient: wit.
Not much later I met a friend of a friend. She was smart, had marvelous taste, told fascinating stories, and loved to gesticulate, cigarette in the air, about some political issue or another. I liked her, and yet I knew we would probably never be close friends. Why? There was no humor, no wit about her.
Likewise, perfume can contain wit — or not. Some fragrances are grand compositions, but don't feel personal. I still can't get comfortable wearing Rochas Madame Rochas, for instance. Even though I admire it, it feels too of-a-piece. Other fragrances seems totally without wit and are stamped-out versions of some predictable formula. Just insert the latest celebrity fragrance here.
Still, some perfumes invite you in with something askew, something unexpected, a little bit of soul. To me, Edmond Roudnitska was the master of creating fragrances with wit. Take Christian Dior Diorella, for instance. It is repulsively beautiful, all lemon, herbs, and salty, rotting meat. It's somehow refreshing and past its expiration date at the same time. It makes me laugh, and I love it. Roudnitska's Rochas Femme throbs with an overdose of fruit and sex. I love it, too.
But before we go on to more perfumes with wit, let's examine wit more closely. I realize some people might see wit as the ability of some too smart, sarcastic people to cut down others. That's not what I mean. Sure, Oscar Wilde is witty, but I think he'd be terrifying to know personally. Wit isn't exactly humor, either, since humor can be flat out slapstick, and that's not what I mean.
I think Mark Twain best summed up my view of wit when he wrote, "Wit is the sudden marriage of ideas which before their union were not perceived to have any relation." Wit is the piece that surprises, and yet still feels perfectly natural. Wit can be ugly, occasionally kitschy, shocking, or humorous, but when you experience it, your reaction is likely to be "Why didn't I think of that?"
In the living room I wrote about above, wit might have been a framed quartet of 1960s paintings of strangers above the couch, or letting the mutt lounge on the son's old Star Wars sheet on the couch, or even the first season of Mission Impossible next to the television set waiting to be watched. For the friend of a friend I mentioned above, wit might have been the ability to laugh at an absurd situation instead of turn it into something personal, or to enjoy beer with pigs in a blanket instead of insisting on the Wine Spectator's most favored new release. Life is ridiculous and full of possibility, and that's its beauty.
Perfume with wit steps out of predictable territory and yet still can be startlingly beautiful and dignified — or goofy but fun. Thierry Mugler Angel is surely a prime example of perfume with wit. Who would have thought cotton candy and patchouli could be so intriguing? Givenchy L'Interdit must have been witty in its day when strawberry was laughable for a couture perfume. Germaine Cellier churned out witty fragrances by playing on extremes: Piguet Bandit hyped galbanum and leather; Balmain Jolie Madame daringly mixed delicate violet with tough leather; and the original Balmain Vent Vert was teeth achingly green. Today, Serge Lutens often adds wit through his funky opening notes: gasoline for Tubéreuse Criminelle, burnt rubber for Cuir Mauresque, cumin in Fleur d'Oranger, and so on.
Sometimes wit is more subtle and makes itself known by the artist's style. Bertrand Duchaufour is on a streak of splashing his singularity — and so his wit — across some of his recent releases. Vero Kern and Andy Tauer cleave from the expected but follow a consistent style that reflects their aesthetics, and so their wit. And I always love to see what Comme des Garçons is up to.
Even if a fragrance is beautiful but staid, you can still wear it with wit. That's part of the beauty of perfume. Fragrance when worn is part of something greater. The goth beauty wearing Chanel No. 5 or the grandmother reveling in Britney Spears Curious are the height of wit. Maybe that's the lesson here: wear perfume like you own it. Make it part of the crazy, individual person you are. Wear it with wit.
Note: image via Parfum de Pub.
Angela, wonderful pondering, I truly enjoyed it, especially wearing Diorella today : D thaaaanks
Diorella is terrific! It took me a while to come around to it, but now I can’t get enough of it.
Is vintage the way to go with this, as with so many Diors?
I have a relatively new bottle–maybe 3 or 4 years old–and it smells great to me.
Ooooh, what a lovely read in the morning. Sets up my whole day, Angiekins.
Your use of the adverb throb in relation to Femme is the definition of wit, m’dear. 😉
Wit can be mean-spirited, but when it has heart, it makes all the difference. “Good humour” and humour are two different things, as you point out, and good-humoured wit is just about the best thing there is.
Your choices of witty fragrances is spot-on, and I’m trying to think of some more. I think Tom Ford, of all unlikely people, managed a spark of it with Velvet Gardenia, which assaulted me in the most delightful way with its overdose of realism – mushrooms, raunchy beeswax and all. Packaging can be witty, too. I just snagged a thrift store bottle of Jean Paul Gaultier Fragile edt (a surprisingly witty tuberose in itself, where Francis Kurkdjian tarts up tuberose with sparkling orange and capsicum), and absolutely love the removable “snow globe” cap in which a half-inch-tall evening-gowned little figure celebrates in a flurry of gold glitter.
I feel like I really didn’t do the idea of wit justice in this post, and I was hoping people would somehow read my mind and figure it out—as you have!
L’Etat Libre walks the line between wit and gag, in my mind. And, yes, there’s definitely some witty packaging out there.
You and Angela find such fabulous items at gift shops. Either my locals are just duds, or someone is scooping me– because all I ever see are things I would donate to a gift shop, not things I would buy from one.
You know what I found last week at a thrift shop? I’m still flabbergasted, but I found a bottle of Amouage gold in the old “Cristal” packaging. Still smells good, too.
!!!!!!!!!!!!
OMG!!! That rocks!!!
Flabbergasted, indeed.
Grrrrrrrrr. Am am SO glad you don’t live in Vancouver, Angela, or the fur would be flyin’. No, wait a sec. I’d be forever walking into the thrift stores just as you’re waltzing out with the five-buck gallon of vintage Chamade. 😉
Only in my dreams!
Oops, it’s a verb! More coffee please, Jeeves. 😉
So that’s where Jeeves went! He was supposed to be here, making *my* coffee!
Gaaa! And take off the s in choices and we’ll be just fine . . .
Have you not seen the bevy of grammatical gaffs that happen around here? ok, usually made by me…but that’s beside the point! Maybe Jeeves is slipping you de-caffeinated…. 😉
I mangle grammar and spelling all the time here. It makes me feel so much better when I’m not the only one!
Thanks, you guys. I don’t think a comment of mine goes by without at least tow typos.
P.S. THAT was deliberate. 😉
There is something that I love about Andy Tauer that I cant quite put my finger on. Maybe its the fact that when I emailed him about when his teaser set of his samples would be available again. He responds, “It will be ready when its ready,” and then proceeds to place a smiley face at the end. He has me transfixed with his wit. Aside from the fact that he was able to embody a cowboy in his lonestar fragrance. I’m from Texas, so that touched something special with me. I might end up owning everything he makes. I’ve also thought about offering a free hand at mixing his fragrances in Switzerland. Maybe I’ll call it an internship and he’ll agree to it. One can only dream….
His fragrances are diverse, but still seem to be about him. That’s real style. I think Une Rose Chyprée is my favorite, but they’re all worth smelling, I think!
As always, Angela, I just love your thought provoking writing. I wonder if you remember a commercial from a few years ago, possibly for the Ipod. Rock music plays while a disheveled & very hip young man slides into an office chair. He removes his earbuds and is revealed as a chunky, balding working guy in a suit – inwardly transformed by the music although outwardly something completely different. Perfume often makes me feel that way – a comfortable, motherly middle age matron on the outside, but elevated by my spritz of Musc Ravageur to pure inner rockstar, as I make my way around the Walmart in my small midwestern town. It’s witty to me, anyway. Enjoy your day –
Yes! That is wit to me, too, taking two things that seem incongruous and showing how they relate. Sure, people see one Rosarita, but the other Rosarita is there, too, to smell, and it works because it’s true and intelligent.
I wa thinking more along the same lines…
I am a 37 yo man that (thnaks to some good genes) looks several years younger and as I work in a company that does not have a problem with dress codes or external appeareance, I dress in a very casual way. Also after several years of having my hair short, I grew it to past my shoulders. People outside the company (and some newcomers too) unfortunately tend to think about “rank” based on how you dress, so I always try to play around with perfumes, going “serious” while wearing jeans and a T shirt or the other way around, using very fresh and light scents on those days I have to “dress up” for meetings with providers.
I loved this article. Wit is fun.
Wilde said it best…If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they’ll kill you. 😉
It sounds like you’re very conscious of how you use scent and how you mix it with your appearance. Nice!
Ahh the magic of perfume…it really does transcend time and space doesn’t it! I feel exactly the same – I have found some of the most wonderful witty things that I love because they offset the terribly serious – strangely they are often in the frighteningly fruity or the killer vanilla ‘designed’ for those about forty years my junior!
It’s great any time you feel the “that’s not what I was expecting, but it’s perfect!” vibe.
In French, we don’t say “wit” but “esprit” — spirit, a word intimately related to perfume since in the old days, this was what perfumers called essential oils, which kind of links booze to fragrance but also to the mind and to ghosts…
I remember having a discussion about wit with Octavian. I think it was the Humiecki & Graef series that had us laughing out loud. One in particular did stuff with Jean-Claude Ellena’s Déclaration that we found somehow hilarious, Askew, I think.
I’d say Cellier definitely had wit, in real life as well from what I’ve heard from people who knew her.
“Esprit” is such a better way to put it. “Wit” is hard to define, and can too often come across as ha-ha humor or denigration. Sometimes wit makes a person laugh, and sometimes it’s just eye opening.
Great article, Angela! Both Diorella and Bandit never fail to put a smile on my face.
The last fragrance that amused me was Theo Fennell. I was expecting some sort of classic creation aimed at the rich ladies shopping for expensive jewels. Instead it’s a seriously skanky thing, animalic to the point of being..well… goaty. I took one sniff and almost burst out laughing at how unexpected it was.
“Goaty” is such a great way to describe a fragrance!
Oh darn!!! I found bottles of this going for a song on ‘bay, but it was the EDT version, its lovely, but I think its been defanged…whaaa
The Theo Fennell? That would be a shame!
wonderfully written and I loved the Bandit visual…….my most favorite fragrance ……………ever! Here’s a little something that I think resonates with Wit and Fragrance too: taste is a posture, not a purchase.
Bandit is also my most favourite scent ever! Funnily enough, it’s one I’ve never owned though! I can’t make-up my mind whether to buy the extrait or the EdP………what’s your preference?
Bandit is one I love to spray, so I like the EdP.
Eau de Parfum for sure!
Which brings up another question: what is the relationship between wit and taste? Or taste and style?
That’s interesting. I would say that real style always has an element of wit, as you defined wit.
I think so, too. Style has personality, and taste doesn’t always.
I think people can be dripping with good taste and have no style at all – I agree that wit and humor, and maybe just pain old cleverness are keys to true style. It’s like people who “try” to be hip – never quite works.
I see what you mean. Taste can feel dead if it’s played too straight.
excellent essay Angela– I enjoy reading your take on perfume (and the world!) another word to throw out–charm, which I think applies to how we develop and share our personal style. JM Barrie said. “If a woman has charm she doesn’t need anything else…if she doesn’t, nothing else matters.” I think perfume only adds to personal style.
Charm! I haven’t really thought about charm, but now I will. Thank you!
Marvelous essay. Thank you for this reminder to lighten up! 🙂
You’re welcome!
Angela, I’m putting this article on my virtual “favorites” shelf. I read it, and re-read it, and then just sat for a few minutes and thought about it. Thank you!
I’m thinking about the element of tension in wit. There is a certain pleasurable challenge presented by the witty conversation or work of art or fragrance. Two fragrances that pop into my mind are Jicky and Stephen Jones. One is modern, one is not, but both are ALIVE with wit! And, like your article, they put a big smile on my face.
I think the tension you’re wrote about comes from the unexpected juxtaposition. (Then the smile comes from how natural it all seems!) Jicky and Stephen Jones are both super witty!
Yes! 🙂
Angela, Thanks for such a great post – it really got me thinking and I totally agree that wit is essential in life. I quite like this quote about wit and it seems apropos to the conversation:
Wit is the appearance, the external flash of imagination. Thus its divinity, and the witty character of mysticism.
Perfume is like an expression of your inner life and the things you wish/imagine yourself to be, Today I am a dreamy romantic wafting trails of Apres L’Ondee..
Ooh, I like that, FragrantWitch!
Imagination and wit go hand in hand!
Love this. All I can say is: Why didn’t I think of that?
Miss Kitty, you are a jewel.
An emerald is my guess.
Perfect! (Why didn’t I think of that?)
I second Miss Kitty but am still going to say something.
I had to go try the Velvet Gardenia again per Robin R up above – more liberally than the first time. It is quite witty! I ‘m liking it’s overboardness – good mix of beauty and stink.
The first perfume that I think made me laugh was A*Men Pure Coffee. I kept putting my wrist to my nose and giggling, and I’m sorry I never got a dab of it.
I definitely need to try Diorella again – rotting meat? I am one who enjoys a titch of repulsiveness in some things, and if it is also beautiful so much the better.
I can see I’m going to have to track down some Velvet Gardenia! And it sounds like you need to find yourself a decant of A*men coffee.
Sometimes, we’re lucky enough to read something that articulates something we’ve been thinking, only better. Thank you Angela! BTW, when i ventured out of doors after a hurrican several years ago, surveyed the devastation that was once my neighborhood, and helped organize folks into a clean up and chain-saw party, I had seen fit to liberally apply Chanel No. 5 body creme, which seemed to amuse said neighbors. I’m pretty sure weilding an ax while wearing iconic French perfume is witty – or at least so I hope since the alternative might be simply “crazy”!
That sounds witty and beautiful and scary!
And “Wear it with wit.” I will !
I heart you Angela<3
Your musings are my favorite .
You’re so nice!
I loved reading this. Thanks Angela! 😉
I’m glad you enjoyed it!
Gosh, if wit is wacky juxtapositions, my whole life is witty! You nailed that description of your friends’ apartment; I can’t stand “good taste” or its partner, no taste — I’ll take bad taste over those any day. It can even be in a literal sense: I’ve eaten food that was cooked from excellent ingredients and with complete competence, but something was missing — wit, love, yumminess.
Bandit is definitely witty; AG Eau de Fier also puts a smile on my face. And I’m a sucker for a witty name — Heeley’s Oranges and Lemons, Kenzo UFO, any number of ELd’O scents, etc. — although it’s sooo much easier to achieve wit on the label than inside the bottle.
I think it takes a lot of intelligence and imagination to live with wit, even if wit is difficult to pin down. I know just what you mean about the meal that should be fabulous but just somehow comes out mediocre, too.
You’ve nailed it right on the head! What is life without wit? Somber and meaningful and insightful and kind of boring? This post makes me think of my son’s favorite book, Where the Wild Things Are. A close friend bought me the plastic molded character of Max with his wild romping gleeful face and I keep it in my kitchen – yes, people think it’s weird. What do I care? I love Max! He embodies the adventure of life and all it entails. And it’s witty!
Gosh, it’s been forever since I’ve read that book. I’m going to reread it right away!
Interesting Exploration of Wit and it’s Relation to Fragrance…
however for me, and this is absolutely personal, for me, when a Fragrance is GOOD, and even the low class ends of the spectrum of fragrance can be GOOD, I am loathe to say it, but damnit if Old Spice on the right guy doesn’t smell wonderful (and hence it still sells after all these years and all these fashionable extremes in scent) It is simply, GOOD! if it is GREAT, then a fragrance needs nothing more added to it than itself. it is it’s own Ne Plus Ultra! Take, Par Example, something like Yves Saint Laurent Champagne, (which my mother was wearing today, to HEADY Perfection) there is really nothing in that fragrance that one might categorize as Witty, Perhaps the name is witty enough, but even now that it is called Yvresse it is still Sublimely Beautiful enough to bring tears to my eyes of joy, simply for the fact that the composition is like a Beethoven Symphony, all the Right Notes in all the right places and amounts! It Never fails to transport simply because it is Ethereal! Fragrance should Be Ethereal, Even at times Disposable and Ephemeral! The job of a GREAT perfume is in it’s Genius and Greatness it makes us dream of things we normally never dream or think of, it transports and sublimates the ordinary into something Daring and Precious! I mean for me, Sublime by Patou, Chanel No.5, Estee By Estee Lauder, Gardenia By Chanel, Pretexte By Lanvin, Fahrentheit By Dior, and so many others, when i smell them, I feel awash in a rush of Emotion! they play on all my senses and captivate my imagination so that all that remains is the impression they have left on my psyche and how getting a whiff of those scents takes me back to those mental Arabesques and Pirouettes of Fanciful excitation! Since Fragrance is the Ultimate Intangible Frisson, With a Painting or Sculpture it isomething we can see,feel, touch, we can categorize it immediately because the sensation is immediate, same as with taste and sound, the stimuli is so hyperkinetic that we can base the complexity of those things by using our other senses as well… but Smell… AH….. we can be blindfolded and hands behind out back and know immediately the fragrance our mother wore when she gave us hugs and we were pressed to her bosom… or as it is with say, Narciso Rodriguez, when a lovely and long Gone beautiful Sylph of a sister would breeze in and all the life in the room was suddenly more so alive because she was there and smelling so lovely! you needn’t have any other hallmark with scent to conjure any of the multitude of emotions that scent can excite! So, Wit, as interesting as a concept in fragrance it may be, it may be superfluous! For when a scent truly makes it’s presence not only known but felt, not only in our subconcious but as well in our hearts and souls, then you realize that the genius of what these masters produce that we call Parfumiers is more about the makeup of our memories and the DNA of our entire life stories! So, as much as it pains me at times to think of My Sister and her flurry of fragrances that remind me of her, Jean Paul Gaultier Classique, Chanel Gardenia, Dior Fahrenheit, Narciso, I still would never, EVER want to not have those emotions connected to those scents, because sometimes smelling them may bring me to my knees in tears, that means only that they truly meant something, that they DO Mean something, and that is far more resonant than anything Wit could ever provide!
Thank you for all the heart felt emotion! I agree with you wholeheartedly. My question is this: what is it about those fragrances that makes them so beautiful? I’d bet it’s the whiff of wit somewhere in them–the bit that surprises, maybe makes you smile, that makes you sit up and pay attention, yet feels startlingly natural.
“Fragrance is the ultimate intangible frisson…”
I love that phrase. Thank you.
Hey, Angela, earlier you posed a really interesting question: what is the relationship between wit and taste? Or taste and style?
I just wanted to add a little comment about Coco Chanel. I don’t know too, too much about her personality, but what I do know (heavily influenced by two hours’ worth of pure captivation by Audrey Tatou in Coco Before Chanel) makes me think that her wit was largely without relaxed, warm-hearted good humour.
And it occurs to me that Chanel’s fragrances are the same. Yes, they are undoubtedly tasteful – and undoubtedly stylish – but I don’t know if I’d call them exactly “witty,” y’know?
Mark Twain had it right. “Wit is the sudden marriage of ideas which before their union were not perceived to have any relation.” Chanel’s fragrances don’t have that element of the unexpected. I love them, of course; they’re the height of taste and style, but witty they’re not. What they are, Lord love ’em, is the marriage of ideas which previously had enormous relation. 😉
It’s funny you bring up the Chanels, because I’m wearing Bois des Iles today and had the same thought. I bet when Nos. 5 and 22 came out they were witty, because they were so unexpected.
Yes, those are good examples of wittiness, actually. Smart thinking, Angela. And hmm, maybe even 31 RC is witty, come to think. It’s a chypre that breaks the rules but still feels like a classic.
Now you’ve got me going, maybe No. 5 Eau Premiere has some wit about it. It takes the icon of all iconic scents and removes the aldehydes, the overdose of which made it so ground-breaking in the first place.
My god, woman, nothing gets by that steel trap of a brain of yours. I love it!
Even with a good chunk of cheese, my brain couldn’t catch a mouse, but thank you!
I agree about the Chanels lacking wit.Gabrielle herself maybe had too much to prove to let herself relax. Interestingly tho’, some of the ads have been witty. I’m thinking of those wonderful Coco ads from the 80s. But I think those No 5 ads with the oversize bottles had wit too. For a while – it was maybe a bit overdone.
I think the simple, boy-gamine look she created was witty (although not funny at all), but by now it’s so Chanel in capital letters that it doesn’t surprise.
I like the big bottle ads, too!
I totally Agree with Angela! Chanel No. 5 in it’s ORIGINAL incarnation must have been so dangerous to the fashionable notions at the time, that only someone with an absolutely CRUEL Sense of Wit, and Yes, Wit can definitely be Cruel, but that’s part of it’s charm as well… could have produced something so, Outlandish! The Guerlains who had been producing equally complex scents up to the point before and after Chanel were Witty, but in a polite Charming kind of way, Coco Was Not Polite! and her fragrances are ABSOLUTE UNEQUIVICAL MASTERPIECES Simply because of that! No. 22 i am sure with it’s almost SEXUAL Explosion of White Flowers and The Original Formulas Musk and Amber notes must have been absolutely SHOCKING! But, Again, That’s Wit! And I think as Angela has written so eloquently, it is that Pirouette of the unexpected that is at the heart of wit!
“Pirouette” of wit is such a great way to describe it!
I’ve always gotten a kick out of the title “Wine Spectator.” Wine is not something that’s particularly interesting to watch. Why didn’t they call it “Wine Imbiber” or “Wine Taster” or even “Wine Enthusiast?” Does it have this goofy title on purpose, or was its humor unintentional? It conjures up a bunch of snooty wine snob staring down their noses at a lonely little glass of wine sititngin the middle of a football field, waiting for it to do something, anything…
(By the way, I love wine and I know that people who enjoy it don’t really look like that.)
“sitting in,” I meant.
That’s so funny! I never thought of that before.
Angela, what a wonderful post..I love TC because I get the campor, gasoline with tubereuse…its amazing and I also love Mandarine Mandarin because I just love the my orange candy with my cucumberish note..it all just makes me laugh!! And Dzing!..well, when I smell the elephants with the cotton candy and flowers…it’s just all fun which happens to smell spectacular…..
I completely agree with Robin R. about Chanel…I own several Chanels, Biege, Sycomore, etc and while they are utterly beautiful, smell like money and are stylish…they are certainly not witty and definitely not relaxed..Coco Before Chanel was a fastinating movie. I think the sister Gabrielle was the warm, witty sister (at least according to the movie)
I’m glad you enjoyed the post! I love many of the classic Chanels, too, and Coco and most of the Exclusifs. But I think it’s the masculines, Egoiste in particular, that strike me as the wittiest.
Hear, hear, about Egoiste. I had a “moment” with it a couple of nights ago and it was all about what clever juxtapositions it contained and it struck me as truly beautiful…Thank you for an excellent article, wonderfully thought-provoking.Loved the line “Life is ridiculous and full of possibility and that’s its beauty”.
Wit so often arises from an ability to look at things differently and the beauty of that lies in its ability to remind us (humanity unfortunately has an monumental capacity for mindless and unthinking behaviour) that the possibilities are endless, that all sorts of extraordinary beauty can be created if we only think…and when perfume is truly stimulating it is so often so truly beautiful…a single bottle contains multitudinous moments of beauty that can be unleashed anywhere and anytime. So much of beauty revolves around its ability to remind us just how extraordinary it can be just to be alive.
lilydale’s comments about a meal are spot on- the same happens with wine- great grapes can be transformed into something utterly mediocre. A lost chance for loveliness; it just makes me so cross. So silly and unnecessary. Harumph.
As for taste and style, someone once said that style will always be in fashion (small “f”) while Fashion (big “F”) frequently lacks style.
Maybe part of the appeal is that style requires some thought on the part of the individual, whereas with Fashion the “thinking” has been done for you…
So style opens the door for wit, since Fashion can rarely surprise and tantalize that way–at least not for long.
I totally love this post Angela. It’s witty and I wish I thought about it before. In fact, I’m inspired to think deeply and write again. Bless you!
I’m glad you liked it! I feel like I only scratched the surface, and the topic can stand a lot more thought.
Great, as always, Angela! My five cents’ worth – wit is something that inspires emotion as it reflexts in another wit. Emotion could be described as a “broken” expectation. For example, you know Diorella to be a citrusy fragrance ( a lame description, but), you expect it to be a “citrus,” and then, you smell it, and, -wow! THAT kind of citrus! Who d’ thunk it! How amazing! How clever! It got me there!
Every now and then I find a perfume that imakes me, upon the first sniff , almost talk to it in terms of,”oh, that’s what you want to say, how interesting!” ,my most recent conversation has been with a bottle of Enlevement Au Serail by MDCI, and we are not finished yet.
That’s an interesting thought! I suppose the broken expectation is the delicious surprise that makes wit work.
Enjoy the Enlevement au Serail!
Thanks for this, Angela.
Back in the mid-late 90’s, while waiting for my flight at EWR, I came across the launching issue of a magazine titled “WIT.” In it was a collection of writing by authors such as Noel Coward and Dorothy Parker. I read it cover to cover and several times over. Not sure how long the circulation lasted, but I had a feeling the audience appeal was not very broad.
Not many people talk about wit these days, so I really appreciate your piece and the tie-in to fragrances!
How interesting! A whole magazine devoted to wit. I’d love to know how they defined wit–if it was just cleverness or more. I’ll have to see if Wit lived long enough to warrant back issues at my library.
The Mark Twain quote applies to perfume compostions really well, I think. Another enjoyable take on perfume!
I feel like the Mark Twain quote really summarizes what I was trying to get at. Wit isn’t easy (for me, at least) to define.
i think you defined it Superiorly! 🙂 i think your treatise was delightful and insightful in the utmost! 🙂 i do love this blog and love the things i read here with such relish! 🙂 I visit this site EVERYDAY! I i wish I personally could contribute, which i have said many times before (LOL!) so sometimes when i can, like with your inspiring account that we are here currently commenting on, i myself was inspired to respond more prolixly than most times i write! So, Thank You! and i am very happy you found my words inspiring, for as you can see at the length of my original comment, I found yours Equally as Such! 🙂
P.S My Mothers most FAVE scent in her EXTENSIVE Fragrance Wardrobe (over 60 scents) is Chanel No. 22!
Thank you! That’s so nice of you to say. It’s always rewarding to read such thoughtful, heartfelt comments as yours, so I hope you continue commenting
No. 22 truly is a magical scent.
I finally registered on this site just so that I could say that I love this piece – and your writing in general. You always make me think about perfume in a different way – thank you for a really enjoyable read 🙂
Welcome, and now that you’re registered, I hope you’ll chime in often! I’m glad these posts are thought provoking. Every week I go through the same “what should I write this time?” moment.
Good writers, like you for instance, express feelings that are universal but that people don’t manage or don’t think to word. So when one reads, one exclames: wow, this is exactly how i feel, how did you know?
This is how I choose my perfumes – they have to strike me some how. This wit can also be named the wow factor. I have problems in the shops, when I am asked: What are you looking for? Fresh, sweet, oriental… no, I say, something hmmm…
Many upper end perfumes are beautiful, or expensive, but not witty! Creed, Anick Goutal, Amouage. And the wit can be found in a humble Naf Naf or a cheap drugstore EdC.
Last time on going to a picnick I was wearing Chanel no. 5, as a fresh sport frag. After not guessing why I smelled so good my friend cried: noooo, you are not wearing the old no 5!
You bring up a good point–a fragrance that might otherwise seem stodgy can feel witty on the right person in the right situation!
Here’s some wit for you: In October 2006, I attended a perfume exhibit at FIDM in downtown Los Angeles, hosted by the Fragrance Foundation’s Annette Green, doyenne of all of us perfumistas. Of course, she was perfectly coiffed and dressed in that grand-dame, old school style that many of us of a certain age remember our mothers or grandmothers exuding.
Anyway, when I asked her what fragrance she was wearing that evening, she surprised me with her response: “Dior Addict! I love it!”
Who’d of “thunk” it!?
Hugs!
I love it! That’s a wonderful story about perfume used in a witty way.