I wore my grandmother’s astrakhan coat – 1970s, real lambswool cuffs and collar — to buy my first bottle of perfume. Wearing it, I took the subway downtown in Manhattan, and walked into the Chanel flagship store like I was the sort of woman who belonged there. I was 26 and trying to imagine myself into an adulthood sophistication sufficient not only for going into a Chanel boutique, but for approaching the perfume desk in the back and asking for 100 ml. of Cuir de Russie.
— Read more at I Didn’t Understand Perfume Until I Fell in Love at The Cut.
What a lovely piece! I will look for her fiction title in March.
Yes, I love her voice in the eay she wtites!
Wow, this piece is really beautifully written. I’m in my late 20s and the figuring-out-what-kind-of-woman-I-want-to-be bits are so relatable.
Gorgeous piece of writing! I identify myself with the last statement: “I’m still not very good at being a person. I still use perfume as a scaffold to hold myself together”.
Me, too! And I’m much beyond my 20s.
Curating your collection to coordinate with your significant other is such a romantic idea to me. Maybe fortunately, mine has a single bottle he rarely wears, so I don’t have to worry about it.
Thanks for sharing this, really lovely writing.
Yes, lovely piece for today. ♥️