Bitter Pills
A few folks I know got great press by way of a San Francisco Chronicle interview of Laurie Stern, creatrix of 'Velvet and Sweet Pea's Purrfumery'. As it is an article primarily about Bay Area natural botanical perfumers, a few important people were left out (no, I'm not talking about me!) Just as a few noms de guerre were inserted, both of the Bay Area and non-Bay Area variety.
*choke*
I read something yesterday that kind of bothered me. I found a book of names and what they mean, and the types of personalities associated with those names. I found mine and it aptly described some of my character traits, but so did a few of the other name descriptions that aren't mine. What bothered me was the characterization that people bearing my name (actually, it was a consonant compilation) usually never make it to the top of business, opting instead to go the small business route. I'm not sure why this bothers me so much. I do own a small business ~ two, in fact. And I'm not greatly successful ~ some might even say my businesses are quite stagnant. I'm comfortable with that right now because it's part of the build-up process, y'know, getting one's ducks in a row sort of thing. But that, too, is a character trait -- a negative trait -- of those who possess my particular consonants. Procrastination, I believe, was injected into this characterization.
*Sigh*
So I choose to look at this objectively, now that it bugs so much, and call it all a pile of bullshit. Here I go -- It's a pile of bullshit!
By the way, the author of the book I chose to purchase bears my consonants.
About that perfume, dahling ~
I sent off a few packages to a couple of people who possess noses ~ just your average run-of-the-mill nose, not the nose nose types. Y'know, Jane Q. Public. Both chose a perfume I'd just about given up on as their favorite. One Jane Nose characterized the scent as 'sexy', and said that it drove her man wild. The other Jane Nose (who is really a nose nose in training) branded it 'sellable'.
I had to re-evaluate why I thought this particular perfume was a loser. Well, because I cheated when I blended it, that's why. I discounted it at the bench, before I ever really had the chance to let it culture out. I used an amber blend as one of the base notes, something that a few suppliers carry. They're very different from one another as there is no single formula for 'amber'. The amber I chose for this perfume has spicy notes ~ some clove and cinnamon, with all the typical vanilla, benzoin, labdanum notes one associates with the product. I've grown quite tired of this particular amber. A third Jane Nose claimed the perfume had my 'touch'. I take this to mean I put the same old boring hoo-ha in nearly everything I make. Which isn't far off the mark. I used to do this with patchouli ~ ehvahreethang had patchouli in it!
So recently I've begun blending accords, or tones, of a perfume ~ for instance, the green I've been working on could be a perfume on its own, I suppose, if you're multi dimensionally green, shades of green on green ~ a turtle, maybe? A toad? Froggie? It has some floral aspects to it, but it's normal course is bright galbanum green to sweet, musky vetiver green with some pinks, reds, whites and browns flashing every so often along the journey. I'm left wondering how all this will look on an ingredients' label.
I also blended up an accord based upon a character in a book. He smells dark. And dry, like rustling leaves, and warm, like autumn sunlight through a big window. It's a very sensual and comforting accord, but sexy and raw at the same time. Dark. Warm. Very, very big. Oudh played a huge role in this accord; cumin, too. And it's flush with roses. But none of these stand out, none of them scream. Harmonious union. Now what to blend it with?
Ok. I'm done procrastinating.
*choke*
I read something yesterday that kind of bothered me. I found a book of names and what they mean, and the types of personalities associated with those names. I found mine and it aptly described some of my character traits, but so did a few of the other name descriptions that aren't mine. What bothered me was the characterization that people bearing my name (actually, it was a consonant compilation) usually never make it to the top of business, opting instead to go the small business route. I'm not sure why this bothers me so much. I do own a small business ~ two, in fact. And I'm not greatly successful ~ some might even say my businesses are quite stagnant. I'm comfortable with that right now because it's part of the build-up process, y'know, getting one's ducks in a row sort of thing. But that, too, is a character trait -- a negative trait -- of those who possess my particular consonants. Procrastination, I believe, was injected into this characterization.
*Sigh*
So I choose to look at this objectively, now that it bugs so much, and call it all a pile of bullshit. Here I go -- It's a pile of bullshit!
By the way, the author of the book I chose to purchase bears my consonants.
About that perfume, dahling ~
I sent off a few packages to a couple of people who possess noses ~ just your average run-of-the-mill nose, not the nose nose types. Y'know, Jane Q. Public. Both chose a perfume I'd just about given up on as their favorite. One Jane Nose characterized the scent as 'sexy', and said that it drove her man wild. The other Jane Nose (who is really a nose nose in training) branded it 'sellable'.
I had to re-evaluate why I thought this particular perfume was a loser. Well, because I cheated when I blended it, that's why. I discounted it at the bench, before I ever really had the chance to let it culture out. I used an amber blend as one of the base notes, something that a few suppliers carry. They're very different from one another as there is no single formula for 'amber'. The amber I chose for this perfume has spicy notes ~ some clove and cinnamon, with all the typical vanilla, benzoin, labdanum notes one associates with the product. I've grown quite tired of this particular amber. A third Jane Nose claimed the perfume had my 'touch'. I take this to mean I put the same old boring hoo-ha in nearly everything I make. Which isn't far off the mark. I used to do this with patchouli ~ ehvahreethang had patchouli in it!
So recently I've begun blending accords, or tones, of a perfume ~ for instance, the green I've been working on could be a perfume on its own, I suppose, if you're multi dimensionally green, shades of green on green ~ a turtle, maybe? A toad? Froggie? It has some floral aspects to it, but it's normal course is bright galbanum green to sweet, musky vetiver green with some pinks, reds, whites and browns flashing every so often along the journey. I'm left wondering how all this will look on an ingredients' label.
I also blended up an accord based upon a character in a book. He smells dark. And dry, like rustling leaves, and warm, like autumn sunlight through a big window. It's a very sensual and comforting accord, but sexy and raw at the same time. Dark. Warm. Very, very big. Oudh played a huge role in this accord; cumin, too. And it's flush with roses. But none of these stand out, none of them scream. Harmonious union. Now what to blend it with?
Ok. I'm done procrastinating.
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