When I was in my late teens, (what seems many moons ago – but I won’t say exactly how many), I used to wear Coco Mademoiselle: A heady chypre fragrance not for the faint of heart. I mean, it’s called ‘Mademoiselle’ for a reason. The bottle and elegant label alone inveigle a lady sitting at her dressing table, slightly careening her head to the left as she bares her neck and clavicle to a dose of the heady fragrance which tenuously settles upon her exposed skin and satin dressing gown. Perhaps this dream, decades away from my young self, was the reason I lusted after it. It, or rather, the idea of it, was more grown up than I was. I was assuming the woman I might become. Though perhaps I was premature to my own self via scent. The subtleties of fragrance of persona were lost on me, but made obvious by comments of friends who would wonder aloud whose grandma I’d stolen my perfume from. I chose not to care as I sat in a room clouded with Calgon. What did I mind? I felt, daring, opulent, extravagant.
To start one fragrance story with another is peculiar, but scents and moments are related by their commonalities. Fresh, ocean, water, laundry, bright. These are the adjectives of scents that dominated the ’90s. It’s like saying Exclamation to someone whose yearbook date falls in the ’80s. Heady, strong, and smoky, could define the butter-laden, cigarette smoke-heavy decades before I was born, and if you care to reminisce to recent times, perhaps cupcake, candy, sweet and sugar (now read as sickly sweet) would encapsulate the celeb fragrances of a quasi-decade ago.
Vered reminds me of who I once felt I was, but was not yet old enough to bravely be. Lured in by the hint of patchouli, the vanilla and rose absolute; a potent mix of strength and vulnerability, it’s a fragrance I can wear now – it feels comfortable and exquisite. It’s the essence of my 30′s (there, I’ve gone and given away my age), but what do I care? I’m free to wear whatever, to be myself, and now in reality, I am sitting at my vanity (or running out the door) dousing myself in a natural scent that doesn’t belie my age.
I’ll also be stowing away the perfect, tiny bottle in my clutch for touchups when working late, for jet-setting (or transit-setting) across town – or the world. Freshening up may regularly be a touch of lipstick and powder, but a dab of power via essence from a tiny bottle can transport me from one persona (beauty editor gal) to another (luxe lady out on the town). It’s a no-holds barred fragrance. Are you ready?
Vered Signature Scent is available at Clementine Fields.
This story also appeared on The Luxe Life by AVL.