shalimar sacrilege

All you Shalimar purists out there may want to avoid this post. I mean it, step away NOW! I am doing something to one of the first and best orientals that you may find unconscionable, so if the idea of tampering with the magnificence that is Shalimar makes you break out in hives, stop now before it’s too late. You see, (and this is embarrassing for me to admit this) I have been layering Shalimar with…well, let me start over at the beginning.

You know how I like to buy fragrances while I’m on a trip, so  I can associate the memories of the trip with a fragrance and then use it to recall the memories in greater detail? Well, when I went to the medieval conference in Kalamazoo, I took a little day trip to Ulta to search for a nice oriental to wear to the big dance on Saturday night. Nothing really struck me after a long sniff session, so I bought some banana boat sunscreen and headed back in my car to campus. But I was hungry, and saw a Walgreens, and pulled in, intending to pick up some almonds or something to stave off the pangs. Of course, I had to pop by the fragrance section just to see…. And there was Shalimar, in cologne form, for 35 dollars, dear readers. Of course I bought her. And wore her to the dance.

That’s not the story,  of course.

I noticed that when I put on the banana boat sunscreen with the shalimar, something very interesting happened. The smoky vanilla and spices of Shalimar

lent a deep complexity to the tropicalia (i get coconut, banana, pineapple, and flowers) of Banana Boat. I was intrigued, so of course, I had to take it a few steps further. I layered the Body Shop’s Coconut body butter on the parts of my body untouched by the sun’s rays, and their shimmering coconut lotion over the top of the banana boat, finishing with a few spritzes of Shalimar. I can almost hear you all groaning, saying, “Why the hell would she want to do that to Shalimar?!?) I don’t know. I was compelled.

 

The truth is, I really like what this combo of products does to me in conjunction. It is summer, damn it, or almost, and I want to smell a little tropical, is that so wrong? I know a lot of perfumistas dislike coconut, but i have no problem with it, actually enjoy it.  But I don’t want to smell like straight pina colada. the shalimar makes me feel darker, more complex than a strait cocktail of tropical smells would, and the shimmer of the lotion makes me feel all glowy. I found some images of me at what I believe to be my glowiest, as an illustration of how the combo makes me feel. I feel smoky, seductive, and not a little exotic. The vanilla and coconut combine to make a creamy, milky smell that is neither, and the smokiness comes out somehow, as if my skin is sending off waves of heat. I love it, dear readers, and nothing you can say will make me feel bad about it. Ok, maybe I feel guilty already, since I have spent so much time on this post defending my experiment. Ah well, know thyself, right?

But the experiment served its primary purpose. From now on, whenever I put on Shalimar and coconut, I will think of my lovely post-conference visit with my brother and sister-in-law in Detroit—all the good conversation, laughter, and food, going to the zoo, shopping, chatting. These will forever be recalled to me like old friends. All I need to do is slide into some lotion and spray on a bit of Guerlain. 

Anyway, I’d love to hear your reactions to my sacrilegious tampering with the somewhat opposed ideas of the tropics a la Brazilian beach and the Indian memorial garden Orientalist fantasy that is Shalimar. Am I so wrong?

 This has nothing to do with the post, but clearly my cat Oliver wanted to be photographed  and blogged when I was taking my pics of the shalimar combo—he’s so obviously posing for the camera, right near the products.

all pics mine today.

 

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