hortus conclusus

I have been thinking about the fact that for most people, drying hair and clothing is one of the most intimate fragrance experiences they have in any given week. Looking at this painting by John Sloan, I can almost imagine all the different smells—the soapy clean musk of the laundry, the animalic smell of human hair, the perfume from the shampoo, the smell of sweat, the hot asphalt, the myriad city smells of exhaust, heat, sewer, food, etc. The act of drying one’s hair is such a special, human thing, such an affirmation of femininity… Consider the beautiful image of women throwing their hair up to dry it in Robert Frost’s “Birches”: When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy's been swinging them. But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay. Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon themselves As the breeze rises, and turn many...

First, a reminder to enter for a chance to win my Tauer perfume giveaway here as you dear readers may know, I am an old fan of the great English domestic novel , but I have noticed a disturbing phenomenon; as I grow older, I begin identifying less with the sweet young 15 year old heroines, and more with their mothers and aunts with all their peccadilloes of character and odd obsessions. Do they ever grow tired of watching, aiding, and abetting the young females as they perform their elaborate mating dances, flirting and giggling till the wee hours of the morning at country dances while they, the older women, gossip and play cards? Do they ever tire of living vicariously through them, when their blood is pulsing just as quickly—or even more so--through their own veins? Do they  ever wish their stolid, unimaginative, dependable husbands would shape up and be more attentive? As they sit in their boudoir among their pots of cream and scent, do they fantasize about a new romanc...

As I have been thinking about posts related to roses in honor of my rose decant giveaway (to enter, click here ) I have been brainstorming about folklore and legend, various fragrances, and food, but it never occurred to me until last night that something I use every day is a rosy experience bar none. I use Weleda’s Wild rose oil , a mixture of ‘good’ (non-mineral) oils and rose oils and fragrance. It smells like roses, is made of  roses, and does wonders for my skin. I use it, and its lavender counterpart, to layer fragrances—the rose oil for floral scents, and the lavender for fougeres and the like. They keep the fragrance on my skin longer, I think (I have VERY dry skin that holds fragrance for about a millisecond) and amplify the qualities of the scent in a very delicate way for a few hours, although the natural essential oils in Weleda products burn off pretty quickly, letting the fragrance shine alone.  All in all, it is one of my more effective strategies for prolo...