I have, on a whim, taken to wearing my perfumes again. Much as I’ve been wearing make-up again and forcing my poor ankle to deal with proper shoes, and wearing those nice trousers I bought before I mangled myself. I spent 2013 mostly trying to stay upright and getting trampled by my own life. This year is for getting up to speed again.
So I have started putting my perfume on of a morning. And because I am a creature of habit and I like smelling of green things, I have a solid stick of Lush perfume that gets liberally applied on the extremely childish grounds that it smells like the feeling of Electric Picnic and given I daily deal with people who make me consider setting my own hair on fire, this can only be a helpful thing.
It’s called The Smell Of Weather Turning and is all made of wood smoke and camomile and grass and it is exactly, exactly, the feeling of sitting in the dark in a damp field in Leitrim at the tail end of summer. Possibly because I bought it on my way to said damp field on the August Bank Holiday weekend and wore it for three days straight. It is glorious and I love it dearly, and I have to order it online, which frustrates me, because I am not organised enough for that kind of thing.
So on Sunday I wandered down and bought Flower’s Barrow. Which has similar camomile content, but is much more flowery – geranium and rose and blackcurrant leaves. I don’t like rose on me, normally, but the rose in this has disappeared somewhere and left me with geraniums and camomile and the North Coast cliff path on a sunny weekend.