SHAZAM!
Just as well then that my festive review is for that most magical of scents: Shazam from 4160 Tuesdays, and the ever talented Sarah McCartney is our Fairy Godmother.
Its a piquant scent; as sharp and bracing as the orange at the foot of your stocking and as warm and resinous as the heavily ladenChristmas tree in your sitting room. It's the festive season in a bottle and it opens with a merry little sliver of pantomime sparkle.
Yes, there's a glitter of tangerine and a firework smokiness of basil as the curtains pull back. If you stubbornly still refuse to believe in fairy's you soon will. See, here they come dancing across the stage, luminous pastel shades like candied fruit and sugar almonds. Fairyland is enough to make your mouth water! An inner glow is taking hold, helped by that sharp nip of juniper berries that heralds after theater drinks for the grown-ups. A welcome splash of gin and tonic, like fire caught in a glass, loosening us up, bringing forth laughter. It's not quite Christmas yet though, more like the night before the night before Christmas, but the merriness has already begun.
Just as well, those cocktails haven't made us too bleary eyed (no hangovers from perfume cocktails, think of that) because we're whirling closer and closer to the big day. The tree is up and shedding it's needles sharp and ancient over the middle notes. A Christmas Carol breaking through, notes high and warm; I'm sure I hear "Oh, Christmas Tree", not the most traditional of carols but how fitting it is. And, there's a chorus of spice answering back from the kitchen. Breath in deeply and you will smell all that pepper and cardamon, even a few lingering traces of basil. There's a feast brewing up! Scents and steam rise with the choristers voices from the radio. Those voices which bring with them a suggestion of incense curling round gilded candlesticks from which wax drips and the vast stone depths of churches harbouring a little of the damp of centuries. There will be more of this to come as the darkness closes in outside and the lights come on; fairy lights in every colour imaginable and candles glowing with golden flames. Time spirals out and in, we are tugged back and forth by the time worn movies on T.V and the deeper, sung, memory of another town, lying still and dreamless on another night. You are lost in memory and reflection, until Glenda appears to wave her magic wand and Dorothy clicks her ruby slippers and before you know it, it's midnight on Christmas Eve!You have slipped into that liminal space between mundane and miracle. Out on the tiles, the neighbourhood cats turn to each other and chat though you remain cheerfully oblivious to their gossip. Too busy venturing out of burrowing into your nice warm house for now is the hour of Midnight Mass, and whilst you may not celebrate there is something alluring about the sounds, the scents and the ritual. Inside, as the incense threads of amber and patchouli spiral in your mind they are greeted by the sweet scent of cocoa brewing on your stove top. It's as luxurious as a present and as sweet as a sugar plum. Not unlike the sugar plum fairy's which will soon be dancing in your head as you lie yourself down for a long winters sleep (all credit to Clement Moore). Tomorrow there will be stockings full of parcels and plum pudding, but tonight there are fairy tales to dream.
Perfume Notes:
Top
Basil, Tangerine, Juniper Berry
Middle
Atlas Cedar, Pink Pepper, Cardamon, Olibanum
Base
Amber, Patchouli, Cacao.
This post is dedicated to Robert Herrmann, a wonderful friend, who was always so kind about my blog posts.
This post is dedicated to Robert Herrmann, a wonderful friend, who was always so kind about my blog posts.
