What do you smell like today?



My perfume is sunbathing beside an apple that once was.


Perfumes remind me of different stages of my life.

Exclamation! was the bridge between cheap deodorant to my first real bottle of Lulu that I could afford.

My best friend at school wore Obsession and I wished quietly for my very own, even though I didn't like it so much.

I felt like a real grown up lady during my Clinique phase and Kenzo Jungle told people I'd arrived in a room and left a little while ago.

For now I've settled on Caruthsia and really nothing else will do - except something made by Tesco that I loved and they discontinued. (sad face)

Out of the range, I was introduced to Ligea.  The scent carries a great story.  It's not mass produced or created by some famous person's people.

It's hand-made on the Isle of Capri.  They tell me it's the littlest perfume lab in the world and I believe them.

The ingredients are picked from a monastry garden.  I'm not a religious person, but I like the fact that the seeds of my scent have been nourished by the Italian sun and harmonious prayer.

They still use the same method the monks did hundreds of years ago. 

I warn you.  The first sprays are potent. 

I always cough out loud - which is gross and have to apologise in advance to people around me for the strength of the smell, the ooomph that hits the back of your throat and forces you to stop breathing.

Then it settles and one smells of gentle talcum powder.  Fresh, breezy, clean and distinctive.  It lasts forever.

The £50 for 50ml is a fair price to pay, but I always opt for £60 for 100ml - cause I always like a bargain.

It's the gentler version of  Guerlain's Shalimar  -  a delicious youthful smell  is revealed  only once the initial old musky tones fades away.

When I was 24, I had just moved to London and there was this very grand fashionable lady called Anna. She was an Account Director in ad agency I worked in.  I loved how she glided into a room - stong, beautiful and self assured.  She wore black against pale skin. Her bright designer jewelry wrapped round her kneck and wrists.  They sort of knocked your eyes out ever time you saw her. But it was her smell that I wanted to emulate. 

I thought when I'm older, when I can call myself a lady, I too will smell like you.  She told me her secret smell and I forgot it, then I remembered Shalimar. 

Now I've found my alternative it's always lovely to hear someone say I like your perfume and for some reason it's even lovelier to say it was made by monks.

a bit of colourful metal can make a little difference

Have you read the Hunger Games books by Suzanne Collins? Amazing. 

If you have then you will know about the Mockingjay - the black bird emblem that becomes a symbol of hope to District 13.  Slightly obsessed by the trilogy I got me my own symbol when I found this glaring out at me at the vintage Market at South Tyneside Station in Newcastle.    

I do miss my Sunday morning treat.  Sitting in the front seat of the metro, leaving behind the city and staring ahead waiting too see the sea.  

Meandering past stalls, catching a glimpse of something a little bit precious, strolling slowly down to the beach with friends (it's a Sunday, you ain't meant to rush on a Sunday) and hoping the seagulls don't poop on my head.

This is my ex wonderful flatemate Lingi.  We sat round the kitchen table for hours.  She'd do her work on the computer and I'd sit on her bed and chat her ears off and she would listen and we would laugh, then we would cook a buffet and eat and talk some more and do it all again the next day. 

The circular pendant with real dried bright blue and pink flowers is presently my broach of the moment.  It was a happy little £3.50 find at the market.   I think it's beautiful.

I permanently borrowed the flower bouquet from my mother's drawer - so that came for free.  Did I tell you I love free things?

The few broaches that I have give my plain high street dresses a dash of vintage.  I pull the neck down, give myself a little cleavage and pin the things in the right place to keep it all together.  I've got a dress that shows my bosoms way too much, so I do the opposite and pull it high on round my neck, pin the dress and them I'm happy and it still all looks aye ok.

A necklace and a broach.  My mum used to go to an OAP market every Friday.  She took me one day and I treated myself.

Sometimes they find a place on my winter beanies.  It's my easy way of making things feel a little bit different to everything else.

People can spend a lot on broaches,  but I can't because I know I will one day look down and it will be gone.

I'm more emotionally attached to things (is that bad or good? - who knows, who cares).  Most things I have has a little reason for being there.  I was with so and so at the time - or this or that happened and that's why I have it now.

I know if I lost my golden Mockingjay or the cheap yet beautiful flower circle or my mum's broken bouquet, I'd spend way too much time for the rest of my whole life thinking about them all. 

So I must admit, sometimes I just keep them in a box or pin them on my wall and when I remember  to notice them, I think my don't you look pretty today?

New day. New scarf

Here where I live, I'm waiting for the cold to come.  I am going to make sure I'm warm when the ice forms on the ground and every breath I take creates a little white cloud.

I've opted-out of getting a new winter coat this year because I've decided I'm searching for something at the moment that doesn't exist.

Every morning I wake up and the sun insists on shinning.  I'm not complaining.  The beautiful days make me want to step outside the one street I know well and explore.  

My new housemate and I went to the New Forest today.  He took his new fancy film camera, so I thought I'd take my new scarf.

We met some wild horses and I think this one thought my scarf was aye ok too.  I call the colour holiday blue door because I think it's like the vibrant shades I've seen in seaside villages in Morocco. White washed houses with my perfect holiday blue doors.

I can't wish I was there, because being here today was wonderful.  Wide open spaces.  No buildings in the distance, just sky at the end of the horizon.  I also met Terence.  My own Beast of the Southern Wild.

I'm looking for a hat to match my new purchase. I'm thinking navy or tangy yellow and then I'll find a little broach with a hint of blue in it, then everything will be just perfect.

I'll be ready when the cold days come.