Day Number 6 following the instructions in "Manifesting Your Soul Mate":
The book tells me I should be acting as though I expect this soul mate to arrive at any time. I refuse to get up and peep out the peephole in my door, but I could spruce myself up a little, true. The apartment heating system had been fixed; I could dispense with the layers of flannel I’d been bundling myself up in, which even I could admit was not the most attractive way to dress for a night in the boudoir. I started thinking about perfume. While searching for other tools I was asked to use (more on that later), I ran across a link to a perfume stirred up in a “moonstone vat”. Curious, I clicked on the link:
A fragrance as true as a moonbeam...
Hanae Mori introduced the complex Magical Moon by Hanae Mori fragrance in 2006. Conceived by master perfumers under a full moon in a garden of night-blooming flowers, its rich buds and blooms are harvested according to an ancient lunar calendar, blended in vats lined with blue moonstone and bottled under a full moon. The scent is housed in an enchanting blue bottle designed by Pochet Glassworks and adorned by flecks of blue moonstone.
Ideal for women who want an exotic, rich, and vibrant floral perfume that embodies mystery, romance, and beauty.
Top notes of Osmanthus Flower, Porcelain Rose, and Sugar Cane are sweet and feminine. Heart notes of Vanilla, White Musk, and Patchouli are deep and warm. Base notes of Star Fruit, Orange Flower, and Pink Berries finish with a touch and tang of citrus.
Well! That sounded like me! I wanted mystery! I wanted romance! I wanted beauty! With a description like that, who could possibly resist? Certainly not moi or … whatzizname … the soon-to-be-arriving love of my life, who – I was certain – would inhale dreamily, sweep me into his arms and spout spontaneous romantic sonnets about true love and moonlight and osmanthus flowers … whatever those smelled like, I had no idea myself. And I wasn’t sure what “white musk” smelled like, either … I just had this vaguely held notion that “musk” scents made men start pawing the ground, snort passion-induced steam out their noses and charge like wild bulls. Or maybe that was a wild bull moose? Wild bull hedgehog? Well, charge like some animal that didn’t do well as a household pet, anyway. Ordered it, and received it yesterday, along with the package insert that comes with it.
On the insert, I read the ingredients, which made the concoction sound more like it was conceived by diabolical master perfumers who were instead rather pissed off at Hanae Mori and potential customers for their being forced to work out of doors, stubbing their toes while tripping over tree roots in the dark, harvesting and bottling under a full moon:
Alcohol Denat, Parfum, Hydroxyisohezyl 3-Cyclohexene, Carboxaldehyde, Aqua, Ethyl Hexyl Methoxycinnamate, Butyl Methoxydibenzoyl Methane, Ethyl Hexyl Salicylate, Linalool, Citronellol, Geraniol, Butylphenyl Methylpropional, Alpha-Isomethyl Ionone, Benzyl Salicylate, Eugenol, Limonene, Amyl Cinnamal, Citral.
Aqua – water – seemed rather harmless, but methane? And isn’t Citronellol used to kill mosquitoes? What ARE all these chemicals? O-kay …. possibly this chemical line-up is normal for perfumes, I don’t know – I don’t use it all that often, but am slowly changing my ways. I did love the last line, though:
Inflammable! Keep from heat or flame!!
Hey! Exactly which “ancient lunar calendar” were they using, anyway? Did it have under-worldly symbols - like pitchforks - printed on it or something? But I suppose I ought to be thanking them for the warning. Er … gee, thanks. Stay clear of burning bushes. Gotcha. Useful to know.
Well, now that I had it and wasn’t near any open flame that could have set me off like a human torch (not a good way to start any relationship), I sprayed it gingerly on myself … let it dry, sniffed it. Read other reviews by women who were raving and spouting incomprehensible babble about low notes and high notes and floral notes and woodsy notes and fruity notes and bass notes and soprano notes and made it sound like something Debussy cooked up in his mental cauldron, possibly also under the influence of a full moon - and a large bottle of absinthe… like maybe an early – and discarded – version of Clare de Lune or something.
After all that, I now felt knowledgeable enough to submit my own sophisticated review of this fragrance. “Hmm. Smells good.”
Am guessing after that careful analysis, I will not be receiving serious job offers from the fragrance industry as an analyst any time soon. Now, as long as I can keep Whatzizname from showing up with a flamethrower, I’ll be fine. Soul mate Requirement #5: must NOT be a pyromaniac. And must react extremely passionately to osmanthus flowers … and musk.
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