Scents of self

Last night I had the most unexpectedly wonderful night.

The plan had been to meet Stacy for a little shopping and Sunday night movie, but a black cloud started to appear over the night when the traffic congestion to park was agonizingly not moving anywhere for what seemed like forever. I deduced, while shifting my car into park to relieve my aching braking foot, that everyone on L.A.'s west side was trying to get out of the choking smoke and raining ash that had been blocking out the sun for the weekend. Well, I couldn't blame them; it was disgustingly, sneezingly awful. But... Stacy and I made these plans before the whole of Southern California burst into flames, so therefore everyone was invited to get the **** out of my way!

I've lived in L.A. long enough to occasionally be able to read the writing on the wall - or in this case, read the non-moving traffic in a claustrophobic parking ramp. The movie I had been dying to see (an occurrence which only happens about once a year) would be nearing full...for the showing that didn't start for another 3 hours. I could just sense it. And sure enough, at 4:30 the 6:00 showing of Slumdog Millionaire only had 2 seats in the front row open. "Okay," I exhaled, "how about the 7:30 show?" Yes, yes, fine, I'll take those seats in the fourth row.

After finding Stacy in the crowd and breaking the news of the fourth row seating debacle we headed to the Nordstrom's sale and got down to business. My curly-haired friend bagged a spring grass green cashmere sweater for a steal and then wanted to know what it was that would suit my fancy?

First floor. Total indulgence, please.

Shoes and purses turned out to be so picked over that the best looking bag we saw was by Juicy. And I am not a Juicy girl (much like I will never - never! - be a girl who purchases Jessica Simpson products). On the way to the jewelry cases we were meandering through fragrances when something made us stop at a display of ungodly expensive body soufflés. Before I knew it, my nose was in the jar labeled Almond Coconut Milk and Stacy was firmly reminding me that, "the last time I smelled a lotion and made those noises you made me buy it because you said you'd never heard that kind of yummy noise coming from me before. And you know what? Best purchase I ever made. You have to buy that. Hello?! You LOVE coconut!"

Me: "What? When did I do that?"
Her: "Target. The 'lemon cookie' lotion."
Me: "Oh. Yes, I'm very wise. (pause) This is going to be expensive though!"

And then a bubbly sales girl was at the counter and the three of us spent an unknown amount of time yapping, with me and Stacy asking question after question, quickly finding a routine where one asked a question as the other busily stuck their nose into another tub of lotion and then demanded that the other smell it immediately. Before I knew it, I had French Vanilla on my hands, Almond Coconut Milk on my arms and a spritz of the Nuits Enchantées parfum on my wrists - all subtly combining into the most heavenly aroma.

To our credit, we walked out of Nordstrom's for a diet Coke break without making any purchases just yet. Because, really, you never do know how a fragrance will settle. Just a few weeks ago I had spritzed the crook of my arm with something that on first whiff wreaked of shoes. I had been horrified and Sephora stupidly doesn't have a sink or high-powered hose for such situations, so I'd had to live with it. And an hour later, it had sunk down and mellowed out into a lovely warm scent, but who the hell would want to smell like a shoe everyday during the transition period?

But a funny thing happened while sipping diet Cokes the size of our faces... amongst conversations about family birthday parties, apartment arrangements and why some families deem it a good idea to hold a reunion at a mall food court?... we couldn't stop smelling my arms and wrists. (It was a wafting motion with sniffing, basically.) And I thought of all the reasons why right now was actually not a good time to buy myself a present: 25% of my office had been laid off on Friday, I'd just found out last week that my living situation would soon be changing and would likely result in at least some kind of financial repercussion, the holidays were approaching... But like Stacy said, I don't ever have a reaction like that to something - and Friday's lay offs had actually been round number 4 that I had survived, so maybe I deserved a little gift.

Plans were formulated and last sips of diet Coke were sucked down before we were purposefully headed back to Nordstrom's. And there, under the hot spotlights, I asked for the parfum and the gift set of the body soufflés, which Stacy and I later divided: she took the Crème Brulee (which gave her a skin a yummy salty top note and then melted into subtly sweet caramel) and I took the French Vanilla and, of course, the Almond Coconut Milk.

An hour after our purchases I was in the dark of the fourth row, watching an absolutely fabulous movie (go, go now to see Slumdog Millionaire), constantly sticking my wrist into my face for a secret whiff that always resulted in a small self-satisfied smile. Now, THAT is a good purchase.

I've never been one to have a signature scent. In high school and college I had a new perfume every school year and as an adult, I've shifted between lighter and heavier smells with the changing seasons. And recently, I've been insatiable about it. Constantly sniffing every bottle in every store; never committing... never loving.

Until now.

Now - today - I can't stop inhaling the cozy scent that lingers around me. Maybe it has something to do with having such a great time in the purchasing of it and loving the movie that I disappeared into while stealing little sniffs of my wrist... maybe it's those happy associations that make me think that this inviting, slightly sweet, non-artificial, wrap-you-up-in-a-decadent-blanket-and-sunshine-at-the-same-time fragrance is...just...so...me.

Tonight, and ten hours after applying some parfum and French Vanilla soufflé, I pushed open the door with Stacy one step behind me as we defiantly strutted out of the office. "My god, you smell delicious! It's like a waft of lovely trailing behind you!... And at the end of the day, too!"

I'm hoping that it's a sign of things to come; goodbye sadness and stress, hello lovely.