When love is addictive, destroys you - or at least your wallet - and you just don't care.
I need more of that heroin!
As always shortly before departure, I rummage through the shops, much to the chagrin of my friend, and especially through rows and rows of perfumes. It's one of my first flights abroad and we don't have much time left.
Conspicuously enthroned on the other side of the room, brightly lit - or brightly lit - a row of perfumes.
From a distance of x meters I recognize: there is something special there.
These things, which you crush with your fingers, from which it then makes "pfft pfft" and where the perfume comes out, I only knew them from films and had otherwise only seen them in a showcase.
My friend: Can we please go? I don't want to miss the flight!
Me: (sweetest pout ever) BUT! It won't take long. I promise! (rush over to this outfit where you have all kinds of boxes with funny contents: white leather that can be stroked and feels incredibly soft and much more)
I blindly grab one of the bottles, which all look the same anyway, and just spray on it. Over my head, on my scarf and on my wrist. Pretty impractical, that pfft-pfft-thing.
My friend who had come to me to ask me to leave: Holy shit, what the fuck is that?!
I'm already regretting not looking for a test strip: Sorry? But the air here smells soooo delicious :(( I love vanilla!
He: No, that smells great! But now come on, come on, you have dawdled too much again! (pulls me through the store by my arm)
I still try to find a name or a price tag somewhere while walking, in vain.
We didn't miss the flight.
But on the way back we don't come into THIS shop. I'm sulking a little, my friend with me
He: Well, you have enough perfume, but... ...but if I had to name one perfume that smells like you and HOW you smell, it would be the one you wore on the plane. That incredibly sweet stuff that you can't hate because it's so cute and sweet
Yes. I have a little sweet tooth. But he did insult me a little bit with his comment. After all, I am more than just cute and sweet. Whatever.
I'm trying to forget about it
I don't even know his name
A few weeks later...
One of my perfumes (Prada "Candy", the EDT) is empty. After Lacoste's "Pour Femme", finally the second one, so according to my own rule, a new perfume can finally be bought.
So I buy a Dupe to Lacoste "Pour Femme", because I haven't found one to go with the other one and after the holiday there is a yawning emptiness on my account.
It doesn't make me happy. I can't forget that one perfume. I don't want to live without it, I must at least try it again! Maybe I won't be able to smell it after all?
So three weeks later, I'm standing there and I'm making up my mind That one decision that would change everything forever: I'm now going in search of that perfume, that dream of vanilla with that "pfft-pfft-thing".
I spend six hours with it and already have no more desire, in addition hunger and my feet hurt.
I have been to all the drugstores and perfumeries here and I have only seen one perfume with "Pfft-pfft-Dingsbums" and that was nowhere near the sweet lightness that had accompanied me during my flight from Frankfurt (and on my scarf for a few days longer, I literally sucked the scent in with my nose until it was gone).
So I, shy towards strangers, take my heart and ask the very competent and sweet-looking perfume saleswoman.
She can't make sense of my description, but she gives me a hint.
You: If you think it is something special, go to Mrs. [name]! She has very exquisite and niche scents. If you can't find what you're looking for with her, you won't find it anywhere
So I'm going on a search.
Enter this place, hidden in an old building and feel intimidated. This place looks expensive
An elegantly dressed and beautifully made-up woman around 30 welcomes me and would like to help me.
I, gesticulating "the pfft-pfft-thing" and tell her I'm looking for a sweet vanilla scent
She, smiles: Oh, you mean the boutique fragrances from Guerlain with the pump dispensers?
Me, inside: That sounds expensive. Oh oh.
So she leads me into a room and there they are, these beautiful flacons
That's them! Whoo-hoo!
So the lady starts talking and talking, unpacks violet test strips with golden letters, and with the first spray I realize: "Exactly THAT's it! Yes!"
She explains the ingredients to me, shows me other fragrances from this edition, Tonka Impériale for example, which goes in a similar direction, but "it" is not...
My mind is somewhere else
The price of 220€ brings me back down to earth.
No, I'm afraid it doesn't exist in small
I have to think about it
220€ I no longer have on the account.
I'm bent. I'm going home. There's my piggy bank, the money counts. 186€ and a few cents.
Actually, I'm saving up for a bike
I'll wrap the piggy bank in a clutch, wrap it up. No, I'm not gonna do that. I'm gonna change my mind right now. I can't do that!
I go to the bank the next day and want to change the money. There are charges. Nope. I walk by work, ask the boss if he needs change in the till. He changes me 60€.
I go to dm, buy something and ask if it's okay if I give her more money in change and then she gives me back big money. I'm lucky
I go to the perfumery and head straight for the boutique fragrances.
The salesgirl: Blah, blah, blah
Me: Thanks, but I already know that I want to buy this one.
Arrived at the cash desk, I unpack about 100€ in notes and the rest in 1 and 2€ pieces. First the saleswoman has to get the key for the cash register. Usually people pay with credit card.
While I sort the coins into piles of 10 and 20€, I think about running away and not buying the perfume. I am quite embarrassed by all this and I think about my bank balance. Ouch!
But in the end I buy it, this luxury in a bottle - and I feel shabby and bad at the same time and so incredibly intoxicated.
This powdery dream of vanilla is underlaid with floral impressions, but for me it consists mainly of vanilla, vanilla and the very best vanilla ever!
Cuir Beluga is a bit heavy (probably because of the patchouli), a little bit smoky(?), but not musty.
No, this candy needs something to stay on the ground, so that it doesn't stick to anyone's bottom when they eat it, according to a Russian proverb
Cuir Beluga doesn't smell like leather to me, for me angels have to smell like that!
And me. Almost every day now
In the beginning I only wore Cuir Beluga on special occasions
But now I wear it almost daily, because every day can be a special day - and I celebrate love with it.
The love of life, vanilla and myself!