Doctorsdyery

is the title of a drama by Louis Malle from 1992.

The wonderful Juliette Binoche and the grandiose Jeremy Irons play the leading roles in this piece of film history of a special kind.
Dr. Fleming is a politician. Great house, great job, great wife, two great kids.
Then he meets Anna and it abruptly by, with the previously so sure believed, decent life.

The two begin an affair that knows no boundaries, consumes them, devours them.

The fatal thing is, Anna is his son's girlfriend.

An affair like this never ends well, you know it and yet you want to be sucked into the vortex that pulls you deep with all your might.

So Black Orchid is for me.

Like the desire to have and feel something, regardless of the consequences.

Just live, just give in, leave the fear behind, the lust, the greed give their place..
It's about passion, pain, possession, about all the unspoken, the secretly missing, about physicality, closeness and distance.

Fast sex in a Parisian backyard, perhaps with your face pressed against a cold wall is better than anything you could imagine at that moment.

Anna wants to be owned and Dr. Fleming wants to own her.
Not just a little.
But all of the time.
Now, not later, not in a clean, airy bed, no here! In a stuffy gate entrance, at 7: in the morning

Not just feeling, but sucking up the elixir of the other, possessing his soul.

Dr. Fleming can't resist, won't resist.

The drama comes to a dark end and his wife only says to him at the end. "Why didn't you just kill yourself?"

Yeah, why didn't he?
Because we're human. Evil and good, cold and soft, old and young, beautiful and ugly.

And because sometimes we have to lose control to live life again.

Black Orchid's pushing me off a little bit at first sniff.
What? This is supposed to be great Tom Ford?
I smell old church, muff, basement with dried flowers and inevitably twitch a bit back.

I'm already thinking about activating the emergency shower, but then...yes, then I suddenly have a different suspicion.
It is still powerful, but also tender and comfortable, as if it wants to protect me and at the same time brings me into a strange, dark world.

I feel almost intoxicated at some point, powerless.

That's not really your direction, I think.
And maybe that's why I'm so attracted to him.
He brings out the dark, the hidden. I carry it inside me.

Do I want to follow the vortex that inevitably pulls you down? Forgive my soul? Powerless?

I don't know,

I haven't brought Black Orchid into my house yet. But you never know....

A hint of black lace flashes out under the blazer with shoulder pads. She wears a pantsuit, has her bob tamed with gel and put on red lipstick.

During the day she holds the strings in her hand. Women can be anything. Chief physician, head of a corporation, artist. Men are no longer above things and women.

It's the early eighties.

She determines what she wears, who she is, what she can do and who she sleeps with.
She dresses casually and at the same time elegantly and stylishly. In the evening she quickly swaps the cashmere turtleneck she wears at work for a blazer with shoulder pads. And some earclips. Gold, plain, noble.

She runs off, in pumps towards the taxi.
When she arrives at the café, she orders a glass of wine and lights a cigarette. It seems a bit unapproachable, beautiful and cool at the same time.
So completely different. yes completely different than many women today.
She doesn't think about breast enlargement or eyebrow tattoos.
She is who she is and that makes her irresistible.

Your date arrives and is perplexed again. This woman is driving him crazy. She smiles, a bit timid and challenging at the same time.

She wears the trouser suit, a touch of black lace and Rive Gauche and nothing else.
The evening can begin. Where it ends, it will also determine...

That's how I picture her. The one Rive Gauche was wearing at the time.

And secretly, I wish I could have lived through that time. If there was a time machine, I would dare a small excursion into this tempting time.

And what should women have worn back then, if not Rive Gauche?

A classic that I still find very wearable today. Metallic at the beginning and at the end so wonderfully powdery, without sticking at all, yet very soft and protective. Timeless. Wonderful.
The bottle? You couldn't have done better for this fragrance.

So very different from all the others.

I guess you'll have to move in with me. Maybe even a blazer with shoulder pads... D

Right now I would have a great desire to resurrect the woman of that time and to exchange her for a uniform mush, a beauty frenzy and an influencer. It would be time again...

My first comment, cut me some slack. ;)