There’s nothing novel about even the rarest bottle of cologne – not compared to these scented Spanish towelettes.
Combining extracts of Lemon, Bergamot, Geranium and Eucalyptus, swiftly refreshing your personal space with one of these Agua de Colonia packets during your holiday travels would instantly make any dreary layover or traffic jam as spiffy and spruced-up as a Mr. Ripley thriller.
I had intended to share my own Holiday Wish List here, just as many Treasury readers so graciously had done over the past few weeks, but December never ends up large or long enough to fit in all we want to do with it – does it?
But maybe that was for the best.
Because I’d like to take a moment to sweetly (re)state that one of the original intentions of this Treasury was to shift the energy of a materialism-based blog away from what was desired and toward what was treasured. Away from the emptiness of wanting things toward the energy of enjoying things.
It’s not easy to do this. Not easy, especially, for me to do this.
And, arguably, it’s not money that makes the world go round, it’s wanting things that makes the world go round. I like sharing what I want, I like just as much hearing what you want and wanting things leads to creativity and hard work and pleasure and a myriad of non-shallow, non-evil pleasures.
But in this season of riches, in our privileged world in which we troll down glowing screens on thousand dollar machines to cherry-pick from a forest of fashiony blogs all the pretty things we swear we need, I just wanted to remember part of the original purpose behind my Treasury. And to non-naggingly remind myself and my far-off friends to appreciate and value and treasure all we each have – now, already, and inherently. Because there are many in this world who are not so lucky to live in the luxury that we cherry-pickers do.
Okay. So, instead of my Holiday Wish List, over the coming days I’ll post my Gifted List and share what, now that Christmas 2009 has passed, the things I am now lucky enough to actually have! I promise to slowly savor each and every item on this list before I start salivating over anything newer and seemingly shinier.
So here goes.
1. Gravel – A Man’s Cologne
Somewhere down the rabbit hole of blogs this fall, I learned about this singular scent. Created in Germany in 1957 and offered at only one retail location in each city in which it’s available, each bottle is anchored with a seabed of pebbles inside which dissolve slowly over the years, lending the cologne a salty, silty, sailor-like hit.
A scent’s actual…um, scent sometimes has little to do with why I step under its splashy haze. Often times simply its name, and thus the time and era it transports me to is the crux of its intoxication. Other times, like a shimmery sculpture, its the fragrance’s bottle that seduces – demanding to displayed as a dresser-top objet d’art.
With Gravel cologne, its these attractions plus its “sweat ‘n cocktails at a cliffside campfire” scent that set me into a spritzy-fit. Everything about it is just so awesomely outré.
My bottle of Colona Russa from Santa Maria Novella is down to one squirt’s worth. My Prada is still half full but the pumper now refuses to pump. Any my intiguingly musty Monocle spray’s a bit too tenacious for everyday spritzing.
This time of year I like to shake up my numbed sense of scent, and lately my cologne collection is in serious need of a shake up.
This sampler pack of Portland General Store fragrances including Wood, Tabac, Whiskey, Cardamom, and Palo Santo promises strong, studly scents of adventure all fall long.
The languid luxury of the Byredo line of scents has intrigued me for some time now. Earlier this winter I was eagerly awaiting the release of their Fantastic Man scent, created in collaboration with the mischievous magazine. Life got in the way, though – but I’m glad it did, because I’ve changed my mind.
The bottle of Byredo I want most now is the new Bal d’Afrique.
“A warm and romantic vetiver inspired by Paris in the late 20′s and its infatuation with African culture, art, music and dance. A mix of the Parisian avantgardism and African culture shaped a unique and vibrant expression. The intense life, the excess and euphoria is illustrated by Bal d’Afrique’s neroli, African marigold and Moroccan cedarwood.”
Top: Bergamot, Lemon, Neroli, African marigold, Bucchu
Mid: Violet, Jasmin petals, Cyclamen
Base: Black Amber, Musk, Vetiver, Moroccan cedarwood
As the days grow brighter and more blazing, the forbidden sizzle and scandal of Africa by way of Paris seems like the better tonic with which to tickle my sweating skin during the coming summer months.
My beautiful bottle will transform me into the most exotic little Caucasian on my block, I’ve promised myself.
I finally mustered up enough courage for a moustache, then stocked up on short shorts galore. I now appear, half the time, like some ordinary Dad in Detroit during Reagan’s heyday. (Finally!) To fully inhabit the role though, I’m thinking I’ll need to douse my Dad skin in a dull and un-daring drugstore scent.
Tabac Original Cologne turns 50 this year. Right down to its dated, disco-era packaging, it’s just the fiery, faux-riche splash an ol’ Detroit Dad would’ve reached for. I gotta be reaching now too.
A preface to this volume including further information on its founding editor.
Get the latest Treasury additions in your RSS Reader.
