Image: SATC screenshot.
The stress that comes with planning a wedding manifests itself in strange ways.
For some it’s giving in to their inner bridezilla and going the full bananas, but for me it was dedicating way too much time to choosing a “wedding perfume.”
I know, I know. I’m fully aware of how ridiculous that sounds.
My olfactory theory was that every time I smelt that scent after the ‘big day’, I’d be transported back to that one hugely important and magical time.
For this to come true I couldn’t wear a fragrance I already owned. All those were muddied with drunken nights out, jobs I hated, or reminded me of friends who also wore them, therefore never fully felt like mine.
My fragrance history has been sporadic at best. There was Calvin Klein’s Obsession that I wore as a teenager– a horribly, intensely musky situation that no one under the age of 50 should attempt.
I replaced that with CK’s unisex Be fragrance, as did every other girl and boy alive until the end of the 90s. Next came Giorgio Beverly Hills EDP that a boyfriend bought for me. I wore it non-stop until he confessed he bought it because his mother also wore it. It was an instant deal-breaker.
After that came Issey Miyake’s iconic bottle of L’eau d’Issey, which was bought for me by someone I really, really liked. Stupidly I didn’t want to waste it, so it sat prettily on my dresser until it went off…
Next up was a desperate attempt to make a bad relationship work: matching his and hers fragrances in the form of Giorgio Armani’s Lei/Elle and Lui /He. The ‘innie’ and ‘outie’ bottles matched up perfectly. Needless to say it didn’t work out.
I doused myself in Dolce and Gabbana’s The One when I backpacked around Europe in my late twenties. The potent and sweet concoction doesn’t just sidle up to a loved one, but punches them right in the face. Its smell was also synonymous with cocktail jugs, free bar t-shirts and massive hangovers. So that was out.