Essence - A Lifetime's Fragrance

There is a perfume that I used to call ‘The Essence of Me’. Of course, it has a real name, Dioressence by Christian Dior. I can’t remember my first introduction to it, but it was possibly in a batch of perfume sample phials my father brought back from a trip to France, late 1970s, early ‘80s. There was another one I really liked but never knew the name. Anyway, I adored Dioressence for its light, subtle fragrance. I don’t like strong perfume that takes over a room or announces an arrival before the wearer is in sight. It was my only fragrance for many years. I had the matching soap and talcum powder, eau de toilette and perfume. Expensive, but long-lasting and I always used it sparingly. It suited my personality, along with my collection of Laura Ashley summer dresses and hippy style embroidered jeans worn with floaty tops.

Sometime in 2004 I lost my sense of smell and it hasn’t come back. I put the blame on chemotherapy, radiotherapy or the illness. A small price to pay for survival but how I miss all the familiar smells, not just my favourite perfume but everyday things, like the house smelling clean and fresh, home baking and the pleasant aroma of appetising cooking going on. Occasionally I think I get a waft of something very slight and not for long, or it might be my imagination. I continued to wear Dioressence. I couldn’t smell it myself, but it wasn’t lost on others and it was still very much a part of me. It disappeared for a while and now it can be hard to find. Other Dior fragrances have pushed it out of vogue, like J’Adore, but I have no way of telling if I would like it, if it would suit me. For now, I treasure my remaining tiny drop of Dioressence and hope to find more soon.

The Laura Ashley frocks have made way for M&S long skirts and tailored trousers. Jeans are a staple wardrobe item, but plain and functional without embellishments, yes, boring even, and worn with tee-shirts or jumpers. If I remember, I’ll wear some beads but I usually forget.

My Haiku poem,

I Miss My Dioressence.

It was a scent of
Individuality
And it became my

Signature fragrance
Subtle, light and delicate
Ev’ry day and night,

For so many years
In my Laura Ashley frocks
Or embroidered jeans,

A hint of jasmine,
With a spicy bergamot
Accompanied me.


PMW 2022

Thanks for reading, Pam x

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Fragrance - In Memoriam

The mornings, a time for toast and cereal, checking homework is in satchel, P E kit if required then sending children off to school. Next would be allocating jobs to the household staff and bar staff, rotating the tasks as fairly as possible and getting stuck in herself where she was needed.

My mum, hair scraped back from her naked face, comfy flat shoes, navy slacks, fine-knit pale blue jumper with the sleeves pushed up. I remember her being busy, hands on, making sandwiches to sell at lunch time and how quickly she could butter the bread; two loaves worth of grated cheese and onion, a favourite of the regular customers.  Our pubs were ale houses, before breweries franchised into eating establishments and takings became target based. Any snacks or lunch-time sandwiches provided by my parents was separate to pub takings and the income it fetched was their own.

Later, after tea and into the early evening, my mother would transform herself into the smart, glamorous, attractive woman she was. She styled her brown hair into soft curls lifted off her face and shaped neatly over her ears. Lipstick, a hint of mascara, a dress and high heeled shoes, finished off with a subtle application of Estee Lauder Youth Dew or Chanel No5. This is how I like to remember her, looking lovely, accompanying my father downstairs in the pub, leaving a waft of her favourite fragrance behind.

She died young. For years I kept an almost empty bottle of her Estee Lauder for the comfort her fragrance gave me. Eventually, what was left completely evaporated and the bottle was discarded. I still have a box of talcum powder, not that I can smell it, if it should have any scent left at all, after all these years.

My sense of smell vanished after chemo and radiotherapy. All the fabulous fragrances are lost on me now. Perfume, lilies, home-made baking, the aroma is all left to memory and imagination. I still wear my Christian Dior which I used to love, and why not? I might be wafting memories around those who care.

I found this poem,

Fragrance

The fragrance of
Love and care

The fragrance that
Repair

The fragrance which
Always reminds of welfare

The fragrance with
The power of flare

The fragrance of mother
Is the fragrance of prayer.  

 

By Gemini Girl on All Poetry

Thanks for reading, Pam x

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