…or indeed anyone.

I’m not much of a perfume wearer. I have 2 go to favourites that I’ve pretty much stuck to since discovering the allure of perfume. Anna Sui, Sui Dreams, and Romance by Ralph Lauren.

You see, perfume is personal. It should be intimate. It should linger on your skin like the kiss of your ‘one in particular’, and blend into your chemistry like it was made just for you.

This is where I come undone.

Most perfumes tend to make me smell like I’ve doused myself in petrol, before indulging in a 10 mile run, whilst rubbing my armpits with pastrami. Lovely.

In a past life I worked as a sales rep. I came across a woman who worked in a perfumery. Having four sons she welcomed me into her home and, within the hour, declared me the daughter she’d never had. Her house was filled with perfumes, aftershaves, colognes and other smelly pretty stuff that distracted a girl, like me, who was far too interested in people [and their life stories] to ever be an effective sales woman. We spent most of my ‘sales pitch’ testing perfumes, sipping tea and gossiping. After several tests it turned out that most perfumes tend to make me smell like I’ve doused myself in petrol etc etc… embarrassed, I was, until she explained that perfume is personal.

What smells divine on one person could very well smell like petrol on another. She encouraged me to keep looking and gave me a bottle of Poison (Dior, not arsenic), which, coincidentally,  doesn’t smell that bad on me!

Eventually I discovered Sui Dreams and Romance. No need to look any further, not wishing to fix what ain’t broke and all that, save that one time when you’ve left it too late to pull together an outfit for a special occasion and your local Boots has no Sui Dreams, or Romance, and you don’t fancy spending big bucks on something that might end up making you smell like dead meat! Like today. Great.

Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

A trip to an out of town Boots, in a last minute bid to pull together the aforementioned ’special occasion outfit’, reintroduced me to  Cool Water. I remember it clearly from my school days. I swear most boys practically bathed in it. It was everywhere, however, I didn’t know there was a new ‘for her’ version.

I’ve tried Cool Water woman before;

It used to make me smell quite bad (remember petrol, sweat, pastrami?). Not necessarily the impression you want to leave with anyone, but I gave it another go.

I always test on my skin and never on those white strips of paper you’re handed by store clerks. Those white strips won’t tell you how the perfume smells, mingled with your personal scent, three hours after dancing wildly to Abba. I also always test on areas I plan to wear said perfume; wrists, inner elbows or neck.

The verdict? Trois point. Not horrendous, but certainly no winner. Six hours after spraying my wrists liberally I’m still picking up a sharp scent, one that almost ‘bites’ at the back of the throat. Not the impression I’m looking for.

I also tried Cool Water Wave;

Bingo.

The minute it splashed in the nook of my elbow I was hooked. It smells heavenly (on me). 6 hours later my elbow smells so delicious I could eat my own arm and I’m not bashful to say that I’ve been unashamedly sniffing myself since.

It’s very subtle and smells like part of my skin, only better. It’s quietly sensual and distinctively feminine. I would bathe in it if  I could. You really have to brush your nose up close to draw the scent in and the scent is sublime.

I’ve never been a fan of the kind of perfume that enters a room before the wearer does, choking passers by in an unwavering assault on their senses! It’s just not polite really is it? This does not do this. It’s more of a gentle invitation to your one in particular to step closer and indulge in the intimacy that is your skin, and the personality of your fragrance.

Dix point.

We have a winner.