The Scent Crimes Series: No 15 - The infuriating shape sorting puzzle that is Cuir de Lancôme packaging

It's been a while since the last instalment of The Scent Crimes Series. Looking back through my archives, I had a massive flurry in the early years of Bonkers, before the posts became much more sporadic. For no good reason though, as I am still as irritated by things in the fumisphere as much as ever I was, if not more so, haha. This and the next post in the series were directly inspired by my recent perfume bottle sale, as part of which I decided to save underbed storage space by reuniting bottles with their boxes (where I had them) - both the ones I was selling and those that stayed behind.

One of these was the very wonderful Cuir de Lancôme - the only scent of which I have a back up bottle. Um...except Lidl Suddenly Madame Glamour, that is, which I am sure must be a mistake. One bottle is quite enough to meet my Coco Mademoiselle Doppelgänger needs. Anyone want the other one? BNIB for £4 plus postage!

Yes, Cuir de Lancôme is an unctuously sumptuous leather scent, one I find sufficiently bewitching to warrant my being bothered to give it its circumflex, so go figure. But I only rate the perfume, mind, and categorically not the box. The bottle top is also a bone of contention, and I have had a moan before about its woeful wobbliness, and inability to screw tightly, or snap shut, or remotely achieve hermetic closure in any way whatsoever.

But it is the box itself for which I reserve my greatest opprobrium - or the maddening shape sorting puzzle apology for one. For anybody not familiar with the Cuir de Lancôme packaging, it comes in two parts - three if you include the cute yet ultimately annoying concertina product leaflet, that is shaped like the bottle and vaguely reminiscent to readers of a certain age of paper dollies.

The box itself consists of a plinth and a cover, which has a cut out recess in the inside to accommodate 'Mr Weeble Top', as he shall henceforth be known, while the plinth has two cut out recesses - one to accommodate the base of the bottle and one to house the foldy-out leaflet. Once opened to its full extent, the leaflet seems to gain a mm or two in the process, and proves a tad tricky to slot back into the slit.

However, this fiddly procedure pales into insignificance compared with the Herculean task of inserting the bottle in the plinth recess, while simultaneously ensuring that Mr Weeble Top goes into the one in the 'roof' of the box. It is not unlike those fights we have all had inserting toilet rolls into toilet roll holders with a spring mechanism. Or batteries into devices, if you are one of those people who are career dodgers of toilet roll changeovers. No sooner do you get one end in when the other one promptly pops out.

Not only this, but the recess in the top of the box is nearer to one side than the other, ditto the one in the plinth for the bottle base. So you have to take care to put the box on facing the right way round, which isn't necessarily immediately obvious to anyone like me with less than optimal spatial awareness.

And I bet that if we all totted up the collective minutes we have spent trying to return our Cuir de Lancôme bottles to their boxes, we'd have enough time to exfoliate or make our own pesto or read the Sunday supplements. Or take up artisanal pencil sharpening (cue the most entertaining and informative nine minutes I've spent in a long time)...or stuff a mushroom, even.

Yes, Cuir de Lancôme may be one of the finest leather scents out there, but the packaging designers most certainly deserve 'a taste of the cat'. And I don't mean Truffle!

What are your pet packaging peeves? Do share in the comments!

The Scent Crimes Series: No 12 - Impregnable perfume miniatures

I had my friend Sharon to stay this weekend.  Readers may remember her as the born again Roja Dove Scandal and Fracas fan featured in a couple of earlier posts here and here - I guess I could consider her as another 'protégé'  - one whose scented explorations I have been documenting as I go along here. Anyway, Sharon is sufficiently keen to continue her perfume j***ney that every time we meet she always asks me to bring some new things for her to try, or - if she comes to my house, as on this occasion - to get my stash out for her to have another delve into.

Today she had a very specific request, namely to sample whatever I could lay my hands on by Bvlgari, a brand recommended to her by a friend.  Bvlgari also happens to be one of my favourite brands in the mainstream/designer sphere, along with Kenzo and Prada.   So I fished out my one bottle (Black), a large and disastrously leaky decant of Rose Essentielle, and samples of Femme, Mon Jasmin Noir and Voile de Jasmin. Unfortunately for my friend, I had already sold my bottle of Omnia Crystalline in last year's yard sale, and given away my bottle of Jasmin Noir to a neighbour who had fallen hard for it at the time (a well-intentioned impulse I now regret).  I was pretty sure I also had a sample of Omnia Coral, but I had found it so insipidly fruitily inconsequential that it - and the rest of my 'bag of hell' - had been banished to the outer darkness (quite literally!) of the garage.  Underbed storage had failed to put enough physical distance between me and the offending items, you see, despite my general success rate in life with the 'spider under the bed' principle...

As it turned out, Mon Jasmin Noir was the only one of my patchy Bvlgari collection that Sharon cared for, when I suddenly I remembered that I also owned a miniature of Omnia Green Jade, and managed to extract this last example of the brand from the not inconsiderable coat chaos of the cupboard under the stairs where my perfumes now reside.

Before I come onto the specifics of the Omnia Jade mini, here is a 'class photo' of my miniature collection, with twins standing next to each other and small ones at the front, as is customary.  Okay, with regard to the Micallefs, one is the younger sibling of the other one, as you may infer from their differential height/size.

Two sets of twins, one other sibling set...;)

Out of all these perfumes, only TWO have a spray mechanism - can you guess which? The rest have tiny holes, and you have to upend the bottle and dab as best as gravity and a pinpoint aperture permit.

In terms of the cap mechanism, my experience with minis is mainly of the 'yank off sharply' variety, with some screw tops in the mix, plus a few obdurate bottles that require the 'combination method' of yanking AND unscrewing.  It can be quite a fiddly exercise, comparable to the difficulty level of unstoppering those tiny plastic wands from the smallest size of glass vial, which readers intermittently write to me to complain about.

And then...then there is Bvlgari Omnia Jade, verily the Rubik's Cube of perfume miniatures.  Well, I use the word 'cube' advisedly, as it is more of a figure of eight really, like two thick silver coins getting it on.

And could Sharon and I figure out how to take the top off?  Could we hell as like!  We alternated at having a go, but no amount of pulling, pressing or prising seemed to do the trick.  Twisting, turning and tugging were equally fruitless.  'Okay', said Sharon calmly, 'let's figure this out from first principles.' (I should point out that my friend is a Project Manager, supervising the complex build of fighter aircraft no less, a logical thinker and 'critical path'-follower to her fingertips.)

'It must HAVE a top, surely?' I volunteered lamely, when suddenly a piece of green plastic trim flirted off and fell on the floor, revealing an impenetrable metal casing within.

'Yes, but where?' replied Sharon, as we both simultaneously experienced flashbacks of that classically pesky 'Where's the end of the Sellotape?' variety.

So we spent a few more minutes scrutinising the housing of the mini, looking for even the slightest hairline crack, that might possibly be suggestive of a demarcation between bottom and top.  Then, her frustration mounting, Sharon took one last enormous - and completely random! - tug to the bottle, when to our surprise not so much 'the top' as 'the most of it' came off!

Then we dabbed a bit of Omnia Jade on - in our all-consuming bid to 'crack the cube', as it were, we had all but forgotten our original interest in sniffing the perfume enclosed within - and pronounced it to be quite pleasant and refreshing, in a limpidly nutty, faintly green kind of a way - though we may have been subliminally influenced by the colour of the box or bottle...  Or the name indeed.  Speaking of the box, as Sharon was casually lifting it up to check the name of the perfume again, she spied a little diagram inside the lid...

'Oh look, this tells you how to open it!'  Typical women, we had just dived straight in there without reading the instructions first. ;-) But there again, who would have thought a perfume bottle would come with instructions about how to take its top off...?

So have you ever seen such a diagram?  And have you experienced problems opening minis in particular, or figuring out how to get tops of full-sized bottles?

I do remember puzzling for ages over the location of the Prada Candy spray nozzle (which of course had been cunningly integrated into its Cadbury smash robot head - or half head, to be anatomically correct about it).

Source: sephora.com

Whole-headed Cadbury Smash robots ~ Source: youtube.com

Here are the surprisingly eclectic notes of Omnia Green Jade, should anyone be curious:

Notes: spring water, green mandarin, white peony, nasturtium, pear tree flower, jasmine petals, fresh pistachio, white woods, musk

Finally, I must just mention that as I was gathering my minis together for this group shot, I nearly included the one pictured below...which turned out to be the top of my full-sized Cuir de Lancome bottle, which - as any readers who own one will know - is chronically prone to toppling off at the drop of a hat, and looking rather like a miniature when it does.  Somewhere on the Interwebs I am sure I read about a clever fix to make this top fit snugly again, but I can't remember where now...

Perfume Lovers London Meet-Up: "An Evening Of Leather", With More Leather Scents Than You Can Crack A Whip At...

Yes, some weeks before the second meeting of the Perfume Lovers London group at the New Cavendish Club, the upcoming talk had already acquired its snigger-worthy moniker of the "Leather Event". Some of us - well, speaking for myself, anyway - were keenly anticipating an evening of leather-themed double entendres and backhanded references to whips, canes, flagellation and tight outfits involving sturdy yet stretchy fabrics. Oh, and some perfumes that smelt of leather, maybe...

Before I had even made it down to London, I got myself into character on the self-harming front: for the train gave a sudden and violent lurch as it was nearing Euston, and I fell hard against the plastic arm of a seat, badly bruising my leg. I can't say I derived the remotest sensation of pleasure from this injury, and was in my hotel room slathering arnica on a a purple area the size of a small republic when I picked up a message from Katie Puckrik. She suggested meeting up before the talk - this time at a Lebanese restaurant near the venue. In a leatherette booth (putting us in the mood for the night's theme!) we exchanged news over a plate of falafel and - in a Middle Eastern take on petits fours - dainty, bite-size morsels of baklava.

Suitably refuelled, we headed down to Marble Arch tube station to rendez-vous with Tara of Olfactorias Travels, and the three of us made our (slightly circuitous) way to the club - I persist in thinking it is in a crescent of smart townhouses set back from the main road, instead of on the corner of the next block. Third time unerring, maybe.

The event was held in the same ornate yet cosy room as in January, and Lila Das Gupta and Grant Osborne greeted everyone warmly, proffering the usual fine drop of white wine (or juice alternative for the health-conscious or anyone mad enough to drive into Central London). It was great to see Tara and Nick again, also the Candy Perfume Boy - by our reckoning, we had not met since a Basenotes event in the summer of 2008!

Lila kicked off her talk with a brief overview of the history of perfume and its link to the glove industry. The frank tone of the evening was set early on, when our host explained how leather came to be perfumed in order to mask the odour of the urine - and sometimes faeces - used in tanning.

From here it was a short hop to the fashion for gratuitously perfumed gloves: technology advances had eliminated the need for a pleasant odorant in the manufacturing process, but by now perfumed leather had become firmly associated in people's minds with luxury goods. As well as scented gloves - of which Queen Elizabeth I owned enough pairs to rival Imelda Marcos's shoe collection, apparently - Lila cited the example of Russian jewellers wrapping precious stones in perfumed leather.

To round off this first section of the talk, we were invited to smell a couple of iconic "Historical Leathers": Knize 10 and Chanel Cuir de Russie. The former reminded me of Pledge furniture polish, while others in the group got insect repellent, and Katie pronounced it to be "sharp on my nose hairs".

When the discussion turned to Cuir de Russie, the subject of castoreum came up - and out of beavers - strictly in a dietary context, I hasten to add. For not only is the leather note in Cuir de Russie derived from birch tar, but the scent also contains castoreum from Siberian beavers who ate birch bark, infusing their musky secretions with birch by the back door, as it were - or the back passage, you might even say...

Lila also explained the connection between early leather (and tobacco) scents and female emancipation / financial independence. At this point Grant - who, armed only with his iPad, did a sterling job as ever in charge of visual aids - showed us a photo of a besuited Ann Scott-James, one of Britain's first female career journalists.

In the next section of the talk ("Cheap and Cheerful Leathers"), we took part in a fun blind test, to see if we could distinguish between the bargain basement perfume, Dana English Leather, and the vastly more expensive niche offering, L T Piver Cuir. Reader, I could! I didn't really like either to be honest, but the cheapie cologne was the more tolerable of the two. Then, after we had enjoyed a couple of cheesy period TV ads, including a raunchy and sexist one for English Leather from the 60s, Lila introduced us to her special guest, petite perfumer Liz Moores, who is releasing a leather scent of her own later this year.

Liz passed around some raw materials for us to sniff which are used to create different leather effects, starting with a birch tar that smelt like creosote, quinoline (a curious hybrid word fashioned from "crinoline" and "quinine") that had a green and aromatic facet, and suederol, which sounds like the stuff cheap patchwork handbags on a market stall might be made of. It was in fact my favourite ingredient of the three, and is sprayed by Jaguar in their new cars, presumably to enhance their naturally luxurious new car smell yet further!

Next up, Lila invited us to sample some leather scents in the other categories she had devised. So following on from "Historical" and "Cheap and Cheerful", we smelt examples from "The Middle Ground" (PG Cuir d'Iris, Parfum D'Empire Cuir Ottoman), "Beautifully Blended" (EL Azuree, Mona di Orio Vanille), "Soft Suedes" (Bottega Veneta), and "Sex God" (Dior Leather Oud). So as not to overface us, Lila omitted to circulate any scents from the "Full-On" (Mona di Orio Cuir!) or "Maverick" categories (Tauer Lonestar Memories!, L'Artisan Dzing! - which comes with integral exclamation mark!). However, some of us dared to dabble in these during the milling around part of the evening after the talk proper was over.

Grant also took advantage of our gathering to announce the results of the Basenotes Reader Awards in a "pop-up ceremony", and there was much hilarity over the Creed nominations in no fewer than three categories, and Royal Oud's subsequent triumph as Best Men's Fragrance of 2011. Grant agreed with my suggestion that Creed is the Manchester United of the niche perfume world, by which I meant that it could be a lazy default choice for those who are unfamiliar with the many options out there.

Mona di Orio won two awards (Best Perfumer and Best Perfume House), and Lila read out a touching letter from Mona's business partner, saying how much it would have meant to her if she had lived to see her work receive these accolades.

As well as complimentary samples of three of the award-winning scents (Bottega Veneta, Terre d'Hermes and Royal Oud itself), we were all given a free leather bracelet to make our leather experience complete! Lila had explained at the start of the talk that thanks to its porous surface, leather is particularly good at absorbing odour molecules, and we were encouraged to spray our bracelets with our favourite leather scent of the night. This inevitably prompted paroxysms of indecision on the part of some delegates, on a scale known only to Travalo owners, who must similarly make up their minds which fragrance in their collection they love enough to commit to this monogamous receptacle.

At one point during the evening, Lila "outed" me as having expressed a reluctance to come along in the first place. This is because I am not much of a leather fan really, give or take the odd exception like Cuir de Lancome, L'Agent by L'Agent Provocateur and Sonia Rykiel Woman (though the latter two weren't featured). I can truthfully say that I didn't discover any new leather scents to love, despite being introduced to so many in this single, intensive session. I had fun trying, though!

And unexpectedly, there was also the chance to test out the winners of the Basenotes awards. I spritzed on original Angel (which decomposed on my skin before my very nose! - Katie remarked that it smelt as though I needed to take a shower), Illmasqua Freak (which smelt more like Angel on me than the real deal), and Jennifer Aniston (a clean-smelling musky jasmine, which - had I applied it more liberally - might have made me smell as though I had taken the shower Katie recommended, along similar lines to our perfumed leather from earlier : - ) ).

So, thanks are due to Lila and Grant for a whip-crackingly good night, which was lively to the point of rumbustious! We submitted our noses to a right birching from more leather variants than you can shake a stick at, and blow me if my favourite discovery of the night may turn out to be a beachy celebrity scent. And definitely would do if regular application could give me her artlessly tousled, perfectly highlighted mane.

Photo of whip from Alaskan Dude via Wikimedia Commons, photo of glove from Magnus Manske via Wikimedia Commons, photo of beaver via Wikimedia Commons, Jennifer Aniston perfume from glamfull.com, other photos (Maroush restaurant, Lila with some of the group, Katie Puckrik talking to Liz Moores, the Candy Perfume Boy sniffing his bracelet - that isn't facial hair, though you might be forgiven for thinking so - and Tara) my own.

Perfume Lovers London's Maiden Meet-Up: Nick Gilbert - A Voyage Round My Collection

Last Thursday saw the inaugural meet-up of Perfume Lovers London, a non-profit making social group for fragrance fans founded by Lila Das Gupta of Olfactory Events. "Inaugural" is rather a grand term to use perhaps, but the session was held at the New Cavendish Club off Oxford Street, a renowned private members' club which has the facilities and ambience of a gentlemen's club, but which I learn in Wiki was originally in fact for ladies only!

Well, on the evening of Nick's talk there was a respectable smattering of men at a quick eyeball, helped no doubt by the fact that Olfactory Events is associated with Basenotes. Grant Osborne was there, multi-tasking as official photographer, court (as in Twitter) reporter and wine waiter. And very nice wine it was too.

For readers not familiar with Nick on Facebook, Twitter, his own blog G & T & That, or the one he co-writes with Lila and the Candy Perfume Boy, Fragrant Reviews, Nick spent 10 years in fragrance sales at a branch of Boot's in his home town of Bristol, before landing a plum job with niche perfumery Les Senteurs in London last August, since when he hasn't looked back.

And before I get into my account of the talk proper, a word about the name of the event may be in order: "A Voyage Round My Collection". For it struck me that a lot of people in Perfume Land are on voyages of some kind at the moment: there's Olfactoria's Travels, while the byline of Bloody Frida's blog is "a perfume journey". And the Candy Perfume Boy recently wrote about "10 Things I Have Learnt On My Scented Journey". So you know, quite a few journeys all told. And of course I do a fair bit of travelling myself. But even factoring that in, the current traffic patterns are still well below American Idol levels.

Nick had set out his bottle collection on a table in the corner, and he and Lila sat in front of the imposing fireplace and adopted a sort of chat show format, with Lila in the role of host. Nick talked through each of the fragrances he had selected: how he came to find it and at what point in his life, a bit about the notes and the nose who created it, and also what associations it conjured up for him. It was a very informal affair - with interjections and questions from the floor, including a lot of ribald free assocation: "It's the citrus that keeps on giving", "it smells like a boudoir-y temple" etc, which was a source of much merriment.

So here in brief are the "stops" on Nick's tour of his collection, based on my scribbled notes, so apologies in advance for any material inaccuracies!

CK BE

Bought by Nick's mum for him at the tender age of 11, because he had seen Paula Yates describe it in glowing terms on The Big Breakfast. Comments ranged from "soapy fougere" to "freshly washed man" (which isn't actually much of a range come to think of it!), and there was speculation as to whether the formulation might have been changed since Be was launched - I remember it as being more citrus-y, but I could be wrong.

YSL M7

This was the scent which tipped Nick from regular cologne-wearer into raging perfumista. It was one of the first perfumes to feature oud, and was accompanied by a very raunchy press campaign. Whipping out his iPad, Grant stepped up to yet another role (props / special effects) and googled an example of a poster ad for M7 with a reclining male nude, whose focal point was nicely showcased, let's just say. Why was I not surprised to learn that there are 165 positive reviews of M7 on Basenotes? : - ) Okay, I jest, for it was a pretty ground-breaking scent at the time. One audience member described it as "borderline between chemist and sweet shop", and "cherry lips" (a confectionery line that may only resonate with British nationals over the age of 40) were also mentioned, but not in a bad way.

ESTEE LAUDER BEYOND PARADISE

Nick considered Beyond Paradise to be one of the best feminines to have come out at the time (2003). Created by Calice Becker, it is characterised by an accord called "Eden's Mist", after the Eden Project in Cornwall, the largest indoor rain forest in the world. For Nick, Beyond Paradise conjured up a tropical island with a waterfall (think Herbal Essences shampoo adverts), and smelt of hairspray and violets. Nicola Pozzani, the Synesthetic Provocateur who led the Le Labo workshop I attended last year (though he now has his own company, SSENSE), pointed out that Beyond Paradise was Estée Lauder's "anti-J'Adore" release, while Luca Turin describes it in Perfumes: The Guide as a "balanced abstraction" rather than a representation of a tropical flower. I wasn't too sure about it myself - I think I prefer Lalique Flora Bella as balanced abstractions go - but I could see where they were coming from.

COMME DES GARÇONS MAN 2

This was the "boudoir-y" or "sexy temple" alluded to above. Created by Mark Buxton, who is also the nose behind Le Labo's Vetiver 46, it has notes of incense, vetiver and mahogany, and if my scribbles serve me, Nick's interest in this scent arose out of his liking for the original Gucci pour Homme with its combo of incense and cedar. This was pronounced (I think by Nick) to be "smoke on the skin", and it was the perfume I chose as my free sample at the end of the night, along with the one of Escentric Molecules 01 which we all received, courtesy of Lila.

GUERLAIN HOMME

Created in 2008 by Thierry Wasser - his first scent in his role as Guerlain's in-house perfumer - Guerlain Homme reminds Nick of a holiday in Australia, specifically Bondi Beach, and marked the start of his love affair with mint. To give you an idea, he is a born again fan of FM Geranium pour Monsieur. With one or two exceptions, the general view of Guerlain Homme was favourable, not least because the mint note is not of toothpaste proportions. "It's controlled mint!" piped up Tanya from the front row. With the help of Grant's iPad, we looked at yet another raunchy ad, this time a TV spot for Guerlain Homme. It bore the tag line "For the animal in you" and starred the obligatory hunky, pec-rippling male model and a full complement of big game animals.

GUERLAIN VOL DE NUIT EXTRAIT

One of Nick's Ebay bargains, two blotters sprayed with the parfum version of this classic scent from 1933 were reverentially passed around. It was not to everyone's taste (a bit dense, a bit aldehydic, a bit dark maybe), and we agreed that you need to be in a kick ass mood to wear it, but it spoke hauntingly to us of a bygone era of glamour and formality - and who knows, maybe someone had wafted it in the very function room in which we were sitting, at some point in the last 80 years...

CHANEL NO 19 EXTRAIT

We smelt the actual bottle top of this one, and the fact that I haven't taken any notes about it except the phrase "recent formulation" says to me that there wasn't a lot of discussion on the subject. I recall it as smelling like No 19, only more so. Hey, what do I know? I'm a Poudré girl, so shoot me!

CUIR DE LANCÔME

I introduced Nick to this one, to which he kindly made reference: we did a swap when he was still in Bristol and in return I got my hands on a sizeable decant of Diptyque Eau Duelle, which has now grown into a full bottle! Nick described Cuir de Lancôme as having "plummy leather" and "powdery amber" facets, and it was news to some of us that a leather note in perfumes is created by boiling birch tar - obvious, when you know how! Nick placed Cuir as somewhere between chorizo (this is not good) and luxury leather, and I would agree. It is quite full-on and slightly rough round the edges but I do love it myself, and would have chosen it as my free sample if I didn't already own a bottle (with annoying wobbly top).

GUERLAIN SPIRITUEUSE DOUBLE VANILLE

This was a Christmas present from Nick to himself, as he is a lover of vanilla in fragrance. Now I too think of myself as a bit of a "vanilla ho", not least because my less offensive nickname at school was Vanilla Mutton, however, I realised from testing this scent that I prefer my vanille to be single - or "simple" as the French might say. Or maybe I could tolerate it at double strength, but not with boozy notes thrown into the mix. Saying that, Tara tested this the following day on skin in Harrods and it wasn't half bad on her, but on the whole I give alcohol in fragrance a wide berth - of the beverage variety, I mean, as opposite to its important carrier role.

Although it didn't figure in the talk as such, we did also chat a bit about the nature of Iso E Super in our Escentric Molecules Molecule 01 sample. Tanya (who's proving to be a bit of a wag!) described it as the aromachemical equivalent of a "woofer", because it enhanced other components in a formulation (assuming there are any, which is famously not the case with Molecule 01). Neville went a step further by dubbing it "the monosodium glutamate of perfume", which had us all in fits of laughter.

After the session, Grant topped up our glasses and we milled around, chatting to other members and inquiring about their own "scented journeys". By a strange coincidence, I found someone with the same thyroid condition as me, and we had a good old chin wag about symptoms, dosages and pill chopping tactics. It was nearly 11pm by the time the last of us rolled out of the club - and in my case, straight into KFC. (Note to self to insist on breast next time.)

So yes, a great night was had by all and thanks are due to Nick, Lila, Grant and Escentual, who stumped up some free testers. Was this "olfactory event" worth the voyage from Stafford? You bet it was, and I have already booked to come down for the next one...



Photo of the New Cavendish Club from whoseview.co.uk, photo of Eden Project from Karen Roe on Flickr, photo of leather ornament from TheWristbandit on Flickr, photo of monosodium glutamate from dltq on Flickr, other photos my own.

Pernickety Pipette Practices - A Mug's Game?

When I first began decanting perfume, I remember reading the following warning on NSTperfume, in their comprehensive guide on the subject:

"Avoid plastic funnels, as it is nearly impossible to remove all traces of scent once they’ve been used."

Having adopted a strict mantra of "metal good, plastic bad", I proceeded to apply it to the pipettes I use for decanting from splash bottles. I use them for one scent only and label them to this effect. Now...I have been doing this swapping lark for a year or more, and pipettes are starting to proliferate in my office. This means that I sometimes forget what perfumes I have dedicated pipettes for, and consequently I have at least two for certain scents.

The pipettes are stored in two mugs, notionally in a fanned out display to avoid mutual contamination. By the way, the pipette wearing the improvised bandage made out of a bit of kitchen towel is not ailing, but its designated perfume is deemed to be particularly contagious (Cuir de Lancome).

An interesting post the other day by Notes From The Ledge discussed the subject of "Wandering Minds", as in minds left free to roam off topic in an idle moment. And so it is that when I get distracted from my work, I sometimes find myself staring at the mugs of pipettes - and before you can say "graduated in 0.5ml increments" other images pop into my mind...

And if I ever tire of my hobby, I might be able to fashion interesting household objects out of the used pipettes, drawing my inspiration from this lampshade, which seems to be constructed entirely from uncooked spaghetti.