Saturday, February 14, 2009

The Scent Confessions

The Hostess is secretly scent-compulsive. I try to keep it to myself however, if my Husband finds out then he might expect more than I can honestly do while being preoccupied with scents during my one and half free moments a day. And he's right: The corgi is a downright stinky dog. As if a normal household does not have enough to overcome, I have Pumpkin, who I dream at night whispers in my ear, "I roll in dead things..." This compulsion and every dollar spent on it is justified. Don't argue with me, or the dog will be on your doorstep with a bow and her dead squirrel.

Plowing forward, then. I have noted this issue in others, I am not alone. On Saturday, some friends and I piled into a car to head down to Dominick's on Arthur Avenue (okay, there is more than one obsession at work here) and next to me in the console was a Lush powder bath bomb. Lush could be an obsession all on it's own but that's another thing. Anyway, this was in the console:

Above my nose, a coconut rum air freshener, down near the floor - another; pine fresh. I knew this territory though I keep mine hidden in compartments. While I have not resorted to bath bombs, there are dryer sheets hidden compulsively everywhere. There are scent beads from Renovation Hardware in the vacuum bags (on sale right now for $9.50!):

In the bathrooms, cleaned with lavender and eucalyptus Method Home products (their motto: "People Against Dirty". Those are my people, People.), there is also the lovely and unassuming still-wrapped bar soaps placed strategically in every bathroom. A person might think the soap is there to wash one's hands. It's bar soap - not on your life would I use this as hand soap. It never looks neat or dries and always feels slimy. To wash our hands I employ gallons of French liquid soap for which I either have to cough up $28. for, or can usually find at Homegoods for $4.99. The Mistral bar soap is in our lives because even unwrapped, it makes the room smell divine.

After a month or so, when it begins to wain, I snip a tiny corner of the package open. I snip more when the room needs it. When I have exhausted the snipping, I unwrap it. Another month. Finally, it becomes our shower soap where it is once again enchanting.

I know what you Anthropologie shoppers are thinking: That Mistral bar soap is a small fortune, I'll stick to my Dove, thanks. But, hold on, Cher. There is a trick to the obsession: I receive the weekly emails from Mistral. Each week, the Soap of the Week is reduced $2 a bar for the regular size. Occasionally, and just for no reason at all, there is an additional discount and/or free shipping. And there are samples placed in every order! I love it when an obsession comes together.

These are a few of my favorite scents, though I particularly adore those that are also exfoliating:

I have gone on silently in this way for some years now. While I don't believe Josh has ever thought my job and the thought which must go into it were easy, until now he probably never realized just how very drilled down the thought process has to be, and how clandestine.

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