When an aversion to a specific note suddenly develops, I don't know what to make of it. September rolled in and I can't wear rose scents at all, unless the rose is very well-hidden. I can't wear rose musks and soliflores. Annick Goutal Ce Soir ou Jamais and even fruity blends like Petite Cherie get on my nerves. I'm also having a hard time wearing rose combined with heavy woods, maybe cedar, moss and patchouli in particular. I think I'm also getting sensitive to certain aldehydes--I can't tolerate Chanel No.22 and Etat Libre d'Orange Vraie Blond. Testing Amouage Dia the other day made me feel nauseous. All of these contain fair amounts of rose. I thought I'd wear a chypre scent today and Eau du Soir sounded like a good idea--until I detected rose. It's ironic that in the Roman year of completion, I have begun to find roses close to being abominable. Just seeing the word "rose" makes me feel uneasy.
It's strange because I'm still attracted to the idea of roses at the same time. I plan to retest Hermes Rouge, a rose incense blend that wears like smoky, animalic velvet. I want to wear rose which, incidentally is the New York State flower, but maybe somehow it doesn't fit who I am anymore. I used to be a Nahema woman. The queen of flowers is so powerful, it seems to take over everything it touches. I look back on my earlier posts and wonder how I could have worn Caron Rose and N'Aimez que Moi. I see my neglected bottles of Agent Provocateur, Cabaret, Penhaligon's Elisabethan Rose and Rose d'Ete, and think it's a shame I can't love them back because I used to wear them so well. I was going to write about Estee Lauder Private Collection and Pierre Balmain Ivoire this month to focus on some of my favorite green chypres alongside Eau du Soir, but I just can't put them on my skin, and they're not even that rosy.
There must be one rose I could still wear, but I haven't even been in the mood for my all time favorite rose blends like L'Heure Bleue and Fumerie Turque. Instead, I'm wearing the cooler, earthier and less floral Vetiver Oriental--the one I think smells like sweet rubber tires. Now, that, I seem to enjoy.