Dear Anonymous Fellow Perfume Collector,
First of all, I apologize for being such a pirate-- but you really need to find a new hiding place. It's getting so that every time I go to Ye Olde Antique Barn, I know precisely which shoebox full of old doilies conceals your not-so-secret stash. First the Lanvin Arpège purse flacon, then the vintage Youth Dew, and now this. Change it up every once in a while, and I might not make off with all your best left-behind finds.
Another word of advice: carry some money with you when you go antiquing. I'm not talking hundreds-- just a five-dollar bill should do it. I mean, I know you want to go home and check the eBay resale value before you make that crucial initial investment, but all they were charging for this full half-ounce bottle of vintage Nueva Maja was A DOLLAR FIFTY. Most people have that much change on the floor of their car. For want of a mere handful of quarters, you could be home gloating over Nueva Maja instead of me-- but to the victor go the spoils, etc. etc.
(I worry about you, Fellow Perfume Collector. I really do. Perfume is super awesome 'n' all, but if you're so broke that you have to hide secondhand shit behind larger secondhand shit because you don't have A DOLLAR FIFTY to ransom it from captivity, then maybe your needs could some prioritizing. I know that's crazy talk. But you might want to consider it.)
However our circumstances, motives, and methods differ, we're probably a lot alike, you and I. We both know a good thing when we see it. One glance at Nueva Maja's bottle and label, and we knew she was both vintage and hip. (The original Maja debuted in 1921, but the flamenca on Nueva's label is clearly a child of the 60's-- bouffant hairdo, mascara and all.) Her juice had lost its characteristic spinach-green tint, but while this caused you to hesitate (were you still fretting over potential eBay profits?), I proceeded to checkout undeterred by a little discoloration. Because the scent is what really matters-- and she (as I'm certain you know, and I apologize for tormenting you with needless reminders) smells ¡fantastico!-- like old-school Emeraude laced with sprigs of wild thyme from Málaga's Costa del Sol. In a world where perfume has to either be French or have a French-sounding name in order to enjoy street cred, Maja (along with its compatriot Tabu) shoots a clear and resounding goal for España.
Look, I'll make you a deal. If we ever come to face to face -- that is to say, if you catch me dipping into your stash, which is not likely as I shop like a NINJA -- we'll go out to lunch, share a few laughs, and I'll provide you with generous decants of all the fragrances I've wrested from you over the last year. You will see for yourself that Nueva Maja is the wearable essence of Bizet's Carmen, something that belongs on skin rather than on eBay. You will choose a brand new hidey-hole for your perfume purchase hopefuls-- or heck, you'll simply ask the nice proprietress to HOLD ITEMS FOR YOU. (She will. I've seen her do it.) And then we will call a ceasefire to this cruel and heartbreaking war.
See you at the Barn (just don't blink, or you'll miss me),
Scent Elements: Bergamot, lemon, lime, mandarin, gardenia, clove bud, carnation, jasmine, rose, iris, ylang-ylang, oakmoss, vetiver, patchouli, benzoin, balsam Peru, vanilla, musk