Certain fragrances smell as though you've known them all your life... even if you were formally introduced only a scant minute ago. Case in point: Incognito, Cover Girl's much-mourned 1992 floriental. I just brought home a full vintage mini-bottle from the antique store, yet I feel positive this isn't the first time this fragrance has meandered across my path. We met many years ago... but where?
Set the scene: I'm on the #28 NJ Transit bus (all local stops between Newark and Montclair) sitting across the aisle from a woman clad in Casual Friday office mufti. Homeward bound, we slump in our respective plastic seats-- faces expressionless, feet and shoulders sore. Her thousand-yard stare (a necessity on urban public transit) exactly mirrors my own; doubtless she would discourage prying questions from a total stranger. But my god, she smells good! What perfume is that? A cheap and cheerful domestic version of Fendi by Fendi, it pools around her like honey. I love it. I wish I had the guts to ask her its name, or even more, to wear such a thing with aplomb behind my own courtesy desk. Anyone can be an interchangeable worker bee-- yet who could pass unnoticed wearing a scent so feminine, so delirious?
They named this thing all wrong, I think. They should have called it Shameless, or Wanton, or Defiant-- if for no other reason than to raise service industry employee morale. Such names, and the fragrance attached to them, make being hitched to the grindstone bearable. To hell with your coworkers and their oversensitive nasal passages: this is survival, people. Do it in style, or don't do it at all.
Scent Elements: Aldehydes, orange, lemon, bergamot, greens, basil, jasmine, ylang-ylang, lily-of-the-valley, rose, carnation, iris, honey, cinnamon, patchouli, rosewood, sandalwood, tonka bean, amber, benzoin, styrax, incense, civet, vanilla