I'm getting used to my new home. To giant billboards to Hezbollah and Hardee's burgers, to neighbourhood cosmetic treatment clinics, to labyrinthine streets, to complicated community divisions. Over the Easter break I walked for miles through the city. Street names being meaningless, I tried navigate by landmarks - some visible, some existing only in the social memory, as in "Yanni, you know, where X used to be, before it moved / went out of business / changed names / was torn down..."
You can watch Beirut growing and changing like a form in a petri dish. The skyline seethes with cranes, and construction crews populate nearly every city block, building up, up, up, as if to overcome the atmosphere of uncertainty. Unrest is so close here. People say, nothing is certain; there is no alternative but to live in the moment.
It's been a long time since I've lived anywhere where hair, lips, heels, sunglasses, handbags, jewels, and perfume are taken so seriously. This is, after all, the land of Mika and Elie Saab. Beirut's reputation for highly manicured party-goers is no joke. I can't say I aspire join the ranks (it looks like a LOT of work), but I do enjoy the cultural celebration of perfume. In the past week I've encountered rose attar after Easter Mass, Paco Rabanne from a passing a taxi, Roberto Cavalli's big floral on a man in a department store, Tuscan Leather in the street, and Alien in the office. The ethos seems to be, "spray bravely" and if everyone's doing it, well... This weekend I wore a generous helping of Red Cattleya to a cabaret and it really was le parfum juste!
Newly courageous, the next day I let an SA spray me with Habanita (EDT and extrait). She and the rest of the friendly staff exclaimed helpfully about how it "spread out" as I moved. Indeed it did, like a sonic boom - first of astringent bitterness, then dry, dusty, sweet powder. I hated it, and worried about scent-torturing the taxi driver who drove me home. It was so overwhelming that I had to take a bath and a day-long vacation from perfume.
For fun, here's Mika doing what he does...what perfume does this song make you think of??
You can watch Beirut growing and changing like a form in a petri dish. The skyline seethes with cranes, and construction crews populate nearly every city block, building up, up, up, as if to overcome the atmosphere of uncertainty. Unrest is so close here. People say, nothing is certain; there is no alternative but to live in the moment.
It's been a long time since I've lived anywhere where hair, lips, heels, sunglasses, handbags, jewels, and perfume are taken so seriously. This is, after all, the land of Mika and Elie Saab. Beirut's reputation for highly manicured party-goers is no joke. I can't say I aspire join the ranks (it looks like a LOT of work), but I do enjoy the cultural celebration of perfume. In the past week I've encountered rose attar after Easter Mass, Paco Rabanne from a passing a taxi, Roberto Cavalli's big floral on a man in a department store, Tuscan Leather in the street, and Alien in the office. The ethos seems to be, "spray bravely" and if everyone's doing it, well... This weekend I wore a generous helping of Red Cattleya to a cabaret and it really was le parfum juste!
Newly courageous, the next day I let an SA spray me with Habanita (EDT and extrait). She and the rest of the friendly staff exclaimed helpfully about how it "spread out" as I moved. Indeed it did, like a sonic boom - first of astringent bitterness, then dry, dusty, sweet powder. I hated it, and worried about scent-torturing the taxi driver who drove me home. It was so overwhelming that I had to take a bath and a day-long vacation from perfume.
For fun, here's Mika doing what he does...what perfume does this song make you think of??
I've heard so many good things about Beirut from Lebanese friends and I also love the attitude they seem to have towards perfume - the very opposite from Sweden.
ReplyDeleteOne of these days I just might be booking a trip to come visit :)
Haha, o yes it's a different attitude - the food's great (and aromatic) too!
DeleteAxum, if this question is too personal, then skip it, but I was wondering if you could tell us what type of work you are doing?
ReplyDeleteSorry to hear you got hosed down with Habanita. I love it, but it is strong and one definitely has to love vetiver and powder to get on with Habanita. (Even though it's touted as a tobacco scent, I've come to believe there's a good dose of vetiver in it.)
Regarding your perfume question, I really can't say what perfume Mika's song makes me think of (actually, it's hard to hear the lyrics as the video was kind of bumpy when it played). What perfume does it remind *you* of?
Hi Suzanne,
DeleteWell.... :) If Mika and his song were a perfume it would be big, stylish and playful, with a dark, ironic base. It would be a perfume that says, "Yeah I'm flashy and bubbly, but I know how the world works, habibi...et moi je vais survivre." This is pretty much what I think a celebrity scent _should_ smell like, but doesn't.
Habanita was a learning experience - there's been discussion recently of 'drenching' as a testing technique. Although wearing such a large dose was overwhelming, it was interesting, like being caught inside a wave - you get to find out what it's all about while you're being buffeted all over the place. I want to try it again, with something else - to see whether, after being clobbered, I still like what I smell. I wonder what will pass the test?
After having one or two scrubber experiences I try to refrain from testing perfumes in which I'm not sure without an immediate access to a shower.
ReplyDeleteI cannot think of one particular scent for this song but there is a reason for this. It makes me think of citrus and I do not usually look deeper into this genre. It would have to be a sad little citrus though, maybe Czech and Speak Citrus Paradisi, which unlike the name implies is the citrus devil would wear.
ReplyDeleteI love Habanita. You just never allow SA's to spray on you! You got to pull the trigger yourself.
By the way, Beirut looks so much like Athens! I have a good friend who is half Greek - half Lebanese and we have been talking about going there together for some time.
ReplyDeleteOh, Habanita. The bottle alone intimidates me!
ReplyDelete