2015-03-21 14.52.26 (2)

(Thierry Mugler 1992)

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Angel by Thierry Mugler starts with a sweet, sharp burst (Thierry Mugler 1992).  It’s a gourmand.  Well, it’s the gourmand actually…  But it’s not a sugary sweet fagrance without depth by any stretch of the imagination.

Notes of honey, peach, red berries, tonka bean, dark chocolate and caramel are bold and yet not cloying or obvious. There’s something almost melancholy about Angel actually…  As if it’s a sweet memory and not the present.

At any rate, Angel is a lovely scent…   Sillage and longevity are both moderate.

Top notes: melon, coconut, mandarin orange, cassia, jasmine, bergamot and cotton candy.  Middle notes: honey, apricot, blackberry, plum, orchid, peach, jasmine, lily-of-the-valley, red berries and rose.  Base notes: tonka bean, amber, patchouli, musk, vanilla, dark chocolate and caramel.

2015-03-21 14.52.01 (2)

Coquette: Part IV of IV

Not knowing what to make of the sudden gush of emotions I felt I called my mother.  Or, I tried to call my mother.  I reached my father instead.

“What!?  That young man I met at the train station?  What does he even do for a living?”

“Yes.  He says he owns his own record company.”


“Oh don’t believe him.  I highly doubt he does.  Boys will just say stuff like that to get what they want.  They’ll make up anything.”  To my father Tony was beneath me and I couldn’t figure out why.  I liked him, even if he was a bit scary in a wonderful sort of way.

“Dad, I don’t think you’re right.”

“Oh, I know I am.”  He paused.  “They’ll say anything.  I bet he’s not a record producer, or whatever it was you said, at all. He probably works at McDonalds.  He saw that you had a nice father, came from a nice family and that you’re cute.  He saw a good opportunity and decided to take it.”

I trusted my father.  I felt crushed, but I trusted my father.

“Listen, what is it that you want, Becky?”  I was quiet as I thought about it.

“I just want to experience life, dad.   I just want to be kissed and fall in love and…”

“Then if that’s what you want, you should just go out with Patrick.  You should just go make-out with him if you have to.  Or are you afraid it would go too far?”

“No.  I’m certainly not afraid of that at all, dad…”  I rolled my eyes.

“Ok.  Well, then you should do that.”

The crass nature of my father’s words struck me as hurtful and humiliating.  For the rest of the morning I felt sick…

However, Tony was too close for comfort.  I had to be myself with him and for once I knew what all those questions felt like – the ones I asked that made other people squirm.  I felt scared of something I couldn’t control.  I was overwhelmed with emotion and that was a very uncommon experience for me because despite the vastness of my emotional terrain I always maintained a firm hand.  I always kept it all neat.  Nobody had ever challenged my supremacy over my own mind or had ever struck me as unpredictable as Tony seemed, and we had only just met.  It was lovely but disorienting.

And then my father told me he was a liar.  A liar.  I was possibly falling in love with a liar..  I hated being lied to.  I wasn’t going to get desperately hurt and be a fool for an ordinary, common liar.

“Hello, Tony.”  His voice sounded shaky and sensitive in response.  I immediately felt guilty.  It seemed I was getting it all wrong in some way.  I grew even more scared as I continued, “I just need to tell you that it was nice to meet you last night and I really enjoyed talking with you but I don’t think I can ever talk to you again.  I’m sorry.  And please don’t contact me ever again either.”


“I know.  I’m sorry.  It probably seems weird.  I just feel like I over-expressed myself with you the last night and I’m not used to that sort of thing.  It was a little too much for me.  I’m sorry.”

He sighed before saying, “Ok.  I can’t even email you?”

“No. Nothing.” I answered coldly because I had made up my mind.

“Fine.   Have it as you wish.”  He spat the words and then continued with a much more sincere tone, “But before I leave you alone I want you to know that I was so excited to have had the chance to meet you.  I’m sorry you’ve made the decision you have.”  Then with more anger,  “I’m even more sorry to say that I know you’re going to live to regret it.”  I felt indignant but I knew he was likely right.   He changed his tone to one of resignation.  “Ok.  I won’t talk to you again. Bye.”

I’d made a mistake, but without any experience to turn to for answers, and with a terrible fear of something I couldn’t put words to but knew was, in fact, a character flaw on my part, I couldn’t turn back.  It was all so strange and I honestly couldn’t sort it out.  That never happened to me.

A month later I got a call on my cell phone in the middle of the night.  I answered and heard a bunch of people screaming expletives at me.  They were clearly drunk and I knew what it was about the moment I hung up the phone.  I hated myself a bit and I generally never hate anyone.

Later that same day I had a violin lesson.  Dr. Richely was quieter than usual, except for one comment he made about the richness of my tone.  He said my playing had a lot of added depth.

On the way back to my dorm room Del found me.  She ran up to me, bubbly and cheerful. “So are you going to go to the Honor’s dance next weekend?  I’m going!  Chris finally broke up with his girlfriend over the weekend!”  She paused, looked at me with energy in her eyes and smiled brightly.  “I’m so excited,” she said, jumping up and down and pronouncing every word with emphasis.

“Oh my gosh!  You guys are going to have so much fun.”  I tried to sound enthusiastic.

“I know!”

“So.”  She made a cute face, still beaming, “Did you know that Lenny broke up with Jackie too?”

“No, I didn’t actually.”  A sinking, unpleasant feeling was gnawing at me.

“Yeah.  You need to go.  You should ask Lenny.”  It almost sounded like a command.

“We’ll see…”  I try to smile to be friendly.

“Ok…” She looks slightly bored with my response before announcing, “Well, I’m going to go to lunch.”

I wanted to be alone and I wanted to scream.  I wanted to cry.  But I knew I would likely just find myself sitting quietly, listening to music doing nothing but staring.

“I’m just going to go back to my room and sit and maybe read for a while.”

“Ok!  Have fun with that.”  Then she was off with a skip.

We parted.  The ground beneath me felt as if it was moving in a funny way.  An empty ache filled me.  I saw a tiny bird walk across my path and I suddenly felt terrible for that bird.  Who was taking care of that bird?  How had it made it through the winter?   I cried a bit, looked around and realized that nobody, thankfully, had seen me.   I started walking and tried to reason through my feelings as I headed back to my room.

When I reached my dorm I heard music playing from someone’s car radio.  I saw a couple happily throwing around a frisbee.  I saw the lights on in the hallway through the windows and everything that had almost been articulated in my mind on my walk back, everything that had almost made my mind less foggy suddenly left me.  I wanted to retrieve it, but it was gone.  A vague, numb sadness was there instead.

“Oh, Becky!” Sam found me just as she was walking out the front door.  “Do you want to come with us to lunch?”  She was smiling warmly and I needed warmth.

“Sure.  That sounds great.”  I said flatly with a forced smile.   It honestly did sound nice though.  So, I went to lunch.

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