Baccarat Tough

Ok. I lied.

The first time I lied was as a child. I may have lied before this occasion but I recall it best when I was in a pre-school. My mother taught at a religious pre-school and I was enrolled there because of it.

I told all the teachers a story about a vacation we didn’t take. Most of the other families were well-off (my immediate family was not back then at all) and so in order to fit in I made up a story about a luxurious vacation we never took. Everyone was taking expensive vacations but us. We visited family and local scenic places but never went anywhere seemingly glamorous. My story was so believable the other teachers eventually asked my mother about it and she had to explain that we’d never taken the vacation. Later that night I was in a lot of trouble. My mother had a very long discussion about lying with me, explaining how wrong it was.

I rarely lied after that. I rarely do lie. Her talk so seared in my mind the importance of being truthful that it’s stayed with me all these years. I don’t entirely remember what she said, but it was effective. I was also very embarrassed the next day in class when my teachers confronted me.

What did I just lie about here on this blog? Buying L’Heure Bleue. The truth is I planned to buy it and last night I almost did but then Mark remembered a sealed vintage bottle we saw months ago at an antique store. A sealed vintage bottle… Anyway, I still have to purchased that bottle. Sorry dear readers. I’ve felt guilty. Now I feel better.

I asked Mark to call the antique store today before we went there to make sure they still had it. In fact they do, but it’s in storage. I’m hoping for the best.

The question now is: Which bottle do I open (provided they get back to us and find it)? I think that question will be decided by which one is in better condition or which one is the oldest. That’s literally my thought process about which one to choose. Is that good reasoning though? Should I go with opening the one I’m least sentimental about?

Of course, someone reading this is likely thinking: Why do you even wear old perfume?! Isn’t that dangerous? My answer is of course that it’s likely not any more dangerous than wearing perfume made today. It’s more likely to aggravate allergies. There are some ingredients that might be a bit carcinogenic. But…I doubt that it would be more carcinogenic than the ingredients today. I could be wrong… But I was have a “gut sense” that it’s about equal?

Will I die from L’Heure Bleue? Probably not? Honestly though, having had depression since childhood and currently sorting through the remains of a dead marriage while trying to be a good mother…if it shaved off five years and I died at 85 instead of 90 I don’t think I’d care unless I am able to find someone to love who loves me in return equally. I’ll have to explain this more, I think but there. I said it. The only reason I would care without that is because of my children and potential grandchildren. And for that reason alone I actually do worry… Well, and to honor God. The life God gave me.

Phthalates are disturbing though. Are they lying to us about their safety? *shrug* Probably. But I also doubt the perfumes today are that much worse than my vintages. Or are they? Hmm… Some people in the fragrance community think they are safe (certainly safer) and will yell at you about it. *sigh*

I think I’ll stick to my vintage L’Heure Bleue. It’s romantic. It’s hopeful but not entirely naive. It’s a haunted beauty. Hopefully it won’t kill me faster then I should die.