Replique, a 1940’s “…woody fragrance for women…” by Raphael (Raphael 1944), is a delightfully sweet, dense scent with vibrant aldehydes. It’s Earthy, urbane and tenderly aromatic. Replique is a very 1940’s floral chypre (Miss Dior) but then becomes powdery like Shalimar in a heady and elegant sort of way.
Vintage Replique reminds me a bit of Vol de Nuit, except it’s wilder, girlish, and more Earthy. It could have easily been worn by Lauren Bacall in a fitted tweed suit or by Katherine Hepburn in one of her feminine twists on typical masculine attire. However, it’s an absolutely stunning fragrance that could be, and I think should be, worn today too…
Top notes: bergamot, sicilian lemon, cardamom, neroli, coriander, clary sage and aldehydes. Middle notes: ylang-ylang, lily-of-the-valley, egyptian jasmine, mimosa, tuberose, heliotrope and coumarin. Base notes: oakmoss, olibanum, powdery notes, musk, ambergris, vetiver and patchouli.
A kind woman recently reminded me that I shouldn’t deny when something is affecting me.
It’s just that in this world we are often rewarded for being dishonest about ourselves in ways that make life more pleasant for other people. And it’s even easier to be dishonest with others when you are already ignoring how something is affecting you. I am almost always torn between personal honesty, and being guarded. So, having not quite found the perfect balance yet for myself (I’m working on it), when I am honest it can be too brutal and when I’m guarded it’s impossible to find me unless you know exactly where to look… I’m working on it, I guess…
If you truly know me in this life, and know when things are affecting me, you are one of very few people… And I think that that’s probably true for most people. Isn’t it?
I’m sure if you’ve read this blog for any extended period of time you know that I have a fond feeling for American authors from the so called, “Lost Generation.” I once read The Real F. Scott Fitzgerald written by Fitzgerald’s last love, and mistress, Sheilah Graham. She supposedly had a very trying, painful, yet at times gloriously emotionally gripping and tender romance with the late author. They did seem to be in love with each other. They had a relationship that was off and on for about three years. However, Sheilah Graham wrote that one of her and F. Scott’s contemporaries commented that Graham never really knew F. Scott Fitzgerald. Graham contends that this woman was simply jealous of her relationship with the great American author and was trying to be hurtful. Perhaps the comment was made out of vapid jealousy, but it does beg an intriguing question. How well do we truly know people, even people we’re in love with – the people we’re supposed to know best? People have such great depths.
I think, from my observations, that most relationships, of all sorts, go through three big distinct stages (not a new observation I’m aware) with tons of other stages between. The first stage being the one where you initially find the person groovy (groovy being platonic, romantic, etc.). The second stage being the hardest – where you find out who the person is compared to who you think they are. In that stage we wage our wars. We set our limits, and we figure out if this person will be truly close or if we’ll eventually have to let them go. People love to extoll the beauty and virtues of the first stage, lament the sorrow the second, but it’s the third stage where the real magic happens. If you ever reach that third stage, you’re an incredibly fortunate person…
I think the second stage can last for decades at worst… And sometimes the worst part doesn’t even involve any fighting but living with the pain of a shallow bond that will eventually shatter (I’ve had friendships like this).
But that third stage… I’ve seen marriages where the love didn’t last past the second stage, but a deep, powerful friendship found itself in place instead. One of my mom’s friends was married, had two kids, raised her kids with her husband and then her husband had an affair. He remarried his mistress, and somehow, miraculously, after sorting through the confusion and pain they were all friends. Close friends… She remarried too and is quite happy… There was a friend in high school who I had heated arguments with at times. We had very different political views that we were passionate about (still do) but then, after a while, we realized that at our core we were kindred spirits. And even though I don’t talk to her anymore (we lost contact along the way) we left things on good terms and I know that if I ever ran into her we would pick up where we left off. It’s a firm, deep, and meaningful bond.
I guess, I think that it’s in that third stage when you truly know someone… Everything before that is either a retroactive study in how you will never actually know the other person (outside of supernatural intervention – ha!), or a beautiful, inevitable passage deep into that person’s heart. The older I get the more I believe in a funny sort of fate, although of course you can never know it until it’s just the present… There’s so much we simply cannot control.
Have a pleasant day. 🙂