Sunday, August 18, 2013

The Sunday Re-Run

This is actually a re-re-run.  But whatevah... **I** like the post.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Everythang Old Is New Again

I ran out of after-shave about a week ago so I swung by the Base Exchange on one of my trips out to Cannon Airplane Patch to re-supply.  Alas, they no longer carry the Burberry line of scents for men and I didn't like the other stuff they had.  So it was off to Amazon, yet again, and I wasn't disappointed.  We ordered a bottle of Burberry's "Weekend" and received it in short order.  In so doing I thought "I should write a post about after-shave..." but then a bell went off in my head to the effect of "I think you've done that before."  And so I have... about five and a half years ago, in October of '06.  Here's that post, updated with illustrations:


One of the more interesting, nay, fascinating, things about my recent trip to San Antonio was encountering perfumed women once again. I say “once again” because I cannot, for the life of me, remember the last time (or the first time, for that matter) I caught a whiff of a delicately perfumed woman in Portales. It just doesn’t seem to happen. Perhaps I’m just not hanging out at the “right” sort of places in P-Town. But it was a minor joy to have my olfactory senses treated every so often while in San Antonio. I like perfume, and have enjoyed it on the women in my life from a very early age.

It used to be that women had a “signature” scent, a brand they used almost exclusively. I’m not sure that’s true any longer…perhaps it’s an artifact from a by-gone age. Both my Mom and my grandmother had signature scents. My maternal grandmother was an Evening in Paris woman. Her dressing table was littered with those cobalt-blue bottles and containers, each emblazoned with a silver label with the brand name in flowing script. Evening in Paris was all she ever wore, as far as I know. My grandmother walked around trailing a pink could of Evening in Paris. You could walk into a room she’d vacated an hour ago and know she’d been there.  My mother was quite different in that regard.

Mom was a Chanel No 5 woman (which is hideously expensive these days; you know that if you clicked the link)…none of the upstart “new” Chanel fragrances for her, thank you. Just the original. She applied her perfume in a quick, deft manner that was the grand finale to her toilette ritual—otherwise known as “fixing my face”—a dab behind each ear and a dab in the crook of each elbow. She’d place her index finger over the bottle opening, tilt the bottle quickly on end, apply the dab, repeat. Not much at all, when you came down to it. “There are other places, too, but not for you to know,” she once told me, with a grin and a wink. Which, of course, was lost on me until much later in life. My mother’s use of perfume was subtle to the point one wasn’t really sure she was wearing any at all, but you knew she had a very attractive aroma about her. And that’s the way it should be, to my way of thinking.

The Second Mrs. Pennington wore White Ginger when we first met. White Ginger is a very clean, fresh sort of scent and it drove me nuts, in a very good, extremely good, way. Very appropriate for a young woman, and also very erotic. Perhaps it was the fact I was young and in love. Or perhaps White Ginger was the icing on the cake, so to speak. But whatever it was, that scent, on the rare occasion I encounter it these days, immediately transports me back to Former Happy Days. Interestingly, TSMP developed an allergy to perfume later in life and quit wearing it altogether. She also insisted I quit wearing after-shave, too, because it affected her in the same way.

Which brings me to the subject of male scents, or after-shave. My father, he of the Greatest Generation, used exactly two: Old Spice and Mennen Skin Bracer. That was it. I think that approach was wide-spread among men of his cohort. It was unseemly for men to wear “perfume,” and he told me so in no uncertain terms. So…during my adolescence the only scents in my medicine cabinet were his scents—like father, like son. 

That changed when I went into the military. I remember standing in the common latrine one evening, getting ready to splash some Skin Bracer on after shaving, and having a friend ask “Why are you using that cheap (stuff)?” “Here,” he says, “try this,” handing me his bottle of English Leather. I did. And I got a good comment from the Lady Friend that evening, something on the order of “Wow…you smell good!” (or something to that general effect.) I went to the BX the next day and bought some English Leather. Which, in turn, was followed by Jade East, Canoe, British Sterling, and all sorts of scents. I settled on Canoe and wore that until TSMP insisted I abandon all scent products. Now that I’m single again my “signature” scent is Burberry’s (or Burberry’s Weekend, when I can find it)…and will probably remain so.
Just a dab behind each ear and in the crook of the elbows... Heh.  Not really.  But I DON'T bathe in the stuff.
There should prolly be a limit on the number o' times one posts something/anything, and three is as good as any... for an arbitrary number.  I included the comments link above because (a) they're interesting and (b) this is one of my most-commented posts, evah.


  1. That was quite a discussion y'all had
    'bout the only fragrances I can remember using are Old Spice, Jade East, and English Leather
    They were all gifts from folks of the female persuasion
    It's been forever since I splashed any on

    1. In re: discussion. Yeah, I don't know why this post got the reaction it did, but I'm grateful for it.

      I always used to wonder when a lady friend would gift me a fragrance... as in: "Do I smell bad?" ;-)

      These days I only use a lil bit o' the stuff.

  2. I don't know the facts, but my parents said Chanel was a Nazi, and that was that, no one wants to smell like a Nazi :-)

    A funny perfume is "I hate Perfume": This is a fresh and clean perfume with the notes of rain drops, leaf buds, wet twigs, tree sap, bark, mossy earth and a hint of spring.

    mmm, tree sap... That will get you a date!

    1. Tree sap? Does it even HAVE a recognizable odor? One also wonders what "a hint of Spring" might be. ;-)

  3. It was a good post, even though Virgil called me "bad blog."


Just be polite... that's all I ask.