venerdì 11 marzo 2011

Gimme some Opium.

Seems like someone is obsessed with YSL latelty. Truth is that I'm not, but I still believe that everybody should be obsessed with YSL in general.

When I was a kid I used to be fascinated by Opium, the Yves Saint Laurent iconic scent. Kiddo Alice would run to the bathroom and smuggle some Opium. That big, bold and exotic looking flask was just too attractive to me. I still remember holding it. And perhaps spraying it on my clothes feeling like the fairest of the ladies under the mannish bob I had to keep for many years. Back then, I could have been disguised as a boy, an incredibly handsome boy, but still a boy. I had a decent collection of miniature perfumes and samples. Lots of shapes and scents, that kept me busy for many hours. Sometimes I used them to "wash" the bathroom: every tile with a different perfume, resulting in a nauseous smell. But then, there it was. Winking at me in all its glory. Someday the perfume was over and the flask finally gone. The thought of the scent itself was gone as well, and I grew up and forgot about Opium and its world.
But, out of nowhere, the memory of Opium is back, and once in a while I know what to buy for my mother, who was patient enough to let me waste her perfume when I was a kid. Still, I don't feel like calling it "a total waste", since it gave me so much, even though I cannot say what I gained from years of sniffing Opium. And yes, I'm talking about the perfume, you silly!

On a side note for my future partner in crime that I have yet to meet: I demand a flask of Opium for my 30th birthday. I will be ready for it, then. To quote BRITNEY SPEARS (Yes, I just did it), I'm not a girl not yet a woman. I'll be a woman the day I'll be wearing Opium.

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