These days have been a bit disorienting, to say the least. Even before the headlines of the past few days, particularly the nationwide protests against police brutality and the first SpaceX launch with 2 NASA astronauts, I’ve found myself in a pattern of starting my mornings with an inexplicable frenzy of trying to read a bunch of disparate things at once—industry news, business news, personal messages, and posts from blogs I follow… why? I’m not sure, but it hasn’t resulted in the best possible start to the days. Serial monotasking has worked best for me over the years, tried and true, and I’m making an effort to go back to it.
I’ve also invested some (limited) time in digital downsizing, and although I never endeavored to “take stock of the last decade” at the beginning of this year as would have made sense (arbitrarily), the process turned out to be something of that sort. I am happy that my general movement over the last 10 years has been forward rather than backward, although it involved, perhaps, some glitches of the “three steps forward, two steps back” nature.
The observation I’m more interested in is the fact that while a lot of individual things that seemed important at any given moment have been “flattened” and blurred by time into much lower resolution, the totality of events and circumstances have surfaced a somewhat consistent picture of “me” as a whole—not defined by any particular snapshots, but emerging from responses to each and their contribution to shaping me into the person I am now. The photo mosaic seems the best visual metaphor for this. While each detail becomes less clear (less relevant in the grand scheme of a life lived), a big-picture pattern comes to light.
Of the samples I received from Jovoy with a purchase last summer (fast approaching 1 year ago), one that I’ve been using sparingly is Jovoy Private Label. Probably better suited for cold weather, it’s a strong leather and vetiver number, with a perceptible patchouli—my other half seems to have a nose radar for this note, discerning it above all others in many perfumes that have it, while my own nose is busy parsing all the other possible notes. Upon first spritz, I immediately feel erudite, picturing a room full of old books and cracked leather armchairs, where centuries of wisdom and adventure have been distilled into bound pages. The scent is dry (perhaps accentuated by the papyrus top note) and “masculine,” mature; an aura of no compromise.
There’s something like hard liquor about Private Label, although it’s not listed and might be the sandalwood in translation, backed by the “gum cistus” base note. The fragrance stays fairly linear throughout the wear, but never weakens. You needn’t worry that you’re missing anything with this one. It’s there—whether one spray or five—and it stays.
No blurred lines—only bold outlines. Say what you mean, and mean what you say.