Li-li-lion, lion’s in a jungle, jungle’s in a cage, tra-tra-trouble, trouble in the homelands, trouble in the homelands, bosses in a rage ….. A Party. Big Audio Dynamite. 1985.

I am very responsible and completely in control of my perfume habit. Except when I really want something.

I always was going to get the new and only available in the UAE Chanel Exclusif, Le Lion de Chanel, it was only the question of how. I started by emailing one of the department stores in Dubai that carried it. Coincidentally on that same day, Portia sent me a video of himself and a friend trying a sample of Le Lion in a store in Sydney. First part of my mind lost. He told me that he could organise getting a 200ml bottle sent to me at an eye watering, yet not too bad for such a large bottle, cost. The 75ml was not possible. I needed to think.

I have a husband with a bike addiction. (He has been known to call UPS and arrange a meet-up on the autobahn, just so he can get his bike a couple of hours earlier than it would actually be delivered to him.) So he did not flinch when I told him I was considering a blind purchase of a perfume for more than 400 Euros – do what you gotta do.

After much thought, I made the decision not to buy it, too much dosh to risk, especially on a blind buy. Portia offered to include me in his split and put me down for 10mls – that I would have to spray out of an atomizer with no magnetic Chanel cap, and have to wait for. But you know, you take what you get, huh?

The following day I had a voice message. He could organise 75ml and did I want it? Open Pay-Pal – transfer. This is the definition of responsible.

A day later it had been sent and I had a tracking number. I knew it would take about a week, so did not bother to check more than fifteen times a day. I started to get excited when I saw that it had landed in Vienna and cleared customs and was out for delivery, expected on the Friday, eight days after the order.

I had a live radio show on this Friday and time was getting so tight I had to go. No problem, I could wait until Monday anyway. Just as I was leaving I had a message on the tracking app – the package was at the post office, and at the same time unbeknownst to me, the postman had dropped into our shop with an official yellow “your package is waiting to be picked up” paper which he gave my husband.

Over the years, as in many countries, post offices have closed down here , and have been moved into corners of general stores etc, and in our case, into the local gas station. It is always a complete pain-in-the-ass having to go there. You wait in line forever as the employees are rather – well, as my father used to say, “pay peanuts and you get monkeys.”.

I waited in line for thirty minutes, sweating like a bloody junkie, and worried I was going to be late for my show. About fifteen minutes in Chris (husband) turned up with the aforementioned yellow paper, he was going to pick it up for me as a surprise, not knowing that I knew it was there already. (Insert laugh here, we ALL know where our packages are at any given time.). He left me the paper and legged it back to work.

It was finally my turn. I gave the employee the paper, and she turned around and stared vaguely at a couple of shelves, looked blankly at her computer screen, and told me the package was not there. I told her it had to be there as I had the tracking confirmation and the bloody yellow paper. But no. She said she had no idea where it was and there must have been some sort of mistake. I told her not to be ridiculous it had to be there. At this point she walked across the aisle and looked under the counter where the gas station part of the building sell their bread and sandwiches. I kid you not. I suggested to her that packages are not usually kept under bread counters. There was no one else there to help and the alcoholic, chain-smoking gas station assistants, just leaned against the counter looking like a couple of extras in Deliverance. I left in a cloud of 28 La Pausa and red lipstick, telling her I would be back tomorrow.

I was so piping mad as I got into the car that I could barely breathe. I had about a half hour drive to get to the studio, and would have a few minutes there before the start of the show. I had to do some seriously deep breathing, and needed to decide if I wanted to start the show with The Clash’s White Riot. As luck would have it my brother called a few minutes into the drive to wish me good luck for the evening. As I told him the drama I started to calm down a little, and to laugh. He kept talking to me for the whole drive and I was so thankful. It allowed me to get a little perspective (that might be a lie) and put myself into show mode.

I have a free hand at the radio station and told my listeners I was pissed. and why. I had several messages from perfumistas and yeah, you know, shit happens. The show must go on!

Saturday morning and I was back at the Post Office at nine. AS I walked across the garage forecourt I saw the assistant take one look at me and go hide in the back room. Hahahahahahahahahaha. Quite right too. She came out after a couple of minutes, I had already decided not to freak out. She did not bother to look though, that made me so mad. I mean at least pretend to check the shelves and the sorting area. When I asked where she thought it might be she shrugged her shoulders. Dude.

Monday morning came, I went to work, and Chris went to the Post Office. I know I would have stabbed her if I had gone, and who would make the cookies then? As he walked into the post office she reached under her counter and took out the package. And here is the unbelievable part: Told him that it has been there all the time but she had not seen it. And she felt so bad that she gave him a box of chocolates to give to me to say sorry. I say open your eyes girl, and I don’t eat chocolate.

I went down to the post office today (Thursday) and took Le Lion with me so that she could her try it. And I wanted to thank her for the chocolates. Unfortunately she was not there.

THE END

Thanks to all who supported me through this difficult time, you know who you are.

By Val the Cookie Queen

Notes: Bergamot, lemon, labdanum, amber, vanilla, patchouli, sandalwood, musk.

Le Lion de Chanel opens with an eruption of bergamot and aldehdydic leather. It is exquisite. The love child of Shalimar Parfum, father unknown.

We do know the perfumer is Oliver Polge.

The construction seems to be built around a centre of cool church incense, although not mentioned in the official note list. To my nose the incense remains throughout the entire composition allowing it to retain a continued coolness and elegance in the heart of what is an oriental amber.

Not a dark and sticky amber, and not the choke-you-to-death flat, unpleasant amber beloved by so many niche perfumers. This is graceful and elegant.

The base is rich and shimmers with light. There is a soft leather presence, a sandalwood richness; the animalic labdanum assures the sensuality, and a dry vanilla which, like the incense, envelops the wearer from the first moments, makes this an absolutely stunning piece of work.

Worldwide launch January 2021.

A limited release in the Middle East, May 2020.

CQ

Disclaimer. I got my bottle from the friend of a friend’s friend, whose Uncle’s dog died. I paid hard cash for it.

Ken Crisp 20 July 1931 – 10 June 2020.

There was never not an Uncle Ken and Auntie May.

As a child growing up in the wilds of Wyoming and the suburbia of California, Uncle Ken and Auntie May were voices on a tape. My mother (his sister) was desperately English, and I do believe was rather a fish out of water there, having transferred from the soon to be swinging London in 1960, to a land where a having a garden was a yard, and you had to watch out for rattlesnakes.

Each Christmas a box would arrive from England full of Rowntree`s Fruit Pastels, Cadbury’s Chocolate, Smarties, Germolene, and a tape recording from The English Family. Uncle Ken and Auntie May, Nanna, and my cousins. Mum would play them, and play and play them again. I have one old tape still, that Mum put onto a cassette at some point. Their voices still fascinate me, so very BBC, “Hello Valerie, this is your Uncle Ken speaking!”

We left the Unites States in 1967 on a Pan Am jet heading to Heathrow. Uncle Ken was waiting to pick us up. I remember climbing into what seemed to be a huge black car, but surely wasn’t, and the steering wheel being on the wrong side.

Uncle Ken and Auntie May have lived in the same house in Pinner for some sixty years. It has been and still is the one constant in my life. As kids we had the best Christmases there. Well known for hosting the greatest parties, already back in the sixties, Uncle Ken would fill their huge garden with strings of fairy lights, and glowing lights that were somehow hidden in amongst the bushes. They would leave all of us kids and cousins alone as we hid ourselves in amongst the magic. And as far as I know he never electrocuted himself!

He had a great sense of humour. I would on occasion go and stay with them, and his daughter and I would go up into town for a night out, returning on the last train back. Uncle Ken would be waiting outside of the tube station with a large cardboard sign in the front of the car saying “Crisp Taxi Service.”

I left England in 1985. Out visits became more sporadic, and we entered the “cards for birthdays and Christmas” era. Scattered with the occasional visit when I went home.

Over the last ten years though, I have been going home much more frequently. I stay with their daughter and I got to really sit and talk with Ken for quite some hours, and spend time looking at old photos. Curled up on their über-comfortable sofa and eating too much cheese on toast, in the home I have been visiting for more than fifty years. Snug and secure.

Uncle Ken and Mum. 1940. St. Ives, Cornwall.

Uncle Ken passed away on the 10th of June.

Just a fortnight before I had called him and we spent a good half hour on the phone chatting about everything. For this I will be eternally grateful.

I cannot go to the funeral, thanks to the ridiculous 14 day self-quarantine rule in the UK. I am not sad that I cannot be there, I am bloody annoyed.

Rest easy Uncle Ken. Although if Mum has got a hold of you that will be highly unlikely.

With love from your favourite niece.

I have been wearing the Neela Vermeire Creations Mohur Extrait after my evening shower, just about every day since I got a 10ml travel size. Must be about eight weeks now? And those nights where I didn’t, I wore Lutens’ Iris Silver Mist. I also have about 10mls of the ISM. I desperately want a bottle of each, and have nearly talked myself into it several times. Years of idiosyncratic perfume behavior has taught me a few things though. And one of them is to recognize the fact that 10mls of perfume lasts a really long time, and with the exception of Malle`s Le Parfum de Therese, I have never finished a travel of anything, let alone a full bottle. I still want them. I am hoping that when I have one of those days when everything aligns, when the moon is in who tf knows, and I have had just the right amount of caffeine to not care ……….. otherwise I will wait until they are empty, if that ever happens.

I hate shopping for clothing of any kind. Apart from packs of underwear from M&S. I needed a new sports bra though, as the ones I currently wear have as much stretch as the weights I try and lift.

I grabbed the bras off the rack, and went onto the changing room. You know the kind? The ones with the lighting that magnifies cellulite, and riddles you with prominent blue veins. The ones that are so hot your make up melts off within seconds. I knew I would not be able to do the putting-the-bra-on-backwards-and-twisting-it-round routine, which is why I very wisely took b.londeswunder with me so as to have someone to do it up for me at the back. Watching your mom bending down over her knees trying to shake her boobs into the bra cup, and then proceeding to jump up and down to see if it holds everything together for gym activity? Man.

The only reason I went through this process is because I had no choice. I had to have one. When I try clothes on in a changing room, I inevitabley decide everything looks like shit, and I can get another 5 years out of my ripped clothes, and I run out as fast as possible. And you know what? Things do mostly look bad in a changing room. Hannah is going to teach me to shop online. Properly. And enjoy (I seriously doubt it) trying on things in my own home, in front of my own mirror. I am most certainly not holding my breath.

Part of my brother’s dental kit.

So my brother performed dental surgery on himself last week. Pulled out about a third of a tooth that had been giving him trouble. Using nothing but a Stanley knife to cut into the gum, and a pair of sort of surgical pliers to pull it out. He is a carpet repair specialist, so had both of these tools conveniently to hand. It gave him immediate relief and is healing nicely. This is the same guy that took a hefty swig of bleach out of a glass I had out on the kitchen counter in the first flat I ever lived in. He had come to drop something by when I was not at home, and thought I had left him out a glass of lime cordial – his favourite tipple. It burned his throat, and he was unable to swallow properly, which did affect his voice for a few days. Needless to say he has not contracted Covid 19, having immunized himself at a young age. (I have no idea to this day why I would have kept bleach in a glass, but I did smoke a lot of weed back then.)

…. You have the right not to be killed, murder is a crime, unless it was done by a policeman, or an aristocrat oh, know your rights …… You have the right to free speech, as long as you’re not dumb enough to actually try it …… know your rights. The Clash. Know Your Rights. 1982

BLACKLIVESMATTER

Two weeks since the lockdown was lifted. Austria has had 16,358 cases, and 635 deaths, There are 190 in hospital right now, 31 of which are in the intensive care units. Figures taken from the official update Friday 22 May. No second wave right now.

Masks are everywhere. The most popular place to keep them seems to be hanging from the rear view mirror, followed up closely by in the pocket, or hanging around the neck, or pushed down under the chin. All the restaurants and bars have reopened, and life is moving on. The hospitality staff wear masks or visors. I had to laugh yesterday in Linz, I walked by a waiter serving on the terrace with his visor pushed up onto the top of his head in a kind of duck bill way. I fully understand. Talking with one of those plastic sheets in front of your face is awful. Still people are making the best out of it and not wearing them when you don’t have to. Except those that do, and these are the ones you see driving their cars with their masks on. Really? Folks are social distancing of course, to the best of their abilities. That did not include a huge group of leather-clad bikers at a burger stand yesterday. I guess there were around fifty of them, and at least thirty huge bikes. Definitely all one family.

Conclusion? Masks on public transportation, in supermarkets and shops, banks and post offices, gas stations and the like? Everyone is doing it. Still, I do not see it catching on long term.

The countries around Austria will open their borders over the next month, that is the plan. And I cannot wait to go down to the beach in Italy for a few days. I am also planning a few days in Switzerland mid-summer, and will go on the train. Scotland was on the cards but I don’t see a trip to the UK happening this year.

Restaurants are slow, business is not back to usual by any stretch of the imagination. Shops the same. Economy suffering. I cannot imagine how bad the tourist industry is gonna suffer. The government is really pushing the “Holiday in Austria this year and help the industry” theme. Fair enough.

Cookie Kitchen is back in swing, but not as busy as usual. Yet.

MEANWHILE ……………

I have never had a Holy Grail anything, that is until now. Fanfare. Tara introduced me to the NARS Soft Matt Complete Concealer a couple of years ago. It is amazing stuff. However, she also gave @b.londeswuder a sample of the IT Bye Bye Under Eye Full Coverage Anti-Aging Waterproof Concealer. Well I tell you, the IT stuff is incredible. It’s amazing. The texture, the consistency, the coverage, the colors, the tube it is in. The tiniest amount is all you need. My daughter is as blown away by it as I am, we bought our tubes together. Superb stuff. It stays put, does not melt, does not dry out, and I have ordered back ups. The NARS comes a very close second, but second is not quite enough.

Malle’s Rose & Cuir has been my Scent of the Post-Lockdown.

So where y’all at?

“Apart from the sanitation, the medicine, education, wine, public order, irrigation, roads, the fresh-water system, and public health, what have the Romans ever done for us?” Monty Python. Life of Brian.

CQ.

Saturday 2 May – Friday 8 May.

Life is pretty normal for me now. The restaurants re-open next week which means I am back to my cookie prep this weekend, and on Tuesday I will have the first Cookie Run (my weekly delivery to Salzburg) in about eight weeks, I will be wearing Malle’s Rose & Cuir. The longest break I have had from work since we started the business some twenty years ago. Despite it being a bit weird at the beginning it has been a pretty relaxed time. I know the I am both privileged and lucky to be able to say that. So many people have lost their jobs, are still in lockdown, are having to teach, feed, and keep kids happy. People have died, people are sick. I am aware.

I delivered some cookies to a store in a huge shopping mall just outside of Linz. As you know masks are mandatory inside shops and buildings, public transport and so on. We spent a good hour walking around the mall and I tell you this. There is no way I am gonna do that again. By the time we left we were ready to freak out. It’s like you can’t think properly with the mask on. Now don’t get me wrong, I am not against masks in any way. They serve a purpose and were necessary to get us out of the lockdown. We drove on into Linz city. I have no problem going into a shop on the high street wearing a mask, when you come out you can take it off. That is doable. But a shopping mall? No chance, I hate them at the best of times.

In the Linz harbor, there are a lot of warehouses, containers, and cranes. The whole area has been pimped up by turning into a graffiti gallery. Some of the artworks are enormous. The artists came from all over the world, and it is quite a hotspot. It was not really open when we were there, but that has never stopped my husband and we were on our bikes so we just biked through the whole area. Very cool.

I am trying to call it physical distancing now, and not social distancing. Makes more sense.

My cat continues to be fine, and I continue to find lurking bloody sneeze drops in the bathroom.

That is really about it. The drama of the last few weeks has died down for me, back to business as usual. Well, not quite. Gyms are not open yet, that will be at the end of the month. But I have done at least four proper workouts a week over the last eight weeks and am dead chuffed with myself. So —– I will pop back in a fortnight with an update and see how it is going with all of you in different countries. Anything dramatic should happen just drop it into the comments here at anytime, Tara and I wanna keep up.

Lockdown Free Perfumes of the Week.

Chanel 1957 and Boy. Frederic Malle – Une Rose. Vero Profumo – Mito Extrait. Neela Vermeire Creations Mohur Extrait and a ton of Bombay Bling.

“And you may ask yourself, well how did I get here?”  Talking Heads.  Once in a Lifetime.

CQ.