handypolymath: (trelawny)
[personal profile] handypolymath
  Lolita Lempicke 
"...based on licorice. Beautiful anise note is a perfect match to licorice and violet. The intensive green ivy note is fresh and optimistic. The almond is in harmony with woodsy iris and sweet vanilla, united with heliotrope and tonka."

This is my seven year old daughter's perfume, a tiny bottle given to her by the lovely Saudi couple we bought a couch and some lamps from off Craigslist a while back.   She saves it for special days, and decided that hanging out with me all day was special enough for both of us to wear it.  Who am I to contradict that?  We dabbed it on our wrists this morning and kept sniffing through the day to see how it wore on each of us.

In the bottle Lolita's on the sweet side but surprisingly complex about it.  The effect is like a roll of imported lozenges that probably aren't candy, but you can't stop eating, or a strange-colored herbal cordial that keeps you sipping, but you suspect might be meant as medicine.  This is probably the anise.
 
True story: when I was two I ate a Sen-Sen I found on the floor, and immediately spat it back out with the knowledge, "This is poisonous."  I was shocked to find out sixteen years later that this was actually a food--a food people consumed on purpose.  My loathing for licorice is pretty solid, but I'm beginning to come around that anise, as a scent, metabolizes deliciously on me.
 
On our two skins Lolita begins to morph right away into two versions of itself.  The Kiddo steers Lolita in a nutty direction, which skirts the edge of sweet florals for a few hours and then settles solidly in a mild almond place that fades completely after eight hours.  She's a Crusades-era confection, marzipan and steam-distilled flowers.
 
My skin takes Lolita into an alternate universe where licorice marries heliotrope, invites me over for dinner, and I stumble into a cab at the end of night delighted that I wasn't poisoned.  A cab driven by Willy Wonka, because after eight hours the only thing left is the particular Lik-M-Aid scent I get from violets.
 
Violets tend to be epilogue-only on me, so Willy Wonka is often my designated driver at the close of a scent.

[edited because I'm cut-tag impaired]