Patchouli-flavored hippie flashback
I got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning or something. I may in fact have gotten into bed on the wrong side.
I ignored my shrieking alarm clock for so long that it stopped entirely and when I did finally wake up my neck hurt like crazy. Probably from trying to keep my head under the pillows. So I decided that even though I was kind of late already I would take a nice hot bath. And what's a nice hot bath without bubbles? I was out of my regular kinds and grabbed the first likely-looking bottle from the part of the shelf where these things live.
I didn't have my glasses on and it's entirely possible that I wouldn't have read the label anyway, at least not closely enough to have noticed 'patchouli oil' prominently among the ingredients. And I was kind of rushed, so I didn't even sniff the bottle when I opened it, just poured it into the running water and went in the other room to do my morning exercises.
I sort of noticed the smell, but it was kind of pleasant overall, kind of citrusy and woodsy and pepperminty. And the hot water felt great on my sore neck.
But when I got out of the tub I could feel this aromatic presence everywhere, this lingering and dense cloud of odor. And it's not a bad smell, really, by itself, but it's such a strong scent and so strongly associated with other, less pleasant smells. Like those clove-scented cigarettes. And those dreadlocked blonde hippie kids with their principled rejection of such haute-bourgeois concepts as bathing and shaving and washing their clothes.
So I put on this long, embroidered, hippie-chick style dress, a funky silver and amber necklace from the market in Istanbul, and some lace-up espadrilles. I was out the door in no time. I didn't even, like, comb my hair or anything.
But please don't make me smoke one of those clove cigarettes, OK?
13 comments:
holy shit I was wondering what that scent was!!! I thought it smelled like the 4711 perfume, but I didn't think it was coming from you :)
I am so sorry about that. I thought it might have faded at least a little.
What is 4711 perfume?
it's not strong - or I would have detected the source! 4711 is an old German perfume that one of my supervisors used to bathe in . . . it is a "unisex scent"
jeez, alphabitch. i could smell the patchouli here in portland.
Hey, at least you dressed the part. ;-)
Just tell me it wasn't Pine Sol.
Frickin patchouli wearin hippies. Grrr!
Only kidding love, patchouli is only frightening when combined with not bathing.
no sis, it's frightening when it's in my house. And I'm not imagining it, either. I know I'm overly sensitive sometimes, but not in this case. I mean, my lovely ex-wife came in the other day and sniffed and asked: are you dating a lesbian?
Welcome to hippiedom!
When most people would have showered and washed the scent away as best as possible you chose one of the most admirable paths... You went with it. "You became the patchouli." There is something very "cool" about your actions. Did anyone, while you were out, take notice of your hippy-scented skin?
Peace...
~In a non-hippy sort of way, that is...~ :>)
Ha! Thanks, PoetryMan for your affirmation of my latent grooviness. Julie (see first comment above) was the only one who said anything, but it wasn't until after she read this post. And one young guy in the hallway said, 'mmm... patchouli ..." and looked around for someone younger than myself. I've reached that age and level of professionalism, I guess, where even in a hippy-style dress and shoes and funky jewelry, I still look sort of middle-aged and haute bourgeois. Alas. And I shave my legs. Plus my hair is too short to get really messy, even if I didn't comb it. You can see the shoes and hem of the dress in the "Shoeblogging on acid" post below, and the haircut in the post titled "Oops, I did it again" and see what I mean.
But it did seem easier to go with it than to spend time fighting it. I'm the sort of person who, even if I'd showered three times with regular-flavored soap, I would still have spent the whole day imagining the patchouli, so it would have just made me more late than I already was.
Do you know Maggie Bitter, alphabitch? she can tell you all about the sinister effects of patchouli. she is the lesbian version of Pepe Le Peu's feline amour, it would seem: the ladies, they flock; the Maggie, she flees.
http://maggiebitter.blogspot.com/
thanks for the link, belledame. I didn't know here, but I think I'm in love with her now. She's just so surly. I like that in a gal.
On the other hand, she does admit to wearing patchouli. On purpose, apparently.
Everything is so complicated.
err, that should be "her," not "here."
Post a Comment