by Angeliska on December 21, 2009
Happy Winter Solstice, beloveds!
It’s not especially chilly here yet, though
it has gotten a little frost-spangled some nights,
the tease of recent snowfall amounted to only
a meagre flurry. That being said, I’m grateful to
know that the days will be longer from here on out.
The thin silver scythe in the sky and all blackened
wraiths in our garden caution me that it may get colder
yet. Bundle up, little rabbits! I get cold so easily, I have
to have almost every bit of skin covered. I’ve considered
even bringing back the ski-mask balaclava. It’s only
recently that I’ve started to get the hang of layering
properly without looking like a lumpy snowman.
There’s some evidence of my progress down below
a bit, thankfully not looking too lumpen or rumpled!
I got caught up earlier staring for way too long at
National Geographic’s hypnotic Patterns in Nature series:
Frost covers the windshield of a car in Tuscarora, Nevada.
Photograph by David Boyer
Snow covers an orchard in the United States.
Photograph by Richard Olsenius
Bare trees cast lacy likenesses on Kunming Lake in Beijing, China.
Photograph by Macduff Everton
The other night, I was invited to two costume parties:
the first was a 60′s-70′s themed holiday bash, and the
other was a Peter Pan/Lost Boys birthday party.
My conundrum was to come up with something appropriate
for both, and also warm. I went with a witchy-progrock-cult
member-medieval look that is probably more 80′s looking
than anything else, but what the hell. I’m pretty obsessed
with my new peruvian wool poncho, and having been wearing
it every day. I used to borrow my step-mama’s cloaks and
suede wrap-boots (man, I miss those!) and wander the woods
after reading piles of Elfquest comics. (Did you know you can read
ALL the old issues online? True. Very dangerous! Oh those Pinis!)
Yeah, I probably carried a staff and definitely was fervently wishing
at all times that I had pointy ears and four fingers and that the
elves on their wolves would come and rescue my from my
adolescent misery. Anybody else with me on that?
This is me, on the moon. In my backyard. Wearing the beloved poncho,
apparently asleep. Clearly passed out on the ground (or the moon)
is my favorite pose. Yep. Stay tuned for more photos of me sleeping!
Poncho, scarf, leggings, boots = all thrifted. This is my uniform.
Not so much with the headband, though I do want to reclaim it
to it’s true glory. I’m working on revolutionizing them, and I promise
it won’t involve stretchiness, terrycloth, or being jammed down
over straightened bangs, okay? Just wait. It will be magical.
My darling Sienita left her Oaxacan gold earrings in my driveway
the day after Halloween, and I’ve been wearing them nonstop
ever since! I’m totally holding them hostage! The ransom is
100 pesos and a bottle of cherry-rum cordial, just so you know.
Witch witch witch.
Speaking of headbands, I remember being completely fixated
on the album artwork for Debbie Harry’s Kookoo.
Her face is the most perfect face, ever.
This image made such a huge impression
on me at a very young age, but I’ve never
actually listened to it! How odd. Have you?
Of course it’s by H.R. Giger! He also directed
two videos for this album, holy shit -
how have I never seen these before?
Crazy. I feel a Coilhouse post coming on!
Oh, and lest I forget – the time is nigh for winter perfumes, my darlings!
I discovered Messe de Minuit by Etro, and wear it nearly everyday.
It smells divine mixed with CB I Hate Perfume’s Burning Leaves,
with a touch of Wild Hunt. Messe de Minuit = Midnight Mass,
and for me that conjures images of abandoned churches,
Satanic rites, sexy witches, and freaky monks. Also, Hexmas!
You gotta love Etro’s own rather purple description:
“The magic flute that conquers darkness.
A boys’ choir on Christmas night.
The gleam of a Templar sword.
Alchemy and perfume, the perpetual oscillation
that lulls Merlin to sleep in the forest of Broceliande.
Messe de Minuit is primarily incense tempered
by notes of vanilla, myrrh, and cinnamon.
Woody and spicy, it is a mystical escape
from the ordinary male stereotype.”
Oh, really? Phallic much?
The main notes are:
Orange, bergamot, tangerine,
labdanum, incense, myrrh, cinnamon,
patchouli, honey, amber, musk, vanilla
There are a lot of conflicting reviews about
this one, and they’re all worth reading:
“Snow is the most dramatic and exciting aspect
of winter in the Northern hemisphere,
dressing the world with a white gown of sparkling snowflakes.
Fête d’Hiver is my winter fantasy, with fluffy powdery snow
on a fur collar, and burning incense and cedar in the fireplace
in a little cabin in the middle of the woods.
Her brother, Bois d’Hiver smells like bringing in a fir tree
along with a trail of cold snow air from outside.
Both perfumes have a foundation of frankincense, myrrh and amber,
and have enough spices and orange peel to make them smell
almost like pomander, mulled wine and church incense.
But in both cases I tried to stay away from the usual
holiday clichés by adding a little twist: rose and gardenia notes
in Fête d’Hiver, and orange blossom and fir absolute in Bois d’Hiver.”
-by Ayala Sender of Ayala Moriel Parfums
I’m intrigued by Ayala Moriel’s
winter scents, especially from her description
found at the Scented Salamander’s winter and fall
perfumes post. I return to that one again and again:
I love reading about Christopher Brosius’
wintery concoctions. I’m really craving his Gingerbread
perfume, and wondering why I haven’t ordered
any yet! His Winter 1972 calls to me also -
it’s the scent of “fields of untouched new fallen snow,
hand knit woolen mittens covered with frost,
a hint of frozen forest & sleeping earth”
What are you wearing now that the
weather’s turned blustery?