Shalimar Eau de Parfum by Guerlain: Beautiful; Spooky

Shalimar opens sparkling with lemons and bergamot. And there's something else that's a bit unsettling. But you ignore it. The abundant citrus is so stunning you actually have to sit down. The whole thing feels distant, like it's occurring in someone else's memory. And all you can do is sit there at your mirror and watch as the opera unfolds.

You note the rays of winter light coming softly through the blinds, filtered by layers of sheers and curtains. Like all the many layers you yourself are wrapped in. Properly dressed. What time is it? Yes, you feel about as far away as you can get from where you are when you wear this perfume. 

The late morning light shines on the items on your table, the cut glass decanter of Shalimar throwing prisms all around the room. The wind blows the leaves outside dappling sunlight in your windows like a silent film. You feel super faceted. But from the very start something has bothered you. And you realized something is–on fire? Is that a fire?    

Black smoke closes in and all you can imagine are the fiery orange colors and thickness and gravity of smoke. You hear the haunting notes of white ghosts and melting strings. Violins, oboes, rain drops. And then, just as quickly, this dissolves and changes and you wonder if you had imagined it all. 

All the actors leave the stage. And a strange, delicious incense steps forward, wafting loose arabesques up into the quietest reaches of the highest ceilings in the safest rooms with the longest windows in the world. And it's magic. And there you stand in your window holding your tea looking out at the traffic in the wet streets below. You, so safe up above. So safe. 

Later, as the incense extinguishes, a smoky, wordless vanilla emerges from the ashes. And you know, finally, that right now is perfect even as it is already over. And you are at last existential–without the crisis. You die laughing at the absurdity. If it's all so meaningless, then why is it all so beautiful? You watch the clouds move across the November sky. And you wonder, can any of this ever really be explained?