AN ODE TO A PERFUME (THAT DUMPED ME)

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Some time ago, I was able to finally get my hands on a copy of "How to be Parisian Wherever You Are." Right on the first page there's a list of life tips from these Parisian girls. Here's one that stood out to me:

Find "your" perfume before you turn thirty. Wear it for the next thirty years.

Can you see yourself doing that? It's a big commitment, huh? Well for me, this was actually a big thing. Every time I'd try to find a perfume I could enjoy in a beauty store, it would all end the same: me running out of there, samples deep in my bag (can't get rid of them in front of the person who's been kindly trying to help me find something suitable, can I...?) looking for the nearest toilet to finally wash my hands and get rid of all these odours that are giving me headaches already.

As you can tell, I have a very picky nose, and can't wear most perfumes –I get sick of them really, really, quick.

But then (queue the violins), I found it.

The one. "My" perfume. And it was beautiful.

It was called Nirvana Black, a perfume by The Row ( = by the Olsen twins) that took them 2 years to create! It's a perfume that's quite woody and actually borderlines a masculine scent. But still feminine and classy. Perfection.

Recently, I noticed that my bottle was on its last drops, so I was ready to purchase my 3rd bottle already. After almost 2 hours of national and international research, I came to the very sad realisation that, unless I was living in Sydney, where the only Australian Sephora is... that would be the end of our romance.

So long, Nirvana Black. It's a goodbye for now, but I promise I will always love you... and keep an eye for you.

Until then... I will keep searching for another "my perfume"!

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