The Scent for a Lioness

By
Image
Photo: Sephora

Your hair just dries that way. You have a balcony off your bedroom, which is important for your mornings. You bask. Your perfume is Gold by Commodity.

Gold has the smell of molten juniper branches and a small fire fueled by the chipped heartwood of mature sandalwood trees, a bit of bergamot to give it a bright-light white heat. It lingers. Lingering is an essential quality to you in both scents and impressions.

The second you got it, your freckled nose detected camphor and Haitian vetiver and molten amber. It’s important to you that the amber is molten because you prefer to only interact with substances that are warm. Recently your apartment lost electricity for a night, but you didn’t notice until your neighbor mentioned it. You mostly use candles.

People tell you secrets they weren’t intending on telling you, but you rarely remember a detail so there are few consequences. Someone is always going in your direction and can definitely give you a ride. There’s a song written about you, but you actually don’t know that because you forgot you even knew someone in that band.

Your memory is selective. You’ve never networked. People are intimidated by you, even though you’ve never been anything but nice to anyone. You always offer to share your entrée first. You understand how to apply warmth. Your name has several silent vowels, though no one can remember which one, this doesn’t bother you at all. You are rarely bothered.

Skirts always fit you really well, and you don’t know how rare this is. You’ve never wandered into unflattering lighting. You always know a person who can give you a museum tour after-hours — you just can’t seem to make it when anything is open. You generally do not have a sense about how the life you lead is rare.

You found your aunt’s shearling coat from the ’70s right in time for last November. You lost it this November, which also feels like good timing. You only wear vintage fur, so no one can really criticize you for that even though everyone knows you love animals. People always ask you where you got your boots, but you can’t really answer because you kind of just find everything or it’s a gift, except for your perfume, which you got as a present to yourself because you couldn’t just wait around for someone​ to find it for you.

Buy It: $105 at Sephora

The Scent for a Lioness