Whiskey is one of the most beautiful signifiers, with the -e- of course. The idea of it only pleases: the rich amber, the staying heat at the apse of your throat, the way it heterogenizes as it runs across your tongue. The names of the characteristics are themselves poetic: tobacco leaves, cigar ashes, coal leather, smoked tea, lemon, toffee (this describes the Laphroaig 10 year, should you decide to add to your collection soon). Surprisingly, its complexity is one that cannot be tampered with: a spiced whiskey, for example, will never be as memorable.
Today D and I traveled a familiar path together, in and out of the shops on St-Laurent. We found two colognes that I’ve fast become infatuated with; here are the respective notes, so you can imagine for yourself (both are Comme des Garçons):
2 MAN Notes
incense, white smoke, saffron flowers, nutmeg, vetiver roots, mahogany, leather
Madagascan pepper, bergamot, Somalian incense, nutmeg, Cristalon, Cashmeran, guaiac wood, cedarwood, caraway seeds, Javanol, sandalwood, vetiver, oud
The discourse involved in choosing a perfume is so specific. It has a time of day (for dim-lit lounges or everyday encounters?), a season (rarely do I agree with the assessment – I think the appropriateness changes by day), a demographic. D asks me, is this me? and suddenly, personality becomes unitary – I can know in a single second whether a possible addition does or does not belong.
Essential or existential, I can’t let go of the notion of taste, if only for the curiosity it instills in me.