I absolutely adore the PotPourri scent, which takes me back through my sensory catalog of emotions, images, and fragrances of a life in reflection.....it's the memory of my Dad and the smell of leather and hide from the shoe repair shop where he often hung out to smoke cigarettes, drink beer and play cards with his friends when I was a little girl accompanying him on his Saturday afternoon "errands"; it's the memory of traveling by train in a darkened private lounge car through the Black Forest of Germany, my face pressed against the glass imagining medieval castles, babbling rivers flowing past soft and fragrant mossy rocks, and the heartache of a love-lorn princess waiting for her prince to return from battle; it's the smell of entering a Clockwork Orange themed party in an old California warehouse, illuminated by candlelight, soft laughter and background music as waiters silently pass hors oeuvres and drinks before the party really begins; and lastly - it's the fragrance that lingers long after the handsome, meticulously showered, shaved and groomed man with jet black hair wearing white pants, a white linen shirt, brown leather shoes and a gold Rolex steps off the elevator at the Four Seasons Hotel in Paris - leaving nothing behind but his fragrance and the shattered dreams of a single 30-something traveling the world solo.
