Imitation of Life

 

I have been brought a wonderful gift from the other side of the world. A dear friend has been vacationing in Grenada, one of the Lesser Antilles, the Windward Islands that fall like a shower of shooting stars into the western Caribbean. On the map, Grenada is one of a string of jewels that form a crescent moon sparkling in the sea between Puerto Rico and South America.

 

And my present is gem-like too. It is a lei or necklace made of the principal wealth of Grenada: sweet-smelling spices. My garland is about 36″ long and structured with seeds, tiny gourds and a few scarlet beads strung on thread. But the principal glory of the necklace lies in its scent. Between the beads, as on a rosary, are strung larger ornaments: dried spices, cut and shaped like weird precious stones. Gnarled pebbles of root ginger, cloves like tiny fingers of black coral, bay leaves folded in the shape of fairy envelopes. There are pieces of cinnamon and whole nutmegs dabbed and daubed with painted raindrops. There are bits of pimento and sweety-buttery tonka and little twisty whirls which I have yet to identify. Possibly they are the arils of nutmeg which, when dried, become golden mace.

 

The magic of the thing…the perfume! The concept is so simple: the effect is so stunning. As I write I have the necklace hanging by my bed. It could be worn round the neck, but it is fragile. I might wear it on summer evenings to come, while sitting quiet and still in the garden. I’m thinking it would permeate my clothes, as it has the green and white cotton bag in which it travelled back to London. For now the string of treasures is suspended where it can catch the nearly-spring breeze from the window and boost my sleep hygiene.

 

The whole room is now gently but emphatically suffused by a sweet warm fragrance which seems to be gradually and deliciously invading the entire house. I am told that, as and when the spices start to fade, their scent can be revived by spraying them with a little warm water as one does with pot pourri.(Or I do, at any rate: it seems to work).

 

I wonder for how many centuries these wonderful necklaces have been made. For ever, I guess. In the West, too, we know that hollow or porous beads have often been used as perfume vehicles. Women in the ancient world filled clay beads with scent and hung them in their hair or their ears; or stitched them to their clothing. Marie Stuart went to the scaffold wearing a golden perforated rosary stuffed with ambergris: the odour of the sanctity of Catholic martyrdom.

 

Les Senteurs is filled with ‘les oiseaux des îles’: a flight of exotic fragrances that are inspired by various islands. They combine two contradictory yet complementary kinds of magic – a world in miniature surrounded by (usually) warm seas, plus an olfactory experience without limits.

 

“As on our shelves your beauteous eyes you bend”¤, your nose will whisk you off to Capri, the Virgin Islands, Corsica, Île Poupre, Sicily, the Seychelles and Jamaica. Revel in our stock of chypre perfumes, all paying homage to Cyprus the birthplace of Aphrodite. The goddess of love and desire was born from the waves of the Mediterranean and blown ashore at Cyprus in an aura of roses and spice.

 

“No man is an island”. Our entwined scents bring us all together in harmony. Further bonding may be achieved by a generous tot of aromatic Spiced Gold Rum – “a smooth warm spirit with rounded flavours of vanilla”. It tastes just the same as my necklace smells.

 

Cheers!

¤ with apologies to Susan M. Coolidge

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