It frightens me a little how fragile I appear to myself to be.

After taking care of my identity card issued over 11 years ago for over a decade, one slip and it's seemingly gone, together with my 18-month-old wallet, contained within, as well as the roughly $40 or so it contained and other miscellanous name and bank cards.

I cancelled all the functional bank cards within 24 hours.

I thought I would only be sad for a day or so, but it has been almost five days, and I have a little trouble keeping my sadness and vulnerability down, although I am still hopeful that an honest person has picked up my belongings and used the money enclosed to mail the item back to the address on my card.

And to console myself, I have to give gratitude for all the things I already have and may be taking for granted more than I should - a relatively high level of cash in my investment portfolios, free lodging and an ability honed over the past two years to survive on minimal food intake.

In fact, I have enjoyed free lodging for almost 86 consecutive months this February, spiting my 'parents' whom I belatedly discovered never wanted me at all and made me slave to their will all my life, wasting two decades of it unnecessarily in a soul-less place called Singapore after dictating that I had to study there in 1988.

In all, I have taken back an estimated $100,000 in costs forgone(lodging, food, petrol) as well as earned three times that in freelance income.

It's only a small proportion of the fortune inherited, but also squandered, by the evil man that brought me into this life, in casinos and stockmarkets throughout the '70s, '80s and '90s. Also, it offsets the substantial sum I spent paying for rental and food in a hostile, foreign country foisted on my against my wishes from 1999 - 2008.

It sounds mean, I know, but sometimes thinking in this way is the main thing that gets me through rough days with meagre income in unfavourable economic conditions!

I've gradually come to the realisation that I don't have to waste time wishing that person(s) ill, or hoping that he gets his comeuppance, because being ignorant of the fact that contemporary life is ever-changing and that one has to adopt new ideas and discard olds ones, at the age of 78, is punishment enough for that evil man!

Further ill-fortune will befall him in the years to come, I'm certain of it!

L'Heure Bleue, as close to heaven as it gets

Jacques Guerlain certainly knew what he was doing when he composed L'Heure Bleue.

In my mind the most beautiful fragrance in the world, it has been described by fans as 'breathtaking', 'haunting' and even 'ghostly'.

The closest thing I've read that comes to capturing this perfume's characteristics in words is written by Octavian Coifan of 1000fragrances, who, in his expert assessment, said:

'The main facets of L'Heure bleue are: orange flower (with methyl anthranilate), violet-orris, spicy, sweet & balsamic (heliotrope), woody (sandalwood) + some characteristic aspect (aromatic, rose, musky). It is a very complex perfume that has almost all the shades of the rainbow, from citrus to animalic.'

I would add that this scent tangos between the adjectives medicinal and spicy, without wandering too far in either direction. The methyl anthranilate may account for the former aspect, while the heliotrope, anise and tarragon could be responsible for the latter.

Never has a perfume wandered so far into candy la-la land without being in the least bit cloying(think Angel and Lolita Lempicka for epitomes of cloying!),nor has a perfume juggled mustiness and spiciness with as much aplomb as L'Heure Bleue.

The derelict attic mustiness(some people cite grandma's top drawer as a metaphor for this) is off-putting to some, but this one detraction is insufficient to outweigh the gourmand aspects of it.

Perhaps the powderiness of this fragrance(attributable to the iris and perhaps carnation) is somehow connected to the it's musty and dusky aspects.

My first encounter with this wonder was through a half-filled but sealed 1 oz bottle I purchased off the Quirkyfinds website.

The contents were a dusky red, almost bloodlike, and a whiff transported me to a centuries ago spice ship travelling in the Mediterranean. Laden with fragrant Moroccan spices and Persian candies, I saw the clear blue firmament above and couldn't help smiling.

It was the closest thing to heaven(or nirvana if you like) I could contemplate!

No other scent I have ever smelt before or since could achieve anything close to such an effect before or since.

In the same month, I chanced upon an almost-full 2 oz bottle for a great price, but only recently managed to pry it open to sample the juice. The familiar candied spiciness of the first bottle was there, but it had the most dubious longevity on my skin, such that I began to suspect dilution. Or at least, replacement of the original extrait with, perhaps, EDT.From this bottle, the C-12 aldehyde was evident, with a sharp opening that could have been emphasised by the bergamot.

Within 15 minutes, the violet-orris accord mentioned by Octavian dances to the fore, but the juice prominently lacks sillage, and becomes a skin scent for the next six hours, after which the vanilla and musk are only faintly discernible.

The eau de toilette,which I only have a smidgen of, smells almost entirely different. It's almost too sharp for my nostrils, with only a cursory curtsy to the extrait in the middle.

I was fortunate enough to acquire a rosebud amphore,half-filled with the blood red vintage juice,possibly from the late 50s or early 60s.The floral and gourmand aspects bloom fully from this precious liquid: neither sweetness or spiciness gain the upper hand, but simultaneously, the mustiness is very pronounced as well!

Like Mitsouko, vintage L'Heure Bleue doesn't shout but encases the wearer in a haze of nostalgia and old world beauty.

The world may have entered its own twilight and eventually consumed itself in the darkness of WWI, but this scent never held such an association to gloom for me.

Instead, it's one of the most hopeful and uplifting perfumes I've ever had the privilege to encounter!

Yet, the overall effect on most people I've gathered from perusing many postings and blogs is the effect Rachmaninov's 2nd Piano Concerto has on me:

The music and the perfume have the ability to morph and evoke one different emotion after another, surprising at every turn and mystifying at every corner.

Some people cry when they inhale L'Heure Bleue; I surmise that it could be because they could be thinking that this is the closest a man-made creation can come to something forged by the hand of God himself.

1 ml vials of vintage L'Heure Bleue extract are available at $15.99 per vial + shipping.E-mail zirdex@yahoo.com.sg to receive a Paypal invoice.

Post-Ed Gein,innocence lost,Cabochard gained

If there was one fragrance that could stun with its uncompromising imperturbility,it's a dark leather chypre named after the French word that roughly translated to 'obstinate pig-headedness'.

The year was 1959. It was less than two years since the horrifying crimes of a nondescript Wisconsin farmer named Ed Gein was laid bare before the world,and the innocent era of Doris Day and post-WWII tranquility was at and end.Perhaps the fashion house of Grès was trying to craft a worthy competitor to the shocking but successful smoky-and-leathery Bandit, but the dark and animalic nature of their choice of the inaugural perfume suited the changing times to a T(or perhaps to a G:).

Cabochard was a big hit.

But the fashion house ended up much like the last Gein victim, though decades later: carved up and disemboweled and eventually meeting an untimely end.


Alix Grès, the embodiment of the creativity of the house, would pass away in 1993, a year before the world would discover about her passing, apparently penniless in a nursing home and very nearly forgotten.


Her most successful fragrance would outlive the house, a testament to its appeal, though only a pale reflection of its former greatness.



Galbanum and bergamot comprise the opening act, with the leather note of isobutyl quinoline rejoinding strongly within the first hour.Vetiver and oakmoss play strong supporting roles, offering the image of a chain-smoking recalcitrant,rebellious woman. The animalic castoreum that emerges suggests that this person would not be averse to passionate lovemaking at the merest facial gesture.

Oh,and by the way, she would be on top.

I don't get much floral revelation from the wood-coloured vintage juice, despite the rumour that thousands of jasmine flowers and hundreds of roses go into a single ounce of it. Instead, it turns rather smoky in the middle,emanating a smell that I imagine a Cuban cigar would share.

A fascinating concoction that, after three weeks of testing and retesting, I am not truly able to decipher, if that's even possible at all.


But the existence of such an olfactory wonder tells me that a house need not have the long history and clout of Guerlain to come up with a fragrance that takes your breath away.

My rather large and rare 3.4 oz of extrait de parfum was bought sealed from a seller Down Under for under $50, a nearly unbelievable stroke of good fortune considering that since I had been eyeing this perfume in August, 2 ounce sealed bottles(with boxes) have gone under the hammer for up to $395.



I was instantly smitten with the flacon,with both the grey velvet bow and the frosted concave disk stopper juxtaposed in a most elegant design.


The dirty unwashed quality of the heart and drydown of Cabochard is very intriguing and magnetic indeed.


It's almost like Mitsouko redone, without the peachy undecalatone and piquant spices, infused with oodles of smoke and leather, with a dash of civet and castoreum thrown into the mix: wilder,more unrefined beauty, but no less elegant, suited to the newer age where it was fashionable for ladies to puff away in public.

Of course, Mitzi and Cabochard are almost totally different perfumes altogether, with the former being subtly sensual, while the latter being almost overtly carnal; perhaps I'm trying to link the two to elevate this Bernard Chant creation to the same status as that of Jacques Guerlain.


Fortunately for me, Cabochard seems to keep better than Mitsouko, despite the older dame's more distinguished pedigree!

Other verdicts of this legend range from 'sex in a bottle' to melancholic; if you're a strongly opinionated chypre fan like I am, then Cabochard may just be the fragrance for you!

1 ml vials of vintage Cabochard extract are available at $13.99 per vial + shipping.E-mail zirdex@yahoo.com.sg to receive a Paypal invoice.