As October unfolds its spicy and vivid enchantments, I find myself succumbing to the irresistible allure of this bewitched month. While delving into the depths of my old writings, I stumbled upon a piece composed many moons ago, a paean to a fragrance that has remained one of my enduring favorites – a creation by the esteemed House of Lancome, bearing the name Magie Noire. If you’ve read my musings for awhile, then you know that beautiful perfume is one of my passions, and Magie Noire is definitely passion elegantly bottled.
In the intervening years, the sands of time have gently sculpted me, imbuing me with the wisdom of age, tempering my passions, and curbing my recklessness. Consequently, from the beginning of September until the Thanksgiving feast, It has become my favorite ritual to perfume myself from head to toe with Magie Noire. Although the formula has undergone subtle transformations over the ages, it has not lost its innate ability to fervently awaken the senses and stoke the fires of passion.
In my great fortune, I found a man who possesses the rare temperament and passion required to handle a spirit as untamed as mine was. Every autumn, he gifts me a new bottle of this elixir, an aromatic testament to his love and understanding. Such a man, dear friends, is a treasure to cherish indeed.
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First published in Perfume Smellin Things in 2007
“I am a woman with a past. I've lived life with an insatiable hunger, often in my youth without the slightest shred of restraint. My spiritual inclinations lean more towards the heathen than the religious, and I wholeheartedly believe in magic.
Magie Noire entered my life during the tender years of my twenties, and I must confess that in my youthful naiveté, I was barely aware of its potency. It was gifted to me by a mysterious Scorpio woman, her eyes akin to a feline's, gleaming with a curious emerald hue. She held a position of power as the CEO of the sole woman-owned steel brokerage in Cleveland. With the perfume came a warning – she cautioned me, in hushed tones, that men would be ensnared by its spell. She advised me to tread cautiously when wearing it , for it was not the scent of love, but rather one of abandonment and passion. Wearing Magie Noire in its original incarnation was akin to summoning an ancient pagan spirit, a force from a bygone era that stirred unsettling sensations in the fragrant autumn breeze or sent shivers of an undeniably erotic nature down one's spine.
At first, it unveils itself in notes of honey and tuberose, intermingled with the essence of bergamot and raspberry and blackcurrant, hyacinth, and oriental rose add to its symphony. However, the true enchantment of Magie appears as the base notes of civet, patchouli, castoreum, and vetiver unfurl upon your skin, warming to their embrace. When worn with butter soft suede or leather, it transforms into a bewitching elixir. Blended with the very breath of a magnificent thoroughbred horse, it takes on an alluring, animalistic quality that borders on intoxication.
Think of Kim Novak in "Bell, Book and Candle," Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman, their wisdom deepened by their journey through "Practical Magic," and Catherine Deneuve in nearly any role she graces. This is not a fragrance for the ingenue; it is a perfume meant for a sensual, independent woman who comprehends and desires the spell it weaves. I stowed away my bottle of Magie Noire many years ago, reserving it only for the most extraordinary of occasions with my husband, who unabashedly adores it.
Yet, as the Autumnal Equinox approaches and the moon begins its ascent towards fullness, I made a decision yesterday to embark on a ride through the woods at dusk. The evening was a masterpiece painted in dappled light, and I indulged myself with a spritz of Magie Noire before setting forth. The air was thick with the scent of wind-fallen apples, and the scenery was simply breathtaking. As my horse, Henry, and I ventured toward the hunt field, he abruptly halted with a quiver that traversed his elegant sorrel neck. Emerging from the hedgerow was a cat, black as midnight and silent as a whisper. We turned and followed her along the path.
You see, I truly do believe in magic.”
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Thymeless Quotes: