In the past I said more than once that I wouldn’t mind paying more per milliliter for a perfume released by a brand in a smaller bottle (and I prompted brands to do so every chance I got). And I haven’t changed my mind since: many brands put a lot of efforts into each small detail of their creations, and I would love to have perfumes I want to use as a “full package” – with an original bottle and even a box. What I didn’t take into the consideration was a situation when I actually do not like the “big” bottle itself.
When I thought of getting Le Labo‘s Rose 31 perfume, I immediately decided against 100 ml (and even 50 ml) bottles since not only I didn’t need that amount of any perfume, I didn’t like Le Labo’s bottles at all. Their apothecary style with scientific labels just doesn’t appeal to me. 15 ml bottle would be a perfect size regardless of how the bottle looks (it’s not worse than a plain decanting atomizer, right?) – but with the price of a ml of Rose 31 from a small bottle being almost three times higher than the price of the same ml from the biggest bottle and two times higher if you calculate it based on the 100 ml bottle, I decided to go for a decant.
It was the second split in which I’d ever participated, and my collection was much smaller then, so I waited for it very anxiously. It arrived crashed – and so would have been my enthusiasm for splits if it weren’t for the very nice person who hosted the split: she offered to replace it and even absorbed the cost.
It all happened so fast – my excitement from getting the package, disappointment from seeing its content gone, and the relief after the great communication with the host of the split – that I felt a little exhausted and, without thinking straight, just sealed the remains of the decant bottle in the same envelope it came in and took it home. Later I realized I didn’t need it but a thick envelop soaked with 10 ml of potent Rose 31 smelled so good that instead of throwing it away I decided to put it into my linen closet.
My replacement decant arrived soon after that and joined the growing collection of perfumes. I wore Rose 31 once in a while and enjoyed it. Meanwhile the improvised freshener in my linen closet kept its smell for over a year – and I kept being amazed by that every time I would open the door… And then I noticed that choosing what to wear I would pass this perfume over thinking “I don’t feel like it today” and realized that it was happening because coming from the linen closet the scent became so mundane and unvarying that I didn’t envisage it as a personal perfume any longer.
Recently I came across an advice on making your linen closet smell fresh:
All you have to do is spray or dip cotton balls in your favorite scent and place them on the shelves of your storage space or linen closet.
This is a nifty little way to make sure your soft goods stay fresh. Plus, you’ll never have to place expensive air fresheners in the closet.
I chuckled at that “economical” advice calculating how many “expensive air fresheners” I could have bought for the price of Rose 31 decant – or any of “my favorite scents” to that matter. And that is not even counting punitive damages in the form of me not wearing that perfume.
Now, two years later, I enjoy Rose 31 again. I’m amazed that I liked it in the first place since both cumin and agarwood are the notes that rarely play nicely on my skin but somehow the combination of all the components in this perfume was just right. And the staying power of Rose 31 is amazing not only in the closed space of a linen closet. But something tells me I shouldn’t try Le Labo’s Laundry Detergent they offer in this scent.
Lorraine (Dear Scent Diary) has described Le Labo Rose 31 really close to how I smell it so if you haven’t tried it yet read her review.
Images: my own
Undina's Looking Glass 