The Mistress and her Cheap Perfume

Dear Nixie,

Recently I ran into a friend of a friend’s cousin once removed who was the sister-in-law of a woman who owns the deli near us, who is best friends with this other woman who happened to meet, in a supermarket queue, another lady who has been having a terrible time revisiting aspects of her forbidden past. It’s really some advice I might need for her, not so much for myself and the reason I come here to seek answers. Please note, it has nothing whatsoever to do with me and the woman in question wishes to remain forever anonymous for fear of an invasive media free for all. It was many moons ago, her wild love affair with a rock star, a very famous and world renowned rock star. You see, becoming the muse of his main body of work has not been all a “bed of roses.” Oh sure, he might have been living on a prayer, he might have been having a nice day, he might have been alive in a blaze of glory but perhaps it was in fact he who gave love a bad name, not the other way round. The main beef she had with Mr Rock and Roll – Hall of Fame was in reference to her “cheap perfume”, some nightmare inducing “blonde”, he said, and his making a mockery of her humble life

“laughing so hard he almost cried.” Well, I’m here to say that not everyone can afford to live on the wild side and be a “Sauvage” like Mr Johnny Depp and you cannot always very well say “Si” as Cate Blanchett might be able to say at the Perfumery. Not everyone is made of money of course. I mean after all, he could always have sent her a few cases of Chloe himself if he was too unaccustomed to the scent of Impulse. She was shovelling chips in a fast food outlet at the time, a young girl, living off nothing much and practically studying by candlelight (well at least on the night there was a blackout). At the very least he could have called her “My little impish vixen - Impy Impulse,” made the best of it you know. Oh no, none of that occurred, did it now. The trouble is, the woman in question, hears his music over and over and over like a dagger to the soul. Whatever should we do for her?

Yours

Impy. D.E.Odorant

Dear Impy,

Well it seems there’s more than one of the famous brigade who are svelte on manners. By god, that poor woman. Cheap perfume huh? Hmmm, oh dear. Well I have it from a reputable source, that is, my deceased third cousin’s hairdressers, great granddaughter’s swim instructor who happened to run into the man in question’s doctor’s friend says that he didn’t necessarily come up all roses himself. That bed of nails caused so many puncture wounds it’s taken years for him to recover, including several skin grafts and cosmetic surgery to the back. Impy, the Italian Stallion has his own battle scars. Now hold your head up high and don’t be sinking too soon. Your secret’s safe with me. You are your own Saint (Laurent). Perhaps he was wearing a little too much “Brut” on that particular day hey?

On the subject of scent just remember this;

“Forgiveness is the scent that the violet leaves on the heel that crushes it…” Mark Twain

Yours,

Nixie

Dear Nixie,

No! He shant be forgiven and I’ve a carton of Old Spice headed his way. Cheap perfume hey? I’ll show him some cheap perfume alright. And anyway like Huckelberry, some folks just don’t really want to be civilised by airs and graces anyway.

Yours,

Impy.

Dear Impy,

Take hold of yourself. Go out and smell the earth after rain, cut grass, burning coals, vanilla beans and freshly brewed coffee , popcorn popping against the thrill of a screen, the morning ocean with lashings of salt thick at the tide, old books musty and laden with the juicy guts of history and wild memories….take your clothes fresh from the line and bury your face in begin again, make friends with a car sales man and sit in a new car for a minute or two, tear apart a bunch of mint leaves with your bare fingertips and suck it right up your nostrils with conviction, sautee some garlic and turn yourself into the best god dam bloodhound there is, take a walk in a forest with pine or Eucalyptus and breathe, just breathe and breathe it all in…. light a match and remember the smell of a brighter day, go to a nursery and bend to the bow of nature’s real deal call. Now That’s just the tip of the iceberg too. We are not, all of us infallible alive on an unsinkable ship. All of us must go one day but my dear until then hold on for dear life, hold onto life or a bedhead if you must, whatever it does take. Never give up darling….

Yours truly,

Nixie.