It came to me recently why fragrances containing grapefruit notes pose such difficulties for me: without fail, they remind me of dieting.
Armed with a horror of plumpness left over from their own girdle-bound maidenhoods, our mothers ruthlessly surveyed us for signs of unruly growth. As we blossomed, they pinched us back. Impatient sighs issued forth whenever we ate ice cream (or licked our fingers); frazzled copies of the Pritikin and Scarsdale Diets magically appeared in our paths. Finally the offer came: wouldn't we like to share Mom's "special" meals? We gamely ate soft-boiled eggs (no butter!), dry squares of wheat toast (no jam!), carefully-measured half-cups of low-fat cottage cheese cradled by leaves of lettuce (iceberg only-- fewer calories than romaine). And if we still wanted dessert after all that… enter the grapefruit.
Halved and served without sugar or garnish, the grapefruit proclaimed the proverbial 'strait gate' traveled by the would-be slender girl. Who else would eat something so acerbic, so biting, so reluctant to give up its contents? The fact that it had its own custom tools of extraction declared its challenging nature-- we had to really work to eat it, and for our pains, we'd more often than not receive a mouthful of bitter pips or a painful squirt-in-the-eye. To prevent the exercise from seeming overly punitive, we could choose a "fancy" pink or red grapefruit over the everyday "white" variety… but a maraschino cherry for decoration?! Are you crazy? Those things are seven calories apiece!
Today I am a grownup, in charge of my dinner plate along with my destiny. While I've come to enjoy grapefruit, I rarely buy them at the store or order them in restaurants. I simply can't shake the opinion that they're the housewife's "austerity measure"-- an edible form of self-punishment for secretly wanting a sloppy ice-cream sundae. Their very scent is a guilt-provoking jolt-- and that's why I've largely avoided that note in perfume.
Why spoil one of life's most wonderful indulgences with the bitter smell of penance?
Tastes change, as do opinions. Little by little I've talked myself into sampling without shuddering. For the most part, the compositions which work best for me cast grapefruit as a supporting player rather than the center of attention. I'm not fond of it swizzled with caramel, but I will take it paired with sea breezes and fresh flowers. And if I'm in the mood for a confection to make up for all those skipped desserts years ago, I sniff Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Pamplelune (grapefruit sorbet) followed by Lavanila Vanilla Grapefruit (grapefruit panna cotta).
The point is, I've gradually come to terms with the persnickety pamplemousse. If I feel any guilt now, it's because I didn't give this note the chance it deserved.
Here are a couple of Citrus x paradisi fragrances that I credit for talking me around:
Citron de Vigne (Fresh)
A bright, true pink grapefruit essence whose astringent character is encouraged by tannic tea and red wine notes, this comes closest of all to the scent of a fresh grapefruit in hand. Imagine laboriously working a thumbnail under the pliant peel… the stickiness of the peel essence on your palm, followed by the sting of juice… the cottony texture of the bitter pith… the pink inner flesh veiled but visible… Now pour yourself a garnet glass of Pinot Noir and get ready for a refreshing, mouth-puckering treat.
Oyédo (Diptyque)
For this grapefruit maceration, substitute a half-and-half mix of kiddie grape juice and Jarritos Tamarindo for the red wine, and throw in a bunch of fresh thyme. It sounds like it could be a mess, but somehow it achieves a crazy balance. I prefer the savory drydown to the supersweet opening, but patience being a virtue, the wait is well-justified.
Okay, okay. So, as a mutual of yours and hopefully your future perfum-shopping-buddy, here's my narcisstic request : based on your perception of my persona, which perfume (perfumes) would you recommend/buy for me? (along with descriptions because well, half of the pleasure in this is your scent-prose, frankly)
For you, a cooler, sharper fragrance, something reminiscent of white woods and freshly cut herbs but also lemons, oranges, and general citrusy scents. Atrium Vestae is full of sharp words, sudden and inexplicable changes in prose, hints of carelessly scattered magic. At the same time, it’s nostalgic, it’s yearning for another time. It’s a little like a Roman garden in springtime, with the sweetness of freshly cut rosemary. But a Roman garden also has the fresh beauty of lemon trees weighed down with fruit, the gentleness of pine and balsam in the air…
- Bellflower / Tangerine / Pink Pepper by Korres. The perfume is fresh but also confident, as suggested by the dash of pink pepper; the light floral heart is complemented by the elegant citrus of the tangerine and the vetiver.
- Oyédo by Diptyque, a fragrance I believe is the citrus lover’s paradise. However, it’s also an unusual citrus fragrance in that it combines the sharp, sour smell of citrus with the tangy, dark smell of tamarind. It’s also tempered with herbs such as thyme and mint, which save the citrus smell from being overwhelming.
