After laying low and skulking about (illness, lack of employment) I am ready to demonise the earth ONCE MORE with inane perfume talk! Yay, clap hands.
In the mood for breaking things, I decided today would be the perfect moment to break open a perfume snip. Immediate death (a snip is only good for one use, and barely gives out enough to warrant a vial) = good! The satisfaction of hearing the icicle snap of obsolescent plastene = good! Having a little crystal chunk of said artificial material embed in my finger = not so good, but it matched the spit 'n' bile mood.
I broke off both ends of my black-tipped Dark Brilliance (s)nip and wrote with the uric-acid yellow fluid on my arms. The consistency was slightly syrupy, and left a strange film on my skin. Thick incense and soap-flake smell, a wraith of something that has been imprisoned in plastic for the past 65 years.
It smells like it wants badly to be My Sin by Lanvin, but it has none of that narcotic slumberland oneirism. It smells like ironing out those oldtimey gel air fresheners that shrivelled like scrotums once they hit the 2-month mark.