Yesterday I made an unsettling discovery whilst cleaning up and clearing out our master bathroom. Perfume. Half used, foul smelling, perfume. This may not seem so shocking to some, but I was utterly offended by myself, by the amount of money I had spent on alcohol mixed with fragrance, thrown in a little glass bottle. Most of them were from the ever enticing Victoria's Secret.....oh.....how my heart longs for silk and lace and all things girly! These little bottles of poison taunt me in the store, they call to me from their displays. "Try Me" they whisper.
I do, and I love, so I buy.
I spend the next few weeks smelling like a flower, until a new little bottle of poison calls to me, reaching for me as I casually browse the lip glosses. "Try Me" it urges.
It's happened like this for years.
My mother was allergic to perfume, so when I was old enough to move out, I perfumed it up like it was 1999. Now that I look back, the real me, the me that the Lord has me discovering lately, the me that I will be for the rest of my life (once I figure it all out) would have been happy with a simple bottle of rose oil from a small and struggling company, not a corporate giant. I'm publicly declaring that I will never waste another hard earned penny on a corporate giant's version of how we should smell. I will no longer smell like half of the women in America who buy Victoria's Secret perfume. I'm breaking the cycle.
Warm weather...polka dotted bathing suits...messy ponytails...bliss.
Sweet, giant strawberries from our local Madison ST Produce
We should all wear our movie star sunglasses...as soon as we wake up!
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