Daisy-time

I have come across this quote from D.H. Lawrence:

And what’s romance? Usually, a nice little tale where you have everything as you like it, where rain never wets your jacket and gnats never bite your nose, and it’s always daisy-time.

So, even though the quote is contemptuous of romance (which is why it struck a chord – when it comes to writers, I am partial to a healthy dose of cynicism), it seems to designate daisies as emblems of happiness. They are dainty and pretty, rather like Daisy Buchanan, who was also lovely, but not foolish enough to be happy (“I hope she’ll be a fool – that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool”). Though not stupid, Daisy is shallow and effervescent, which is presumably what inspired Marc Jacobs to name his competent, but not terribly world-changing fruity floral Daisy. Or perhaps he came up with the name and concept first, and commissioned a suitably light-hearted scent. Whichever came first, there is no doubt that his brief was a success: Daisy is pleasant, unprepossessing and flighty, like a debutante. The rubber daisies, designed by Takashi Murakami, are a huge part of this perfume’s appeal, and a very canny marketing tool,  considering all the different variations you can buy. I have several, including Daisy I Do – a pendant that contains solid perfume.

I have also got another Marc Jacobs fragrance, Lola, that I mainly wanted for the bottle – it came out during my polka – dot phase, when I was particularly enamoured of that pattern and bought quite a few spotty clothes (it was also especially fashionable at the time, though I like it so much partly because it is timeless). The fragrance is a bit “meh” – it is fine, really, but wearing it is a bit like eating supermarket fish roe, when what you really fancy is some beluga caviar. But the bottle, as flamboyant as a ballroom dancer (“Her name was Lola, she was a dancer…”), makes up for it.

Speaking of the real thing: so much has been written about Chanel No.5, I shall just solipsistically say that I love it. But of all Chanel scents, Coco is the one that’s most “me”: I get more compliments when I wear Coco, than when I wear No.5. I have Coco Mademoiselle at the moment, but I do prefer the 1984 original, spicy and dusky, and I don’t care if it is terribly 80., like mullets and blue mascara. As I wear neither, I can at least have a few drops of Coco.