Scent of a Woman

This week saw me at fabulous cocktailerie The East Room for a wine tasting in conjunction with perfumier Miller Harris, of whom I'm a huge fan (those beautiful bottles! The lovely names! The fact that they don't even advertise at all, therefore can never have simpery Keira Knightley trying to flog me their wares!) Seemed like a bit of an odd tie-up, but actually it worked very well. It seemed to work better as the evening went on, largely because I hadn't had much lunch, there wasn't any food on offer (what with it being a wine tasting evening an' all), throwing it away seemed wasteful (a current obsession) and so I got fairly hammered.

High points of the evening - the friend who'd invited me meeting me at Old Street station, having been to Selfridges and annointed herself with a large spritz of rival perfume maven Jo Malone's fabulously saucy Pomegranate Noir. And brandishing a massive, very distinctive bag of said product, which luckily all the Miller Harris staffers were too polite to mention. Then having the MH perfume that I usually wear described by one of their reps as being 'buttoned-up sexy', which elicited a huge laugh from both my friend and I, before we both agreed that it was an entirely accurate description of me. I promptly ordered another bottle, and plotted how to make the specs-and-cardi librarian look the most desirable thing since the Jimmy Choo collection for H&M during 2010.