Scent Stories: Attimo

You can hear her long before you see her, the office automatically transforms from a place of ordered chaos to a place of order. Plain order. The fast paced clack clack clack of her black leather Feragammo pumps remind everyone that she's a woman on a mission. A woman with a job to get done and get done excellently. I met her on the very first day of my internship at the bank, I walked right up to her feeling self-confident and assured. After all, I had heard that she herself had made the selection of the top 5 candidates and I was one of them, I wanted to formally introduce myself, to tell her how grateful I was for the amazing opportunity she had granted me. She didn't even notice me, she breezed straight past me clack clack clack, leaving a flurry of personal assistants and other subordinates in her wake, everyone wanting to say something or the other to prove themselves.

Disappointed as I was I was strangely elated. Surely being in the presence of such a great woman could only mean greatness for me. I was determined to follow her lead and emulate her in any and every way that I could. I even traded my flat black shoes for low-heeled pumps so I could also practice the clack clack clack that seemed to scream authority. I listened to her speak and saw the way she dealt with high end clients in a manner that was at once firm and feminine. I never knew such a compromise existed, all through business school I had been taught to be tough, to think and act like a man whenever possible yet here she was, the perfect blend of stern and sexy. 

During my three months at the bank, I got to see her a few times and physically be in her presence even less. She seemed to never be in the country, one day China the next Hong Kong and then sometimes America. On the last day I was giving a presentation to some management when she walked in to the meeting room. Apparently some half-wit had double booked the room. Instead of kicking us out though she decided she would quite like to listen to all the presentations her interns had to give and choose who should be offered the graduate role. My heart stopped beating for a moment and then fired up instantly. Here she was, in her Feragammo pumps and her Birkin bag wanting to listen to us, to me! I looked at her and instead of being met with the cold eyes I had come to expect, she smiled warmly and said "How would you like to go first Aisha?" The fact alone that she knew my name made me feel on top of the world and I was glad I was dressed appropriately and with minimal make-up unlike Selena who was now fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.

After the presentation she called me outside saying "Attimo, prego". Then and there, I got the job!

Scent Stories: Si

My girlfriend once asked me to describe what I found most attractive about her. We had only ben dating for six months at the time and truth be told, I was at a loss for words. I wasn't sure how she would respond if I told her the truth. That I liked the way her naturally curly hair frazzled again as soon as she was done straightening it. Or whether I should admit to her that I loved the way she smelt after she showered and had a fag like she did every morning. The combination of shower gel, body cream and tobacco binding into an impossible to describe smell that turned my head this way and that. Or even that I loved her smile and her laugh; loved to see the way that her full lips parted to reveal the gap in her teeth where no doubt she had hidden my heart. I could not admit to her all those things, no matter how true. It had only been six months!! and I was not usuallly one to fall in love so fast. So instead I looked at her and said with what I imagined to be a cheeky boyish grin "Your arse." She was not amused. Her mood dropped from 100 to subzero and no matter how hard I pleaded, teased and joked, she was not having it. She curled up on a sofa with a book, pretending to be deeply engaged but I knew she was hurt. I was again at a loss for words, well not really.. but to reveal my true feelings would be to make myself vulnerable to her. A scary feeling that I was sure I never wanted to experience. Luckily I eventurlly won her back with charm and pleading and joking and teasing. That was another thing I loved about her; her headstrongness if that's even a word. It was sometimes all too easy to forget how stubborn she was and how she sometimes held on to things a little too long. Such was the sweetness of her that small flaws could easily be ignored.

It's been three and a half years since she asked me that question and with everyday that passes I wish she would ask me again, just so that I can admit to her my innermost feelings. Of course she knows I love her, no one in their right mind could doubt that. We're walking through a park now enjoying the cool autumn's breeze and sighting a good spot to sit down for a picnic. She looks beautiful as always and keep scolding me for putting my hands in my pockets instead of around her waist where they should be. If only she knew the weight of what I was struggling to conceal. We ate under the shade of a tree, its leaves starting to turn the colours of sunrises and sunsets. I turned to face her and look into her eyes, the moment felt right. I was completely ready to let the vulnerability in, to fall into her like the leaves gently floating down from the autumn trees. I told her I found her hair attractive and I loved her laugh and her scent drove me insane but most of all I told her that I was sure I wanted to spend the rest of my entire life with her. I asked her to be my wife, right there and then under the oak tree, sitting face to face. Me with the ring finally free from my pocket and her with her brown eyes turning a liquid gold with tears. Her answer was a simple whispered "Si". So soft I almost missed it.

Scent Stories: Candy

I will always hold dear the memory of my little girl running down the staircase of our rather small house somewhere in the city as she heard the front door unlock. "Daddy! Daddy!" she would scream and her tiny arms would wrap themselves around my leg and hold on tight as if willing me to never go to work again. I would pick her up and throw her up in the air a few times and tickle her till she squealed, her mouth open in laughter displaying her missing front tooth. My wife would always be closely behind her, cautioning her not to run down the steps but she never listened and each day at 7pm, my baby girl ran down the staircase and into my arms.

I was her world, her superhero called "Daddy" who could lift her in the air and throw her up, high enough that she could fly and catch herself a shining star. Even when she was way too big to be lifted up high she would still run down the stairs everyday for a kiss on the cheek and a tight hug. It became our own daily ritual, the same way my wife and I often drank coffee together in the mornings before I set off and she stayed home. My daughter and I would meet at the front door and share a hug and fill each other in on our days until my wife called for dinner. The stories I heard evolved from best friends at nursery to difficult subjects and sometimes even crushes and boyfriends. She was the centre of my world; bright and bubbly with infectious laughter she got from her mum.

They say you never notice the hours turning into days turning into years and I must admit that it's true because although I always noticed the time passing by and I noticed her getting bigger and heavier, I never noticed my daughter turning into the beautiful young lady she is now. So now as she squeezes her arm tightly against mine as we walk into the grand cathedral, I cannot help but tear up but I don't let the tears fall. I try to look at her to see if she’s transformed. Perhaps her mousy brown hair has all of a sudden turned blonde, or the beauty spot above her left eye has disappeared. We reach the altar where my son-in-law to be stands and waits for his bride and I look into my daughter’s face and see it has changed, the once chubby cheeks have now transformed into contoured lines but it has also remain the same, her eyes are still the brightest shade of blue. She mouths to me “I love you Daddy” as she releases my hand but all I can see through my silent tears are the Candy-coloured petals of the flowers in the bouquet she's holding.

Scent Stories: La Petit Robe Noire

She slinks across the room, not one foot after another like all the other common folk around her. No. She glides on the surface of the dirty woodwork, barely making a sound, nothing short of feline. Whenever she begins to move, everyone round her stops, conversations dissipate and turn into whispers. Those who watch her usually start starting at her from the bottom up, defying gravity. Her legs always seem to stretch on for miles and miles. Legs that start with red-painted toe nails on dainty little feet in sky high heels. If you so happened to be directly in her path, she looked to you like a living Barbie doll; long legs, slim waist slightly pinched inwards in the middle and long birdlike graceful arms adorned only with the simplest jewellery. A watch and a bracelet maybe. Hardly any more. Her hair was left to do as it pleased, intentional beach wave curls to give the illusion of one who did not take to much time to reach such a high level of sophistication. Her features all seemed so small and dainty. All except her eyes which seemed to be like a dam, holding back a river full of secrets. Everyone watched her when she walked through the clubs, dancers ceasing their up-tempo, off-beat gyrations and giving way, the air filled with both envy and desire. She rarely ever speaks, just looks out onto the world with those river dam eyes.

Should you ever have the chance to stop her, to be near enough to her to speak with her without her entourage cutting in then there's only one question worth asking; "How does something so beautiful survive in such a dark place?" To which she might answer "There's always the faint hint of something pungent, even in the sweetest of smells." Or she might look upon you with her full kohl-lined eyes and show you that sweetness is just a facade, yielding to many more layers carefully covered up. And still, she might ignore you, pretend she never heard your question. Long after she is gone, you might find yourself wondering if the encounter was even real, did you really see the infamous club owners daughter? Her petit robe noire et talons hauts? Maybe you did maybe you didn't, for she is gone as silently as she came, never lingering but always the same.

Presenting "Scent Stories": A miniseries

So to the people that know me personally I'm sure it will come as no surprise that I decided to do a whole miniseries on perfume! I love perfume and various scents and I'm not sure when this love started all I know is that it's done nothing but cultivate a bad perfume-buying habit in me! Lol. The last time I went through duty-free was the very first time that I didn't but myself a new fragrance and it wasn't for a lack of trying but for a lack of time!

When I was packing up my flat in Manchester at the end of last year an idea to do something with all the scents I currently owned came to me and I thought; why not try and describe in words the way each of the perfumes made me feel? Or what I felt they embodied. I decided not to do a story on every single perfume I have ever or currently owned because the list would have been endless so I narrowed down my cast to 7 characters.

Presenting to you..... Scent Stories!

Starring in no particular order:

Prada- Candy

Britney Spears- Twisted Fantasy

Guerlain- La Petite Robe Noire

D&G- The One

Chanel- Coco Mademoiselle

Ferragmo- Attimo

Armani- Si

The plan is to have a different story come out every day from this Sunday till I'm all out of characters, they're going to be quite short and unrelated to one another which is why I've called it a miniseries. I really do hope you enjoy it because I love drawing inspiration from all around me and have many more ideas to come. See you on Sunday and don't forget to share and follow if you enjoy :)

Reni xx

Gone Girl Review: Read with Reni

So the month is over now and that means the review of Gone Girl is now due. Let's hop straight to it shall we. Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn is hands down the most intriguing book I've read this year. And I know you're probably thinking "Calm down Reni, you've only read like 2 books..." But that's not entirely true, I've read tons this year already, it's pretty much all I do with my time these days. I really don't want to give too much away because it's one of those books that's absolutely ruined if the plot is given away.

So what's it about? It's about a man Nick Dunne whose wife, Amy suddenly goes missing with no clues, mixed messages and of course the prime suspect is none other than her husband. It's told equally from both their vantage points with alternating chapters for each of them. It's so full of twists, turns, dead ends and horrifying betrayals and revelations and I think the writing is just brilliant.

"I've suffered betrayal with all five senses."- Amy Dunne

I'm not really a fan of mystery novels but this is definitely not your typical mystery, it doesn't follow the regular flow of events and I think that's what makes it all the better. I've never read any of Gillian Flynn's other novels and so I can't really say whether or not this type of literary genius is the norm for her or not but I would definitely be reading more in the near future.

It seems to have an underlying theme of "What do we really know about each other?" running through the entire prose not only between the husband and wife but through their relationships with everyone around them and that was a little scary for me and made me think quite deeply about how much I truly know about my friends. 

"Tell me. What can it hurt, tell me everything, because you and I can't go forward with this pretend story."- Nick Dunne

It tells a very true story about how very often, guys and girls alike pretend to be a different version of themselves to try and impress members of the opposite sex but of course this is never ever sustainable. Unfortunately, or not, we only know as much information about a person as they offer to give us and some times there's no way of verifying if this is the true version of themselves or one of their many characters.

"Pretty soon Cool Girl became the standard girl [....] Every girl was supposed to be this girl, and if you weren't, then there was something wrong with you."- Amy Dunne

It also shows how the dynamics of relationships change as time goes by and as people are confronted with things they never thought they would have to face.

"There's something disturbing about recalling a warm memory and feeling utterly cold."- Nick Dunne

All in all I'd describe the book as very realistic, it shows the flaws in human relationships and the lengths some people would go to to make sure that they are understood and appreciated. Of course not everyone goes to the extreme but I can't really say much more without ruining the book so I'd stop there.

Did anyone else read it? If you've written a review to it recently or in the past then feel free to link below or drop a comment and let me know what you thought of it.

The book for April is "On Black Sisters' Street" by Chika Unigwe. Buy it, download it, borrow it... Just make sure you're reading with Reni ^_^

Reni xx