About eleven years ago, I took part in a beauty product review website. At that time, that site was cleverly mining customer critiques for profit; it then was able to go corporate, very corporate, very quickly. This “place” was afloat with unemployed women, mostly makeup artists; college students with too much money to spend; what has now become known as the typical spate of faceless, snarky, hateful online bullies; and various sorts of troubled gentle souls, looking for a way out of recession, depression, and the dulls of life.
I was looking for downtime from my writing of THE DAWN. That downtime proved to be informative, productive, inspiring, exhilarating, and frequently infuriating. The infuriation was due to the gross number of gross and very young females who had infiltrated this online business to jeer at Grandma, the grand dames of the cosmetics and perfume world that those “young” non-ladies would never be. I took just about enough of the anonymous antics from these juvenile crabapples; and then I posted a review of one of my favorite perfumes. It is a scent those diva dogs detested. This particular opinion piece did not take long to compose because I was experiencing a measurable amount of pique whilst writing it! On that website, I went by the alias “Novelist” because I was, indeed, writing a novel! And I felt no compunction about NOT being anonymous.
That next day, Dear Daughter breezily, but proudly, informed “Mom” that her opinion post had become the top review of the week because of having gotten so many clicks and positive “help” upticks. I laughed because my penned response had been prompted by the dozens of 18-28 year-old-girls on that site who vehemently detested those dreaded “old lady smells”, anything that reminded them of “Grandma”, and remotely resembled a “powdery scent.” Those gals scornfully and callously mocked the root beer color, the shape of the bottle, and the stupid bow of this “old lady” perfume. The level of disdain and catty derision coming from that online, under-30-crowd of damsels toward “older women” was appalling. Such vicious verbiage and crass attitudes toward any kind of granny-powdery smell helped me to better acknowledge and appreciate my own olfactory choices, including baby powder.
Those girls blamed the much reviled and litigated J&J Baby Powder for destruction of the planet, and their ovaries. I was not too sure which sphere meant more to those soured sirens of eco-politics. I did, nonetheless, decide to stop buying globalist corporate products, and go with smaller brands, locally manufactured. The blindness of those girls to so much of life opened my eyes to more of my own life. I’ve since discarded J&J and found a small vendor in Vermont of its own baby-powder lotion; it’s a delightful experience every time I use it! I’ve also come to realize that those petulant, pushy, infantile, unripe but already rotten girls composed a first wave of online bullies: “I’m on the Internet and I can (anonymously) say whatever I like!” Maybe. But I am not anonymous, and I’m going to have my say too. And you can’t stop me. The following 5.0 Star rating and review for Youth Dew got 5 stars for me during that week of the long-ago. I then felt a lot more confident in continuing my journey of writing THE DAWN.
5.0 Stars From Novelist First, a little history of my years with this perfume. About 15 years ago, when I was so young -- I was at a school function and got a whiff of a delightful and warm fragrance. I asked the woman the name of her perfume; she said, "Youth Dew." I'd never heard of it. This gal was about 10 years younger than me so I thought it was a new fragrance for younger women; that type of marketing was just beginning. back then in the mid-1990's. I asked my hairdresser about it and she said it was her favorite perfume. My hairdresser was my age. So I went to the dept. store and tried it, and fell in love. It looked like root beer in an adorable bottle with the gold bow, so sweet! At that time, I wore (and still wear) Ombre Rose and Old Spice (got the biggest reaction from men from this classic scent whose ruination I am still grieving). So I added Youth Dew to my small perfume collection. Then my hormones began their circus act when I hit my mid-40's and perfumes did not smell the same on me, for me, to me. I took a seven year break, and when I returned to some semblance of body chemistry sanity, I took a whiff of Youth Dew and fell in love all over again.
This fragrance is not for younger women, and by younger I mean anyone under thirty. It is a scent for a female who has lived life more than a little, and is treasuring the memories of her youth, although she may still be very youthful. Fragrance is ALL about memories; you are either recalling them, evoking them, or making them. Youth Dew is evocative, and it takes some time on this earth to evoke things worthwhile. The scent to me is warm, sweet, spicy, with a touch of leather and a lushness all its own which I find somewhat embracing. My husband loves it. One saleswoman in the perfume section of a high-end department store adored it on me, was certain it was Chanel, and was amazed it was humble Estee Lauder Youth Dew. She said on me it was very very nice. I tend toward spicy powdery ambery scents, and I think that my chemistry just naturally agrees with a perfume like Youth Dew.
Do not bathe yourself in it because a little is all you need. There is a bit of moss to tone down the spicy floral scent, and I find the total experience of wearing it throughout the day and into the night (it will last till the next morning) a very sensual feeling, but not in a harsh way. It soothes me but also stimulates me. Perfume is such an individual matter that I recommend it only with certain caveats: not for girls, not for grumpy gals, not for women who are too busy to sit back and savour the dew of youth. I was raised among old ladies, and among old women who were not ladies, and I never inhaled anything this lovely in their presence. I am almost through my latest bottle, and plan to repurchase eau de parfum in the spring. This past autumn, I somehow lost that adorable little bow whilst unpacking that half-filled bottle in my new house! Another youth-filled purchase is in order!