In Which I Am Feeling Goth

It happens once in a while - and it happens especially often in autumn, when the weather finally turns chilly and weepy, and it becomes blindingly obvious that summer is indeed over despite irrational hopes to the contrary - that I turn the proverbial street corner and the feeling of absurdity strikes me in the face. Or, to use plain language, that out of nowhere, for no particularly rational reason, I feel dispirited, desolate, alone in the world... When it does seem quite true that "every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness, and dies by chance" (Sartre) and that "life is dark, life is sad, all is not well, and most people you meet will try to hurt you." (Voltaire) I call times like that my Goth days. The allegedly dramatic Russian blood might be to blame here, but on days like that I do tend to wallow in my misery. On an aggressively melancholy day like today, a typical comfort scent just wouldn't do. The very idea of wearing a comfy fluffernutter like White Aoud or Barbara Bui or Stoned or a smugly tranquil aroma like Miyako or Bois d'Argent or Eau Noire seems offensive. I feel tragic and I will not be comforted, darn it! On moments like these, I need a scent that doesn't attempt to hearten or soothe me but which will mirror my mood and be as somber and sulky as I am. The following are my Goth Perfumes. The one fragrance to which I most often turn during the dark times of the soul is my Goth Perfume Extraordinaire, Messe de Minuit. To use one of my favorite Douglas Adams quotations, Messe de Minuit's capacity for happiness, "you could fit into a matchbox without taking out the matches first"... and I love that. Bvlgari Black is always up for a bit of wallowing. Fluffy as it as (and as I said, fluffy is a no-no during Goth Days), its rubbery leather has the dark moodiness about it that is just perfect when one is feeling low. Wearing it is like being hugged by someone who loves you very much but who won't tell you the clichés about how everything passes and how time heals ...because he too knows that it doesn't. The Montale line offers a practically limitless choice of scents for Goth mood. White Aoud is a little too snuggly to be a wallowing companion, but most of other aouds suit my tenebrous mood to a t. The stormy depths of Black Oud, the sepulchral incense of Aoud Damascus or the forceful, dark sensuality of the leather note in Royal Oud, which I call Farenheit on Steroids, makes them perfect to wear with an all-black outfit and no smile. As far as non-aouds are concerned, a fellow perfume lover once called Greyland a fragrance Dementors would wear and, by gosh, she was right! Speaking of Fahrenheit, for reasons not entirely related to the composition itself, this striking leathery-floral blend is my trusted wallowing companion. In general, when I am being moody, I actively crave masculine scents, among them also M7, Gucci Homme, Czech & Speake No 88 and Egoiste. Perhaps they make me feel as if by wearing them I add an extra layer to my armor against the world. And finally, "dark rose" scents like the wonderfully nocturnal and rich chypres, L'Arte di Gucci and Rose de Nuit, like the impassioned Aoud Roses Petals and Aoud Flowers (see Montale), and, above all, like Malle's austere, gloriously grave Une Rose, satisfy my need for drama and turn Goth into Goth-chic. Are there any special scents that you tend to wear when you are feeling blue? Please share! Image source, vogue.de.