As a longtime fragrance collector, I’d had this piece bookmarked to read for ages and finally got to it this morning. Under the Cloche is for the sort of person who doesn’t care about drawing a line between gourmand and gourmet. Kashina’s Instagram is definitely worth following: I take her posts in single doses, as a kind of sensory meditation, and each one makes me feel less guilty about my strange hoard of tiny samples, some of which go back to the late 70s when they were still issued in miniature decanters with crystal-cut stoppers (I inherited this compulsion, along with jewelry collecting and used book shopping, from the same long-gone fabulous broad). Here’s one excerpt from her Affidavit piece to tease you, but stop what you’re doing and go read the whole thing. Have a snack on hand for after.
Le Participe Passé by Serge Lutens. The larder opens further. Feathers and hearts out of foam, a caramelized milk mustache. Deep burnt toffee, lingering undissolved sugar granules, Demerara grit. Capuchin-robe and a teaspoon with a royal orb on top. Drink your espresso quickly at the bar, standing up. Why do tea leaves get all the glory of fortune-telling? There’s an outline of Morocco in the dregs, a slipper, a globe, a grinning rhesus. A good child’s stroop and sausage-links, an all-breakfasts delight, a Kilimanjaro of 49ers. Toast service. Skate on the sugar shack sirop d’érable ice mirror. Scale the flapjackery. Maple sluice. You could till a field singlehandedly with this under your belt. Paul Bunyan plus Babe the Blue Ox twinned. Wheaty-O-One. This out-breakfasts them all. Cröonchy Stars and cereal mascots. Who drinks the milk?“Under the Cloche” at Affidavit, by Kashina
Cultural Counsel teases that she has a book coming out and I’m certainly desperate to find it.