Most of you probably already know this, but last week Slumberhouse introduced a very special limited edition that sold out in preorder overnight. The fragrance is called Zahd, only 125 bottles will be produced, and it will never exist again after this initial run. Zahd’s inspirations were cranberry and red velvet, and the juice itself is the color of rubies, the rarest of the precious gems.
In my favorite Facebook fragrance group, response was divided into two camps: those who loved the idea, and those who were appalled by it. I fell firmly into the former camp, but the comment of a fragrance friend who fell into the latter gave me pause. To paraphrase him, “I have wasted more than enough time on unavailable people in my life; I don’t need to do the same for unavailable fragrances.”
I ordered a bottle of Zahd and I am not at all sorry, but this comment gave me serious pause. I have always been attracted to the unavailable, from records to men to accessories to fragrance. A good salesperson knows that there are certain buttons you push if you want to make a sale, and for me, that button is exclusive. If it is hand-made by blind Tibetan monks and only twelve of it exist in the world, I will find a way to get one. Sometimes I think the chase is the whole point of this obsession for me.
The rational side of my brain knows that exclusivity does not mean quality, though advance word on Zahd is that it is heartbreaking. And if I do love it, then there will come a time when I use it up and can’t get any more.
I have determined that for me, the ephemeral nature of the fragrance will make the experience more poignant, and I have decided that hoarding fragrances (which I am prone to myself) is indicative of a fear of death. For me, Zahd is a way of acknowledging that we all have limited time on this earth and it is our duty to enjoy it to the fullest and let things go with grace when we must.
Today on CaFleureBon I am reviewing another exclusive fragrance, Pierre Guillaume’s L’Oiseau de Nuit, with a giveaway for a generous decant courtesy of one of my favorite fragrance boutiques, Osswald NY. Oddly enough, exclusivity was not a factor in my purchase because I was unaware of the scent’s limited availability at the time. I simply bought what smelled the best to me (in a store full of Amouage and Roja Dove et al), and now I am joining the voices crying for it to be added to the permanent Parfumerie Generale collection, because it is so lovely I want everyone to get a chance to experience it. Where do you stand on the issue of exclusivity?