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Byline: Linda Wells, Editor in Chief
At a cosmetics company in the Midwest (yes, they exist), I was invited to create my own fragrance from little brown bottles of essential oil. The company's head perfumer, a Frenchman, watched in Gallic amusement as I sniffed and poured clumsily. Bergamot oil, orange flower, amber, mimosa. What can I say? I had a plane to catch, and all I could think about was not spending the night at the airport Hilton.
I made the fragrance and the plane. Several months later, I received a box holding three unadorned glass bottles labeled "Linda's Bouquet." Let me assure you, this was no bouquet. This was an odor. Imagine dabbing Mr. Clean on your pulse points, and you get the idea.
Custom fragrance, custom dresses, custom lipstick and sneakerseverything you read says that personalization is the next big thing. Only experience may kill the trend.
Years ago, when I didn't know better, I worked with a dressmaker to come up with what I envisioned as the perfect evening suit. After several meetings and numerous misunderstandings, I was the owner of a gold-lace jacket with filigree buttons and a matching too-short skirt. It would have been ideal if I were the mother of the bride ...