The year is almost over. For those lucky souls who live in the moment, or who look ahead with hope and excitement, this time of year can be joyous. I’m the sort who glances back at the about-to-end year, who thinks of the good things the year brought and the things it took away. For me, New Year’s Day is always a pensive time, but in my last post of 2006, I’d like to keep things light, or should I say pink, and eulogize a frivolous thing: a candle.
In a cursory, fifth-grade art class, my teacher asked me, out of the blue, that dull question: “Kevin, what’s your favorite color?” Always wanting to be precise, I felt time quickly pass as my mind hunted for the right answer. Was it tangerine orange? Grass green? Or the blue-purple of my nicest wool sweater? “What’s that blue called?” I thought, “Gentian?” Finally, my eyes rested on my friend Meredith’s knit cap. It was pink and I liked pink, and pink was pink, so I said, “Pink”. No one laughed, not even the boys; but the teacher said: “Pink is for girls”. I didn’t flinch. I looked at the teacher and said to her, with all the sang-froid I could muster at age ten, “Orange then”.
The teacher didn’t know me very well, didn’t realize telling me that someone or something was “off-limits” or “crass” or “too fancy” or “sinful” or “unwearable”, or was in any way distasteful or risqué, was to send me running in that person’s or object’s or activity’s direction. My ’study’ of and eventual regard for pink was born out of being told it was Reserved — for girls.
Today, I am a big pink fan. I love walls and wood furniture painted with soft, dusty “Paris Pink.” I love the vibrant flamingo pinks of Maharajah’s silks and pink sapphires. I love the softest pink imaginable: the delicate winter-pink skins of Chinese red birch trees. Who can resist Fra Angelico’s enchanting pinks? (I know — many of the pinks one sees in Renaissance paintings are, in fact, faded reds, but doesn’t that attest to the power of pink to endure?)
I love to eat and drink pink: strawberry ice cream, watermelon, rose jelly, rosés, infused Russian vodkas, tinted pink with fresh raspberries or currants.
In my garden pink flowers reign: dahlias, daphnes, zinnias, cosmos, and, of course, clove-scented “pinks”. Shirley and Iceland poppies, in blushing conch-shell pinks and salmon shades, bloom in profusion in early summer. Sarah Bernhardt peonies are a demure pink but their swollen heads take deep bows as they offer their overwhelming scent, best smelled from a respectful distance (a strange brew of roses, singed feathers, and wood ash). Bending backwards, seeking refuge under my porch roof, the fragrant Bourbon rose Madame Ernst Calvat blooms from spring thru winter, proving pink is no sissy. Audacious Cleopatra camellias, smelling strongly of pollen, honey and jasmine, flaunt their delicate blossoms in late November or early December, daring autumn’s chill and rain to interfere with their show.
English Bulldogs have cool, rose-petal-soft pink bellies that are made to be rubbed. Pink cheeks are cute. And pink noses? When I see one on an orange cat with green eyes I’m delighted.
I raise a pinky to pink and to all who appreciate it.
Fade to Gray
Diptyque’s Roses candle in pink glass and pink wax has been discontinued. After a mad and best-selling dash around the globe (the candle was featured in magazine spreads around the world), its limited-edition run is over. Flushed with success, the pink-sheathed candle has been “retired”.
Years ago, at a Buddhist temple in Bangkok, glossy cinnabar-hued incense sticks produced pink smoke as they burned. The pink vapor gathered first in circular puffs that resembled flowers. These misty flowers slowly disintegrated, becoming a perfumed fog that spread out over the temple grounds and tinted the air pink. Even though it was midday, the pink atmosphere evoked the “rosy steps” of dawn.
I’ve never found the incense that produced pink smoke and maybe it’s for the best. A brief exalted experience, a treasured moment, gets its rose-colored aspect from its rarity. Perhaps that is the idea behind limited editions of perfumes?
Diptyque’s Roses candle smells of fragrant dewy rose petals tossed with fresh rose geranium leaves. Diptyque will continue to produce the wonderful Roses candles — but will they smell as rosy in clear glass and white wax?
I wish you all a happy and healthy 2007 — and if Diptyque is reading, they can make my new year a little happier by creating a candle and room spray in Winter Sweet (Chimonanthus praecox); it would be lovely presented in a pale yellow, opaque glass container.
For buying information, see the listing for Diptyque under Perfume Houses.
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Again, thank you for lovely writing. ahhh, pink. And roses in winter: an amazing site in Seattle, isn't it? To see a pink rose surviving against all odds and a lot of rain. One more pink you might like is the D.L. & Co. Rose Noir candle. xoxo
Thanks Mireille, I WILL try the DL & Co. Rose Noir candle…I need to explore that range. *just peeked out the front door…there are TWO rosebuds on Mme Calvat…. K
Kevin, thank you so much for your lovely post on one of my favorite colours – pink! You perfectly described the many wonders of pink in all its varying hues. I love wearing all shades of pink, and as I type this, I'm in fact staring at a lovely bouquet of pink gerberas and stocks.
Your garden sounds like my idea of heaven- especially the peonies, which have the most intoxicating scent. There is always room for more pink!
C: yes, the more pink in the garden the better…I envy you your stocks (the smell!)…and how could I have forgotten sweet peas? K
How I love to see men wear pink, not sure why, but I love it. From a long last more with Haley Mills, The Moonspinners, after being draped in her pink sweater, the hero says, “I've always fancied myself in pink”. I remember that quote from over 40 years ago. What a strange obsession confession I'd made here. LOL, Thank you for the pink report.
Kevin — what a charming post. I loved all your views of pink.
By the way, my chimonanthus is blooming as we speak. I did a post on it last winter… the cutting at my house is from the house I grew up in, where my father still lives. We were just over there last week, and his is blooming too.
I used to wish for a fragrance that captured wintersweet (like I wish for one for the iris flower.) But I've decided that I don't believe anyone could do it, because it would have to have that wildly unlikely smell of a bloom in winter.
You're welcome Victoria: l was in Napoli this summer and let me tell you, those southern Italian men LOVE their pink…I felt right at home. K
thanks M, it IS unlikely wintersweet could be presented in a perfume that would capture its “surprise factor”, when I smell it on the COLD air I get excited and feel happy. SO: could we ask for a sweet box scent instead? K
Here in Buenos Aires, the “Paris Pink” you describe is called “Rosa Viejo” or old pink, there is a variation, a mora vibrant shade of Rosa Viejo, that in this Paris-Loving city of the southern hemisphere is known as “Rosa Dior”. No more comments
Happy New Year Kevin!!
p.s.: Don't you wish you had a time machine sometimes to go back and answer with wit an aplomb to all those situations that were uncomfortable in the past… At least feels good to know that NOW I can almost effortlessly and wittily leave slack-jawed any wisea** that criticizes or comments on my liking for pink…fragrances…or men
Happy New Year to you too! (Just looked at Buenos Aires weather — you are sizzzzzzling.) And thanks for those beautiful names for Paris Pink…both are evocative. Ah…a time machine would be good…it would spare me those nights before sleep when I stare at the ceiling, jaw clenched, “revisiting” situations that I would LOVE to relive! K
Pink is my favourite colour too, Kevin, so I'm pleased to see it being celebrated. Isn't it silly, though, to deny one sex the right to love a colour on account of a shallow cultural directive? I'm really surprised that an ART teacher could be so tunnel-visioned and prescriptive. Anyway, I'm glad you're able to surround yourself in your favourite colour nowadays…and I raise a glass of pink champagne to you for the New Year. Thanks for all your fascinating writing, and keep up the good work!
VG: Back at you with the pink champagne (CLINK!) and have a wonderful 2007!
Brilliant, heartfelt and witty writing, K! I hereby nominate this article for Best of 2006
Although pink isn't my favorite color (all shades of blue and red are vying for the spot), I see no reason men shouldn't like and wear pink. Actually, I've been eyeing an off-pink (is that the right adjective) T and a matching sweater lately – they will be me mine as soon as the shops open after the holidays. Will go nicely with my blue eyes
Happy New Year, Kev, wishing you all the best in 2007!
Thanks Dusan…good to hear from you. That off-pink T-shirt and sweater will look great, especially set off by the SNOW (and your baby-blues). Here's to a great 2007, K
CHEEEERS!
Am starting the new year out now w/ a total craving for pink.
Horrible teacher, but I'm grateful she inspired your intense passion for pink since it led to this wonderful article. And everyone that sees that glorious sounding garden of yours owes an odd derriere backwards debt of gratitude to her as well. Hope you post pictures of it at some point!
I got that Diptyque Rose candle while it was still fully pink. God, and even if it would lack the surprise, I DO want a wintersweet candle. And a sweet box one as well, please.
Elle: there are SO MANY unexplored scents out there…I've been hoping for a wintersweet ANYthing for years; why can't they give us a SOAP at least? I'll photo “Bernhardt” this summer and do a post on PEONY…a fragrance that is hard to capture. Happy New Year, K
Hi Kevin,
Pink has been THE colour for men the past 2 seasons in Australia, and dont they look handsome in their pink business shirts or striped pink ties.
A favourite locally bred rose “Queen Elizabeth” is the first to bloom and the last to fade. It's tough, drought resistant and a glorious clear pink. Unfortunately it lacks perfume but I forgive it this one flaw
TS: you ARE a forgiving person…a rose without scent. But I guess that's where rose home fragrance can come to the rescue: bouquet of Queen Elizabeth and a spritz of Diptyque Roses in the air. K
Clear glass and white wax?
The cads.
I have Pink Fits near the end of each winter.
Yep, the candle looks “washed out” in all white…esp. if someone started using it when it was pink-pink. I guess the only way to get a pink fix this time of year is by rising early enough for sunrise or living in a place where there is a VISIBLE sunset every now and then! (Not here in the Northwest most of the time) K