October 8—Fiji (Denarau Island)
Twig and Harry have yet to emerge from their hibernation. It’s 7 in the morning and I feel SO GOOD. Look at what is waiting for me out the window!

But since I have a little interlude here, I shall take this moment to temporarily turn away from tropical beauty to review the loot I was too fucking greedy to walk away from.

The tote from the business class lounge comes with a vial of a Bulgari perfume called OMNIA, which I assume means Quit Your Bitching Karen Good For Men and Whining Women. It smells like… you know. Perfume.
The women’s tote from first class comes with a bottle of “OROM,” with a hunk of labradorite in the lid. How do I know labradorite from Silly Putty? Because of this card that came with—featuring copy that leaves my poor logological abilities moaning in the dust. I mean, dig this spectacular high-wire act:
“Explore Madagascar, the geological treasure island and its ballet of shimmering greens and blues, hiding the magical Labradorite. A breathtaking gemstone, connected to the colorful magical powers of nature, as fascinating as an aurora borealis. A contrasted leathery signature [note: We’ve moved from a description of the stone to a description of the perfume, so don’t get whiplash here] where exquisite pearls of vanilla caviar intertwine with the richness of natural oud [I don’t know what oud is, but it seems to loom large in the legend] to bring to life the magic of Labradorite.”
Not bad copy, huh? And to add the coup de grace to this literary assassination, we have the three elements to note in the fragrance, which are Vanilla Bourbon Absolute [is that two or maybe three forms of alcohol?], Benzoin Siam Resinoid [shit—what do THOSE words mean??], and Oud Assam Essence. [Assam appears in the names of some teas; is this a Labradorite-inspired cuppa??]
The perfume smells sweet to me. A bit cloying. Dare I say…a little juvenile? That vanilla really does come through…but I don’t dare spritz any on me. Despite my fascination, I don’t like perfume. One spritz can lead to day-long regret. For me and anyone around me.
BUT WAIT!
We’ve still got the guy tote to examine! And haven’t they done a clever job here? The name of the men’s fragrance is the uber-masculine “KOBRAA” which certainly doesn’t sound like Uncle Dave is dabbing on a little eau de parfum on his pulse points, does it? But wait—we take our serpent stylings to new levels, for what stone forms the lid to KOBRAA? What else? Snake jasper! Come on. You just have to applaud the web they’re weaving here. The little card explains it all:
“Embark on a journey through Zealandia, a hidden continent [I’ll say], an enigmatic part of the earth where snake jasper can be found. Anciently used as an antidote for snakebites [I feel this assertion might be fallacious], this gemstone is a symbol of powerful regeneration and life force. [My god, you are a manly man, Uncle Dave!] A timeless masculine freshness [again, the third sentence makes a quick switch from describing the stone to describing the scent], blended with the spiritual force [the SPIRITUAL FORCE! I mean, seriously—give this writer a big honking raise!] of smoked incense and the depths of agarwood.”
What three notes make up the spiritually powerful KOBRAA? That would be Geranium Essence [first flower we’ve come to yet, and it’s in Uncle Dave’s tote bag], Black Incense Heart Essence [is that the heart of the black incense, or just a spare human heart they had lying around the Bulgari offices?], and Oud Essence [oud again; it’s back] from Bangladesh. [Ah. Bangladesh. Much-vaunted home of oud. Whatever oud is.]
Smells peppery to me.
Let me be clear: I will never use any of this stuff. I do not want them…and yet I WANT THEM! I might have to cut the person who tried to relieve me of these little totes. I love the vast lifetimes visible through their sturdy zippers, the characters who would either raise a haughty eyebrow and think “I can give THAT to the maid” or shlumps like me who greet each little vial, each tube, each deliciously heavy little mirror and think “THIS is all that has been standing between me and a life of chauffeurs and personal chefs; at last. THIS!”
It seems alarmingly likely that I’m going to haul all three useless pouches the rest of the way around the world with me. Once I get home and have come to my senses, I will throw them away. Unless you want them?
Going to explore Fiji now, hopefully having plumbed the absolute depths of my foolish greed. I shall come away refreshed and compassionate and thoughtful, blessed by the profound and transformative spiritual force of oud.
Don't you dare throw anything away before I get to see it! (please?!)
Good gravy, do you not know your oud from your chypre? Oud is dark and resinous and Leonard Cohen's favorite scent. It's part of what put the "trade" in trade routes in the Arab peninsula. Let me smell it!
I'm a scent whore!!! I want your perfume!!! I want my man to smell like oud from Bangladesh!!!