Today all the seniors left. Those not graduating had to be out by Friday, but today is the day that the campus loses some of its cadre of the last four years forever. If I've learned anything over the last ten years in and around higher education, it is this: a campus without students is like a stadium with no team, a car with no driver, a house without a family to live in it. The vitality of place comes from a sense of purpose. Purpose gives belonging in the world. It gives meaning. Without that, without life, it's just a shell, not unlike the way people look after the life leaves them. A college is just that: a living entity. Without students, we don't exist, not really. And in the dramatic come-tragedies of several hundred lives, this set was written off the page today. And those who remain, more or less with it.
It's strange to be in a perpetual state of being left behind as people complete and move on from major chapters in their lives. I think we all like to believe that we are the stars of our world, our lives, but when you are -- annually -- a part of someone finishing one adventure and going off into the sunset to pursue to next one, it's a strong reminder that the world does not, in fact, revolve around you. Who becomes a minor and passing player and who continues as guest star is sometimes difficult to predict. It's an age old tale, only David and I live it a little every spring, just as we become new and important players in different lives every fall. Fall feels like life starting in our world, and Spring is the end, in a perverse reversal of natural forces. And tends to make me maudlin.
There are nice things about it, though. One of them is that David loves to go around at the end, when everyone has left, and look at what remains, scavenging from other people's trash things that, to us, are treasures. An abandoned course book; a random home appliance. And, at least this year, believe it or not he even came back with some perfume. This my friends, is how I came into possession of a three-quarters full bottle of Marc Jacobs perfume, and thus bring you this review today.
The perfume is supposed to be "Marc Jacobs interpret[ion of] Gardenia," described as follows:
Marc Jacobs Perfume maintains the fundamental aspects of all Marc Jacob's designs. It's classic, luxurious, and comfortingly feminine. The scent is both sensuous and uncomplicated, complementing the wearer without overwhelming her.The instant application scent is watermelon scented nail polish remover. Luckily that fades almost immediately into gardenia. This gardenia is more wide than deep in scent, seemingly coated in a fat layer of watermelon jolly rancher -- sweet, fruity, and floral. I don't get cedar at all, though the musk is probably contributing that tiny sour bit that turns this toward watermelon and away from something sweeter, like strawberry or cherry.
Notes: Gardenia, Wild Muguet, Skin Musk, Cedar, Ginger.
On the whole, not the worst gardenia in the world. In fact, when it comes to a floral that typically get associated with the proverbial 'old lady' scent, this one might be very nice for a teenager or girl in her early 20s. And, inevitably, that's who left the bottle behind. It makes me wonder -- why did she leave it? Had she already found something she thought fit her better? Was it one of many options? As she went off into the end-of-school-year, beginning-of-summer sunset, did this no longer seem to fit her, after all the experiences she'd had in the last year? I hope so. I hope Marc Jacobs was left behind in a flurried rush toward something even better. It's nice to think that somewhere out there a girl is growing into someone she never expected to be, striking off toward new adventures. And I, the one left behind? Well, I get her perfume.
You can buy Marc Jacobs perfume in a variety of sizes from Sephora, Amazon, Nordstrom, and a number of other online and brick and mortar outlets. It also comes in solid perfume, body creme, and lotion.
"Hey, come on try a little.
Nothing is forever.
There's got to be something better than in the middle.
Me and Cinderella,
we put it all together.
We can drive it home.
with one headlight."
- "One Headlight" The Wallflowers
(You can listen to the song here)