Anais Anais by Cacherel first introduced me to the powers of perfume at age 12. No one told me you weren't supposed to overdo it. So not only did I leave no area of skin unscented, but I also fumigated every letter to my first boyfriend while he was away at summer camp. I began to realize the potent associations of the scent when he confessed that he loved to smell the letters (usually during Gatorade breaks at soccer games). So I sprayed more on.
Perfume is sheer seduction. Women spray it on their necks, wrists, decolletage, even the backs of legs. Why? Because those are the zones of seduction. For what other reason would the Addams Family's Gomez, when seized with passion, zoom in on the wrists and arms of Morticia?
But to get you hooked on a scent so you can tantalize others, perfumers must first snare the public with an image. If they've done their job right, the image will speak to something that you aspire to be, a feeling you want to have, a part of your personality that is looking for a way to express itself: Romance, by Ralph Lauren; Obsession, by Calvin Klein; Allure, by Chanel. (Little did I know in 8th grade of the intended associations of Anais Anais.)