Acqua Di Parma Barbiere
So I had this all worked out.
Elegant and swift. Tell a story about how Acqua di Parma reminds me of my Dad, that he is my hero and that is why I don’t wear their Colonia – I’m a Perfumer H guy – but each day use their excellent Barbiere range in between visits to Trumpers on Curzon Street.
Then tie it in with Milanese buying trips, how Luca Di Montezemolo is about to become every style guys new obsession and then back to Dad.
But first, walk the dogs and then a quick workout, before I sit down to write.
That was the plan…
It started with a dog – not mine - deciding to try the latest perfume, ‘Eau de Renard le mangé du poisson’, but not a dab behind the ears, instead a wet nose to tail rancid bathe, which somehow meant all three had to be washed, each of whom was more intent on cuddling me than getting clean.
Dogs shimmering, my phone went, need to pop out.
150 yards down road, Land Rover decided to keep me on my toes, which two hours later left me daubed in diesel, oil and grease.
Errand run, finally back to find someone wants to talk to me about a delivery of bricks, before phone calls about sheep, shoes and stuff.
By which time my plan is off floating somewhere else on the breeze, leaving me fractious and famished.
Fed and watered, let’s give this writing a go, nah, not happening, first thought, best thought is long gone.
It’s funny how these ideas, best laid plans, are there then woosh, bye bye.
How do we get back there? I find exercise; dog walking; taking a shower; cooking; playing some records; reading; doing laundry; polishing shoes; mucking about under bonnet of a car; making a pot of tea or pulling an espresso usually works.
Why though? Because they are all in their own way meditational activities, ritualistic and to an extent repetitive, they allow us as we float away to nourish ourselves until we are as new.
They become part of our uniform, daily activities which tell our story just like the fades on our jeans, scuffs on suede and scent on our neck.
And if like me - hello, maybe, that is why you are here - once you get into something, you start to seek out the pinnacle of your taste. Lifelong search for what is for you ‘the best’, from car tyres to boots; spatulas to porridge spurtles; coffee beans; cashmere; lawnmowers to barbers and everything else which falls into the category of aides which may not guarantee happiness but will ease you through life with a smile.
Which brings me back to Acqua Di Parma Barbiere, no fancy promises nor an offer of cup of tea in the morning, instead doing what it does far better than the been there and tried it competition. For example most beard oils I find either too heavy or so light and pointless that they turn to cooking oil within a week and beard related hydrating lotions either leave you feeling painfully taut or a tacky mess.
These thankfully just work.
The Emulsione Rinfrescante Dopobarba I use for about a week after I’ve had my beard lopped short, then I swap to the Siero da Barba for the next week.
There is a pleasing weight to the bottles, each of which shows the nicks and scrapes of life.
The packaging, that yellow, dandelion yellow , with bumblebee black and a simple dandelion clock white label soothes and brightens my mood, visible probably from Space, it is as iconic as the scent, which is well, Colonia, which is as you imagine a cologne to smell, citrus, rose, woods with the under appreciated but ever elegant Lavender. So fresh and so clean, oh so very clean, summer and winter, holiday and ready for action all rolled into one. But it’s there in the background, a subtle and elegant scent vibration.
It’s my Dad, forever the best dressed man I know - and I mean a man, with all the elegance and no nonsense grace, charm and complex sophistication that makes him my hero. I poked my head in his bathroom recently and a large splash bottle of Colonia sits next to the sink, which is in part why I use the Barbiere, but I’ve now used it for so long, it’s kind of me. I’m there in Milan in autumn for buying appointments, dreaming of spring in Sicily, or just out of the shower, an early summer night, jump in truck, windows open, the season caught on air, and off out for supper outdoors with perfect company.
