The quest for Lypsyl

I was on the hunt for Lypsyl the other day - you know, the lip salve that's been around forever. I love the taste and the fact that it HAS been around for years. I'm always hankering after the beauty products of yesteryear. I wonder endlessly what happened to them. Did their formulas die a death or are they stored somewhere waiting for a revival?

I think about all the thousands of perfumes that have disappeared over time. Remember in the 7Os the ubiquitous Kiku and Aqua Manda from Faberge? And products like "Glow 5" from Anne French, brands like Outdoor Girl and Woolworths' Evette; Tangee lip sticks that magically changed colour (SmashBox have a brilliant cheek stain based on the same premise).I loved a perfume called Lumiere by Rochas but it disappeared.

Anyway, back to Lypsyl. I couldn't find it in Boots or Sainsburys so was starting to fear it had gone the same way as Albion Milk of Sulphur soap, for example. So I was thrilled to find it in the local Somerfield of all places. And in a twin pack with a strawberry flavoured variant!

Anyway, a bit of judicious searching on Google revealed that you can buy Lysyl online fairly easily. It apparently originated in Sweden over 100 years ago and there is a Swedish variant with different packaging and formulas. It was acquired by a distributor Lorna Mead in 2000 with worldwide distribution rights "excluding the UK and Norway." Interesting. I see that Chemists Direct sell the original for 7Op plus strawberry, cherry and mint varieties.

A Perfume Odyssey

I probably buy two or three perfumes a year. Yesterday I bought Bluebell by Penhaligon. It's a one note perfume, the sweet nostalgic smell of bluebells. I love most of Penhaligon's perfumes particularly Malabah and Violette, which always reminds me of my gran (although she wore Yardley's April Violets).

I'm never tempted by the big splashy perfume launches these days, and I would never buy a "celebrity" scent. All I smell there is something fishy, as celebrities lend their image to some putrid smelling cat's pee in a bid to make a fast buck. They're never going to be remembered scents.

My first ever perfume was Yardley Sea Jade when I was about 12. Next I was given Dorothy Gray's Midnight one Christmas, but I didn't care for it much. I think my mum was harking back to her own youth when she got it for me. Pretty Peach by Avon was marketed at young ladies but I didn't like it: I considered myself too grown up! A girl I knew vaguely, who had a bit of a lisp, is called to this day "Pretty Peach Ruth" by my mum and me, because she confided that she had some Pretty Peach hand cream! My mum was an Avon lady so I had exposure to a lot of Avon's perfumes at that time, Elegance, Somewhere, Topaz, Occur! Here Is My Heart, Elusive and Moonwind.

Next in my perfume odyssey came Aqua Manda or was it Kiku? One of those Faberge perfumes that were all the rage in the early 70s. The big one for me was Charlie, a real breakthrough perfume in all respects. It was different, it was confident and it epitomised a new type of young woman.

I was getting a regular kit from the Universal Beauty Club, a motley collection of perfumes and cosmetics, mostly by companies you'd never heard of. My mum was thrilled when a bottle of Californian Poppy was among the haul, but boy did it smell of cat's pee.

In my 20s I would succumb to marketing hype and occasionally buy brand new perfumes: Vivienne Westwood's Boudoir, Estee Lauder's Knowing, Byzance by Rochas. There was many perfumes I flirted with but didn't really love: Cinnabar (I liked it but it was not really me), Cabotine de Gres, Magie, Lumiere, Joy, L'eau d'Issey and very briefly Giorgio Beverley Hills (but everybody else wore it).

My second "breakthrough" scent was Diorella by Dior, originally launched in 1972 as one of the new generation of chypre perfumes. I first smelt it on a friend I'd met on a women's management course, and I couldn't resist buying it (even though perfumes often smell differently on other people). I still love Diorella and have a few drops of eau de parfum left, saving for very special occasions, because Dior only make it now in eau de toilette.

I first wore Diorella back in 1989 so there have been a few perfumes since then, among them Dioressence, Chanel 19, Chanel no 5, Cristalle, Miss Dior Cherie and Aromatics Elixir. All passing flirtations however.

Some perfumes are so evocative they instantly remind me of someone who wears them. My mother used to wear Alliage and Elizabeth Arden's Memoire Cherie (no longer available), and I can still remember how they smelt. I combed the web to find Memoire Cherie and eventually found an original soap, in America, which I bought for around five dollars. But my mum admitted later she'd gone off it. And I doubt if I could wear Charlie now.

My sister-in-law Sarah has worn many scents but to me, Cinnabar is the one that reminds me of her. One of my best friends Julie is synonymous with Opium.

There are some perfumes I truly detest: Youth Dew, Shalimar, Poison, Mitsouko, Tresor, anything with roses (I don't believe you can capture the smell of roses in scent) and the latest vogue of scents that all smell the same - the Britney / J Lo / whoever fragrances.

My belief is that the market for heritage and long forgotten perfumes, plus made-to-measure scent, will become huge as women of my age and older decide they want to have a unique wardrobe of perfumes rather than the same old scents churned out by the global perfumiers.