Non.


“Jazz music plays in the old cafe, traffic thunders by outside as a soft breeze blows through the open balcony doors, the late afternoon sun sets, casting its last light through the windows. The walls painted a deep crimson red flake slightly at the corners and a chandelier hangs from the ornate ceiling. As I sit in a scarlet red chair facing the balcony I watch others. Two women chat amongst themselves cigarettes in hand, a man reads a newspaper, glasses precariously placed at the end of his nose and a distinct young man types on his laptop, looking around occasionally. At this moment a young waitress places a mocha on my table, the man with the glasses turns the page of his newspaper and the next track of jazz starts to play” – Back dated Diary entry 15/5/11

Its been over a week since I last wrote to you, a week that has seen more scribbles to my notebook and sighs of irritation as words seem to fall apart. My rooms current state of mess perfectly echoes the state of my mind, paper scribbled on and thrown in a heap, books piled dangerously close to the edge of a shelf, my silk curtains half hanging off the rail and clothes lay where they were taken off. My bed bare and a simple white blanket covers the mattress, above my bed lanterns hang, the only thing untouched by my wrath of emotions. My boyfriends clothes in one corner and mine in another, which to seems to show the void I feel with him at times. Yet all must keep going as I sort my room out one hurt and smile at a time.


I sit now in a darkening room as the sun sets behind me; I take a sip of coffee and gaze at my reflection in the mirror opposite. I lean over the table and pick up a slim glass bottle, in the fading light the liquid inside appears a brown, with a deep orange tinge, I spray the perfume on my wrist. Perfume hovers around me as a dragonfly does a pond, ‘this must be the new cologne he was talking about’ I think.
Perfume can be a snapshot in time, a memory and a reminder of someone dear and can linger in the imagination long after gone. I have never really stuck to one ‘signature’ perfume, I am still searching for myself, and as I change and grow as a person, my perfume follows. My long time affair with Miss Dior Cherie is still going strong, as the bottle is simply gorgeous. Some days I wear a sweet floral and other days I opt for my partner’s manly, yet oh so sensuous cologne.


My great grandmother was a channel no5 girl and its elegant, intense scent brings me back to sneaking around her wardrobe, trying on her collection of shoes and eating her lipstick (oui, as a child it was one of my favourite past times, my poor mother)
Perfume bottles themselves have a certain charm about them, whether detailed and ornate or simple and clean cut, their presence screams femininity.

The scent of chocolate floating through the air however, is a pleasure that no amount of perfectly detailed bottles could encase.
Chocolate for me is a love and a passion, an affair. Delicately hand crafted chocolate is quite simply one of the truest pleasures in the world for one to enjoy and marvel in. I can and often do, spend countless hours trekking the streets of various different cities, in different countries searching for a boutique chocolate shop, where I can indulge my senses.


Quite recently my partner and I spontaneously visited Canberra for the day, after waking up at 5am and deciding there was nothing to do, we started the 4 hour drive down to Canberra (stopping at a highway McDonalds for breakfast, for pure novelty.) On our day trip which included looking around NewActon Nishi , a new design architect project (we had gone to the presentation, where the developer and architect, who is a friend of a friend, spoke about their newest project) which is said to bring nature to urban living and features a movie theatre, cafes and an amazing hotel concierge service for all residences, we also went to Koko Black, where my chocolate fetish was very much satisfied.

I ordered for both of us, a hot chocolate in milk and one in dark chocolate, and a homemade chocolate brownie, drizzled in chocolate (with an additional melted chocolate shot) and vanilla bean ice cream. Believe me Ma chérie (mon cheri) if you are ever in Canberra go to Koko Black, while you are there you can check out the very trendy and newly developed shopping centre and the countless eateries!
People who know me, can perfectly describe the delight on my face as I bite into some kind of chocolate, it is as some say, the face of pure happiness.
Perfume and chocolate go hand in hand for me, in their ability to show the finer details and a silent beauty, that at times the many seems to hurry past in the quest to find bigger and better. Nothing is more feminine than the lasting scent of ones perfume or the way a finely handcrafted chocolate can add a simple, gorgeous indulgence in a, at times, rather mundane world.

Until Next time Darlings…

7 thoughts on “Non.

  1. I loved reading all of this, but what I loved most was definitely the chocolate part! As a chocaholic myself, I can appreciate what it must have been like for you to bite into that brownie!

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