As teenagers locked away in an English boarding school,my friends and I lusted after nothing more exotic than Avon’s Pretty Peach bubble bath or a Bromley lemon soap – innocuous anodyne scents that were reminiscent of nothing but a draconian bath rota.  So when I smelt Opium by Yves St Laurent for the first time, it transported me to a place beyond my wildest dreams and smelled like the person I wanted to become – a glittering glamorous party girl, sophisticated and a little bit dangerous.  But of course it was well out of my reach. I remember having a dinner party one New Year’s Eve, and thinking I was terribly grown up.  I went in to our local department store and splashed Opium onto my neck and wrists.  It lasted long into the night and lingered on my dress for ages.It was years before I earned enough to buy my own bottle with its silken tassel and it took pride of place on my dressing table.  It makes me think of music and laughing and dancing on tables, even now, and I still adore it.  A perfume for behaving as badly as you want.

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