I listen to a podcast called “As the Season Turns” which I enjoy in a mild way. It comes out on the first of every month and talks about what will happen over the month (nature wise not events). It’s sponsored by Ffern perfume and as I listened over the years I became more and more curious and eventually signed myself up to the “Ffern ledger” (I am alarmingly susceptible to advertising). I had to wait to get on the ledger, mind. Notions: queuing to buy something. But I did get on and eventually I was able to get my own barrel aged, small batch, whatever you’re having yourself, perfume made in Somerset. It comes with various small items and, unboxing, as I believe the expression is, is a joy. There’s also a short film every quarter. I don’t how much they pay the likes of Ruth Wilson and Bill Nighy for the slightly twee English material but there must be money in flogging stuff to me and my ilk.
I quite like the perfumes (they come quarterly on the 21st of the month) but to me they are heavy very adult scents like my mother used to wear. The first time I wore one, Herself said, “Is that your Ffern perfume – it smells very young!”. I guess everything is cyclical (insert your own joke here about the turning of the seasons).