"She had teeth like cloves!" was one unkind remark. She was from and had two children and had lost her husband to the French Revolution. She was a lady who lived by her charm and her wits, luckily she had plenty of both. Her fashion sense was second to none, and her ability to put on a party was the stuff of legend. She had quite a few highly placed lovers among the various ruling bodies of the French Revolution but she managed to attract and enslave one short younger Corsican Corporal who became Napoleon.
At first she was disdainful of the too ardent suitor, she toyed with him and didn't treat him as respectfully as she should have. Gradually he won her heart and they were married. Alas, constancy was not Josephine's strong suit and she dallied with a dandy named Hipolite Charles when Napoleon was on the campaign trail to Egypt. Of course he was cheating on her, too BUT that was different. He loved her. "Don't bathe until we meet again," was an ardent line from one of his blistering letters to her.
Alas, when two ultra passionate people fall in love, all hell breaks loose. As Josephine got older and Napoleon grew more successful her love for him waxed, and his love for her waned. She could have no more children and he divorced her. She retired to her home outside Paris, Malmaison (Bad House) with its fabulous rose gardens, and pined for her husband. It is said that she painted the walls of some of the rooms of Malmaison with civit musk to have the smell soak into the house forever. Though he married again and had the heir he wanted, it is thought that Napoleon's last word was "Josephine!" I think that it was.
Roses, the old fashioned and wildly flagrant pink and red/white striped kind, combined with a jolt of what I call "Ivory" musk (it's like a white musk but much nicer with more character), galbanum to keep a bitterness in the mix like love gone awry and add a clean edge to it all as if tears had washed away the traces of touch.
Floral, spicy, musky
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