Scents of Self

My father and I at my brother's Bar Mitzvah. My grandmother is there in spirit.

Scents of Self is first and foremost a perfume blog. I have always felt that this is not the right space for political debate, and so I have never once used it to air political opinions. But today I must speak.

Breast cancer has great significance for my family. My father, president of Weinberg Medical Physics LLC, is a pioneer in the field of breast cancer detection. He invented PEM, positron emission mammography. With a 92% rate of cancer detection, PEM scans detect breast cancer more accurately than standard mammographies (which have a 78% rate of cancer detection). My father’s mother, Helen Weinberg, died of breast cancer at age 70 in 2003. She was the godliest woman I have ever known. It was my grandmother who taught me that we must be kind and decent to others, particularly those who are less fortunate than us. It is with her lessons in my heart that I write this today.

Susan G. Komen is the world’s largest non profit breast cancer charity. Yesterday, Susan G. Komen announced that it would no longer be funding breast cancer screenings at Planned Parenthood Clinics. Planned Parenthood is a reproductive health care organization. They have 800 clinics in the United States. Because the fees of Planned Parenthood services are determined on a sliding scale (meaning that women with lower income pay lower prices), Planned Parenthood is essentially the only affordable source of reproductive health for many women.

Yes, we all know that Planned Parenthood provides abortions. However, over 90% of the services performed by Planned Parenthood are actually preventative. These include birth control, STD tests and treatment, and, of course, cancer screenings. Planned Parenthood clinics have performed over 4 million breast cancer screenings over the past 5 years. 170,000 of those were made possible by funding from Susan G. Komen.

I don’t care what you think about abortion, and neither does breast cancer. It affects the pro-choice and the pro-life alike. When the day comes that you need a breast cancer screening, I hope to God that you can afford a private clinic. Because thanks to Susan G. Komen, Planned Parenthood just became a little less likely to be able to provide you with one.

I would also like to share with you some interesting information about Susan G. Komen’s spending. These numbers come straight from Susan G. Komen’s 2010 financial statements.  In 2010, Susan G. Komen raised $389,309,686. $76,769,686 of that was spent on fundraising and administrative costs. Of the remaining $283,179, 167, $75,407,069 was spent on research, $140,773,507 on “public health education”, $46,860,822 on health screening services, and $20,137,769 on treatment services. In other words, Susan G. Komen allocated more money to “public health education” than the amounts they spent on research, health screening services, and treatment services added together.

Look, y’all, we know what breast cancer is. It was identified in 1600 B.C. The public is already educated. We don’t need any more pink ribbons, “save the boobies” t-shirts, special beauty products, or cutesy Facebook statuses. Raising awareness of breast cancer is no longer the top priority; research, early detection, and treatment are. And if you donate to Susan G. Komen, that is not where your money will be going.

I have never stepped foot in a Planned Parenthood. God willing, I will never need to get an abortion. I was privileged to attend a private high school with adequate sexual education. But considering my family history of breast cancer, it is very likely that I will eventually need breast cancer screenings. No matter what she is there for, a woman who receives treatment at Planned Parenthood clinics is no less of a person than I am. She is no less deserving of breast cancer screening than I am. I will be donating to Planned Parenthood today in honor of my brave grandmother. She believed in always doing the right thing, even when it is difficult or unpopular.

Due to some fairly traumatic experiences at a cult-like Socialist/Zionist summer camp, I have a deep distrust of anything even vaguely hippy-dippy. The following phrases immediately arouse my suspicion: “all-natural”, “green”, “organic”, “holistic”, “the man”, “jam session”, and “goats”. (We raised our own goats at that summer camp. They smelled terrible and were unbelievably bad-tempered. God, I hate those goats.)

YOU ARE THE WORST

So no one was more surprised than I by my recent interest in UK brand Lush. All of Lush’s products are vegetarian (many are even vegan) and over 70% are all-natural*. Their hideous packaging is designed to be environmentally friendly and reduce waste. They are about as green as it gets. Nothing about Lush should appeal to me conceptually, and yet I squeal like a preteen at a Bieber concert every time I enter one of their stores.

Here’s why Lush succeeds where so many others have failed: the Lush experience is really, really fun. Being socially responsible and environmentally friendly are not usually particularly fun, unless “An Inconvenient Truth” was your idea of a good time. (No judgment if it was. Love me some Al.) Too often, beauty companies genuinely attempting to support good causes come off as overly earnest or even judgmental. Nobody wants to feel like they have to buy your organic shampoo out of guilt, or because you’ve put them on the verge of a nervous breakdown about global warming and the potentially tragic future of the polar bears. (This happens to me all the time, by the way. A good 15% of my time is spent silently freaking out about what’s going to happen to the polar bears. I’m pretty fun to be around, you guys.)

OH GOD WHY WOULD ANYONE TAKE A PICTURE OF THIS

Lush manages to keep everything positive. The stores, which are set up like a fruit stand at a bazaar, are colorful and interactive. You can cut off your own chunk of soap, try on a cupcake-scented face mask, or set off a bath bomb. Lush wisely allows its products to speak for themselves rather than resorting to scare tactics. Who needs to threaten impending polar bear doom when you sell bath bombs that are shaped like robots and turn your bath water exciting colors? I have decided to honor Lush’s quality products and commendable marketing by dedicating this week to reviewing some of their Gorilla Perfume fragrances. Thank you, Lush, for putting the “fun” back in “the last polar ice cap will melt in 2042.”

What do you think about Lush, and about natural/green brands in general? Are you a fan of any of the Lush fragrances?

*http://www.lushusa.com/shop/about-lush/articles/

Please note that I have not yet tried Billionaire Boyfriend. This post is in response to the concept behind this new perfume.

My angel! I’m so sorry, you caught me a little unprepared. I gave Jeeves the day off, he told me something about needing to have some words with Kate Walsh. You know Jeeves. Always such a kidder.

Why, darling, you’re hardly dressed for a day on the yacht! Where is your Prada sunscreen? Your Missoni muumuu? Next you’re going to tell me that you forgot your Gucci sandcastle bucket!

Why, pet, whatever could you mean by “Can we take the smaller yacht today?” You know perfectly well that I just had Jeeves prepare the S.S. 1% for our lunch with William and Kate! It would positively break Jeeve’s heart if we didn’t use it after he put so much effort into that diamond-encrusted anchor. And it always raises the serfs’ spirits to see our flag on the horizon.

You want a what? A job? Is that one of those ghastly STDs that all the commoners seem to have? Work? Well, naturally! I’ve been saying for years that it’s time for you to take over Mother’s position on the National Ballet board. No? Oh, I see, you genius girl. You’re holding out for the National Opera.

Look, I don’t know who this Gloria Steinem character is, but I don’t think she’s being a very good influence on you. Please don’t make me call Mother and have her disinvited from the Save The Dwarf Hamsters gala next month. Is she one of your Real Housewife friends? No? Is she a Kennedy? Those damn Kennedys. Can’t trust ‘em farther than you can throw them. What do you mean, “male gaze”? What the hell is a “proletariat”?

Sweet John D. Rockefeller! What’s gotten into you, precious? Look, those awful feminists are gone now, you don’t have to pretend anymore. We both know that all you want is to stay in our tastefully decorated home while I drunkenly invade Father’s stockholder meetings and carry on remarkably indiscreet affairs.

No, no, don’t speak, turtledove. I can see the rapturous agreement in your eyes. That’s what every woman wants, isn’t it? A billionaire boyfriend! No need for silly things like a job or an identity. My goodness, sometimes it’s positively exhausting to be so in touch with women’s needs. I may well have need of the smelling salts.

Why, poppet, you’re crying! Tears of joy, how very touching. Here, have my best handkerchief. It’s terribly soft, isn’t it? Jeeves wasn’t even using that chest hair.

I have been writing about perfume almost every day for two years now. This blog and the people who read it are often the best thing about my day. For the first time since I started Scents of Self, I don’t know what or how to write. I am hoping that finally being able to refill my ADHD medication will help some, but for now it is honestly kind of scary. I don’t feel that this blog’s time has come yet, so I’m turning to you for help. I need ideas,  y’all! What kind of posts do you want to see? What subjects or topics would you like to be covered? I will consider (and probably implement) any and all suggestions. Thank you very much in advance.