Last year, for those unlucky in love I made a suggestion of a few roses one might buy oneself should the world not have furnished one with sufficient flowers on St Valentine’s Day. This year, I reblog that same list by way of prophylaxis: why not grab yourself a bloom today just in case someone fails to do the honourable thing tomorrow?!? You deserve it after all!
If a Dandy can’t love himself who the devil’s going to love a Dandy?
Well, so say I.
And yet, as souls sleep in the East, the public houses of London call last orders and people all over the Americas prepare for home time there will be Dandies and Dandiladies who are unhappy, unsatisfied and frankly insatiable.
But why? I hear you cry.
Well, dear fiends, they have been unlucky in love.
They may be with many or entirely without lovers. Indeed they may enjoy lovers and love of the highest order. That is not the kernel of their disappointment. They are be-fretted Dearhearts for they have not had their olfactory needs met.
Their noses have been ignominiously ignored. Or, worse still insulted with silly low grade scents.
Fear not forThe Perfumed Dandyis on hand with a hastily assembled receipt for aromatically induced happiness. What follows is a…
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The Perfumed Dandy. 
“My pink petals of perfumed petulance”! 🙂 You were on a roll with this one, Mr. Dandy. Thanks for the recap. I can never read enough about roses.