Everything Happens at Once

Doesn’t it just? We are closing the Bleecker Street Store this week. Saturday is the last day I think. I’m not there for it, and thank heavens for that. I would need a double intravenous valium infusion, for sure. Or an entire bottle of scotch and a couple of packs of cigarettes maybe. Or maybe just a good slap. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy about it. We are moving to a smaller space, on a more reasonable street, kind of like how Bleecker was when we originally moved there. In fact, I’ve been whining for years about wanting out of that situation. But still.
It’s like losing an organ.

Some people ask if this is business or pleasure and I can’t even understand the question. I have my logo tattooed on my arm for Gods sake. What does that tell you? Not the name, just the lotus, But still. Is that business or pleasure? No wonder I take things personally. I suspect many if not most of us in this business (or pleasure) feel the same way. Who are you without your company? Wanna make a judgement on that? Is it pathetic? Or is it enviable? Maybe it depends on how you are who you are. My friend Cary was a “day trader” in the stock market. He could make ridiculous money. But he tied his health to the market and so he died when the stocks fell. That’s not how I mean. I still have that soft pink lotus winking at me from the inside of my arm.



We were on Bleecker street since 1997. That’s 14 years. That’s a long damn time, especially for a California girl. New York seems like it has more permanency and Salalah even more so. With people I mean, not the city skyline. Will there be phantom pain, like a missing leg? Or will it be like missing a part of my heart? Maybe that’s what kills us---people dying, great disappointments, illnesses, betrayals, endings, and each one gives a little phantom pain in the heart, until the scales tip. But we all have different thresholds of course.

Excuse my maudlin musings. I am actually not sad about closing. We have another, new store, opening just a few days away, and it’s even in the Village still. I’m not complaining; we could have stayed. It will be a relief, like pulling a tick out maybe. The new store promises to be even sweeter, and we will focus on what we originally intended to focus on all those years ago but couldn’t, because we had to have all that other stuff for the people who just wandered in off the street not necessarily looking for pure jasmine oil, but for a hostess gift, say.

Without getting psuedo-spiritual about the dual nature of existence, blah blah blah, there certainly are a few different emotions going on. It’s been an intense, crazy, and unknowable couple of weeks, I feel like a buoy.

So I’m glad not to be in New York this week, It will be hard for those sweet creatures who are there doing the work, but I don’t think any of them will mistake closing the store for organ shut down. It will just be sad. It’s the “end of an era.”



Enfleurage was originally built by Patrick Dias, and even using some of the structure from Trygve Aromatics, the store he built before that, on Jones Street. He did a great job, and even though he (as a theatrical designer and carpenter,) said it was built to last a couple of years, it has lasted until today. I can’t even imagine how they are going to tear down the back room, with those insanely sturdy shelves that could hold a herd of rhinoceros. I’m sure the next tenant will tear down, though. Patrick built a barrel vault ceiling, single-handedly as well. He worked completely illegally, without a permit, and half of it on the sidewalk, in the winter, in incredibly cramped conditions, while Robear and I just got in his way. He did a genius job, really perfect work.

We did a renovation in 2007, after 10 years, and a couple of repaintings. Hassan Ech-Chaouy did the renovation, switching the energy and feng-shui of the store completely around, and updating the look, infusing it with a fresh loving vibe while leaving the perfect infrastructure intact.

All of the other large and small changes, and all of the painting, decorating, methodology, maintenance of the vital organs, and life support was done by Thomas Carson and Stacy Amber. They had the help of many other people, but these two are the two. If not for Tom and Stacy Enfleurage would have closed years ago, no question. Tom has been with Enfleurage since 1998 I think, and Stacy since 2001, I think again. That’s a long damn time as well. If it wasn’t for these two, there is no way I’d be out carousing about the planet, looking for agarwood and distilling frankincense. There is no way we’d have a new company in Oman either. Hell, I’d probably be addicted to anti-depressants or dead.
Or the store would be gone.


Now I am so fortunate we have a fantastic, knowledgeable and loyal staff. Tom, Stacy, Christina and Ken all have specialty areas they excel in, as you know if you’ve been in the store. Inshaa Allah all will go well with the move. I understand the new store is looking fantastic and for this I have to thank Jonathan Smith, who has gone way over and above the minimum necessary to ensure this. Without him, we would be foundering deeply and mortally, in construction hell. But since Jon knows everything, and speaks the language of drywall and waiscotting, and is not terrified by barrels of little electrical things with coils and prongs, he is the only conceivable person who can speak the contractors language, as this world is a mystery to me, and in fact to all of us.



Meanwhile, I am in Muscat, about to give another interview, about the new project here. At last everything is finished, the paperwork is done and filed, a space obtained, my personal status enhanced and secure. After this I tie up a few loose ends, bugger off to a couple of trade shows in nearby countries, and then rocket back to New York, leaving all my life here for what is hopefully the last time for a long time, and hurry back as soon as possible to start the actual work on our new Omani company. I knew the second half of this year would be busy, but....wallah.

It feels weird and strange though, to be here as Enfleurage Bleecker Street breathes its last breath, even as 13th Street gets slapped into life and Salalah gets conceived........