Reading · Godfrey's Guide

Beauty and glamour are related, but not exactly the same thing; glamorous things are generally beautiful, but they possess the distinct charm of having been imagined by a person.

Natural beauty—say, in a person, or a cat, or the Grand Canyon—induces awe. The simple fact that something exists in the world and is somehow just occurring the way it so beautifully occurs: you feel humbled and even dwarfed, pleasingly.

Glamorous things somebody had to think up. Champagne coupes for example. Like form follows function blah blah blah, but then there’s something like a champagne coupe that’s just silly and beautiful for the sake of it. Oh, the bubbles lose their fizz faster? Well, like the rose that’s at its most beautiful right before it dies, ok. Sip a little faster.

The other night I had strawberries, raspberries, and unsweetened whipped cream in a giant champagne-coupe-like dish at Marcel, the new Roman and Williams restaurant in the Brutalist Breuer building that once housed the Whitney. It was glamorous, and it made me feel glamorous.

If I were a person who thought to photograph their food in restaurants, you’d be getting the sexy, lamp-lit *elan* of Marcel in the evening here, but this is the day look.

The very next night I had the very same dish, this time in a more prosaic bowl, but served en plein air at a table where the guests were seated only along one side, so as to view the long, deep, blue-tiled pool directly in front of us, surrounded by trees framing a stunning view of the Hudson River beyond. The waning light glittered on the water; the glamour was unstoppable.

But put delicious berries and unsweetened whipped cream (from the sweet I infer Cool Whip) in practically any setting, I think, and there’s some glamour to be had.

I like a champagne coupe that shouts its glamour from the rooftops; these silver fantasias from Moda are the ne plus ultra, over the top in the most glamorous way. They come as a set and make the best gift, especially for otherwise-stern occasions. Along with champagne and glamorous desserts, they are perfect for the drink of the summer: a splash of this strawberry vinegar, seltzer, and mint leaves.

Get these roses from Flowerbx a few days before you want them to fully devastate anyone who looks at them. They last and last, gradually opening into full-on, even-more-resplendent glamour. (Bonus: Flowerbx is a certified B-corp and delivers all over the US.)

Beauty products can of course be glamorous: spritzing on perfume, for example. At the poolfront-riverfront dinner, we spritzed ourselves not with perfume but with something new: eucalyptus water from tall canisters. Like the Evian mist they used to spray at you by the pool at fancy hotels, except in chic, pale green aluminum, and smelling ephemerally yet addictively of eucalyptus.

The Necessaire eucalyptus scent is the most beguiling version of eucalyptus ever: it’s soft where others are sharp, and there’s the faintest note of almost-cinnamon, as if you were standing next to a eucalyptus tree and a misty breeze wafted through. I already love the the body wash so much that I hoard it my cabinet. Still, I didn’t know I needed to mist myself multiple times a day with eucalyptus water until I discovered it at the gorgeous, glamorous dinner.

The new skin-nourishing mist from Necessaire feels and smells so good I cannot resist spritzing it on every time I walk by. Its ostensibly for body, but I mist it over my face too (it’s just water, but eyes closed). They’re also introducing eucalyptus body wipes in generous single-serving packets delivering glamour to the typically-unglamorous situation of needing a body wipe. (At the dinner we swiped ourselves with them to refresh, which was glamorous; no mosquitos bit anyone, which might have been a side-benefit.) For pure summer glamour (and the best hostess gift btw), you can get the mist + wipes together as a set.

Like a bar with no name that you sneak into down a mysterious hallway to get into, for a perfume to be truly glamorous, it should require some sort of pursuit; a person should have to be close to you in order to to detect it (should! should! therapists everywhere are shuddering).

The Glamour

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