If Mary Shelly Judged My Vanity Contents
The Modern Prometheus of the Vanity
By Caroline Bell
The fog is floating against the windowpanes this morning, and like Morticia Adams I yearn for a gray, electric storm and a cave that feels appropriately atmospheric. As I sit before the mirror, attempting to assemble a presentable version of myself for a holiday party, I feel a kinship with Mrs. Shelley, I think about the cave I would rather be in, of course being the romantic introvert I actually am, parties give me great anxiety. It is a fine thing to sit at the vanity and daydream about things that bring comfort in the midst of the holiday season, which can sometimes feel pulling or pushing. The woman’s vanity is her sacred place, and in my case my cat’s personal nap area, so I only have a few things on it to allow him room. It’s this morning sitting at my vanity I thought about Mary Shelly, and what she would think of my vanity contents, did she have a vanity?
We are all, in our own way, in the business of reanimation. We stitch ourselves together with serums and silks, hoping the lightning strikes and the creature in the glass comes to life. If the author of Frankenstein were haunting my dressing room today, perhaps brooding in the corner while I apply my mascara or perfume, I am sure Mary Shelly would have much to say about the alchemy of my scent collection.
She understood that beauty is always shadowed by a touch of melancholy. Here is her critique of my laboratory.
Note: This collection contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases, which helps support a life of intention.
Jolie Muse Pumpkin Chai Scented Candle
The Critique: Mary Shelley would be drawn to the glass itself before the scent. The way the textured amber catches the light would remind her of the lanterns used to navigate the dark hallways of Villa Diodati.
"A captive flame," she would murmur, tracing the hobnail glass. "It is the color of the harvest moon when it hangs low and heavy in the sky. The scent... it is not merely a gourd. It is the spice of distant lands, cinnamon, ginger, the warmth of chai tea served while the wind howls outside. It smells of the inevitable turn of the season, of leaves decaying into gold, of the comfort we seek when the days grow short."
"It is a scent that demands a story be told. It transforms a cold room into a sanctuary. Cinderellas pumpkin into a fancy carriage, It is the olfactory equivalent of a fire that refuses to go out."
Why you need it: Because true atmosphere requires more than just dim lighting; it requires a scent that anchors you in the season. This isn't a sickly-sweet, artificial pumpkin. It is a rich, spicy, sophisticated blend that makes your home feel like a fortress of warmth against the gray Seattle sky. It is the perfect companion for your bone china mug and your brooding cat.
The author keeps this burning whenever the fog rolls in, which is to say, often. Link here__
Dossier Aquatic Vanilla
The Critique: Mary spent her summers by the water, and she would find this scent deeply nostalgic, not for the storm, but for the calm after.
"It is a curious and lovely thing," she would muse, tilting the minimalist bottle. "It smells of the ocean, yes, but not the dangerous, freezing ocean. This is the scent of a seaside holiday. It is the salt air clinging to a wool sweater, mixed with the warmth of the sweet vanilla tea you drink to warm up. It is contradictions made harmonious."
Why you need it: It captures the specific feeling of walking along the Hudson or the Seaport on a brisk day. That mix of cold, fresh air and the warm, sweet comfort of your own skin. It is effortless and airy, for the woman who finds peace in open spaces and warm coats.
I could not find actual Aquatic Vanilla, so here is the next best thing … link here
Burberry Goddess Eau de Parfum
The Critique: Mary would not see this as a weapon, but as a refuge. She spent her life running from storms; she would recognize this scent as the warm, lit window of a home she wishes she could enter.
"It is the scent of secret feminine sweetness," she would say, holding the golden bottle to the light. "It lacks the sharp edges of pride. This is not a woman who conquers the world; she is the woman who makes the world bearable. She wanders the quiet halls of the gallery, not to be seen, but to feel and then she retreats to the café."
"It smells of warm vanilla and sifted sugar. It smells of the specific joy of eating a mille-feuille while the rain falls outside. It is soft. It is beautiful. It is the woman who smiles at the monster and offers him a seat."
Why you need it: Because we cannot always be brooding intellectuals. Sometimes, we want to be the main character in a rom-com who wears a beige trench coat, knows exactly which museum has the best lighting on an ordinary Tuesday, and believes that a distinct lack of vanilla is a tragedy. It is approachable, edible luxury. Link here
Laneige Lip Glowy Balm in Berry
The Critique: Even a Gothic writer appreciates the simple necessity of care. She would see this little tube as a small, daily act of self-love.
"A rouge for the modern age," she would note. "It brings the color of crushed berries to the lips, a sign of health and vitality. It is a small sweetness, a little luxury that says one is alive and taking care."
Why you need it: Because looking "undone" is only chic if you are actually hydrated. This offers that perfect, subtle tint that suggests you've just come in from a brisk walk in the park. Or Cemetery. Link Here
Cupids Ransom: Glass Coffin
The Critique: Mary would pause at this bottle. She would not touch it immediately; she would simply stare at it, captivated by the name.
"Finally," she would breathe, her voice barely a whisper. "A scent that understands the terrible beauty of stillness. This is not the scent of the living, breathing, chaotic world. This is the scent of a moment frozen in time. It smells of the first frost on a red apple. It smells of white flowers trapped in ice. It is the story of a girl who did not die, but simply... waited."
"It is exquisite. It is the silence of the forest after the snow has fallen. It is a beauty that cannot be touched, only admired through the glass. It is haunting, yet completely irresistible."
Why you need it: Because every sophisticated woman needs a signature scent that feels like a secret. Glass Coffin is for the days when you want to feel untouchable, ethereal, and timeless. It is crisp, clean, and possesses a delicate, cold sweetness that lingers like a memory. It is the scent of a fairy tale, but the original version; the one with teeth. Link here - Glass Coffin
Forever Florals Pikake Hawaiian Jasmine Cologne
The Critique: Mary Shelley would lift this humble bottle and feel the warmth radiating from it, a stark contrast to the gray rain against the window.
"The Sublime," she would declare, her eyes brightening. "We spend so much time in the shadows that we forget the brilliance of the light. This scent is pure joy. It is the smell of a world that has never known winter. It is the white jasmine flower basking in the golden hour, untouched by frost or worry."
"It is not a memory of something lost; it is a promise of something eternal. It smells of salt on warm skin, of the wind moving through the palms, of absolute, unadulterated paradise."
Why you need it: Because sometimes, sophisticated complexity is overrated. You don’t need a scent that challenges you; you need a scent that holds you. This is sunshine in a bottle. It is a linear, beautiful blast of Pikake that instantly transports you from a cramped apartment to a lanai overlooking the Pacific. It is the olfactory equivalent of a deep, restorative breath.
The author wears this whenever she needs to remember that somewhere, the sun is shining. Link here
Miss Dior Eau de Parfum
The Critique: Mary would recognize this immediately as the scent of pure, unadulterated femininity, a reminder of the beauty that persists in the world.
"A bouquet that never fades," she would observe gently. "It is the scent of the Botanical Gardens in bloom. It is polite, certainly, but it is also joyous. It reminds me of the letters we write to friends we miss, full of optimism and flowers. It is the scent of a woman who keeps fresh peonies on her table, simply because she likes to look at them."
Why you need it: It is the ultimate "pretty" scent. It doesn't need to be complicated or brooding; it just needs to smell lovely. It is for the days when you want to feel put-together, graceful, and classic. Link here
Dossier Oud & Rose on Fire
The Critique: Mary would look at this bottle not with scientific curiosity, but with a flush rising to her cheeks. She wrote of monsters, yes, but she also lived a scandalous, passionate life across Europe with a poet. She knows exactly what this scent is for.
"Dangerous," she would purr, the word lingering. "This is not the rose of the garden. This is the rose that blooms only in the heat of the body. The oud is dark, animalic…it smells of skin and secrets. And the fire... oh, the fire. It is the scent of a love affair that threatens to burn the house down, yet you cannot bring yourself to extinguish it."
"It is intoxicating. It smells of saffron and forbidden things. It is the scent of the hour past midnight, when all the guests have gone, and only the obsession remains."
Why you need it: Because sometimes, you don't want to be charming; you want to be devoured. This is your "date night" weapon of mass destruction. It is smoky, resinous, and deeply sensual. It projects an aura of absolute confidence and unbuttoned elegance. Wear this when you intend to leave a lasting mark on someone’s memory, or their pillowcase.
The author wears this only when she is up to no good. Link here
Flameless Votive Candle
The Critique: Mary Shelley, the author of The Modern Prometheus, would be absolutely riveted by this little object. She who wrote of electricity granting life would see this as a masterful taming of the elements.
"A flame that does not burn," she would marvel, hovering her hand over the cool light. "It dances like a spirit, it flickers with the same anxious energy as a real candle, yet it holds no heat. It is a ghost of a fire. It creates the shadows we crave; the drama, the mood…but it demands no sacrifice."
"It is the perfect compromise between the Romantic aesthetic and the reality of living with a Beast." (She would glance respectfully at George). "It acknowledges that beauty need not always be dangerous."
Why you need it: Because you want the atmosphere of a 19th-century heroine writing letters by candlelight, but you also live with a long-haired cat who lacks a sense of self-preservation. This little light allows you to keep the "mood" going indefinitely, without the constant anxiety of burning down your apartment. It is the illusion of danger, with none of the consequences, the ultimate luxury for the pet owner.
The author keeps this "lit" 24/7, much to the confusion of her neighbors. Link Here
The Familiar and the Vessel
The Silent Guardian: George & Lenox Bone China Mug
The Critique: Mary Shelley once wrote, “There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand.” She was likely talking about a cat.
George does not merely sit on the bed; he presides over it. With the fur of a storm cloud and the gaze of a disappointed Victorian father, he acts as the silent critic of my morning routine. He is my familiar, the only creature who understands that the morning hours are for contemplation, not conversation. He watches me drink my coffee with an air of knowing superiority, perhaps remembering a past life where he was a king and I was merely the cupbearer.
And what of the cup?
The Artifact: We must discuss the vessel. It is a Lenox mug, crafted from real bone china. This one I am drinking from is the “Entertain 365” one but alas I cannot find one on Amazon so below is the Lenox Eternal.
Mary would be captivated by the term "bone china" the idea that something so delicate, translucent, and beautiful is forged from the ashes of the organic. It is a gothic paradox: mortality made permanent and elegant.
I have scoured the modern marketplaces for a duplicate of my beloved original, a quest as maddening as Victor’s search for the spark of life. The exact pattern remains elusive, lost to the archives of time, but I have found its spiritual twin.
Why you need it: The Lenox Eternal is the closest heir to the throne. It possesses that specific, weightless quality that only real bone china has, it holds the heat without burning the hand, and the rim feels like glass against the lips. In a world of clunky ceramic, drinking from bone china feels like a secret act of aristocracy. It is the only vessel worthy of toasting George my cat, who accepts the tribute with a slow blink.
The author’s cat, George, was unavailable for comment as he was currently busy napping on a silk pillow.
Could not find original mug as above but found next best thing! The Lenox Eternal - link here
