A Letter from Paris Found in Granny Jay's Suitcase

A charming postcard from glamorous Genevieve in Paris, playfully reassuring her sister of her upcoming visit.

Granny Jay read the letter twice before folding it neatly back into its envelope.

For years, Geneviève had lived in Paris, returning home whenever she could. Yet every visit seemed to bring the same mystery.

She never appeared to age.

While Granny Jay had earned every laugh line, every wrinkle and every silver strand through a life well lived, Geneviève somehow arrived looking as fresh as she had twenty years before.

Naturally, this was deeply suspicious.

When her sister finally arrived, elegant as ever, Granny Jay wasted little time.

"What is your secret?"

Geneviève laughed.

"No secret. Just good skincare."

From her handbag she produced a small glass bottle filled with golden oil.

"It comes from one of the finest shops in Paris."

Granny Jay examined the bottle carefully.

It smelled luxurious.

Expensive.

Possibly magical.

That evening she applied a few drops before bed.

By morning her skin felt soft, smooth and wonderfully comfortable.

The Parisians, she reluctantly admitted, might be onto something.

There was only one problem.

The ingredients listed on the bottle were nearly impossible to find in her little corner of the Cape.

So off she went to see Oom Hendricks.

The botanist studied the bottle through his spectacles.

"Hmm."

He sniffed.

"Hmmm."

He turned it upside down.

"HMMMM."

Granny Jay waited patiently.

Finally he looked up.

"The French have made a very fine oil."

"I know that," said Granny Jay. "Can we make one?"

Oom Hendricks smiled.

"Not exactly."

Her shoulders dropped.

"But," he continued, "we can make one better suited to the Cape."

The two spent weeks experimenting.

They chose oils that nourished and softened the skin, then looked to the plants growing around them for inspiration.

There was Rooibos, treasured for generations.

A touch of Buchu from the mountain paths.

Geranium for its delicate fragrance.

Botanicals that carried the spirit of the Cape rather than the boulevards of Paris.

Bottle after bottle was tested.

Some were too heavy.

Others too fragrant.

One memorable attempt smelled so strongly of herbs that even Oom Hendricks refused to use it.

At last they found the perfect balance.

Light.

Luxurious.

Nourishing.

A facial oil that left the skin glowing without feeling greasy.

When Geneviève returned the following year, Granny Jay handed her a small bottle.

"What is this?" her sister asked.

"My answer to Paris."

Geneviève applied a few drops and smiled.

"Sister," she said, "I believe you've improved upon it."

Oom Hendricks later claimed that Paris may have inspired the idea, but the mountains deserved the credit.

Granny Jay thought that sounded exactly like something a botanist would say.

And for once, she agreed.

— From the Correspondence of Granny Jay and Geneviève