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"All women swoon. It impairs judgment completely. You’re a guy, you wear this, you could be blind, no legs, no arms, doesn't matter — you’re getting it," says Temah, the purveyor of Burlap, about a perfume she sells there. The mystery perfume is the theoretical essence of Jules Vern in a martini glass, and it certainly seems to be doing the job for Cintra Wilson in this week's Critical Shopper. Temah opened the store in Septemer in spite of the economy, saying: "everyone is over being sad." If people are over being sad, does that mean they're over being broke? She does, however, make us want to buy both the lustful ghost of Jules Verne and a Pre-Raphaelite bust of a maiden's head that turns out to be a candle. When you light it, her head glows and she cries. It's poetic and slightly creepy, just the way we like it, but the day we spend $450 for a candle is the day our landlord has a very stern talk with us. [NYT]