My Debut Collection
About Me
I will define myself in any way but linear. Why make it easy? Especially with you, the reader I do not know. The reader who happens to be reading this–by some measure of accident or curiosity or serendipity–to learn more about me. So out of anonymous kindness, I offer you a series of clues that make this a zig-zag journey, rather than a straight read.
Favorite color: blue–no, cobalt blue, juxtaposed to greenish-blue, tone-on-tone (isn’t life more tone-on-tone than black and white, anyway?). Origin: Greek–more precisely, a dark blonde Greek, with dark blue eyes–lyrically speaking, a physical replica of an ancient Greek, immersed in Sophocles and Pericles, with a love of wrestling and architecture and politics….more than modern Greece, and prone to throwing plates, and having temper tantrums, and kissing men and women in the streets I do not know. Delusion: that I am descendant of Greek mythology–not of Zeus, probably of Poseidon, who sped across water with ideas and anger and love in his heart.
Born: 1957–when there were 48 states, and, on the U.S. flag, 48 stars. More precisely, in August 1957, on a steaming hot day, and I heard my father missed a doubleheader at Yankee Stadium waiting for me to be born, but sold two (identical) cars (he was a car salesman) when he told his client he had a boy. Child of the 50’s: from this era, a love of old movies (e.g. A Streetcar Named Desire, From Here To Eternity), where sexuality simmered under puritanical beauty, incarnated by such beautiful, varnished stars as Vivien Leigh and Marlon Brando, Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster. Sex: anatomically, at birth, male…..and brought up, surrounded by peer pressure, thus, male….and grew up, pursuing male archetypes like Lorne Greene from Bonanza, also male. But toward teenage-hood, I felt the shroud of being slightly different from other so-called “men”, where my fear of sex drove me to be very athletic and play baseball, lacrosse and run track. Lover of weightlifting, I still burn off my whispering desires.
Now I am (still) male, and, recently, through political convention, further pushed to define myself as “cis male”, trying to learn the new language of pronouns, and navigate the fluidity of the world rejecting labels, biological boundaries, and identity politics. An adventurer, I love rainstorms and long stretches of sun. Such extreme discomfort kindles gratefulness and good thinking. Sex drive: I am inclined to believe this was strong since I was an infant–who knows? And after forays into much anonymous sex, with men and women and everything in between, and, then, intimate sex, with women, leading to marriage, and, then with men, leading to divorce from a woman, and then with more men again, leading to re-marry a man, I am relatively happy, and not entirely lonely.
Business: I love the technical art of creating economies, employment, processes, hard goods, soft goods, and community. I grew up in the beauty industry: I know more about lipstick and mascara than any drag queen, contrasted by the fact I am a former professional rugby player. In France. (If I were in drag, I would be extremely ground-breaking, literally, and break my stilettos while falling thunderously to stage.). CEO of a company that makes fragrances–such a lovely art!–I create scents to kindle memory, intimacy, confidence and sex. This is my bailiwick and source of survival. In this domain, I worked with celebrities and loved their courage and creativity: Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, Celine Dion, Halle Berry, Heidi Klum, Kate Moss, Kylie Minogue, Victoria Beckham, Gisele Bundchen, Amber Heard….the name-dropping parade continues. All women, mind you, who taught me about the business of fame through art, artifice and talent.
“Fragrance guru and consummate executive Stelios Mormoris applies his powerful sensory gifts to his evocative, candid, and intimate poetry. He epitomizes the creative imagination at work.”
—Renée Fleming
Intimacy: my husband, Robert, and I spend our four seasons together, usually at home, being bored together, and still transfixed by each other after 21 years of marriage. We read books side-by-side, then swap after we are done, and compare notes. He makes a good meatloaf, and I make a good baked scallops with bacon and apple sauce. We spend time in front of the fireplace in our country home talking constantly, usually drinking coffee and French sparkling water (La Badoit)…and, sometimes, for a touch of glamour, partake in deux kir royaux. We often cuddle with our three canines: Zeus, Zöe and Apollo, whom we consider angels in the form of Japanese dogs (Shiba-Inu), and with whom we take daily constitutionals through the woods behind the house. Our nature walks reveal endless surprises: dead pine trees, who once flourished for years….with small seedlings in their place….or bright orange mushrooms that look poisonous….or a field of clover that grows out of nowhere, brimming with bees.
And always the chittering birds, somewhere, over us, as active as our turbulent and noble dreams, as we walk in lockstep, even in the weak light of winter.
Nothing is more touching than nature. Or being touched by the right person. Or idea. Or poem. Stelios
