Perfume is Pleasure

Mona (the real Mona) lives in Aspen, Colorado with Missy, pictured here. Mona is an entrepreneur and owner of Main Street Reprographics, a digital graphics company.  Father Ray, a pilot now deceased, often brought fragrant potions home from his world travels to little Mona who developed rich tastes in scent early on. The journey begins.

Mona left home in her late teens to begin a career in printing. Arriving at the airport upon transplantation from Connecticut to Colorado, she felt lost. But then, getting a whiff of her own baggage, realized “it smelled like me.” Mona was suddenly grounded, returned to herself. The scent? Civet.

Closer to the present, I tell her about my obsession: Personal delivery of scents that bring exquisite pleasure. A one-on-one experience. Mona shares her history: Opum, Beautiful, Fracas, L’Air du Temps, No. 5. I see  some patterns and reply with an array of small glass vials of commercial scents containing olfactory tangents.  Mona selects her favorites: Aromatics Elixer and Cannabis Santal. I explain emerging themes. Together, we confirm my observations about her preference for various notes.

The list grows: Amber, musk, nutmeg, cardamom, oakmoss, sandalwood, clary sage, vetiver. The memory and the experience of distinct smells crystallize in Mona’s mind. We can hardly ignore the tuberose and mandarin - these notes keep coming up. We are in mid journey.

But civet! The longing in Mona’s voice is pungent. We must have the real thing.

To meet the needs of clients desiring a unique fragrance, something crafted just for them, I have gotten to know perfumers with a variety of specialties. One of them is Abdus Salaam Attar, also known as Dominique Dubrana, a natural perfumer in Italy whom I had reason to believe might rise to this occasion. We agreed that I would coach Mona to the point that she was ready to request her scent.

I guided Mona to select for him the top three fragrance notes, the notes that make her heart sing: They are mandarin, tuberose and civet. All my clients should intuitively select top, middle and base! She mentions other favored notes as well. Abdus Salaam Attar designs “Mona” and sends it to her.

The word from Aspen: “I got it!! I just got my perfume. It is like nothing I have ever smelled before. It is a little bit musky, powdery. It is very light, like a feather. It is not an old scent, it is not a young scent, it seems very natural. As soon as I can I would like to create another. What fun having my own scent. I feel sooo special.” The journey will continue.

Abdus Salaam Attar took a special liking to this custom creation, shared it with some Basenotes bloggers who have commented on a few threads upon the scent, and added it to his own permanent repetoire of scents available to the general public. My own personal comments on Mona Lisa are on Basenotes along with the rest. On this post, I write as the midwife, not as a perfume critic. Obtain your sample here. And of course, contact the real Mona for all of your digital printing needs. You don’t even need to travel to Aspen, Colorado, though of course, you want to!

Some wear fragrance as a private conversation with self and those close by. Leaning in for a kiss, that’s the time another should detect your fragrance, according to Anya McCoy, who created cult favorite scents Kaffir, Pan and Fairchild and heads the Natural Perfumers Guild. Many are frustrated, however, when their scent goes unnoticed by a broader audience. They expect those compliments to keep flowing even after they’re gone. “Wasn’t it nice when Mona was here? Too bad she left, but at least we have her perfume in the air to remember her by…”

I have close friends in both camps.

Some perfumes that won’t let us forget you:

Addict
Agent Provocateur
Alliage
Aromatics Elixir
Calandre
Coco
Estée
Eternity
Farnesiana
Fracas
Habitana
Opium
Paloma Picasso
Youth Dew
Yvresse

Sillage (pronounced see-yaaaj) is the French word for wake. To see additional recommendations for “great sillage” read Perfume of Life, a playful and informative blog.

Photo by Sara Zarrella, my neighbor at the Grace Ormonde Grand Bridal Show. Sara’s photos make a cameo on this bridal show video by Bruce Cullen at Dream Images - look for a wire cage sporting her great shots. You’ll enjoy the gorgeous runway show, jazzy music and may even catch a glimpse of my home page banner, 16 feet tall!

Self indulgence has its limits. So when you’ve reached yours, think of others less fortunate. Those furry and hairy individuals lacking the means to obtain perfume and cosmetics you take for granted.

I remember my amusement over last year’s launch of Juicy Criture. OK, my horror, but tinged with amusement. A friend who promotes Liz Claiborne scents including sister Juicy Couture line said she had just put on a Nordstrom event for cats and dogs. Creativity kudos to whomever first cooked up the notion of “dog nail pawlish.”

Until quite recently, I assumed the beauty industry’s interest in four-legged consumers was limited to household pets. But no! Fragrance is coming on strong in the large animal community. Sniffapalooza magazine now features Brandy and its creator Patricia Namm. Patricia’s muse in designing the scent? A palomino horse by the same name. “Horses don’t usually like perfume,” Patricia told a group of fragrance enthusiasts at Sniffapalooza’s New York Fall Ball. But this scent, “with its suggestion of distant fields, rolling aromatic meadows, apple and peach top notes and herbaceous heart notes” appeals to the horsey set, and most importantly, to Brandy himself.

Perfume for pooches. Perfume for ponies. Why didn’t I think of that?

The discerning dog above is reticent about top notes of the L’Artisan Parfumeur scent presented for his approval at New York’s exquisite Aedes de Venustas boutique. Attends le drydown, mon petit chien.

Kymrie and I spent two delicious mornings and an afternoon at the mall to find her perfect scent.

She laughed, swooned, occasionally turned up her nose and finally fell in love… Her recap: “Thanks so much for such a great experience.  It was so great to learn a little more about myself and to have the benefit of your expertise.  Now the broad world of fragrance has been opened up and I can see why you have such a passion for it.  Many thanks.”

Hideous shoes on feet attached to otherwise fabulously turned-out people are sometimes perfect. We imagine that disgusting colors seem right, even those producing eerie flashbacks of refrigerators, Twiggy and Peter Max posters. Given repeated exposure to the latest look, ugly becomes beautiful. We succumb to groupthink and the Emperor is oh-so-chic, new duds or no.

Arguably, in the case of clothes, the mandate is visible, the standards, clear. We must have those perky, flouncy, unnaturally tight, loose, short, long, bright or dull items in the magazine. We all go along, victims and perpetrators of style. I get it.

What I don’t get is this: Why do so many fragrance shoppers ask for the latest thing? Hand-held computing devices get better. Medical technology gets better, notwithstanding the social and personal dilemmas that result. Admittedly, new aroma chemicals have created perfume possibilities that never existed before. But should we conclude that new, not-yet-improved and highly promoted fragrances are automatically superior to the rest? No.

Pause to consider the subset of folks noticing your scent who will enjoy it more or think better of you if this scent launched in 2009 instead of 2003 or 1956. Do they know or care?

Now that’s allure!

Pavillon des Fleurs by Septimanie Perfumes is good. The field of critics is crowded, so I try to avoid pure perfume commentary, focusing instead on the match between scent and wearer.

Quite simply, I like the smell and was enchanted by Jeanne Weber, Septimanie designer, whom I met at New York’s Takashimaya emporium. Upon smelling her Egyptian jasmine and Comoran ylang-rich Pavillon des Fleurs, my mind drifted to Carol, Eva and Mona. These are friends who love the suggestive scent of posies like jasmine, ylang-ylang and tuberose that emit animal smells to attract pollinators.

Oriental fragrances are not the only femme fatales in town. Amber, musk, vanilla, sandalwood, patchouli and spice get an occasional run for their money from floral contenders in the really grown-up perfume market.

Pavillon des Fleurs also features orange blossom, lily of the valley, English leather, clove, and iris.

These days, grown women gleefully adorn themselves with eau de cotton candy. Perhaps this does not conform to your standards for olfactory refinement. Still, there’s that urge to pig out without gaining weight. Fear not, Sephora can outfit you with dozens of vanilla variations in a choice of eau de toilette, bath gel or lotion. Decisions, decisions. Do you want your vanilla with a side of mocha, apricot, coconut or grapefruit? My theory on our love affair with vanilla: and the other yummy smells: Name one friend or relative who was ever mugged in a dark alley by a chocolate chip cookie.

Sad, so sad. When they tell me: “I love it, but I just can’t wear perfume.” I introduced a woman to a scent that captured the best of everything, smells she loved and none that would arouse an allergic response, or so we had hoped.

“Let’s do it!” She was optimistic. “Sure wish I knew more about what might set off a reaction,” I cautioned. ”Do you really want this on your skin?” She insisted and I watched as tiny red bumps emerged on her arm. Thus ended her perfume explorations for the evening.

What is an allergy-prone fragrance lover to do? Aromatic jewelry has a long and sweet-smelling history, documented in a truly gorgeous book by Annette Green and Linda Dyett called Secrets of Aromatic Jewelry. I gasped with delight while gorging on the photos of exotic wearable art.

Last week, Don’t Retire, Rewire author Jeri Sedlar, who encourages career-changers pursuing a passion, introduced me to Cathy Gins, founder and designer of Aromawear. Aromawear is a scent locket offered as a necklace pendant, bracelet or key chain to hold the fine fragrance or essential oils of your choice. Some disperse scent continuously, while others shut tight, only to release the fragrance on command when opened. I get particularly bored by frilly, delicate jewelry and appreciate the clean lines, strong and yet sensual design of Aromawear. Beautiful, even if it didn’t offer olfactory thrills, it comes in gold or silver, up to you.

Of course the severity of headaches and allergies varies greatly by individual, but I believe that aromatic jewelry is a great solution for many. It is also a nice option for folks who want to change their fragrance during the day or want the option to switch it on and off.

If pressed to share my favorite perfume, I would say it is Chanel Cristalle. I don’t always have it, but have returned to it more times than to any other scent.

In a women’s beauty magazine, actor Chris Noth commented: “Cristalle — oh, man, I have to get on my knees and beg for a whiff. It makes me stop dead in my tracks.” Celebrity endorsements aside, not many are with me on this. Cristalle is the opposite of a warm and fuzzy fragrance. It seems to say: “I may be pretty, but I’m all about business, buster.” After a long period of disloyalty, I saw it on the dressing table of a new friend and tried it on. Much better than I remembered. On that day, I particularly noticed the lushness underneath the severity of Cristalle.

Another time I purchased Cristalle online and was surprised at how much sharper, greener it was than my previous bottle. Still very pleasant, but in a more bracing way, I assumed it had been a knock-off, only later learning that Chanel uses a different formula in the eau de parfum and the eau de toilette. Chanel and Hermès are known for this. A good reason to try before we buy!

Once, on a train from New York to Boston, I smelled Cristalle. A woman in her early 60’s, eyes closed, slept on her husband’s shoulder. Comfortable, distinguished, surely the one. I held myself back from approaching: “Excuse me, I notice you are wearing a fragrance I have admired for decades. Who are you and when did you find Cristalle? Is it your signature scent or part of a fragrance wardrobe? You have great taste. I love you. But so sorry to interrupt. Thank you. Goodbye. But one more thing, I meant to tell you that you smell great.”

“Smells like my grandmother.” This popular variant of “smells like an old lady” is often applied to powdery, musty florals and spicy oriental fragrances and is not a compliment. Fact: 100 out of 100 women I have interviewed will not wear their mother’s signature scent. I suspect a girly backflip on Oedipus taboos.

Would we like this scent it if it weren’t for mom or grandma? If we could erase the memory of a perfume, how different would it smell? When grandmothers, not yet mothers, first donned Estée Lauder’s Youth Dew, how did it smell to them? Keep in mind: Their grandmothers knew that nice girls didn’t wear perfume. Did it smell old and fusty, the Trojan horse in the form of brown bath oil Estée used to scent a generation of women who would not buy real perfume for themselves? Or did it just smell rich and spicy? What was the mental image evoked by Youth Dew, the emotional response in 1953?

We rule out once-popular fragrances simply because we’ve smelled them before. Isn’t that a little like: “Cheese, never touch the stuff, my folks always had cheese around.” Not that I think people reject a scent to be difficult. No, it really smells dated, and in a bad way, not like old is new again and black is the new black.

If I had $10 for every woman who has told me she won’t wear Clinique Happy because her mother wore it, I could buy myself a bottle of Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Pampelune. If these women gave me $15 instead, I might spring for Annick Goutal’s Eau d’Hadrien. With the change I would buy some really good grapefruits and eat them.

Along the same lines, if I had $20 for every woman who won’t wear Chanel No. 5 because 2) her mother wore it, 2) her step-mother wore it or 3) her sadistic boss wore it, I would buy: Bois de Portugal, Cabochard, Cuir de Russie, Elle, Elle, Ferme tes Yeux and Vent Vert. Note that these fragrances are not floral aldehydes in the same spirit as Chanel No. 5 but I want them very badly.

I was in my early 40’s, driving home from work at the end of a day. On this day my gas tank read very low near a Mobil station I had not patronized before. Inside, they had tiny fragrance samples for sale. Real perfumes, not the “if you love Cinnabar, you’ll love Cinnabore” type. I believed that anything as popular as Chanel No. 5 had to be awful, but curiosity won out. For practically nothing, I got to try the world’s best selling fragrance of all time. In this case, that many people are not wrong. You should try it, and pretend that your mother didn’t wear it. Forget what I said about Oedipus and the wicked witch too.

You deserve the right scent, be it old or newborn. Don’t let the ads and sales clerks push you around. Smell for yourself and decide.