Finding the Perfect Scent - So What's the Fuss?

Most people don't know that much about perfume and cologne. Combine basic ignorance with any of the following:

• A scent that once thrilled, but now annoys
  
• A discontinued favorite
• Confusion morphing to outrage as we accept the reality that manufacturers tamper with the formula and eau de wonderful is now eau de just ok
• Discomfort with the department store scene
• The search for one's very first fragrance -- a potentially joyful but intimidating rite of passage at any age

Goodness knows Adonis and Aphrodite in the glossy perfume advertisement (you know, the three pager with no scent strip) are not spilling the juice in the bottle. Her face says, “You bore me to tears, but I can’t live without Brand X perfume.” His face says: “It’s the body, stupid, and Brand Y cologne.” A picture is worth one thousand words and precisely zero smells.

Actually, the words don’t help much either. Perfume Advertising Bingo (scroll down the page, you won't miss it) spoofs the futility of seeking guidance from industry promotions. At any moment in time, a fragrance manufacturer, advertiser or retailer may not be motivated to promote the scent that is Perfect for You. You suspect that it exists. But how to find it…

Fickle Fragrance Fashion

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 2008 instead of 2003 or 1956. Do they know or care?

The Music of Perfume - Michael Edwards Sings

For some, it is the pilgrimage to Grasse, for others, the Osmothèque. You readers without a long history of perfume obsession, consider the birth of a baby, sunrise over the Grand Canyon, falling in love for the first time. Am I making myself clear?

Mascara severely threatened, I dabbed gently as Michael Edwards begin his address to the large gathering at Sniffapalooza's recent Holiday Fête. Fragrance classification rapture. A peak experience for one lured out of corporate life to transform the way Americans buy scent, armed only with her nose, extraordinary concern for the happiness of others and Michael Edwards' Fragrances of the World.

It started in 2000 when a friend thought she could put me off talking about perfume by getting me to read about it instead. Marjorie, you failed. Thus began the tour through Chandler Burr's The Emperor of Scent, a biography of Luca Turin, with its goosebump provoking stories about a biochemist's first love, the smell of wonderful perfume. Burr's account of Dioressence, as heard in one of his many interviews with Turin, captivated me. The serendipitous mixture of a Miss Dior knock-off, in soap form, and the finest ambergris. Enthralled, I read about Turin's comment that a new fragrance reminded him of two-tone fabric shifting color in the light, and his subsequent discovery of the written brief (narrative blueprint for a new scent) including the very image of a fabric he described. Turin's lush prose describing scents, to me, was poetry more poetic than Poe.

I could blame my new career as a fragrance educator and coach on Burr and Turin, and I often do. It is Edwards, however, who should take the heat.

While fragrance critics and connoisseurs abound, only one chose to transform the overwhelming array of modern fragrances into a catalog indexed by scent name, by manufacturer, by intended sex(es) of the wearer, by fragrance family and by style ranging from fresh, "the most effervescent fragrances in a family," to crisp, "lively interpretations with a crisp accent," then on to classical, "balanced notes characteristic of the family," and ending finally with rich, "the richer, deeper fragrances."

Edwards saw the opportunity for manufacturers, retailers and consumers alike to match taste with juice. He understands and articulates every year, for a growing number of new launches (last year 800, now 1,000), the qualities that link and differentiate perfumes. While some retailers have invested in Edwards' books and software, I believe that the use of his work is only in its infancy. Edwards' classifications have boundless potential to increase the joy of perfume lovers everywhere.

But back to the ostensible topic for this post: Music and perfume. A growing trend in fragrance critique is to draw parallels between music and scent. Burr did this to the delight of a sell-out crowd at last week's New York Times TimesTalk. Turin has previously compared Shalimar to Chopin’s Nocturnes, Silver Iris Mist to Schumann’s Arabesque, Tommy Girl to Corelli or to Prokofiev’s First Symphony and Mitsouko to Brahms. Many other comparisons can be found in Turin's online and print opus.

I hadn't truly heard the music of perfume until Michael Edwards sung to me, a capella, the differences among lily of the valley, gardenia, rose and tuberose. In a falsetto, he began, "Diorissimo...the muguet," still high, but moderated, "Marc Jacobs...the gardenia," lower, "Paris...the rose," then finally, with deep resonance, "Fracas...the tuberose."

Standing ovation, of course. So maybe I was the only one actually cheering. Did you say Michael or Michelangelo?


Photo by Linda Gerlach, artist and former Wall Street executive turned fragrance designer - Love the Key to Life, her first fragrant creation

Stuffing is Love OR Out on a Limb in Limerick

Not an aphrodisiac? My stuffing? I beg your pardon! There is nothing that makes me want to rush off to the bedroom (to sleep) like four or five servings of my beloved stuffing. I personally opt out of dried cranberries, walnuts and other items fine in the context of fruitcake. Of course I respect the creativity of those who improvise, and will certainly eat! My own blend: A few bags of unseasoned bread cubes are the vehicle for about 250 times their weight in onions, celery and only slightly frostbitten sage and rosemary, some thyme, lots of black pepper, drippings, salt and schmaltz*.

There once was a woman from Granby
Who knew just how good stuffing can be
When jasmine and rose
Became dull for her nose

uh, oh... Help!

She chopped onions, then more
'Till tears flowed out the door
Then said: _________________________

Please finish the limerick with your comments.


* chicken fat - no offense to turkeys

Go for Broke, Alice

My friend Alice has decided to seize the day. Not just today. Every day. She went swimming with turtles in the Galapagos and threw her own 40th birthday party. You would not put your money on Alice in a foot race, but she drives a Jaguar. This, technically, makes her a fast woman.

Alice hinted that my blog posts might be getting windy and had the extraordinary perspective to suggest her recent episode with Boucheron Jaipur would liven things up. Jaipur is one of Sophia Grojsman's creations, a sister of White Linen, Calyx, Paris, Bvlgari Pour Femme, Yvress, Eternity, Trésor, White Diamonds, Beautiful and the new Outrageous, among others. It contains plum, apricot, peach, violet, rose (because Sophia never met a rose she didn't like), locust-tree, heliotrope, peony, iris, white musk and sandalwood. Nose Jean-Pierre-Mar collaborated with Grojsman on the scent.

Red herring!!! It doesn't matter what Jaipur smells like, but you should know that this is a perfume with pedigree, just as Alice is a person of great class. Kinda dry sense of humor, sometimes, best not to be the object... But overall, regal, generous, patient, intellectually gifted, a culture maven and great cook.

Alice told me two weeks ago, with great equanimity, that she broke her bottle. "Your Jaipur!" I gasped. "Yes," I could see her smiling though we spoke by phone. "The one you let me smell?" "Yes." "The one I loved?" "That one," Alice said in a consoling voice. I was confused by her reaction - no, by the lack of a reaction, and continued to probe.

Pretty straightforward case, as it happens, of a dropped bottle that broke and did not miraculously heal itself. Additional details did not change the basic outlines of the situation. Glass all over. Perfume all over. A bathroom and walk-in dressing area redolent of Jaipur.

How was Alice coping? "Oh, it's wonderful! Every time I walk anywhere near it smells just like Jaipur! I don't even have to spray it on."

Alice's perfume bottle is not completely empty. Her bathroom floor is completely full.

Carry on Alice. Go for broke!

P.S. Alice - need 40th birthday party photograph for inquiring readers.

Sophia Grojsman - You Make a Grown Man Cry

He wanted my advice on a new scent for his wife. We ruled out the orientals and woods. Nor did this seem a case for fruity, herbal, green or marine scents. My spousal interview quickly revealed that she, like her husband, was a self-contained individual, not the frilly, romantic type. Clouds of rich floral bouquet would not do. I offered a fragrance I admire and enjoy, always describing it as a dignified woman in pearls.

He inhaled Bvlgari Pour Femme. Suddenly his face reddened, eyes glistening. "What's wrong?" I asked, confused. "I want it!" he said with extreme seriousness. "What was that?" I prodded, shocked by his obvious physiological reaction. "Oh, nothing," he replied, avoiding my gaze momentarily, "something just caught me." I realized then that the scent of Sophia Grojsman's perfume had brought him to tears. Bvlgari Pour Femme contains Grojsman's unique blend of orange blossom, rosewood, bergamot, ylang-ylang, prelude rose, violet, mimosa, sambac jasmine, tea, musk, vetiver and iris.

I will never know the specific memory or precise emotion triggered by this scent. To the untrained eye, it appeared to be the purest, deepest love and admiration released under the spell of Bvlgari Pour Femme. Thank you, Sophia.

Perfume TMI

You probably have responsibilities: a job, family, house, maybe some other things you need to take care of. Call that “work.” Then there is spare time where you pursue the occasional interest. Start spending a lot of time at it and telling people: “Oh, Saturday mornings I always go _____ ing,” and you’ve got a hobby. Come Saturday night, if you’re still doing it in preference to food or , you are officially obsessed.

But the last condition mentioned is not yours. Yours is the well-balanced life, a pleasant mix of gainful, recreational and community-oriented activity. You enjoy creature comforts in moderation, neither glutton nor snob. A nice meal, a little wine, a light workout, Netflix, pretty dress, new drapes. Sensory stimulation, good, wholesome fun. Once in a while, you enjoy applying fragrance. A little perfume or cologne is uplifting. It feels good.

But always that niggling question: Which one? In 2007, according to Euromonitor, $3.3 billion was spent on fragrances in the U.S. alone. A good percentage of that on bottles opened once, only to sit on the dresser, maybe yours, as the sad reminder of an uninformed choice.

You want a great scent, but where is the fragrance equivalent of The Food Network, Cigar Aficionado or Consumer Reports? Where is someone to tell you the magic words that will send a cosmetics clerk scampering for your perfect scent?

If perfume is already prominent on your radar screen and you’d like to read more about 1,500 of your favorites, read Perfumes: The Guide, a spirited survey by Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez. See Amazon’s customer reviews for consumer and fragrance industry responses to the authors’ no-holds-barred reviews. To preserve the peace, the French used to say “les goûts et les couleurs ne se discutent pas” a rough mix of “to each his own” and “keep it to yourself.” Luca Turin, whose first guide was published in French, threw that advice out the window long ago.

Maybe you are still lost about finding your next perfume. Before we go further, please decide: Do you seriously want to spend six months or six years learning about top notes, middle notes and base notes, naturals vs. synthetics, dry-down and sillage? Do you see yourself making and trading decants on the Internet? Would you leave a decent paying corporate job to do this full time? Are you crazy?

My recommendation: Leave these expensive and time-consuming pursuits to the perfumistas, denizens of fragrant cyber-spots like Perfume Smellin' Things, Sniffapalooza, Perfume Posse, Now Smell This, Scented Salamander and Basenotes. After browsing sites like these, if you remain unconverted, consider yourself an occasional perfume website user. Still wondering about that perfect scent? Skip the next paragraph, but read on.

Having visited the sites above, you no longer view life the same way. I greet you as a brother, sister, friend. Please send me your contact information and receive details of my 12-step program for the likes of us, expected to begin 3rd quarter, 2009.

Take heart. It is reasonable not only to hope for, but also to find a wonderful scent without becoming a fragrance fanatic or researcher. Just as you would hire an accountant, dentist or electrician, you can hire a perfume consultant to ask you the right questions, have you smell some things, do all the thinking and move you quickly to the right bottle. Makes scents, no?

Women Pretending to be Flowers Pretending to be Insects

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.

Psssst! That Building Isn't Wearing Any Perfume!

I remember when it was enough to do sheetrock, add paint, furniture, rugs and drapes. At that point, you considered your building to be fully dressed. I also remember typewriters and telephones that didn't take messages for you. Come to think of it, I remember when you couldn't type any old string of words into Google and...

But I stray from the topic of indecent exposure in public spaces. This isn't about naked people, it's about naked spaces. Go downtown, to your favorite resort, casino or theme park and smell the chocolate or fresh laundry. So you thought it came from the merchandise or the goodies grandma was cooking in the back? Uhn, uhn.

Avery Gilbert, psychologist, smell scientist and entrepreneur devotes the Zombies at the Mall chapter of his new book, What the Nose Knows - The Science of Scent in Everyday Life to this issue: "Nasal persuasion is happening everywhere." MGM Grand in Las Vegas has up to nine scents going around the property all at once. At its own peril, Starbucks switched from fresh-ground to vacuum-sealed coffee. Something was missing from the consumer experience and sales slumped. Another Classic Coke story - Starbucks reversed course.


Marketers know that smells are a direct route to emotional connection with consumers. But is it true that all good smells will promote commerce? Gilbert explains "the congruency problem." Female students purchased more satin sleepwear in a lily of the valley scented experimental setting than they did when a sea mist spray was deployed. We want to connect what we see with what we smell. Scent must convey meaning related to the product or service for sale. The success of scent campaigns to encourage people to stay in a store longer, perceive the goods as trendier, or try a new product, according to Gilbert, depends on style, taste and culture. He comments that "marketers need a Nielsen rating for the nostrils."

What The Nose Knows chock-full of cultural, psychological, and smell-ogical insights conveyed in zesty, flowing prose. Avery Gilbert's style is erudite yet warm and friendly as your favorite uncle. Enjoy a great read extending far beyond the topic of this post!

Other good books dealing in scent marketing are: Whiff! The Revolution of Scent Communication in the Information Age, by C. Russell Brumfield and Brand Sense: Build Powerful Brands Through Touch, Taste, Smell, Sight and Sound by Martin Lindstrom. Raise your hand if you remember The Hidden Persuaders, by Vance Packard.

Scent Branding Notes

Oh, you want to know the notes? In her address to Fragrance Business, 2008, Sue Phillips, President of Scenterprises, Ltd. reported that hotels, casinos and retailers are using these notes and blends to delight their patrons and brand the experience: linden, green tea, geranium and cedar, ginger and white tea, bergamot and jasmine, lavender and sage, and hyacinth.

Sue suggests that businesses consider building materials, archictecture, colors and geography when considering a scent theme. Most importantly, she adds, the target customer mood must drive fragrance development.

Candle Therapy, Yankee Style

Home scenting goes upscale as your new taper exudes tobacco, fig or green bamboo.


We are ever-more-hip to the great mood a good smell can launch and home scenters now deal routinely with our mental health.

Rick Ruffalo, CEO and the marketing face of Yankee Candle, explained the new possibilities to a group of fragrance experts in September, 2008. Fragrance is used to enhance and remember events, to create environments and moods. Florals and musks for romance, vanilla and spice as invitations home, ozone and pine to relax, licorice and cinnamon to promote alertness and lavender for sweet dreams. Yankee Candle has innovated with No-Smella, the new anti-citronella that expels mosquitoes but refrains from competition with the scent of your favorite hot dog, hamburger and sausage. Highbrow stuff.

Last November, I had occasion to watch gifted scent critic Luca Turin's face as he smelled a votive of Yankee's Macintosh for the first time. "A date with Macintosh" was in order, he allowed.

Yankee Candle’s flagship store in South Deerfield, Massachusetts, affectionately dubbed The Scenter of the Universe, is a Disneyworld of home decorating products and scent experiences. This winter, you can buy candles in a room where it snows every four minutes.

The Future of Home Scent – Dieters Beware

Despite the rise of sophisticated notes like leather, sage, geranium and white tea in our ambient aromas, the gourmands reign supreme. Make no mistake, vanilla is here to stay! Home scent developers are expanding the dessert palate with fruit salad, marshmallow, crème brulée and butter cream. I was all nose, er, ears, as Karen Young from The Young Group shared her outlook on the smell of my house, and yours, at Fragrance Business 2008, an industry conference held last month.


How did Karen know I'm not spending as much time cleaning as I used to? She was ready with solutions. There are some home scenting jobs too tough for even the butteriest, creamiest vanilla. Bring the outside in to cover the smell of pets and children. That’s what purchasers of candles, diffusers and plug-ins are doing these days. Greener, less floral scents, clean and ozone notes fill the air. And for that touch of "haute candle-ture," expect new combinations of sweet and sour, fruits harvested from remote global locations, spice, wood and wine.

L'Artisan Parfumeur Coaches the Fragrance Industry

I recently heard François Duquesne of L'Artisan Parfumeur speak on the urgent need for aromatic reforms of all sorts. He urged a revival of authenticity, artistry and genuine personal engagement with fragrance consumers. What is the best way to develop and market scent? Kill the focus group, he commanded, and live with a few flops to staunch the flow of scents that are "too perfect to make a difference." Down with newness for its own sake. Stop training sales clerks and asking them to recall and recite marketing literature. Instead, forget the party line and take them to the fields where ingredients are grown, have them meet the perfumers and tell their own personal stories. Some distinctions that we make today may not be helpful. What is "niche?" In his native France, François explained: "niche is where the dog sleeps."

Dessert, Not Just for Dessert - More Ways to Satisfy that Sweet Tooth

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 choic 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.

Scent Memory Healing

Last night at Connecticut's Bee and Thistle Inn, peerless for comfort, cuisine, arts and culture, I met a dashing man who shared his love for Aromatics Elixir. He got that faraway look as he spoke of the perfume, and confessed to foisting it on his wife, though she is not a fan.

I recalled hounding a woman in a tropical climate, only to learn that the complex but ethereal scent attracting me was the very same. It smelled just right, even in the hot sun. Yet many who try this Clinique scent initially act like they've just gotten a whiff of some heavy like Youth Dew or Opium. The furrowed brow, the pursed lips and the inevitable comment about old ladies and/or my grandmother.

On another occasion when I asked a stranger about the marvelous fragrance, it had a funkier, hippie-vibe. Hint: patchouli, but hush-hush, the very mention of that leaf, despite its refreshing mint-family connections, clears any room.

This story has a purpose beyond perfume critique. Back to my new friend at the Inn. He was enjoying an evening at the rugby club with friends, all male. In burst a woman in trauma, just attacked on the street outside. She was emotionally out of control and no one could get her to talk. This went on. Finally one of the men, a burly police officer off-duty, commented: "You're wearing Aromatics." Immediately the assault victim snapped-to, and became herself.

So much talk about the personal memories triggered by scent and the places they take us. Now the idea that scent memories of another can foster healing in someone so in need. How strong is our desire to be known, to be recognized and remembered! This is the attraction of a "signature scent."

Get 'Em While They're Young

Following a playful scuffle over sniffing-rights to my "x-rated" jasmine oil, Kyron, Nate and Jasmine had finally agreed to share when this shot was taken. Along with Yonka, Marnise and Roxie, they almost beat me in an exuberant smell-athon at the Connecticut Youth Forum. It was thrilling to observe the stamina of young people choosing favorites from a large menu of woody, fresh, oriental and floral scents.

Introducing my new friends to the essentials of perfumery was great fun, especially after the jasmine riot ended. The group quickly abandoned my innocuous, sweet-smelling jasmine for a "love it or hate it" version, rich in indoles. Indoles have a decaying animal smell that attracts insects to flowers. Don't get squeamish; I will spare you further details on indoles. Just promise that you will try to understand as well as these young people how gorgeous they can be as part of a well-constructed perfume.

I delight in conducting sessions like this to help people find scents that bring exquisite pleasure.

A Funny Smell

Sandy smelled something funny. Everyone knows that fragrance can bring back memories, stir emotions and project style. But sometimes a scent is just fun, and funny! Sandy is Ticket Empress at The Connecticut Forum and participated in an fragrance event held there for mature youth.

What's Your Excuse?

We were headed to Montreal for a look at McGill University, since my son David has shown an interest in that school. On the way, we stopped downtown for an errand and got into a parking lot conversation with some friends we hadn't seen for a while. After we covered college (not my very favorite subject), Helena brought up perfume (my very favorite subject). She had read about my business in the local paper. Naturally, I asked if she wears perfume. "I'm lucky if I floss," came the reply.

Allergic but Yearning for Scent - Your Solution Awaits

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.

Get Your Free Fragrance Profile

To obtain a free and personalized fragrance profile e-mail me a list of your favorite fragrances with manufacturer's name, if you know it. Of course, I'd love comments on what you'd like to read about in this blog!

Nod a Napper

My inability to sleep in the middle of the day has always been a sore spot.

Even the high-performance motivational types say a short nap may be the best route to those world-changing things I have planned.

On Sundays, in particular, I coldly eye my husband and two sons. Sprawled out all over the house, they rub my nose in their Sabbath peace. Silent, oblivious, effortlessly demonstrating the Art of the Nap. My emotions range from envy to something less charitable. Desperately wishing to be as far out of it as they are, with ill-will towards all, and loudly, I go about important business.

A 1951 book by Paul Jellinek, The Psychological Basis of Perfumery, categorizes scents according to their effects on us: Narcotic, Erotic, Refreshing and Exalting. It has been a long week. The first effect catches my eye. Something to soothe and numb, to induce sleep or stupor. What is not to like?

Into a very small blue bottle, filled almost to the top with jojoba oil, I mix a little essence of amber, rose absolute (the very best Bulgarian type) and a touch of bergamot oil from my friend Bill Luebke at Goodscents. Wrists, neck, backs of the hands. Take me away… It has been several months now. Hoping that this public announcement will not break the spell, I share that the potion has worked every time. True, I use it only when fully committed: I will go to that special place. Still, the scent of sleep has not yet failed!

Cristalle and Me

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 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.”

Enough is Enough

Women have agonized over perfume application forever. Some maybe more than others. Some a lot less. You know the ones who spritzed without scruples. Cleopatra and her barge of rose petals floating up the Cydnus River to Tarsus for the well-planned seduction of Mark Antony. Fragrance-infused sails announced her arrival long before she came into view.

Napoleon Bonaparte would never consider going into battle unscented and liked his women perfumed as well. Every week, he ordered two quarts of violet cologne and somehow managed to consume sixty bottles of jasmine extract monthly. His first wife Josephine reportedly tolerated Napoleon's tastes, but generally fancied the stronger stuff, musk in particular. Eventually, he shifted his attention to Marie Louise who became his second wife, no doubt because she shared the emperor's affection for violets. Josephine, in a transitional snit, saturated their boudoir with musk, and the scent lingered for sixty years.

My mother-in-law says: “A little bit is OK, but too much is too much.” This must be a French-Canadian proverb. But what is too much? The Fragrance Foundation of America encourages us to layer our fragrances. We should start with a perfumed soap, bubble bath, cleansing gel or bath oil. Body lotion or cream will follow on damp skin. Continue the ritual with a lavish splash of eau de toilette and finish it off with perfume on pulse points. On a hot day, remember the powder.

But wait! The Foundation instructs us not to dominate our surroundings with perfume. A personal “circle of scent” should extend no further than the length of an arm extended from the body. Be careful that vigorous layering does not extend your personal circle to the entire planet!

How much? There are different schools of thought. I have a wonderful girlfriend, originally from the Mideast. When I meet her after work she smells rich and wonderful - not having applied any fragrance since early morning when she leaves her house. The woman loves perfume. So one time I asked: “How many did you spray?” And she said: “I don’t know, let me think, one, two, three…” And I said: “Eight?” And she said: “Yeah, eight." Another friend of mine lives to know that people cannot always see her, but know she was there from the scent left in her wake.

Me? I go light. I might spray once, twice, rarely more than three times. Three spritzes, perhaps, of an extremely volatile citrus splash that I know will be gone in a half an hour but I just can’t get enough. I would not use a heavy hand with a rich floral or an oriental fragrance. But many folks do, and I enjoy the wake when they pass.

Moderation Shmoderation

Many offended by public displays of perfume have organized. See Breathe Free or Die (your source for buttons, magnets, keychains and posters that say: “I’m fragrance free. Help me stay that way!”) or Fragrance Free World. These groups educate and defend the rights of people with multiple chemical sensitivity, migraines, asthma, allergies and other conditions, as well as the soon-to-be “formerly healthy people who’ve been exposed to too many chemicals.” I am torn on this issue. Life and death aside, have you ever tried to eat sushi in the presence of extreme Giorgio? Or watch theater next to Amarige applied with an without discretion? Don’t.

On the whole, we dwell more on the dangers of perfume over-use than its under-use. A few weeks back I attended a college alumni event, all perfect strangers. Out of decorum, I applied a mightily restrained portion of my chosen scent. To be extra careful, I put it on at four p.m. for the evening event. Champagne, Hors d’oeuvres. Great art. Conversation about fragrance. When asked about mine, I had no evidence. We pawed, we sniffed, but not a trace. Later that evening, on my way out, a woman swept by me wearing the very scent I craved. Filled with melancholy, I left the party, never to make that mistake again.

Classic Scents, Nostalgia or Nightmare?

“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.

More on the Classics

If the idea of perfume classics intrigues you, read: Here's the Hottest Secret in Fragrance: Go Back to the Classics! Johanna McGlaughlin, the author, is a perfume expert with a lovely personality. Johanna is a frequent feature-writer at Perfume Reporter. You may discover that you love the stories behind the scents. If it tickles you to know that the perfumer actually had a name and a personality, that some fragrance rocked the culture, why a particular bottle matches the spirit of the juice so very well, what makes this one or that one a “classic” along with details on specific ingredients of the fragrance, Michael Edwards’ Perfume Legends: French Feminine Fragrances is a book for you.

It Musk be Fresh

Consumers express their taste in fragrance with an impoverished vocabulary: “something fresh,” they always say. A sales-clerk will wait on hundreds of customers before realizing that “fresh” is a synonym for “something I like.” Silly girl, she thought you meant the smell of herbs, fresh cut grass, citrus or the ocean. Lo and behold, some heady oriental smells fresh to you. Why? Because fresh is good, this scent smells good and must, therefore, be fresh.

Next time you shop for a fresh scent, perhaps a little soapy to remind you of laundry “fresh” from the dryer, recall this: One of the most popular scents in laundry detergent is musk, a fragrance ingredient formerly obtained from a gland located between the stomach and genitals of the East Asian male musk deer. Musk is used to infuse perfumes with depth and richness while fixing them to the skin and is considered by most to be a sexy smell, not a fresh one.

But the main goal of perfume is pleasure, So if it makes a person happy to say that musk is a fresh smell, why not? I like fresh scents too. Like a nice piece of pizza hot from the oven.

The Name’s Bond

She waltzed down the aisle, all shiny fur and shiny hair, a twittering entourage and more glamour than usually seen on a Thursday in Hartford’s Bushnell Theater. But she didn’t get past me. “What is your fragrance?” Surprised, she turned. “It’s fabulous,” I reassured her. Not like any I had smelled before, puffy, light and ethereal, but for all the delicate femininity, hinting at mischief. I liked it.

She registered my benign intent. “You know, I don’t know. I got it from a friend. I stayed at her house and she left me a sample.” But wait, she dug through her purse. Normally you’d get some details on the pocketbook, but tonight it was all about perfume. “Maybe...oh, here it is! Let’s see. Bond No. 9.”

“That’s good,” I encouraged her, “Bond No. 9 is the manufacturer; can you see the fragrance name?” “No, no,” she inspected the small glass vial as the houselights went down, “That’s it. Bond’s the name.” Oh, well, maybe Bond had its own house scent, something I hadn’t heard about. Then the incident slipped my mind.

Months later, I stopped into the lovely Madison Avenue shop for Bond No. 9. A gorgeous young Russian woman standing behind a display of well over thirty bottles (my estimate) greeted me warmly. I told her I was looking for a fragrance called Bond No. 9. She gently explained that all of the fragrances are Bond No. 9, exactly as I knew and feared to be the case. She and another salesperson who had joined the conversation giggled, but without a hint of condescension. Then he admitted “We have a problem.”

Undeterred, she asked me what it smelled like. I began to speak, but didn’t get far before she reached for a bottle and sprayed it on a round paper blotter. Handing it to me, she asked: “Is this it?” “Yes!” Nuits de Noho. She and I had landed a plane wearing blindfolds. The language of scent. Very handy.

Bond No. 9 flagship store pictured here.