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.