Picking a smashing new scent

I mentioned in a recent post that a lovely, unadorned woman I saw at a party commented that she would like to begin to wear scent. At sixty, she is at the door of a magical land.

You may be like her, or, like me, interested in a new scent, one that intrigues our most evocative sense, that of smell.

A few ideas about choosing a new scent:

1. Forget what the salesperson tells you; she is often taken by the latest thing or is paid to push a brand. A salesperson told Christine that "blondes should not wear Opium". Bof! Christine inhabits Opium magnificently; without her sensuous, smoky sillage, she is not quite "Christine" to me.

Don't be influenced by your past preferences, either. If you've never worn tuberose or despised patchouli since the '70s, suspend your certainty. 

Who you are may have changed, not only psychologically but olfactorily. You will perceive scent differently as you age. (This also happens when a woman is pregnant; hormone shifts affect the sense of smell.)

Some perfumes are girlish, others the domain of a worldly woman. A few cross generational divides. One trains up to certain scents, the demanding, odd, even troubling. (See the category, Mystery Tours.) 

2. Try the scent on your skin, going about your life. Cards are useless. The scent you smell in the store will be affected by the other fragrances at the counter–and often stores deploy room scent throughout the floor. Apply it liberally. 

Resist sniffing the first wet spritz, which is never the way you or others will encounter it, and that immediate alcohol-laden burst sways your opinion. Smell it first five minutes after application, then at around twenty minutes (this will reveal the heart, not just the top notes) and every half-hour. Notice how the scent develops and how long it lingers.

Be wary about thrusting your wrist at your shopping companion and asking, "Like it?" A girlfriend has a different nose. Most men will either love anything, as it reminds them of opportunity, or in a rush to get out of there, they'll say it's "nice".

Try the scent a few times; like meeting a new friend, the first encounter does not always tell the story. If you don't want to keep trekking back to the shop, order a decant from an online boutique like The Perfumed Court or Lucky Scent.

You may find that perfume, eau de parfum, cologne or eau de toilette read differently in the same fragrance. Perfume Posse has a good post here (scroll down to the topic) on which brands make superior versions of different strengths.

3. Be wary of the classics, estimable perfumes that have been around twenty years or more. The fragrance may be different in its current formulation. This article on The Essence of Perfume blog explains why, and names a number of affected scents: "The Perfumers Association Bans Popular Scents".

Some makers have also altered their formulas within the last few years to enhance profit margins, though getting them to admit this is like getting an actress to confess to cosmetic surgery. As Luca Turin says, "the accountants have had their way with the noses." I wore the intense, dark Magie Noire in the '80s; the new version (obviously made with cheaper juice) smells thin and nastily sharp.

When to buy? If you get a delicious frisson to your toes, the panpipe trill of brooks and bluebirds, say, or the beckoning of tambourines and woodsmoke– any kind of deep, primal pleasure signal–it's time to buy the bottle. It will hurt; you do get what you pay for in the perfume universe.

The list: Travels in a scented land

I'm not a fragrance wonk; I find some descriptions as obscure as those of certain wine writers. I'm approaching scent via a travel analogy.

There is, deliberately, no description of ingredients or characteristics; make your choice more heartfelt (and fun) by experimenting freed from hype and other people's noses. A fragrance can evoke magnolias in a Roman garden for you and remind another of the vinyl booth at the diner. 

If you must know the ingredients or what others think, check the descriptions and reviews on scent boards and blogs like Basenotes or Perfume Shrine. The disparity of opinion regarding the same scent proves how radically body chemistry and taste can differ.

I could list dozens in each category; here's a start:

Day Trips
Graceful, well-made scents, subtle but not insipid; pleasing to wear; a jaunt

Lovely, Sarah Jessica Parker

Antonia's Flowers, Antonia's Flowers

White Jasmine and Mint, Jo Malone

Premier Figuier, L'Artisan Parfumeur 

Fleur de Bois, Miller Harris
Paris, Yves St Laurent

Weekends
Beloved classics or new scents with presence and staying power; an excursion

24 Faubourg, Hermes

La Haie Fleurie by L'Artisan Parfumeur

Thé pour un eté, L'Artisan Parfumeur

Infusion d'Iris, Prada
Un Jardin sur la Nil, Hermes
Quartz, Molyneux
Beige, Chanel

Lost Weekends
Unabashedly sexy in either a ballgown or corset way; hang out the Do Not Disturb sign

Fracas, Robert Piguet

Tabac Blonde, Caron

Bandit, Robert Piguet

Le Parfum de Thérèse, Frederic Malle (I am so crazy for this, I can't find words)

Rose 31, Le Labo
Agent Provocateur, Agent Provocateur

Mystery Tours
Exotic, rare, even odd scents; not necessarily "pretty" but memorable– an off-road trek

Safran Troublant, L'Artisan Parfumeur

Like This, Etat Libre d'Orange

Amoreuse, Parfums DelRae

Nostalgia, Santa Maria Novella

Le Labo Oud 27, Le Labo

L'Autre, Diptyque

 I welcome your additions, scented goddesses!