'Your' scent: Secret or shared?
Le Duc and I invited neighbours I'll call "Louis" and "Anne" to dinner recently, because they were in the midst of a drawn-out renovation. For months, they had had no real kitchen, so we thought they would like a break from the hot plate.
That evening, Anne arrived wearing a chic blurry-floral linen dress, but what I noticed first was her perfume. If it were a piece of music, it would be a sarabande, baroque, elegant and lively. I told her it was wonderful.
Here's the next bit of conversation:
Anne: "Thank you. It's a funny story. My sister received a bottle from her boyfriend for her twenty-fifth birthday but she didn't like how it smelled on her, so gave it to me. I've worn nothing else for almost forty years."
Duchesse:"Mmm, I can see why! It suits you perfectly. Lots of flowers, but also orange, perhaps. Is it French?"
Anne: "No. But I love wearing only one perfume, it simplifies my life."
I heard her deflection and knew I had a choice: badger ("So, Anne, what is this?)" or drop it. I did not pursue the matter, but wondered, Why is this secret? I'll tell anyone who asks or even mentions that they enjoy my fragrance. I was reminded of Jackie Kennedy, who said that she was captivated by her mother-in-law's perfume, but Rose Kennedy would never say what she wore. (Guerlain's "Liu".)
What explains Anne's reticence? Perhaps she does not want anyone else wearing "her" fragrance; perhaps she wishes to keep her beauty secrets to herself.
In the window, thanks to myself and others, four signatures, fully disclosed:
Field Notes from Paris (Ineke)
Last spring, I ordered a 1ml decant from perfumeniche, based on Gwen's review. I swooned for all of one minute and by minute two could barely discern it, thanks to my age-related anosmia for certain notes.
I gave that decant to Beth, who fell hard for the unusual accord and is fond of tobacco-flower notes. On her, it has presence yet is discreet enough to wear just to feel good. I'm not sure she'll adopt "Field Notes" as her sole scent, but talk about a delicious match!
Beth ordered the Discovery Set #7 from the San Francisco-based Ineke and kindly reciprocated by giving me one, "Jaipur Chai"; which is, as I told her, my cup of tea. Whether Beth wishes to edit her fragrance wardrobe or not, "Field Notes" will always remind me of her, and likely stay that way, because Ineke is a tiny house, and not sold here.
L'Air de Rien (Miller Harris)
Mine, mine, mine—and also Jane Birkin's, who created it with Lyn Harris of Miller Harris. I sampled it at least a dozen years ago and thought, Meh. Somewhere, I read a raptorous review and ordered a decant from perfumeniche. Not forty-eight hours later I was back for more.
When the wee vials were drained, I tried to buy a bottle from MH only to find they had discontinued it. A kind friend heard my dismay and gave me her two-thirds-full bottle, what an angel!
Somehow the scent sneaks past my anosmia, to wrap me like an old cashmere throw. This summer, Miller Harris reissued "L'Air de Rien"; I ordered immediately. Gwen said that sometimes companies temporarily retire fragrances because the ingredients are unavailable, so it's worth keeping an eye on their releases.
Samples (2ml) as well as bottles are sold on Miller Harris' site; it is also available from decant sellers such as Surrender to Chance. (A mitten clap to StC for offering many sizes of decants.)
Une Rose/Rose Tonnere (Frédéric Malle)
Sometimes I can 'read' a signature immediately. A woman in my building stepped onto the elevator with me, phone in hand. My words were spontaneous; I said, "'Une Rose!", because this rose fragrance is unlike any other: redolent of rich, heady Turkish rose, but also its leaves, and earth— the entire complexity of living plant is present. She said, "Toujours!"
You can order a decant here. Originally released as "Une Rose", it was renamed "Rose Tonnere" in 2021. Malle is a luxury perfumer, so, this is a signature written with a gold pen, but a few drops will do.
Johnsons' Baby Powder
Nearly every morning, a woman on my floor trails a sillage of baby powder from her door to the elevator. She is in her sixties, super-fit, and always in activewear. If I try, I can follow that gentle rose-jasmin-iris accord to her parking spot. There is no powder residue, though, so maybe she buys Demeter's "Baby Powder" cologne.
A "signature scent" does not mean it broadcasts from across a room. Out of consideration for those sensitive to scent, or because of personal preference, some women have chosen transparent, minimalist scents that do not project any more than subtly-scented laundry soap.
So what in the world was Anne wearing? I feel like Selena Gomez' character, Mabel, in "Only Murders in the Building", except I'm on the trail of a scent.
"For nearly 40 years" takes us to the mid-'80s. Do the circumstances reveal clues? Sister was twenty-five, with a serious beau. He probably bought his gift from a department store counter; niche fragrances were largely unknown. The effect is womanly rather than girly, the style that of an upscale American brand.
Could it be this? |
If I had to place a bet, I'd say this is Estée Lauder "Beautiful", which came out in 1985, a lush, yellow-flower bouquet, graceful and memorable. "Beautiful" has a reputation as a bride's fragrance, which may have been his intent—he is now Anne's brother-in-law.
Signatures can come and go—the composition or your life changes—and even the environment affects what feels right. Roxanne, devoted to Jo Malone "Lime and Basil and Mandarin", spritzed hers while hermetically sealed in by the pandemic, and said, "Moving on". For the past year, she has been auditioning replacements.
A signature does not have to be worn to the exclusion of everything else, but it is the one that, if you had to give up a row of bottles, you would keep; the one that whispers your name to intimates.
Whatever Anne had chosen has traversed the decades elegantly. I said to Le Duc, "Maybe when she learns I am a perfume-lover, she'll tell me what this is." And I would solemnly swear to never wear it.
If you have a signature scent, please tell us about it, by name or at least drop a solid hint. How did you discover yours? How long have you worn it?
If looking, enjoy the search. When you find a favourite, you will feel its perfection from head to toe.
Comments
one of the sweetest things my mother ever did for me revolved around fragrance. i used to love her scent when i was a child. her signature was guerlain's l'heure bleu. when i developed my allergy as a teen she just quietly stopped wearing perfume. it took me a while to notice the change but when i did i was very touched.
Every few years I go to the shop in Paris (what a great shop is it!!) to buy new bottles. An experience I would't miss. I live in Belgium so the trip by TGV is really doable.
Other favorites are "Passage d 'Enfer" (l'Artisan Parfumeur), "Carnal Flower" (Frédéric Malle) and "Timbuktu" (l'Artisan Parfumeur).
Woman in HI: A woman on a scent blog said she had been invited to her eight-year-old grandson's birthday party in another city, and wanted to surprise him so she hid in the basement, planning to jump out at the party. But he arrived home from school, and said, "Is Granny here? I smell her perfume!"
Vancouver Barbara: I have posted before on all-natural scents, and you can find quite a number of these online, though the department store counters are behind in their carrying them. Order a few all-naturals from perfumeniche (Gwen will assist) or another decant store. I respect the "No Scent Allowed" request but if I don't see it and I am attending an event like a concert, I wear one of the naturals.
Susan: "Many" annoy you, and end up giving you a headache. You may want to learn more about the top, middle and basenotes that compose these perfumes you cannot wear, so research the perfume on sites like Basenotes or Fragrantica, which list the composition. You will probably find a "culprit", a note like vanilla or indolic notes like tuberose or gardenia that turn cloying on you. Try some from entirely different scent "families" like aquatic scents. Don't spray yourself at a fragrance counter, it's too limited, and don't buy bottles. Buy 1ml decants from a place like perfumeniche.com or one based in your country. Take notes of your impression of the scent. The initial blast is not the actual scent, it will open and develop.
Body chemistry will make a scent different on you than on someone else, so other than noting the overall style (e.g., an oriental, a spicy floral, an aquatic), don't go by others' reviews.
Gerd: Le Duc calls that Lutens boutique "church". I also like the Malle boutique with the scent kiosks. I envy you being so close to fantastic fragrance shopping. (We also enjoy Lubin.)
I remember that my mother wore Madame Rochas for most of her life. Then my sister bought her a bottle of Caleche when she was in her 70s, and she switched to that. Unfortunately, I really dislike the smell of Caleche so that was quite a challenge. When dementia made my mother unusually frank in her last years, she told me she hated Caleche too, but had been wearing it for years so as not to offend my sister! I gave her some Eau Dynamisante as a substitute, and everyone was happy.
I adore Prada Infusion D'iris, but sadly it does not stay on me and I would have to souse myself in it for there to be any discernable scent after 30 minutes. I am truly sad about this because, imo, it is a really beautifully constructed iris scent.
I'm currently wearing L'Interdit (the standard one in summer, but I've started wearing the Noir Intense version now it's autumn). I love the smell, and I've had several enquiries about it. Unlike your visitor, I'm always happy to share :) It suits me at the moment, but of course there'll soon come a time when when my head will be turned by a tantalising whiff and I'll stray...
Allison: Flower Bomb is the Poison of 2022.
At one point his lover's fragrance did not make your son's friend keep his distance, but storm clouds gather when one party tries to mess with the other party's identity. I would also wonder if it was over-application or the actual scent he did not like.
When we met, Le Duc asked me to expand my perfume wardrobe from my then-signature (Lancome "Magie Noir") because he wanted give me perfumes, he's always had a deep appreciation for perfumery—.and I saw a great opportunity there ;)
That's quite a young man to give you such an elegant fragrance at 19!
Once, my dad returned from a trip, and had brought back scents that appealed to him. He told me I could pick what I liked.I chose "First" by Van Cleef & Arpels.
I suspect the formulation has changed a little over time. But I still like to return to it, and I always get compliments.
And if someone asks the name, I tell them!
Other perfumes I love are Goutal’s Heure Exquise , Givenchy’s Irresistible and Balenciaga. Heure Exquise is the one I get asked about constantly and I am happy to tell the name!
Duchesse, I really appreciate knowing about the decant sizes as it’s always fun to try new scents before committing to the purchase of a larger size.
Lynn H: What a gesture! My sister wore Ma Griffe and I still remember it as a totally 'green' scent that I could never "borrow" because the theft was so apparent. The oakmoss ban killed it.
On the other hand, when my daughter, in her 30s, was reflecting on her childhood/teen years, she told me that whenever I was away on business travel (frequently), she would often go to my scarf drawer and put her face in to breathe in my fragrance and feel my presence. Poignant moment for me.
I was about to write in the original post that if you love a scent and it just happens to be "the must-have" of a year or two, stick with it, as most people move on, lured by variety. "Poison" is a perfect example. It's also one that perfume haters often cite as "too strong"—but I blame teenagers who sometimes don't realize that multiple sprays are indeed too much.
Roussette: I adore Phylosykos and have a bottle just waiting to be cracked. IMO by far the best of all fig scents, infinitely flexible, and unusual as not a floral. Yours and others' stories of the link between us and scent underscores not only the strong link between smell and memory, but the comfort that link can deliver. You probably know it comes as a solid perfume, too, wonderful for travel. Figuier closet-scent 'stones' on a cord and Figuier room spray make luxurious gifts.
I have been wearing Goutal's Eau d'Hadrien since I was 16. Don't always wear it but come back to it often after wearing a few of my seasonal "satellites". I tend to wear Hadrien's citruses in the hot weather and things like Chantecaille's Frangipane in our never ending, cold, rainy, 2 and a half year australian winter. I like to say that Hadrien is brulant de fraicheur.
I am a big fan of who Annick as she instilled a lot of her class and pedigree into her creations. I was surrounded by her fragrances growing up as a lot of elegant mothers of school mates would wear Goutal often. They are my teenage years, 90's Paris in bottles.
One thing I have thoroughly craved for during lockdowns was to go fragrance window licking! Visit perfume counters and explore. As I have been doing more of that lately, I have realised how trendy (read gimmicky) perfumes are at the moment and there is nothing I fancy.
By the way, a quick complain: who thought at Fragonard's that it was a good idea to discontinue Figuiers Fleurs (delightful on my husband, a day at the beach somewhere in the Med... On opening the bottle, I can hear, smell, see and feel the soft lapping of the water on a hot and iodine day) and replace it with something vaguely figuy utterly banal?? Bring it back. Stomp, stomp.
I'll shop around and see about prices, thanks for that suggestion too.
E E Deere
re your husband, one idea is to order a number of decants, perhaps as a gift, and invite him to sample them. The fig fragrance Roussette mentions, Diptyque "Phylosykos" can be worn easily by me; he could also try Carner Barcelona's relatively new "Fig Man" and L'Artisan Parfumeur "Premier Figuier".
E E Deere: There are many excellent perfume blogs and newsletters, once you learn to distinguish the ones shilling for a brand or money or swag, versus the true scent lovers. (It's pretty obvious.) I especially like "Now Smell This".