Perfumers don’t compose perfumes, instead they “write” them. It’s an interesting choice of verb. If you are one of those people who regard perfume as rather like cooking, then this idea will probably not appeal to you, but it is part of the industry, especially in France where fairly or unfairly, the metaphor for “cooking” in perfumery also exists but in a pejorative sense. A chemical brew is known as a “soup” and these comprise the majority of releases on the mass market. Something may be cooking or stewing at the big oil production houses , but isn’t being conceptualized, most product has no discernible plot beyond, “Make the sale!”
However perfumers themselves who are concerned with more than the fiendish difficulties of scenting detergent or soap, have a little more leeway, and for them the idea of ideas becomes feasible, even defensible. You get Frederic Malle’s “Editions” de Parfums, for all the world like Hachette or Gallimard. Continue reading →
I don’t know about other parts of the country but around here in Jersey the perfume counters are a tad lackluster. Most of the new perfumes are flankers of the Dolce “Floral Drops” variety, and do not cause much in the way of excitement, put it this way, you can buy the aforementioned drops on Overstock.com. What does seem to be different is the growth in the Nest personal perfume range. Our Sephora now sells what must be about eight of these and they are all beautifully packaged in prints derived from the work of Mary Delaney the 18th century botanical decoupage artist. Continue reading →
Thomas Jefferson at the age when he was experimenting most in the garden at Monicello
Ever wonder what were the favorite scents of historical figures? In the case of Thomas Jefferson we know one of his: the Mexican tuberose. Jefferson was a gardener when he was not writing the Declaration of Independence or being president. Monticello was a sort of test garden for all sorts of plants and flowers that Jefferson had admired abroad, or that he thought might be useful or simply ornamental, in American horticulture. One such discovery for him was the tuberose.
He kept a diary which is how we know about his tastes and what he ordered. Like anybody else who gardens, he loved to look at plant lists from nurseries and dream of where he could tuck this or that little rarity into the spaces he had open. Continue reading →
Gardenias are said to be the perfumer’s best bet at capturing the US feminine market. We in the Sates love our gardenias, and if you can just concoct us a good one, we’re your customers forever.
There’s some truth to the rumor. All sorts of niche perfume companies have tried to crack open the American feminine market with gardenias, but only Annick Goutal succeeded with Gardenia Passion*, and such venerable houses as Guerlain have struck out with non-gardenia gardenias such as Cruel Gardenia. C’est la Vie. Continue reading →
You may have noticed the disappearance of lavender soliflores. In fact you may have noticed the disappearance of lavender essential oil from perfumes and soaps and other such products with some vague fake floralcy substituted for lavender. Why has this happened?
The explanation may be related to the findings in 2006 of Derek Henley and Edward Reiter of the National Institute of Environmental Health and Science concerning the strange cases of five young boys and “idiopathic prepubertal gynecomastia”. Translated into the demotic, these five boys had begun to sprout breasts when using otc tea tree and lavender oil containing soaps and shampoos. The effect went away when the boys changed products.
Big honking lilies and not those tiny little lilies of the valley, that’s what I’m referencing. They’re not shy and they’re really not understated either, but the big lily’s smell can be beautiful.
They can also be great big honking hits with the public. Consider that billboard sized lily Cacharel’s, Anais-Anais. Cacharel let Anais-Anais loose on unsuspecting mortals in 1978 and the beginning was a heavenly whirlwind of florals: White Madonna Lily, black currant, hyacinth, lily of the valley, then a midsection crammed with even more flowers and woods. Everything was stuffed inside Anais -Anais’s delicate skin, jasmine, Grasse rose, iris, ylang-ylang, orange blossom, vetiver cedarwood, oakmoss, patchouli, finally an almost apologetic ending trailing behind this monumental arrangement, a few leather streamers and a tiny bit of musk as though Anais had stepped out of one fragile leather slipper and left it behind. Continue reading →
We all thought her name was Rose, how wrong we were. This confusion tipifiys the history of the geranium ( or beg pardon once again, Pelargonium to give the plant its true name) in perfumery. The pelargoniums are experts in the art of scent mimicry. You find pelargoniums that smell like fruits, spices, herbs, mints, even coconut. Their range is astounding and all of this from their leaves alone.
The eldest -at least in Europe- is Pelargonium capitatum or the rose geranium which besides smelling like roses is also edible (the whole clan is edible) and was once used to wrap up freshly churned butter. Continue reading →
You know who you are: fellow mimosa maniacs. You wish you were on the Riviera in spring just in order to bury your nose in the bouquets of mimosas which are everywhere there in March. This is the month when you miss the flower markets of France and Italy the most, when there’s nothing at US supermarkets but green dyed carnations. They just don’t cut it for us.
Of course there’s always a bottle to take the place of the real thing, and with mimosa you are luckier than with most other flowers because there is an extract and you can smell the real thing rather than a reconstruction. Acacia is the proper name for the yellow flowering mimosas or wattles- their Australian moniker- because these trees are native there. Here in the US most of us know Acacia dealbata or Acacia baileyana both of which are fragrant. I find that the terms acacia and mimosa are batted about interchangeably in a confusing way, but from a horticultural standpoint, acacias are mimosas. *
Nelembo nucifera has got a wonderful perfume all by itself. The lotus produces an extract that is sweet and strong with a sort of hay or grassy facet. If you’ve never smelled it, this extract is surprising because there is none of that watery quality you might have been expecting, instead you encounter a scent that is part flower, part grass, and finally something faintly like tobacco. The lotus is unexpected.
The waterlilies on the other hand only sometimes have a scent and when they do the scent can vary. Nymphaea odorata has been described as smelling of vanilla, fruit, or lilies of the valley. Long years ago my mother grew some in a whiskey barrel which we hauled into her pond. They must have been tender day bloomers, and though I remember that they were scented, I don’t any longer recall the particular perfume. Continue reading →