When people smell civet, natural or synthetic, for the first time, the natural response is to cringe, because this animalic material smells raunchy, dirty and sweet. My husband recoiled from me in horror when I once returned from the lab having spent the day working mostly with animalic notes. These days, on the other hand, nothing fazes me now (except, perhaps, for the material called Pineapple Compound that turns air entering my lungs into fruity, sticky cotton candy.) Scents, like tastes, can be acquired.
These days I even like some odd scents that ordinarily wouldn’t be considered pleasant, like mildew, mild skunk odor, hot metal, musty basements or wet paper. And I love civet in all forms.
Scent Diary is a place where we can share fragrances we encounter, good and bad, perfumes we wear and the scents around us. It’s a way to sharpen our sense of smell, but also just to enjoy the fragrance hobby in a different way. Whether you write down 1 recollection or 10 matters less than simply reminding yourself to smell. You can add as many comments as you wish. You can comment today or over the course of the week; this thread will always be open. Of course, do share what perfume you’re wearing or what particularly good scented products you’ve discovered.
Photography by Bois de Jasmin; my grandmother is getting ready to prepare varenyky, dumplings stuffed with a variety of offal. It’s an acquired taste, but I absolutely adore this dish and its gamey, musky flavor, and I request it every time I visit.
