Perfume 101: 517 posts

At one time “drugstore” simply signified the place a fragrance was purchased rather than a pejorative comment on its worth. Consider this–in 1975, Revlon chairman Michel Bergerac pulled the Revlon brand from department stores and placed it into drugstores, at a marketing level known in the trade as the mass market.  Now available at Rexall Drug were Charlie, Revlon’s wildly successful modern chypre; Intimate, Ciara, and Norell. Bergerac made the move when the competing Estée Lauder brand outstripped Revlon in the department stores, where the mid-priced Revlon lost sales to the higher-priced, “premium” Lauder products.

The move enhanced, rather than hurt, the Revlon brand. Its newest fragrance, Jontue, became a bestseller, as did Enjoli a few years later.  Shopping at the drugstores, I would find an array of both classic and modern fragrances that ranged from Dana Tabu to New West for Her to the blockbuster franchise of Elizabeth Taylor. The three decades from the mid-1960s to the mid-1990s were halcyon days for drugstore scents, with many of the fragrances becoming near-instant classics, immediately recognizable in their ubiquity and proudly worn by thousands of women. Continue reading →

Chanel No. 19.  Serge Lutens Chergui.  Robert Piguet Bandit.  Guerlain Mitsouko. Oud. White florals! What these fragrances or perfume notes have in common is that they all are things I have spent time pursuing, trying to understand their appeal.

Perfume lovers know the quandary well.  It seems as if everyone but you “gets” a fragrance, but to your nose the scent in question smells like a wet dog, a stable that needs to be mucked out, or a rotten cantaloupe. You can’t join in the raves and you hate to be the lone naysayer.  What does everyone else smell that you do not?

You put your sample aside to revisit at an unspecified future date.  Perhaps its glory will be revealed at the next sniffing.  A month later—a year later—you try again.  No.  Oud still smells like band-aids to you.

Should you give up or should you continue trying?

Continue reading →

A consequence of the popularity of Middle Eastern style fragrances and the need to understand the local market is that the big companies are seeking to hire perfumers of Middle Eastern origin. Firmenich is currently looking:

“We are thinking of recruiting a perfumer from the GCC countries: an Emirati perfumer, a Saudi perfumer or an Omani perfumer,” said Firmenich general manager Louis Lecoeur. “We want someone with the culture of oils and fragrances who we could train to follow the practices of perfumers today.”

More via thenational.ae

One evening my husband and I strolled through the Beguinage in Leuven, a university town in the Flemish part of Belgium. Beguinages (or begijnhofs as they are called in Dutch) were medieval lay sisterhoods in which women led lives of piety and charity without taking permanent vows. At best, the Catholic church had an ambivalent attitude towards the beguines. Women weren’t supposed to have this much freedom or to exist independently from male control. The sisterhoods were prosecuted and labeled as heretics, but despite all of this they maintained their order. Belgium had the highest number of beguinages in the world, and about 30 remain today (albeit non-functioning). If the desire to live free from men counts, then the beguines might very well represent the earliest form of the women’s movement.

Although today Leuven’s Beguinage is a UNESCO heritage site housing university students and faculty, there is an aura of serenity pervading its narrow streets. The setting sun tints the grey cobblestones a rich gold and plays on the still water in the canals. The swallows paint delicate arabesques over the sky, making me strain my neck as I admire their graceful spins. The red geraniums spilling out of the window boxes give off their dusty metallic scent, and each tiny streets ends in a small secret garden awash in roses and privet. The beguines may have vanished, but their oasis of quiet beauty remains. Continue reading →

I recently thought about one of the first lessons I had as a ballet student–a lesson on falling. The idea is that the fall will be inevitable and that without falling, you will never learn to dance. Even when the solid earth vanishes from under your satin clad toes and you find yourself falling, you should retain your center of gravity.

So, thank you for being my center of gravity. I was so touched by all of your incredibly moving and supportive comments and emails in response to my Perfumed Comfort post. I read and re-read your comments, made lists of your various suggestions and before I knew it, I felt less disoriented. Many of you have been following my adventures and perfume explorations since the inception of Bois de Jasmin seven years ago; some of you have discovered me fairly recently, but all of you are the reason I enjoy writing and sharing on these pages.  I guess I’m feeling a bit too emotional right now to write a coherent Saturday post, so I will just say again, a big thank you to all of you!

Photography by Bois de Jasmin, a towering pile of fragrant peonies at the market–for you!