Memento odorem
I’m not exactly sure when I realized I had an affinity for fragrance. I do seem to remember resisting a desire to smell objects when I was growing up. Like many people, I started wearing perfume in my early teens but didn’t consider it essential. Once or twice a year I’d buy a designer fragrance that seemed attractive, or I’d be gifted one for Christmas. Like most men, I generally referred to perfume as cologne – until I realized that “cologne” wasn’t the appropriate term. My real interest in fragrance began when I was in grad school, living in DC. I was exposed to perfumes with real creativity – potions that were much more than personal care products or accessories to be worn in social settings. For the past decade or so, I’ve been on the hunt for all things fragrant. I’m not sure of the endgame, but I’ve decided to catalogue my thoughts in a way that might be useful to others.
Part of me thinks this is hubris. I have no formal training in perfumery or aroma chemistry. I believe a perfume should speak for itself. It should elicit a particular sensation or reaction in each person who experiences it. But it’s impossible for me, or most anyone, to try every perfume available. So, I’m always looking for guidance, suggestions, directions. Perhaps my musings can be a guide for someone else.
Specifically, I’ve found that perfumes have an uncanny ability to capture the essence of a memory. Initially, I’d like each of my posts or reviews to include a direct link between the perfume being discussed and a scenario, a situation, or a recollection. Some of these set pieces will be real, others imagined. I suppose I’m hoping to give more than just a description of a perfume’s scent. Ideally, I’d like to communicate how perfume feels.
-M