A few weeks ago I was at the grocery store, and my checker was a sweet, indie-rocker type with blond, shaggy hair, a fully-tattooed forearm, and a pierced eyebrow. As she moved her arms to load my grocery bag, a waft of Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue drifted over. My heart leapt. I’m not a huge fan of Light Blue, but I loved smelling perfume in public. “You smell great!” I said. “It’s not too much?” the cashier asked.
I live in a neighborhood in Portland, Oregon with probably the most vegans and biodiesel-fueled cars per capita anywhere in the world. Running through the neo-hippie is a strong vein of rocker, too, leading to dread-locked white girls with scarlet lipstick, lunchboxes as purses, and bottles of kombucha. The older generation of Portlanders has a higher portion of ex-Grateful Dead followers supplemented by more financially secure Portlanders driving Priuses, designing gardens of native plants, and adopting babies from China. Don’t get me wrong: I wouldn’t live anywhere else. It’s just that most of these people don’t care about perfume — or worse, they actively dislike it.
Whenever I’m in public, I have to be careful about wearing anything but the most subtle perfume. (Fortunately one of my best friends wears Shalimar, so I wear whatever I want when I’m with her.) I can’t tell you how many times I’ve mentioned my love of perfume and faced a blank or even disapproving stare. Sometimes I’ll hear a story like this one: “I used to wear L’Interdit, my father brought it back to my from Paris and I really loved it, but I just don’t wear perfume anymore.” Or I might see a dusty bottle of Eau d’Issey on someone’s dresser but that’s it.
I do have a few friends who like perfume and buy a bottle now and then, but they aren’t as crazed about it as I am. “Germaine Cellier” means nothing, and they aren’t ready to rhapsodize about Vol de Nuit or Femme — not that they’d ever heard these names. Chypres are too musty, vintage scents too “old lady-ish”, and florals too powdery for them. Other friends rely on essential oils. (Vetiver and a blend called China Rain are popular here.) They’re probably fed up with me thrusting my wrist under their noses, or insisting that they pause the DVD player while I shout, “Look! Is that Arpège on her vanity?”
Blogs like Now Smell This tell me that I’m not alone. All of you who comment, whom I only know by your blog names and can only imagine in person, are a comfort to this lonely perfumista. I love it that I can comment on Bois de Jasmin that I like Chant d’Arômes and get the reply that Chant d’Arômes was much better before its reformulation 14 years ago. I love it that I can say I like the clary sage in Miss Dior and you will know what I mean. I love it that I can ponder the merits of Parfum de Therèse versus Diorella and someone will have an opinion.
And the cashier wearing Light Blue? Next time I stop by that store I’m bringing a sample of Fracas. I have a feeling she’ll really like it.
I have no use for people or women , in particular that do not wear perfume – or as you say – actively dislike it. Often times, they have bad breat , or a vague kind of “natural scent ” which turns into a kind of musty odor.
I , too, share your joy of perfume talk – commiserating about the gine days of vintage .. Miss dior, Dioressence, Farouche, Sortilege, etc. and delight in the new. Perfume is my joy.
China rain is pkay.. I suppose after a shower, but , really they do not know what they're missing.
Some cultures don't necessarily find that so. I have a Japanese mother, and in her youth and growing up scent was seen more as an intrusion into other people's space – just plain impolite. She doesn't find she's missing anything, it's that it's superfluous to her. Even now Asian perfumes tend towards cleaner, lighter scents, citrus, sheer fruits or woods, baby type scents in the majority. On top of it, a lot of Asian people have a different body smell – in fact, a lot don't have much personal odour at all (at least many of the Japanese I have encountered). Again, my mother has almost no discernable smell, not even when she perspires. as a result, she's never needed to wear deodorant in her life. It's like nothing scented emits from her pores. On the other hand, I am a fully signed up stinky half-westerner with a natural musky odour that suits chypres the most.
yay portland!
angela, i must tell you: i was at the perfume house a few weeks ago, dabbing and sniffing and dousing, and got to talking to one of the women there (i don't know her name– chris's daughter-in-law?) about this blog and she mentioned you! and how lovely you are and how excited you get when you go into their shop. you got a perfume shout out! 😉
as a fellow portlander i totally hear what you're saying. whenever i tell people i'm into perfume i get the looks, the puzzlement, the polite semi-interest… however, i've thrust my wrists under enough noses that i think i'm making a teeny difference– when women at work see me coming, they're ready to smell something new and different and i can see the cogs and wheels turning in their heads. if i'm getting through, you're definitely getting through! 🙂 and if china rain went away tomorrow, i wouldn't be too sad (then again, i'd be lying if i didn't admit to wearing it in college…!)
I try to be sensitive when wearing perfume (for instance, I'm off to the doctor's in a moment and I put just the tiniest dab of Amoureuse on one wrist), but I do love smelling it on others. Thank goodness for perfume blogs where I can be part of a larger community!
It's so interesting about other cultures and scent. I wonder if it's changing in Japan as the U.S. spreads its tentacles eastward?
I swear I can smell the difference between a vegetarian and a meat-eater. They both smell fine, but different. I'm sure I reek of rib-eyes.
Hey, maybe between the both of us we can flip Portland into a pro-scent city!
I love the Perfume House–I think Tracy is the woman you're talking about. She's terrific. I promised myself that that if I did my taxes (argh, very painful for the self-employed) I could have (1) a giant bowl of macaroni and cheese, and (2) a trip to the Perfume House. Now I am fatter but smell delightfully of Diorella!
Yay Portland Indeed! I was raise in Portland and just moved a couple of years ago and I absolutely adore the Perfume House! I actually love all of the Hawthorne District. I used to go to these Perfume Shows held by Nordstrom yearly and there are a lot perfume devotees out there! I totally think Portland can become a more scent friendly city!!!
Can you imagine how lonely I am? I'm a perfumista who is known nationally as a native plants proponent. I may be the soul overlap between these two groups!
Hi Angela: isn't it strange that Seattle and Portland are so different, but so CLOSE? Here the perfume counters at stores are always hopping, even small clothing and housewears/design boutiques stock perfumes, but when I've been to Portland, especially the Perfume Shop, I've had the perfume counter, and store, to myself. I went to the big Egyptian exhibit at the Portland Art Museum last winter and wore L'Eau Trois. I had to chuckle when an older woman entered the small gallery I was hanging out in and said: “It smells like a mummy in HERE!” I do believe she was talking about ME! K
You mentioned Shalimar. Ahh…it was my mother's signature scent. She's long lost to me now for many years, but I can never smell it without tearing up.
Scent has such power upon memory and emotion. I cannot imagine not embracing it.
An American, I am now in Northern Ireland and there is a strong British influence here which brings with it an exposure to their fashions and products. Scent is much appreciated here by women and they're quick to try the newest perfumes and to compliment you on yours when they fancy it.
So at least I'm in a receptive environment!!
I think women who are very interested in perfumes tend to have a sensitive/creative bend with their sense being easily stimulated. It's just that scent can clearly influence us as research validates and to not be engaged with it seems a waste of the senses.
Oh! I live just a few blocks from the Perfume House, but I've never been in. Apparently Portland is a secret center of perfumistas!
Oh Angela, you are definitely not alone!
And, I think the Fracas idea is perfect! Please keep us posted, because it sounds like you have found a budding perfumista in an otherwise perfume-free environment. :):)
Hugs!
Between us perfumistas, let's be honest…a tiny dab of Amoureuse applied in Portland could probably be detected in Seattle, no? That juice is positively radioactive; I look at my bottle with joy, knowing that 50ml will last me a lifetime! Angela, do you think there's any real place in the world where people are interested in perfume? I live in the 'sophisticated' south-east of England, just half-an-hour from the scent excitements of London, and I don't know a soul (apart from one PoL friend) who doesn't see my love of perfume as daft. You're supposed to find some kind of scent that's 'OK' – preferally a classic, declare a lifelong allegiance, dab it on timidly for special occasions, and get through no more than two bottles before death. Owning more than, say, three scents is indulgent to the point of decadence. It probably implies that many other aspects of my sensuality are hopelessly out of control…on the other hand, if I spent a fortune on Fine Wine or jewellery, I would be considered perfectly normal!
What a great post, Angela. I've gotten some weird looks when I talk about my perfume obsession, and I live in Los Angeles. But, the cool thing is I've converted a few of my friends, one of whom adamantly proclaimed “I hate perfume, I'm allergic to it”. Now she's trolling Luckyscent, has bought TDC's Bergamot. Sometimes I think people just don't get it, they don't look past the fruity florals from hell in the department stores to the niche lines and the beautiful vintage scents. Maybe it's just not their thing, though it's tough for me to understand. With the way perfumes are today, I don't know if people realize that you can smell the tomatoes ripe on the vine, the soil and leaves crushed in your hand or the smell of autumn, the smoke and the spices of cooking, the scent of honey mixed with rose. I know that I'm thrilled when I smell Passage D'Enfer when I'm on a job and end up getting into a conversation about perfume with someone I haven't met before – it's so completely unexpected. I'm so happy the perfume blogs exist, it's so nice to share my passion with others.
Oh boy, your story is very familiar. You're right that most people like perfume to the extent of finding their “signature scent” and then forgetting about olfactory joy. It's too bad, because a person's nose can bring so much pleasure! Like you say, it's fine to spend lots on music, food, wine, and paintings, but the love of perfume is a little suspect.
And you were right about Amoureuse! That one little drop did a number on the stuffy exam room at the doctor's. I should have tried some Mugler cologne or something more subtle.
Portland is terrific, I agree, and the Perfume House is a strange, terrific place, too. I'm starting to feel hopeful about Portland's prospects for embracing perfume….
Right now! Leave the house and wander down to the Perfume House. You won't regret it. You're reading perfume blogs but haven't been in? Must remedy that soon.
Maybe Portland perfume lovers should have some kind of secret handshake or something so we can recognize each other and rove the city in fragrant hoards.
You're breaking new ground! Do you know Lucy Hardiman? She's a big plants woman here. I wonder if I could convert her with a spritz of En Passant, maybe.
Angela — you're out there, but not entirely alone. I almost never smell anyone's sillage … here the Europeans and embassy types waft the most, because they're oblivious (or indifferent) to the vague, unstated opinion that it's rude. I try not to wear anything rank to visit the medical profession, but beyond that I don't care. I think there are some folks who genuinely view perfume as poison — think of the chemicals you're putting on your skin!
Living in Santa Fe, fragrance was incorrect. I once (have I told you this before?) got crossways with a woman in my workplace who was allowed to bring her old, flatulent, dandery, smelly dog to our nominally fragrance-free environment.
Most people who know me just think my “hobby” is peculiar. However, I now have a very small circle of friends who've jumped into the whole perfume-junkie thing (buying samples, etc.) which is great fun for me.
It would be interesting to do a map of scent-receptive areas and then maybe run a correlation with happiness. (Any PhD candidates out there?) I agree with you 100%.
I'm tempted to try a little Shalimar right now thanks to your message, but I'm afraid this Amoureuse will be burning along until next week sometime.
Isn't that a myrrh-heavy scent? Perfect for an Egyptian exhibit!
The next time you come to Portland, please send me an email. I'd love to meet you sometime. I've lived in both Seattle and Portland, and it's interesting how they are so similar in some ways but so different in others. I think Portland can kick Seattle's hind end for biodiesel VW buses, though.
And, as Vanilla Girl suggested, can you smell my Amoureuse?
I'll let you know. I know Fracas is a world apart from Light Blue, but she looked like she'd wear Fracas very well.
I love your description of smelling the world around us. It's spring now, and the streets are a melange of Daphne, rain, and wet dirt. Love it.
Perfume isn't easy, and it takes some dedication to smelling things again and again to develop a good sense of smell. People who haven't given it time are quick to call something “perfume-y” and decide that they hate perfume and that's that. It's too bad. They probably didn't do the same thing the first time they tried a stinky cheese or listened to The Clash. Why not give perfume the same effort? It's worth it.
You're right: converting new members to the perfume club is the best way to go. I haven't got any as far as buying samples, though. And I'd much rather smell Jolie Madame than Smelly Pooch (and I know what I'm talking about here) or even Stinky Leftover Thai Food fresh from the microwave for lunch.
enjoy reading your post,you know you are a true “perfume addict” or maybe i should say “connesseur” when you are in a public place and you notice everyone's scents around you..smiling right now as i am typing this because I have done it so often,ask what the scent is or comment on a familiar scent but noone has ever done it to me. 🙁 *lol*
perhaps one day!
Well, I guess we perfume lovers need to support each other and comment on each other's scent when we like it! I'm sure you smell great.
Yes, L'Eau Trois has lots of myrrh. I WILL let you know the next time I'm in Portland (and you do the same when you are up in Seattle). Shall we spiff ourselves up and have a photo taken for Robin…or should we “preserve the mystery” of our beings from her? It's a still day in Seattle, so I didn't detect your Amoureuse outside, even with nose pointed southwards, K
I'm sure we're both mighty attractive and Robin (who is mighty attractive, too, I'm certain) could be interested in a photo. Unless she says otherwise. I'll send you my email address.
The few molecules of Amoureuse have now faded to a dull, musky murmur, so you're safe even if the wind picks up.
Angela, I hope some enterprising PhD candidate rises to the occasion!!
I can say that given the Irish propensity for embracing life, scent receives a welcome here.
Now this brings to mind some relatives from Italy of my former husband, that stopped by our home. They recoiled in horror when their little girl kissed my Shih-Tzu. Meanwhile, they were filling the room with their strong body odor (anti-perspirant was not a product they were particularly interested in) and looking at my well groomed and shampooed dog as if he stunk to the high heavens.
From googling her name, I see she and I at least have acquaintances in common. If you get within shooting range, aim at her with something containing citrus or mint. Nanadebary Green might make a viable entry point for those who nose around American plants.
Cultural differences about scent really are interesting. I suppose body odor is something Americans learn not to like.
Little girls really seem to like to kiss dogs, it seems. My dog, who is great with kids, gets kissed by girls on the street all the time. Boys, not so much.
Advice noted. She does have a little of the glam thing going on (glam in a gardener way, that is, practical clogs and fetching lipstick) and just might take to it with some encouragement.
You're not alone!
I live in Vancouver, and my friends and family react with puzzlement whenever I leap to sample a new fragrance. My friends just don't get it & I am not successful in converting anyone!I rarely smell sillage when I wander, and if I do, it's usually something I find revolting and ubiquitous (yes Angel/Escada/Vanilla fruity thing, I'm looking at YOU!).
Even though I'm not very knowledgable, I seem to know more about the products than most of the Dept Store SA's I've encountered. However, I play dumb to score samples!
I have discovered one of my co-workers is also a secret perfume freak, so we plan to go on an expedition to the Perfume Shoppe in a couple of weeks. The Perfume Shoppe in Vancouver is my one consolation! I would be so sad if it weren't here!
It's definitely true that there's good sillage and bad sillage. Probably bad sillage scores five for every one good sillage, and that's why perfume has such a bad name *sigh*.
Someday I plan to go to Vancouver and visit the Perfume Shoppe! I'd love to know how your visit goes and what perfumes you liked best. It's great that you have a compatriot at work.
As a garden freak who's also dallied and dithered in the altculture shallows and deeps, that leap into perfume ain't as big as some people might think…
Great post A
I so relate. I live in an area now w/ a significant number of very earnest types who actively scorn anything not organic or all natural. Yawn. Perfumes are *not* appreciated. I always under apply and unless someone is hugging me, there is minimal chance they'll smell my perfume, but I really miss not having people around who share my joy in collecting scents. Am eternally grateful for the internet friends I've found who share my passion. Oh…but I am seriously into gardening w/ native plants. 🙂 Yes, I have roses too, but native plants are my real love.
I totally relate! Haven't run across anyone here who's quite as into perfume as I am, and the salespeople mostly think I'm weird. I like smelling perfume on other people also! I'm tempted to follow them around. But oddly, don't wear perfume at work; afraid of disturbing people 😛 Although, considering my sadly aromatic coworker, I doubt anyone would be disturbed.
I guess a love of beauty in one realm can translate into a love of beauty in another! I have a small vegetable garden, and the rest of the yard is loaded with herbs for cooking, a raspberry patch, a fig tree, a plum tree, and whatever flowers I can fit between them–heavy on lilies and roses.
It sounds like we're in the same boat. And it seems that lots of gardeners, and of native plants, like perfume! I bet it's easier here, at least, to find more people passionate about gardening with native plants than about perfume.
It's so nice to know I'm not alone! I guess one advantage of working from home is that I can wear whatever perfume I want. On that note, I'm going to find my bottle of Farnesiana….
I am going to one of those perfume shows at Nordstrom on april 15th– let me know if any of you are also going…
I went last year and was kind of disappointed by it. Maybe it was the wake-up call of what new perfume is like these days. So I probably won't go this time. I'll keep a lookout for you–or maybe I should say “nose” out for you, though, in Portland!
Thanks Angela. The smell of Spring in Portland sounds lovely. You're so right about the cheese and the Clash reference. I often think people smell the bottles, instead of putting the perfume on the skin, which is crazy.
Love this. I'm in small-town Georgia and know exactly two people who care about scent. One has fallen for musks, and the other is obsessed with “the scent of dirt.” I'm always happy to be of assistance.
They sound like good people to know. The smell of dirt? I can imagine that. I always that Premier Figuier had a little dirt happening.
Hi,
I love your blog and check it everyday. I am going to portland OR over president day's weekend for a private showing at the perfume house, and I'm totally excited. I have a question though is there any other places I should make time to visit?
Thanks Jill
Absolutely! Depending on what lines you're interested in, Portland has a few good places to offer. Why don't you click through on my name, and we can carry on this conversation off NST?
My boyfriend has allergic reactions to almost anything scented, so I have to curtail my perfume obsession when he's around (luckily for my perfume obsession, but not so luckily for me, I live in Montreal, and he lives in Philadelphia). When we finally end up near each other, I shudder to think of what will happen to my Une Rose, Shalimar, Diorissimo. 🙁
I actually haven't even confessed that I'm a perfumista to most of my friends for fear that they will think I'm absolutely crazy. Only one friend knows, and he's been sworn to secrecy.
You have my sympathy. It sounds terrible to live so far away from your boyfriend and absolutely horrible that he's allergic to perfume! Are you sure he's allergic? (Here I am, grasping at threads for you.) Could it be that certain scents just irritate him, and really a gentle application of En Passant would be fine? We can only hope.
Well, when you do move in with him, please feel free to package up your perfume and send it to me.
Haha, I have a half-used bottle of Chanel Chance Eau Fraiche that I'm desperately tired of, but that's all I'm willing to give up at the moment, because *GASP* it turns out that he's not allergic to everything! I wore Estee Lauder Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia when I spent a whole day with him, and not only did he not get the sniffles, he even said I SMELLED GOOD.
Come to think of it… I didn't tell him I was wearing perfume, so maybe his allergies are partially in his head. I'll have to do blind tests on him until I figure out what will make him sick and what won't. I'll let you know about the En Passant.
Hurray! Best of luck introducing him stealthily to the pleasure of scent.