Imagine if physics were only taught at General Electric, and only after hours. Imagine learning cuisine if there were only five good restaurants on earth. Small wonder so many of the young perfumers are sons and daughters of people in the same profession.
— Luca Turin's latest article in NZZ Folio, Dreamjob.
I wonder why we’ve not seen a Keith Richards fragrance called “Undead,” with hints of embalming fluid and a soft whisper of old cigarettes. How soon before we can douse ourselves in Lindsay Lohan’s “Rehab,” with the earthy essence of black coffee and Altoids?
— from Smellywood’s Puttin’ on the Spritz, in the Santa Barbara Independent, with thanks to Joe for the link.