Once I took a drawing class. It turned out that I couldn't draw worth beans, but it permanently changed the way I saw visual art. Thanks to the class, I understood that every stroke of the paintbrush, every smear of charcoal is a choice. I saw that a painting is more than an image and maybe a story, but rather a series of choices of color, technique, perspective, and subject that an artist makes to achieve a certain end. Thinking about why the artist made those choices makes art so much richer for me.
Similarly, it's nice to know something about how a perfume is made and the stories around it. I like reading perfume reviews and then smelling the perfume to see if I can pick out the different notes. I like knowing that Edmond Roudnitska labored over creating the smell of lily of the valley for Diorissimo and even planted them in his yard so he could compare, and that Jean Claude Ellena has chosen to limit the palette he works with when he creates a fragrance. I like thinking about fragrance trends — for instance, the in-your-face perfumes of the 1980s or the dry green chypres of the 1960s and early 1970s — and linking them to the fashion and attitudes of their eras. It's interesting, too, to listen in on the debate of naturals versus synthetics.
But I have to wonder, is it possible to go too far in learning about perfume and so squeeze the romance right out of it? Can a perfume lover get too "in his head" about fragrance and end up losing perspective on its beauty?
Here again, art is a good analogy. Some people visit an art museum and wander through the galleries enjoying what they see. They might listen to a docent and, ideally, see more in a work of art and appreciate it more deeply. For other people, though, a trip to a museum becomes all about what paintings are "good" or "not his best work" or "a rare example" or knowing obscure biographical details of the artist. The pleasure of experiencing takes a back seat to thinking.
For perfume, I want to balance honing my awareness and appreciating what I smell with learning about it. I may never know what the heck Iso E Super is, but I want to be able to recognize the surprise of citrus and bay set against ylang ylang and appreciate it. And although I love imagining Royal Bain de Caron used in voodoo rituals, I don't want to know whether 27 or 67 ingredients were used to make it.
For you, what is too much information about perfume? Do you like knowing its chemical composition? Do you care which critics like it? At what point does too much knowledge take the fun out of it for you?
Note: image is Perfume Lab [cropped; shows a perfume laboratory at Fragonard in Grasse, France] by John Rohan at flickr; some rights reserved.
Very interesting ideas. I was just discussing something like this with a friend this week. I make perfume and have found that it has changed how I smell & enjoy perfumes in general. Before I would just “get” a blended mental & sensory concept of a fragrance, but now, I have individual notes (usually ones I don't care for) come screaming out at me since I am more familiar with the individual ingredients. It has both changed my “love” for some scents and made me more appreciative of others.
There's no such thing as too much information in my world!
The more I've learned about perfumes-who's behind them, what other people think about them, what chemicals make up my favorites-the deeper I fall in love with my hobby. It's like learning about art or fine wine: the more you know, the easier it is for you to identify the qualities you appreciate most. Happiness is.
I think it depends on your personality. If you're a science geek type perfumista like me there is never too much information, the more you learn the better. I find reviews that give no information whatsover about the notes, sillage, longevity etc less helpful – it might be a beautiful piece of writing, but I will be no closer to knowing if I should get a sample.
That's exactly what I wonder when I think that maybe it would be nice to buy a set of bases and raw materials. I'm not very good at picking out the single notes in perfumes, so I sometimes think that it would be a nice buy, which would help me improve my ability to describe, explain, find the right words. But then… I've never bought such thing because I'm afraid it would steal me some of my enjoyment.
And for me, that's what perfume is all about. Daily enrichment and joy.
Great post, thanks.
Hi Angela,
I was just thinking about this yesterday, and no, I don't give two hoots about the chemical composition of a fragrance. I just don't need to know that much to appreciate how perfume makes me feel. To me, that's the important thing. Just like tussah said above, I've learned enough in the last couple years to pick out certain notes, which makes things more interesting, and I do like reading about what inspires perfumers. But a chemistry lesson is completely irrelevant to the way I enjoy perfume.
I always enjoy your posts, Angela 🙂
I like some information, but don't feel like I need to know everything. I appreciate good smells, don't need to know the exact composition.
It really depends. I like both science and art. I like reading reviews and comparing my own experiences with them, or when I smell something completely new I have to read the story behind that scent. I used to go into a perfume store, and I could just say “I like this scent”, and I couldn't tell any notes in it, just as I couldn't say anything else about it other than “green”, “fresh”, “woody”, “oriental”.
Now I know a lot more about them and it has killed my love for some, but made me appreciate and learn about more niche/weird scents. I do not like Lolita Lempicka the way I used to, because now I need Jaisalmer or Hinoki – it's like I sometimes feel like a wine connoisseur.
The best example is that I do like Ode A'lamour by Yves Rocher, just because it reminds me of apricots and plums very much. Right before I was going to put some on, thought: “why am I going to wear Yves Rocher, when I have Dyptiques and L'Artisan's waiting in line?”. But You know, then I realised it's not about who made it, and how much it costs, it's about WHY You like a specific scent. I do like Ode A'lamour and no other perfume reminds me of plums and apricots the way this one does, I will continue to like it and BECAUSE I like it.
I'm an information whore, and rarely do I ever feel I have “too much information.” I can read for days about minutiae. That being said, I'm not aware of my own blind spots, and I certainly can't know *everything* — things like chemistry are really of no interest to me (also not understandable!), so I don't care about the chemical bonds in Iso E Super, but I might want to know what it is and how it's used. I recently told Helg that one of her posts (details about cypriol) was really fascinating to me, but I would also never try to learn to distinguish every accord in a composition. I have to think that even for professional perfumers, their *love* of their craft probably doesn't wane even though they are chemically analyzing a scent as soon as they take a whiff — I'm sure they still take pleasure in smelling a beautiful composition. That's how I like to approach it — knowledge for me is helpful, but if it ever becomes unpleasurable, it's time to stop.
I guess I personally believe that *some* knowledge and backstory have to go into a reasoned appreciation of anything — to me it's lazy to take an approach to art of “I don't know if it's good but I know what *I* like.” I mean, there's something nice in that kind of naïvete, but it's the same attitude that just says “Pollock is an ugly mess” or “Cumming smells nasty” (even though no one *has* to like Pollock or Cumming, it's just helpful to know *why* you don't like it). On the other hand, sometimes you just want to laugh at or be entertained by something “lowbrow” and just because Pink Sugar isn't a so-called “masterpiece” doesn't mean you're not allowed to enjoy it, the same way that some days nothing tastes better than a Nathan's hot dog even though you know you're not eating “haute cuisine.”
Studying Buddhist philosophy has helped immeasurably in all areas of my life — an attitude of stop *worrying* and overthinking it and just *experience* and enjoy it. Don't get wrapped up in craving and attachment and acquisition, but by all means NOTICE when something pleases you in the moment.
That turned into a long comment (sorry!), but thanks for this article, Angela! Very nice!
Interesting discussion, Angela. I was thinking this very thought just recently. I sometimes feel guilty about how reluctant I am to identify notes – because it would spoil the pleasure of the emotional 'picture' I get from the scent. I know that when I smell Mitsouko, the effect is created from a synthetic chemical mimicing peach, and oakmoss and whatever. What I actually associate with the smell of Mitsouko is an old public library, and the sour, delicious smell that lifts from brown-edged hardbacks when you open them. The emotional picture matters to me much more than the way it was achieved, so, selfishly, I don't really want to know how the artist did it! I was actually reading on the I Love Perfume blog, created by a perfumery student in Grasse, that a famous nose told him he never deconstructs his favourite scents , because then they would 'fall apart' on his skin, splitting into detectable elements. So the 'keep it out of focus' approach has some respectable support…
I am a visual artist, and even when I can technically see how a piece of art is made, I usually don't go in for that kind of analysis unless the art has affected me viscerally in one way or another. And even when I do “dissect”, a piece that has rocked my world usually becomes better for it, because somehow the dissection has broadened my respect for and sometimes awe of the artist.
I'm just getting started with perfume, really, and although I find the science of perfume interesting, I do get bogged down by the intense chemistry part. I do enjoy having some facts under my belt – I boggled a friend when I explained that all gardenia is synthetic, when she always thought they just squeezed 'em – stuff like that. In the end it still comes down to that visceral reaction to the smell. I love the mystery of trying to define the notes, and the surprise of discovery (that was vetiver? I was sure it was tobacco!). Sometimes I just know it works, and don't care what it is. Sometimes the list of notes is enough to intrigue me, and then I am puzzled as to why the fragrance smells like none of those things. I think I could study perfume chemistry, but I don't really want molecules – I am happy with anecdotes.
Somehow I am thinking that didn't make a lot of sense – lol!
One of my hobbies is making potpourri [I've been at it since the mid 70's]. I have always loved perfumes and fragrances. Since I'm no expert at blending the different essenses, fixatives, etc. and designing my own concoctions – I'm almost tempted to say that too much information may not be possible for me. However, I do regard perfumery as a sensual art form – I respond to scents on a heartfelt level – an instinctive reaction. I either love it or I don't. It is helpful for me to learn some of the details associated with perfume making, but I prefer for some details to remain a mystery, because, frankly, some of the 'magic' could be taken away. Does that make any sense? BTW – the photo of that perfume lab rocks my world. 😉
I can relate to this argument also from a literary perspective. When studying A Passage to India by E M Forster at school, I read 23 works of literary criticism about it as well as the novel, and the poor book was spliced and diced before me on the mortuary slab, all its techniques and devices laid bare. I have to say that this dissection of literature when I was a student didn't end up spoiling my love of books, but I am much happier reading them on a more superficial level now, just being swept along by the narrative, vaguely aware of a felciitous turn of phrase here and there. This is pretty much the level at which I enjoy perfume too ie I don't need to know too much of the science part – the molecular composition and exact formulation. I would like to know a more definitive list of notes than you can find on Osmoz and the like, which might put me out of my misery in terms of whether I am simply imagining the civet in things!…but that is about it, for I am only good at picking out some of the notes anyway, such that a complete breakdown would be wasted on me. Reviews are good – impressionistic or otherwise, they are all valid ways of skinning the cat. I love reading about perfumers and histories of individual perfumes – yes, I guess the history and marketing side is interesting and enhances my enjoyment, along with some basic scientific facts such as Tama mentions about the non-squeezing of gardenias! So I am probably a 5-6 out of 10 in my hunger for knowledge, where 10 is voracious and 1 is where I was at last January, with one rancid bottle of Intuition on a sunny windowsill.
I think for people who make perfume, it's a whole different game–just like for writers reading is different, for architects buildings are different, etc. But I never thought about how it could actually detract from enjoying perfume! I guess my closest experience would be that I can't eat in a restaurant after I've worked there….
I think it really depends on *how* you process the knowledge, too. For instance, I swear that some wine aficionados don't seem to enjoy wine at all. Especially when they're in company. So much pressure!
Good point! I'm not so much a “science geek type”. I want the sensual experience, and any knowledge that refine that for me is wonderful, but some information puts me too much in my head.
I agree, too, that info on notes, sillage, etc., is super helpful.
I have had this exact same struggle! I want to know different notes and get better at recognizing them, but I'm afraid it will take something away, too. Still, someday I do hope to have a set of aromachemicals and essences.
Karen, thank you! It's hard, really, for me to confess that I don't know squat about chemicals and am on the fence about learning more, so I'm glad to know that I'm not alone.
That perfectly sums up how I feel about it, too. But who knows? Sometimes I wonder if I'm jealous of all the geeks who smell something and can diagram its chemical composition.
I know what you mean. When your knowledge includes what's hard to find, what's expensive, what's the latest “darling” scent, it's hard to separate that sometimes from what it is that you love, no matter why you love it.
I love your comment and really appreciate your observation about Buddhism and being in the moment instead of in your head. Of course, backstory and knowledge can inform and deepen our experiences, but sometimes it can drag me away from what I'm experiencing and put me a place where I'm working too hard to smell and enjoy.
Interesting comments about the perfumer! That does make me feel better.
I love your description of Mitsouko, too. I think one of the things I like best about reading many of Luca Turin's descriptions of scents is his ability to write a description that evokes a whole scene–just like your description of Mitsouko–and then pepper it with just enough info to give it backbone.
But it did! I understand perfectly. I definitely want some knowledge about a scent, but how much is too much? It sounds like you are figuring out your balance, too, and maybe the answer is, “it depends”.
I love the idea of a knowledge rating on reviews! I'm probably at about 6, too.
I completely understand the analogy to literature. Once I find myself analyzing transitions and shifting POV, it's all over. I need to cleanse my brain with a good mystery novel.
Personally, I don't want to know so much that it would take away the enjoyment. It's enough to know the notes, and what the idea/thoughts were behind the development of the scent.
To realize the juice is a bunch of chemicals, takes away the mystique of it all! (for me, anyway)
I really do think that if you're making perfume or other scented things, it probably is different for you. (Of course, now I'm thinking of the comment above that talked abut the perfumer who liked some mystery from time to time, too.)
Despite everything I've written here, it would be great to be in the perfume lab in the picture and play around!
I do love the stories behind fragrances–what inspired them, what accidents played into their formulation, etc. (Of course, lots of it is probably marketing!) Maybe because I'm not particularly scientifically minded, the chemicals don't inspire me much.
some discussion on this question came up in the october 19th post on grain de musc: the big green white bubble at http://graindemusc.blogspot.com/. i commented on how the 'lists of notes' are many times really unhelpful to me, firstly because of the many different formulations of a particular note, but mostly because they do nothing to address the structure of particular perfumes. for me, i find i respond maybe as much to how a perfume is put together as to particular notes, so that is important to me since usually i'm trying to dig through to those very few scents i'm attracted to.
it's also frustrating to me as someone with degree of training in the visual arts, where there is a huge history of talking about art. can you imagine someone describing a painting by saying 'well, there's blue, and yellow, and gold, and….' without you even knowing if it was a portrait or landscape, much less if it was painted in a certain style (cubist, fauvist, etc.) carmencanada helpfully suggested reading some of 1000fragrances, as octavian (the blog author) is trained in scent making. i believe she also pointed out that many blog authors do tackle the issue of structure, but the language is difficult as so many are self taught. anyone with an interest in the topic will find her post worthwhile, i think.
however, my mom lives in napa california, and i can't help but think of the wine industry. they sponsor classes and events on wine appreciation which outline the ways of talking about wine scent, flavor, structure, etc. in a way that's accessible to the layperson. they don't overload consumers with technical information but have developed enough of a common language that a person can navigate the industry enough to remember what wines they like and so find (and buy!) more along those lines.
maybe with perfumistas' having such a presence here on the web, the industry will become more motivated to provide some similar type of education to thier clientele. i think events such as the Sniffapalooza's may very well push the industry in this direction.
This reminds me of the (supposed) heart/head dichotomy, which never sat well with me, not as a literary scholar, not as a filmmaker artist, not as a person navigating life, until one day I had my “a-ha!” moment: Why must they be separated???
Balance, knowing how you work/process things, being in the moment…they all speak to following the path that works for you. Which may be hardest for those who feel a substantial tug/interest from both sides of the coin. Pick the percentage that works for you…
…for example, I completely empathize with the literary studies anecdote about over-analyzing something. On the other hand, if your knowledge of post-modern narrative structure, or inverted meter, actually lends to the fun of reading something, there's nothing wrong with that.
Besides, more knowledge may lead to more ways to approach, and therefore appreciate, your object of interest. Get lost in it one day. Analyze its composition the next. Select it as a tactical maneuver another time. All of these are possible, and using any one doesn't dismiss the possibility of the other bringing pleasure or reward.
All of these possible combinations of appreciation are probably one of the reasons I devour so many bloggers opinions and observations on perfume–including your informative and entertaining observations, Angela! Thank you!!
Your comparison to art is really telling. I can imagine the same thing with music, “It's in D major and there are some violins…” Not very helpful.
I enjoy the posts at 1000 fragrances, too. I like the recent posts talking about style. That's the kind of information and analysis that is stimulating–rather than stultifying–to me. I'll have to catch up with Grain de Musc and read the comments on the post you mention.
Scent really is the forgotten art, I think. Every college offers music and art appreciation, but fragrance is largely forgotten.
Your point is really well taken that we can approach fragrance from all sorts of perspectives–different ways on different days. That sounds really appealing.
I wonder, though, if I started to really examine the mechanics of fragrance if I would get stuck in that sort of analysis and squeeze the joy out of it? I suppose I, like everyone else, have a balance between blind sensing (if there is such a thing) and cranking it through my brain, and I can lean a little more one way and give it a try…
I have nothing intelligent to add, but I really enjoyed reading these comments. I suppose I'm a little of both — I like some information, the list of notes, the develoment and sillage. At the same time there's something to be said for stumbling across a fragrance blind, like an unlabeled vial, and just experiencing it for what it is with no preconceptions.
I know how you feel. That's why the title of the post is a question and not a statement. Information to help you smell, give you backstory, give you enough info to decide whether or not to sample it–all of that I know I want.
But information on particular chemicals? Well, maybe. But not too much, at least now, at least for me. Of course, I could be singing a different tune in a year.
“…more knowledge may lead to more ways to approach, and therefore appreciate, your object of interest. Get lost in it one day. Analyze its composition the next. Select it as a tactical maneuver another time. All of these are possible, and using any one doesn't dismiss the possibility of the other bringing pleasure or reward. ”
so very well put! and a great idea as well. the trick is to keep it fresh and not get stuck in a rut, and like you say, being exposed to different people's points of view can really help in that endeavor. thank you!
It is well put, isn't it?
I agree, Angela. I also think the 'how' of processing the knowledge has a lot to do with personality type. A lot of people just like to know things – the enjoyment comes from the knowing, not the experiencing. This, btw, is different from a scientist's knowing, in my opinion.
I'm a bit more freewheeling in my approach. I have a bazillion samples and lots of FBs and I now know I love skank and some incense and not so much rose….but beyond cumin, rose and a couple of other standout elements, I couldn't tell you what comprises a particular scent. And that's okay with me and doesn't in any way affect my enjoyment of perfume. for others, it's important that they at least know what the top,heart and base notes are. And the 'knowers' have their own requirements as well.
I'm pretty much the same with wine; even when I know a lot about a particular wine I limit my remarks to 'yum', “I like it', “pour me some more, please'!!
Hey, you're making me thirsty! Nowadays I find myself comparing wine to perfume (example: “do you taste violets and sandalwood?”), but you won't catch me slurping air into it like professionals do or cherishing a bottle simply because it's expensive or rare–although, that said, I'd love to try some expensive and rare wine, to be sure.
Love this discussion, Angela. For the moment, I'm really interested in learning more about the nitty gritty of how these fragrances are constructed. I'm fascinated especially right now by stucture, and how a really skillful perfumer can create this feeling that a perfume is unfolding in space and time, rather than just being a soggy mishmash of individual sents all glommed together. The big white green bubble discussion on graindemusc was eye-opening (or is that “nose-opening”?) for me.
I've been enjoying the posts on http://www.musiciendesodeurs.com/, including a recent one entitled “how a perfumer smells.” It would seem that even perfumers deal with the tension between wanting to dissect a fragrance into its component parts, versus experiencing the whole picture. It seems that both are important.
I can't speak to that degree of knowledge and capability in being able to take apart and understand a fragrance, but when I was in music school, we also had to study a lot of music theory, history, and harmony. I remember having to learn to sing moveable solfège (which really forces one to learn the relationships between notes within a particular key, and, incidentally, is difficult for those who have perfect pitch), and also learning how to play figured bass (where we'd be given a sort of harmonic notation, and asked to improvise the actual chords and textures following those prescriptions). In all these cases, learning the nitty gritty of how music is constructed didn't take away from appreciating the magic of Bach, Beethoven, or Brahms, but, on the contrary, enhanced our experience of the music. So, I should hope that it would be similar for one's appreciation of perfume as an art form.
Hi ! Madame Grain de Musc, here… I love those reflection posts. I've been thinking about your theme recently and I would probably say I'm a sensuous geek. I'm an avid knowledge seeker — understanding stuff is probably one of my greatest pleasures in life, and as I've recently made something of a perception breakthrough in grasping some elements of structure in fragrances, I'm revelling in that.
I often do marathon sniffing sessions with Octavian, who's a friend and practically a neighbour: of course, I'm not anywhere near his ability to pick out notes (he's an ISIPCA graduate) but then, picking out notes is ultimately just part of the deal, a party trick, if you don't get into other dimensions. Structure is one of them: pure unadulterated pleasure in the beauty is another. I've found that both Octavian and I can switch on that “pleasure in beauty” capacity: very often, we have “wow, this is so gorgeous” moments…
On the other hand, what I've found a bit difficult as a blogger is the need to feed the blog: it sometimes deprives me of just wearing stuff I love without feeling the need to put words to it…
Please do drop by, Angela! It would be a pleasure.
Really interesting post! I was wondering these days how much, and in which way, my reading about perfumes changes my perceptions and my olfactory experiences! I think that it essentially raises or lowers my expectations, leading the way to wonderful surprises or great deceptions.
When a “great deception” occurs, I usually blame myself for not considering the very subjective nature of perfumes. Like in visual arts (or the arts in general, actually!) – you can acknowledge the technique, or the extent to which the artist was able to inspire future creations, but at the end very few creations will be able to move you deeply and to silence notions, critics, and trends.
And the more blogs I read, the more I start thinking that beauty never follows rules, and I am willing to state that unanimous praise can’t be genuine – in a way or the other. Not everyone can love a “masterpiece”, neither be able to acknowledge it.
Maybe reading about a list of notes can inspire me to try a perfume out of the huge flow of new releases or dismiss it before even sampling it, but even notes aren’t an accurate thermometer of the fragrance – how many surprises!… and knowing the chemical components, reading about molecular engineering of, say, lavender… this is interesting to know, but I fear it won’t move my perception of the fragrance, maybe it will just raise (or lower) my price expectation – and the money I could be willing to pay…
Angela, I must say that when a title of a new article on NST grabs my attention, I usually plunge ahead and read it without looking at the name of the author. If after I read it I feel an imperious need to contribute a post … well … 99% of those articles are YOURS 🙂 Beautifully written yet again!
The comparison of fragrance and wine is very close to me since I smelled wine before I could walk – Dad's a wine expert and I come from a family of wine makers. I drink perhaps 1 glass a week if that, but I know about wine. I just enjoy it in moderation and in a civilized way. If a guy wants to turn me off he can say he's an “abstinent” as that, in absence of a medical reason, spells “recovering alcoholic” for me.
Now to perfume. Perfume is a physical thing. Fragrances speak to me and I feel them in my head, my heart, all the way down to fingertips, toes and even – for great perfumes – in my knees.
They are like music – some perfumes are symphonic, some are rock-and-roll, some ambiental, some an Argentinian tango. The heavy metals and rap I can do without.
These days I only bother to find out about a fragrance if I like it at “groin level” or if the notes sound like I may enjoy sniffing it. Of course there are fragrances a perfumista needs to know about, like Shalimar – never liked it but not to know about it is like not knowing the multiplication table.
People who need to overanalyze a fragrance before they smell it may have that need about everything – the types who need to check someone's medical and credit history before going on a movie date.
Little do they know that no amount of information or analysis will do as much as one good sniff at the right moment.
One thing I find, with learning what makes a perfume a classic, I want to like a scent and still, even though I can tell it is exceptional, not ever really loving it. It feels like you should love it but basically, perfume is about how it makes you feel, not how technically brilliant it is. To this end, I have to admit that, whilst I admire Bandit, I really can't ever love it.
I think that it really depends on the individual. For me, there is no such thing as too much information. I am voracious and could read and talk perfume all day! I would absolutely love to be able to pick out all the notes and dream about going to Grasse to train as a perfumer. (Hard when you are on the other side of the world!) Basically, I am obsessed!
You make a strong case for the value of getting to know, as you say, the “nitty gritty” of how perfume is made. There's something in the theory of perfume, too, that's really interesting to me and doesn't take away at all from my pleasure.
Hurray for you! It's fabulous to have a real passion.
I can understand that. Admiring something and loving it are not the same thing.
It sounds like you second another of the comments above, that the desire to analyze something closely is a personality trait, and you are an out and out sensualist!
Now I'll be thinking all day about which perfumes go with which music…
What an interesting observation that “beauty never follows rules”! It's true that lots of perfumes that are especially wonderful have broken rules or at least challenged expectations. Look at Chanel No. 5, Shalimar, Bandit, Angel–they were unexpected or extreme, and that's part of why they made their mark.
It's too much knowledge for me when I find myself wearing a scent because I think I should appreciate the craftsmanship, sophistication, whatever I've read about in various critical sources, and find I've disregarded what my nose and heart are saying. On several occasions, I've found myself wearing something that I just don't like only because I think I should like it. Perfume The Guide, for instance, led me into some truly revolting olfactory spaces as well as into some rather nice ones. I have only myself to blame for being too easily seduced by prose.
As long as my intellect supports my physical and emotional sensations, I'm o.k. When my brain takes the lead, my physical and emotional selves rarely follow just because they are told that they must. This, btw, applies to many other situations than the wearing of perfume.
I adore Grain de Musc–I'm so glad you started writing it. I'm sorry I haven't commented, but I read most of your posts for sure.
It sounds like you don't get too “in your head” about perfume and miss the sensual part of it, which would be my big fear. Have you ever sat at a table with brainy wine drinkers and wanted to shout, “Forget the 32-case distribution, burnt coffee finish, and for god's sake stop that slurping. Are you enjoying that glass of wine? Does drinking it and paying attention let you enjoy this meal more fully?” I don't want that to happen to perfume, so I'm happy to let cashmeran remain a mystery–at least for the moment.
Just a little early morning rant.
I think you summed it up really well. Maybe it's “too much” knowledge when it leads you to distrust how you experience a perfume.
I am going to throw my hat into this line of thinking, too. I think it is mostly a personality trait. I am not overly analytical and would rather pick up the knowledge along the way (and in the past year I have definitely picked up quite a bit- reading blogs and sampling). But I certainly have friends who stumble upon something they are passionate about and need to know everything about it inside and out…
Hmm, that's too bad. I've been in and around academia for many years, so if someone comes off as trying too hard to seem like an expert, I just laugh. If you truly know your stuff, then why worry about whom you impress? Besides, there's always someone higher on the totem pole.
Same goes for perfume. There's always someone who knows more than I do and I'd rather learn than write off knowledge as an impediment to hedonism. I'm just as sensual as the next person, I'd wager, but I like to see the nuts and bolts, too. One does not preclude the other. Must be my personality showing. 🙂
It does make sense. I might be interesting to correlate Myers Briggs scores with how people like to experience perfume!
You're so right. It really sounds like knowing the nuts and bolts doesn't interfere at all with your appreciation of perfume. You have great balance!
As I've grown into a deeper appreciation of fragrance, beyond the simple 'do I or don't I like it' reaction, I've begun approaching fragrances much as I do books.
When a new book comes out, if it looks as though it will be made into a movie, I wait to read the book until after I've seen the movie. I'm never satisfied with the movie if I've loved the book. But I can thoroughly enjoy a movie if i've not read its book first. And the book seems so much richer if I've had the visual experience of the movie preceding it.
Similarly, if I know too much about a fragrance before sniffing it, the veil of mystery is lifted. But once I've had the olfactory experience, I'm keen indeed to find out about the notes, the perfumer, the back story, anything I can get my hands on. This information, too, is enriched by the experience of having sniffed the scent with no preconceived notions about it.
I have to agree that the desire for analytical understanding is a personality trait, but I also think that can evolve. I come from an insanely “foodie” family, and when I was younger it used to drive me batty how they would analyze every component of every meal — can't we just shut up and EAT?! But eventually I started doing it myself, and it can be so pleasurable to figure out that the weird taste in some dish is actually lavender, or that the little crunchy bits are toasted tapioca. It's one part detective game, one part science geek (as someone put it above). (By the way, Cook's Illustrated is a great magazine for those of you cooks with an analytical bent.)
I'm still learning this perfume stuff, but while I adore discovering every detail about a particular scent, I don't always want to know it from the get-go. There's a lot to be said for approaching a fragrance with no preconceptions and then, once you've experienced it without bias, learning what others have to say about it. On the other hand, with the hundreds of perfume choices out there, you HAVE to do a bit of research first simply to narrow down the field and not drive yourself bananas sniffing a thousand scents that you'd never wear.
One more thought: I like knowing about the chemical makeup of perfume, partly because that's how my mind works, but partly because I like how it sticks a big ol' pin in the ridiculous puffery of perfume PR. Iced lingonberry? Whispers of musk? More like methyloxybenzolingonmuskolane-538…
I just read your post after posting something similar below about preconceived notions, but I'm completely different on books vs. movies: I try not to ever see a movie first if I know I”m going to read the book one day! I hate how when I finally read the book, I can only visualize the characters and places as they appeared in the movie — I'd rather leave it up to my imagination, not the filmmaker's.
I adore Cooks Illustrated and the newer Cook's Country in both the magazine and show forms! Yes, I have a crush on Chris Kimball. 🙂
Living in France, I think most Frenchmen (it's mostly the men, isn't it) have a slightly more discreet way of going about it — not that we don't have our wine pedants (we invented them). Wine appreciation is a great bourgeois sport and occasion for one-upmanship. Amazingly, this makes many of your standard-issue upper-middle-class Frenchmen quite good at reading perfume notes, when you wave a scent strip under their noses.
I have smelled cashmeran. I don't like it by itself, but find it deeply intriguing in some blends. It's really not just about the notes, is it?
SoMuch, Yes! What a good point. Getting to know the mechanics of a perfume AFTER having experienced it is such a good way to do both.
L, that's funny! I never thought about aromachemicals that way….
And, as with you and your family with food, I do like to try to figure out what I'm smelling–or at least what I'm smelling is supposed to approximate–and I'm starting to think I might be willing to delve a little more deeply into the chemicals. Maybe.
L, I bet most people feel the way you do. I know I'm very particular about how I want my Elizabeths and Darcys to look.
I used to have a subscription to Cook's Illustrated, but I have so many cookbooks as it is I had to cut myself off. It is such a great magazine, though.
Just like painting isn't just about pigment and music isn't just about tubas.
I love “great bourgeois sport”!
Ooh, Angela. Correlating Myers-Briggs with preferred fragrances! That could be really cool. I like the music style idea a lot, too.
Very interesting thread! I think that, out of 10, I am an analytical 8 and a sensualist 2. Oh how I sometimes wish it were the other way around! On the other hand, for people like me, there is plenty of pleasure in analysis. And when we have the rare totally sensual experience, it is such a high!
The whole aromachemicals thing makes me feel like I'm living in 'The Matrix'. “What is real Neo? Do you really think that's AIR you're breathing?” But more like, “Hmm, is that really toasted marshmellow I'm smelling?” haha
It seems like scent would be pretty amazing to study, science-wise. And then to have the pleasure of smelling perfume, too!
The Matrix! That's funny.
Reading the comments in this post is just as interesting as the intelligent and insightful question Angela asks. It is clear that fragrance provokes thought and emotion. Each person has different needs with regard to how much they want to know about the parts that make up “whole” of a perfume. I think that the best perfumers want to share ingredient information with consumers in a way that doesn't color their experience of it. Poor marketing sometimes gets in the way of this and detracts from the overall fragrance composition. With the Internet, a person with a curious nature has a choice and can dig in as deeply as they want. Thank you, Angela, for raising the question in the first place.
I think it is interesting to learn about the different chemicals and notes…up to a point. I do like learning about chypres, classic formulas that can no longer be created, head-space technology, the standard info about aromachemicals, the classification of a fragrance, etc. But there will always be some magic involved b/c I could memorize every aromachemical, every natural essence, and all the rest of it, but I can't predict how all that will react to my own skin or my own nose. There are always those frags that I should like b/c of the notes, but don't. And ones that surprise me b/c they just work. That is the magic of fragrance – that's why it's an art, not an exact science, even though it does involve science. (Most forms of art involve science one way or the other – chemistry in painting, audio sound waves in music, the biology of our eyes, noses, etc.) Art takes science and other human and natural features, combines them all to make an expression. Fragrance is just a olfactory expression. No matter how much you study and learn, no matter how much you id notes that make a frag “seem like me”, you can't ever really know until you smell it in your own nose and test it on your own skin. I think that's why fragrance is so wonderful – it's a social art and it's also so profoundly personal. It would take quite a lot for me to become blase to fragrance because I knew too much.
I also agree with Glass Petal Smoke above that poor marketing and poor investments in development & ingredients does more to hurt frags than too much knowledge. Maybe more knowledge will begin to diminish the cheapening of fragrances by accountants, ets.
Vanessa has an excellent point: we are human, and we want to be charmed, beguiled, wooed by the art of the creator, whatever he or she creates–a story that we must read to the end, a beautiful image, captivating sounds, a lovely fragrance. Those who may want to create on their own, or who are compelled to know the whys of creation, may find a need to study why these things are so moving; so they turn to literary criticism, art and music theory, and organic chemistry. There is no necessity to do these things, however; it is enough simply to enjoy these arts as we find them, to take in their beauty, and appreciate the effort and skill that went into their creation.
Maybe each person has different needs, and tolerances for information, at different points in their time getting to know perfume, too. I can imagine myself wanting to know more at some point, but right now I'm happy with stories and enjoying smelling.
There's definitely worlds to learn about perfume, that's for sure.
Yes! Perfectly put.
This is a great question. As I've learned more about perfumes, I can testify that I've managed to annoy the hell out of everyone around me with my pratting on about synthetic versus natural notes, clean versus animal scents, etc. However, I don't think I can know enough about perfume – the jow won't leave just because I understand the chemistry.
I do not care what critics think of a perfume. I used to, and was thrilled when someone like Chandler Burr would refer to one of my favorite scents as “brilliant”. Then I realized that we all smell things a little differently (hence the puzzlement for many of us upon reading Burr's description of L'Eau D'Hiver as smelling of fresh crab just pulled from the ocean), and I honestly don't give a rat's ass if a critic pans a scent that I adore.
It sounds like you're in a happy place–enjoying knowing more and more about perfume, the joy of perfume still there, and not caring what other people think of it. Perfect!