Scents of Place
- On special occasions, my grandma wore Chanel No. 5, the height of sophistication. When getting ready, she’d give me a tiny spritz “on my pulse points” that I would relish all day, sniffing at my wrists. For everyday wear, she’d splash on Jean Naté body spray, a lighter and citrusy scent. I wish I could remember her silken powder, which smelled like her wedding bouquet– pure lily of the valley.
- My Mom was known for her signature scent, Obsession. The perfume launched in 1985 and though I think she came to it a few years later, it was still very much in its heyday, and I remember thinking it was impossibly luxurious. The warm amber and vanilla tones followed her everywhere- her coats, her scarves; everyone complimented her on it. At some point, she adopted Eternity in the warmer months. I imagine that my own love for spicy oriental scents is deeply rooted in my memory of Obsession.
- The first scent I remember having for myself is Love's Baby Soft, its pink bottle a totem of femme. I was beyond thrilled to get the perfume and powder set one Christmas. This piece on The Awl makes the allure of the scent– what they call ‘sexy baby’– a memory that’s tarnished in a much cringier way than hoped. Still, I think I'd like it even today, powdery and light, like a whisper.
- A few years later, in 1989, my tween cohort leveled up to what may have been one of the first of an unrelenting trend of pop stars expanding their commercial empire. Debbie Gibson’s “Electric Youth,” with its signature hot pink squiggle was THE epitome of awesome, as much of a must-have as Debbie’s hat. Alas I never managed to coerce my parents into buying it for me, but goddam if I didn’t hoard all the samples yanked from inside my Seventeen subscription.
- In the later 90’s, Demeter Fragrance Library released its line of scents meant to reproduce everyday smells: Dirt, Grass, Gin + Tonic were among its most famous. This trend inspired me to visit a perfume studio, Desana, in a lovely brownstone shopfront on Newbury Street in Boston. This was probably the turning point for me; the entrancing alchemy of imagining the possibilities of a bespoke scent, and mixing this and that until it was just right. My first blend had a base of deep chocolate and vanilla, a note of bergamot, and a gentle powdery nose. It’s what I wore the first winter I spent in Paris. That summer I developed a scent based on the distinct green snap of tomato stems, one of my favorite smells on the planet. I wish I could recreate both of these.
- When I started making real money, buying Marc Jacobs first scent, full of glamorous yet bright gardenia and ginger gave me the impression that high fashion was suddenly accessible. That little luxury went a long way to making me feel strong and self-possessed.
- Looking for a new scent for the occasion of my friend Leigh’s late-August wedding, I discovered Keiko Mechiri's Oliban. It’s an incredibly sexy scent- resinous with Frankincense and swarthy with Damascena rose. In the summer, its honey notes are carried forward by perspiration, reminding me of that sweltering bacchanalian afternoon of drinking and dancing and behaving regrettably. I still wear Oliban today, mostly in winter, loving the way it soaks into my cashmere sweaters, wild at heart, but refined and grown-up.
- Somehow Thierry Mugler’s Angel became my travel perfume, only ever bought in the small size from the impulse buy displays lining the queue at Sephora (of which there are none in London, the horror!) Picked up from a visit to my friend Alex's in Paris, I fell in love with its “scent of sticky candyfloss, mixed with a gentle hint of debauchery."
- Missing the burst of lilacs in spring back home, I now obsess over A Lilac A Day from Vilhelm, which transplants me to the enormous shrub in the very back of my grandparents garden. I'm not sure there's a perfume that makes me happier. Featured in the Somerset House exhibition was En Passant, conceived by Olivia Giacobetti for the legendary perfumery house of Frèderic Malle. Also lilac-based, it is a clean and uncomplicated scent, a breath of promising spring air.