The perfumes of my life
Posted by Aloïs Guinut on Monday, April 20, 2020 · 17 Comments
It’s been a month I have not worn any perfume. I did not take them in my suitcase to where I am confined.
I would not have thought I’d miss the feeling of spraying perfume to start the day or to go on a date.
I have was not a “perfume girl” to start with.
My mother neither and that’s probably why. But, the rare days she would leave her six children to go out, she would spray some “l’eau d’Issey” and I remember vividly this cloud of delicious aquatic smell around her beautiful clothes and fancy makeup.
My grandmother, who, on the opposite, always wears perfume, is probably the one who offered my my first bottle when I was around 12 years old.
I have no memory of the smell nor the bottle, but, like mom, I would spray some whenever going out for occasions as part of “the ritual” I copied.
For the next 10 years, I think I went perfume free.
Fast forward to 21, studying in Berlin, I am wandering trough the KaDeWe (local high end mall) when a lady offers to spray some “Daisy” my Marc Jacobs on me. I love the flowery smell and, to be honest, the bottle with its graphic plastic flowers even more. I purchased the smallest size with my students money. This was my first grown up perfume.
The year after, I clear up in Paris to study at IFM (Institut Français de la Mode) (I was born and raised in La Rochelle). At school, we are teached about the art of perfume and I am completely hooked. who knew some smells where made from animals? Yuk. Luckily now they are chemical dupes. and that there was a lot more to perfume than the ones at Sephora?
At the time, my parisian born best friend at my school wore Rahät Loukoum by Serge Lutens. Suave but not sugary. I loved it.
So I went visit the Serge Lutens store. and Annick Goutal too. but the prices where NOT the ones from Sephora.
Meanwhile the teaching went on. This times it was Jean-Claude Ellena, nose of Hermès. He told us about when he was invited in the moroccan garden of Leila Menchari, Hermès Faubourg window designer, by the Mediteranean sea. The smell of the plants mixed with the sea breeze inspired him “Un jardin en Méditérannée”. That’s where it hit me. The stories of the perfumes where not in the glossy campaigns, but within the smells themselves.
One of my favorite perfume designers is Annick Goutal. At 23 I purchased her “Petite chérie” with my first pay. It smells like a fresh pear with a young rose and a hint of vanilla. She composed it for her daughter when she turned sixteen. I love the story. Annick Goutal had created her own brand to be able to tell what she wanted in her perfumes without being constrained by a marketing team.
A smell I cherish considering that forever is orange blossom. When I was a kid, my parents use to poor a few drops in a glass of water before I went to bed to “keep monsters away”. I considering that have a special spot for any orange blossom delicacies such as macaroons or brioche. I was looking for this smell captured in a perfume. but all the orange blossom fragrances I could find where a lot more like fresh colognes. until I read an post in citizen K describing the “Néroli” Jean-Claude Ellena had created for… Yves Rocher, a cheap french cosmetic brand. I couldn’t believe. So I went smell it and it was the powdery orange blossom perfection of my dreams. I never got this much compliments on any other perfume so far.
And then there are the smells you change your mind about. At a school gathering, the brand Clarins offered us full sized bottles of their iconic “Eau dynamisante”. I remembered this red bottle from my mommy when I was a little girl. At the time, I assumed it had magical powers. but then when I sprayed it on… It felt to tangy and woody for me. That’s until the heatwave stroke. At this moment I felt I needed it and the fresh energetic smell undoubtedly acted like a shield against summer. I would vaporize it all over my body.
Now that’s how I see smells. Like something that completes my mood. I wear them as I would with clothes or jewelry. The quircky Petite chérie, the sensual Néroli and the energetic Eau dynamisante.
At the moment, the two perfumes I have left home are sprinkly orange Paris-Deauville by Chanel that I bought to replace Eau dynamisante and the sultry lost cherry by Tom Ford to be worn instead of Néroli.
Well, I am lying to you a bit. I did not get lost Cherry. That’s a dupe. I fell in love with lost cherry at first spray but it costs 320 euros! and I recently learned that fragrances aren’t protected by patent law (only the bottle design and name are). So I am the pleased owner of Amarena cherry which smell exactly the same in a awful bottle. It smells like a alcohol dipped cherry, my favorites in cocktails, dipped bitter almonds. That’s so enticing I feel like a femme fatale when I wear it. and yes I googled what “lost cherry” meant. normal Tom Ford.
Now the perfume I covet has the most boring name. Féminin pluriel by Francis Kurkdjian. probably sounds adorable in English but in french it’s like an old ladies magazine’s title.
Yet, do not judge a book by it’s cover… I discovered it during a blind testing. I had told the seller I wanted a grown up version of my Petite chérie pear. and he came up with this one amongst the selection.
I loved it so much I sniffed my wrist all day like an addict. people gave me weird looks.
Now I really want it. I looked at the composition. It contains no pear at all. I am baffled. just the most divine floral bouquet: violet, iris, jasmine, orange blossom… so delicious. Still a bit pear to me though.
Tell me about your perfume stories in the comments
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