Which Type of Perfume Collector Are You?

Among the perfume aficionados set you will find several types: The "I follow only fragrances costing upper of 300$ a pop or hard-to-get niches launched only in Rovianemi"; the "I worship at the shrine of Trish-au-four and everything else is just dog crap stuck on his sole"; the "Give me a good thick unwearable woody emblazoned with oud on the label and I'm set"; the "I chuckle through my fine mustaches as I drive thousands of people to sample expensive things which I semi-loathe, but they're the newest thing and I have to try it out first, don't I".

There are other less aggressive or opinionated ~take your pick~ types as well; from the well meaning housewife who is now living vicariously through her perfume cabinet (brandishing Bandit here and unleashing Fracas there), hidden underneath the mementos of her children who flew the nest for worthwhile pursues of their own (who knows, they might in turn hide a perfume cabinet underneath their university dorm sink!) or the businessman who is hearing tirades on software all day long and relaxes at home with a good old glass of whiskey and a dab of vintage Vetiver on his dressing gown. There is the fashionista type who collects all the latest designer fragrances building a collection, which hard-edge members of specialized fora might sneer at, but who knows her Dolce The One from her Chanel Coco Mademoiselle down pat and can give you a mean advice or two on how to pick stuff for gifts. A subset of that one displays her wares proudly on her dresser, to the amazement of all her friends who ask "do you use all that stuff?" like a clueless person would ask a wine collector whether they drink all that stuff.

There is also the seasoned kind of perfume collector who has become a bit bored with one's self over the years, constantly weeding stuff from the fragrance wardrobe, but at the same time continuously lured in by novelties that promise to be the revolution of the industry in a bottle or by unmissable bargains on an old standby which -guess what- won't be available that much longer.

There is the eager novice who desires to partake of the holy sacraments with an urgency approaching that of hysteria, yet feels unworthy deep down, trying to manipulate himself into liking a revered fragrant beast like Mitsouko instead of vice versa.
There is even the mock perfumista who posts on discussion boards about acquisitions but in reality hasn't even opened one bottle of perfume, setting them on the side for profitable meta-selling when the drive for the elusive has reached improportionate heights. And surely, there are uncharted waters which I might have missed.

Which is YOUR type?


mini perfumes tray collection via 1950s Atomic Ranch House and of bottles collection via Through my Eyes Beauty

Average Person vs Perfumista

Sometimes a question is not just a question. It includes its own answer and some surplus connotations as well. How can this theory be applied to perfume discussion? Here is how: "Do you think the average person on the street would like Chanel Bois des Îles?" The thought was further elaborated: "Does our extreme focus on fragrances make us unable to be impartial judges at this point to what appeals to the masses? And finally...do we even care what the person on the street thinks as long as we like it?" This got me thinking.

For some reason, a question like that presupposes certain things:

1) that Bois des Îles is not popular anyway (OK, I am willing to believe this due to exclusivity, if not taste)
2) that Bois des Îles is therefore somehow superior (which in all truth it is...But this is besides the point, as it is getting asked, so supposedly it would be under scrutiny whether it is)
3) that the average person cannot recognise the value of a superior fragrance if they smell it
4) that the person asking is not average (notice the term "masses")
6) therefore, by process of syllogism, the person asking is superior.

Don't you think such questions are more about the questioner than the question?

The answers are just as interesting:
"I do not think Bois Des Îlesis a particularly accessible fragrance" coming from a "newbie" as she admits. Another continues the above thinking: "I don't eat what the average person on the street eats (McDonalds!) and I'm sure they don't share my taste in scent. That's fine, we can have rarefied taste..." To which there is some follow up: "Bois des Îleswas not made for the average people. I am not interested in their reactions".
And the pièce de resistance, someone asks: "Which street?" (I am laughing now with the wry humour. If it's not humour, then I don't know what to say!)

A friend with whom I discussed this replied with another question: "Why the hell would I want the average person to love it on ME?"
Because it is inferred we pick them, not the other way around. True, dear, true.

Since when our choice of perfume makes us superior? Or is this as ancient as the first cavewoman/caveman who rubbed herbs on the body and believed to be better than the neighbour next...cave-opening? I am asking you!

Pic originally uploaded on Wit of the staircase