Interview with Dr. Joachim Mensing, Fragrance Psychologist: How we Choose Fragrance and Spring Perfume Moods

“Fragrance and perfumes are offers for personal transformation, indented to bring us from our ACTUAL SELF – how we feel, closer to our IDEAL SELF – how we would like to feel. Behind them is the secret wish to transform our selves unconsciously to give us for example, a more feminine, more sensual, more dynamic or self-confident appearance than what we really feel. They also create a certain atmosphere and emotional setting.” Thus explains to us the intricacies of the perfume dynamic Dr. Joachim Mensing, Fragrance Psychologist, analyzing the lure that perfume (and scent in general) exerts on us. In an interesting interview which touches on the feeling of renewal that spring naturally provokes into most of us at this time of the year, Dr.Mensing sheds light on some of the innermost reasons that direct our choices.

Redbud tree on the Lousios river Gorge in Gortynia, Greece. Source: images.search.yahoo.com via PerfumeShrine on Pinterest

Central to this explanation is the admission that choosing a personal fragrance is a complex situation that can only be explained to a certain degree. Smell is edged on the emotional centre in the brain and is associated with long-term memory, a phenomenon which is familiar to all of us in our everyday lives. "The decision seems to be somehow irrational and is taken spontaneously and connected with the remembrances and feelings that we had and would like to re-experience again", Dr.Mensing elaborates. "They seem to appear out of the blue. The fascination for a certain fragrance is hidden in our subconscious and linked with desires and moods that are difficult to articulate. Of course there is no doubt that there are more and very important factors for the decision to a certain fragrance like the image, the sympathy, the packaging, advertising but also recommendations and word of mouth.
Exciting is, that certain wishes and moods come up more intense in spring, e.g. the wish for change, for spontaneity and to enjoy oneself are overwhelming. We want to live a more playful and frivolous life, we want to live our fantasies, be creative and also be provocative. In the U.S. there is a definitive higher preference for fruity floral fragrance family during this time of the year.

Perfumes that seem to express this spring-feeling are e.g.
Life, Esprit
Orange Tonic, Azzaro
Daisy, Marc Jacobs
Just me, Paris Hilton
Chance, Chanel”

This type of fragrance as our readers know is all over the place so it would be helpful to categorize them in a more analytical way than simply "the fruity floral" and to assess the fragrance market share they have in the USA market with some more data.  “If you take all prestige perfumes of the U.S. market that are categorized into the six big international fragrance families: Citrus Green, Floral Aldehydic, Fruity-Floral, Floriental, Oriental and Chypre, the dominance of the Florals in the U.S. is clear to see. The US market is characterized (like the English) by the spectrum of beautiful floral notes, which come in all kinds of facets and crossovers, ranging from fresh-fruity to Aldehyde brilliant, to the cozy warm interpretations of the so called Florientals. Over 70% of all fragrances belong to one or the other Floral family. Year around the Floral –Aldehydic fragrances are dominating with a market share of close to 30%, but every spring, the fresh-fruity floral become the favorites of all Florals. The refreshing, flowery fragrance Happy by Clinique is a good example”, says Dr.Joachim Mensing.

at Corfu island, Greece. Source: santoriniblog.tumblr.com via PerfumeShrine on Pinterest

The mood for spring fragrances and scents for warmer weather differentiates itself for the usual ambience of winter fragrances, at least to the mind of the average consumer (but often also to us, perfumistas, as we have often discussed the seasonal shift of the fragrance wardrobe and its subtler nuances). So what makes for a different experience between warmer weather and colder weather perfumes? And who are these covered in the international market as opposed to the US? 
Dr. Joachim Mensing explains that  “A typical spring fragrance smells mostly of fresh notes that belong to the type Citrus Green. Their market-share in the U.S. is about 15%. But in the Latin countries like Italy, Spain and Brazil, they have around a 18-25 % share. The citrus green fragrances reach out to a more extrovert personality who wants to feel more dynamic and energetic. They hate the idea of professional routine and don’t want to be bored. They set a signal with these refreshing and stimulating citrus-green-aqua notes like:

O de Lancôme, Lancôme
Escale à Portofino, Dior
Energizing Fragrance, Shiseido
Concentré d’Orange verte, Hermès

On the contrary, a typical autumn/winter-fragrance shows the longing for romantic sensuality. It is the wish for more emotion, tenderness and comfort. It is also the expectation to be spoiled and to be cosseted. This emotional setting is covered best by the Floriental fragrances that have a market share of about 10% in the U.S. for the whole year. Even more important for this time of the year are the Orientals in the US, with a market share of over 12% for the whole year. The Oriental perfumes express with their depth, spiciness’, warmth and mystery (many of these fragrances are loaded with intoxicating and intensive ingredients such as musk, vanilla, exotic resins and wood), which we especially cherish in the winter months.” [ed.note: and sometimes we opt for unusual, warm scents for summer!]

Dr.Mensing also explains the mnemonic connection we're making vis a vis warmer weather fragrances: “A lot of the citrus green family have the smell of young leaves and plants. The combination with hesperidic notes (like grapefruit, lemon, orange, lime) and modern aqua notes creates a sensation of freshness, ozone and the south, which our long-term memory associates pre-dominantly with the Mediterranean climate sensation.” Additionally we seem to actually smell differently during spring "because we are more open to all environmental stimuli and more curious. Our awareness is more differentiated and our nose reacts in more sensitive way. We smell with our emotional centre in the brain, which is the circuit of hormone production.”

Finally a seasonal recommendation asked of Dr.Mensing: Which fragrances would you recommend for Easter, Passover and what would be the best Mother’s Day choice? “Easter was in earlier times a celebration of fertility and in the Christian believes, it is a time for transformation. The same is true for Passover. So fragrances that express a joy of life and new beginning fit perfectly. Most of the people are surprised about their feelings and discover a new joy of life. They want to live more intensely and cherish their way of life,  so I suggest Fruity Floral notes like:

Pretty Nina, Nina Ricci
Cherie, Miss Dior by Dior
Inspiration, Lactose

These are just the perfect fit for this kind of mood.
Mother’s Day scents on the contrary stand for thankfulness, honor and homage. To show this we instinctively search for the most precious gifts. Here, the Floral Aldehydic notes are defined of elegant, sophisticated and expressive top notes that show a brilliance and the pureness of petals. The loved ones will be honored by an aura of respect, confidence and utter appreciation. Examples of this classic, elegant fragrance family are:

No.5 Eau Premiere, Chanel
J’adore, Dior
Caleche, Hermès”

Conducted via beautypress.com

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Best Scents that Sing Spring!, Flora Attica: Galivanting Amidst the Greek Gardens

Bougainvillea petals at Nafplio town, Greece. Source: jon7athan.tumblr.com via PerfumeShrine on Pinterest

Musk Series 1: A Cultural Perception of Musk

Guy de Maupassant notes in Bel Ami:

"The old woman in her turn kissed her daughter-in-law with hostile reserve. No, this was not the daughter-in-law of her dreams; the plumb, fresh housewife, rosy-cheeked like an apple and round like a brood mare. She looked like a hussy, the fine lady with her furbelows and her musk. For the old girl all perfumes were musk."

In another story (One Evening) Maupassant attributes rather different connotations to musk:

"As for me, I was moved and powerfully interested, and in the darkness I could see that little woman, that little, fair, lively, artful woman, as if I had known her personally. I saw her selling her books, talking with the men whom her childish ways attracted, and in her delicate, doll-like head, I could see little crafty ideas, silly ideas, the dreams which a milliner smelling of musk attached to all heroes of romantic adventures".

Musk weaves its thick, ensnaring plot to even grace French roads with its sonorous name. In Greek the term "musk" is called μόσχος (MOS-chos) and it denotes (in both noun and verb form) any delightful aroma, from culinary to personal!
For all its rich history and ubiquity to the vernacular, musk remains a great mystery making even perfume lovers exasperate on its multiple facets and shady nature. Some, daunted by the odorant's sheer animal nature in some compositions such as Muscs Kublai Khan by Serge Lutens, reference "Post-coital genitals", "Caligula's couch", "balls' sweat", "the armpit of a camel driver who has not been near running water in a week" (the latter by Tania Sanchez in her early MUA days) and other highly entertaining descriptors. Kiehl's Original Musk, "wears its seductive intent on its sleeve" and Musc Ravageur tries to say it all at hello.
Those musks are generally termed "dirty" or "animalic musks", even "skanky" (both in reference to the little critter and the vulgar ladies thus called) in perfume-community-lingo; they tend to reflect the intimate aura of private parts and private acts and if you have any apprehension to smells that might offend your workplace or your conservative entourage, you might give them a miss. Nevertheless to a whole bunch of enthusiasts ~myself among them~ the smell is fur-like, cozy, intimate and transcedentaly primal. Not sweaty or fecal exactly, yet with a "lived-in" quality which is inescapeably delicious.

A vast array of different musks, termed "clean musks", are available for exploring for anyone afraid of the former, their scent often reminiscent of fabric softener, your laundry detergent or even shampoo and refined body powder. Serge Lutens has the polar opposite to Muscs Kublai Khan in Clair de Musc. Some of them often take the guise of "white musk", a code-name to signify a lightly floral musk "base", The Body Shop's White Musk being the most famous example. A reviewer at Fragrantica referring to Alyssa Ashley Musk (1969) notes:

"My perception of AA Musk is a very babylike, milky, powderish scent, completely non-defined by certain age or sex or the consumer."

Perfect Veil by Creative Scentualisation, a combo of citrus, vanilla, sandalwood and musk, is termed "a casual, clean-smelling-skin scent" on Makeup Alley, a huge review site. Noa with its sparse formula is "fit for virgins and nuns" per Susan Irvine, a sentiment due to the transparent laundry-day white musks at its base. Allesandro del'Aqua and Helmut Lang make for a fascinating study in musk in their respective eponymous creations.
In some cases musks in a well-rounded composition manage to smell at once dirty and clean, like a human being in various stages of disarray. Such is the case with Chanel No.5: Its intense accord of ylang-ylang and musk, boosted by the soapy ppssshht of aldehydes (a group of predominantly synthetics that were used extensively in soaps and go well with musks) along with classical rose-jasmine, is the very core of sexy. Modern musky florals with woody bases such as Narciso For Her and Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker utilize a cooler sensation, but with the same duality inherent. Imagine your dog and its own musky odor: Doesn't its true essence come out when just out of the shower?
But, herein lies the question, like a savvy member on Perfume of Life asked recently: "how on earth did musk, a term derived from the Sanskrit word for "testicles" because of its origins, come to be associated with cleanliness?"
What is musk in terms of smell and what accounts for its varied perception?
Musk of course originates from the Sanskrit muṣká meaning "testicle," coming as it did from the genital glands of the Musk Deer (moschus moschiferus); two pouches were extracted from the animal through cruel methods that resulted in its demise and the subsequent banning of the practice. The precious pods were opened to exude their aromatic effluvium, worth twice its weight in gold, and used as a powerful fixative and enhancer in perfumes & incense since antiquity. Musk odorants as a group however include glandular secretions from other animals as well, numerous plants emitting similar fragrances (ambrette seed being the most popular, highlighted beautifully in Musc Nomade by Isabelle Doyen for Goutal; also rosa moschata), and artificial substances with similar odors synthesized in the lab. But what perfumers refer to as "musk" is in realityits odorous principle, muscone (or muskone), or 3-methylcyclopentadecanone. Its chemical structure was first analysed by Lavoslav Ružička: Muscone is a 15-membered ring ketone with one methyl substituent in the 3rd position.

Still the fascinating reality is that human "reading" of musks differs widely. What is nectar to one can be anathema to another! Cast your mind back to Napoléon and Joséphine de Beauharnais: At the Directoire period the vogue for animalics (civet, musk, castoreum and ambergris) had given way to a new freshness, ushered in by the Revolution which stigmatised the "dirty" aromatics in relation to the decadent aristocrats who were guilotined. Only a defying elite, the Incroyables and Merveilleuses hung on to them, extravagant in style, wanting to emulate classical antiquity: Their nickname became les muscadins! Napoléon loathed musk and prefered to douse himself in Eau de Cologne and rosemary essence dilutions. His women, he preferred them in violets. The scorned Joséphine in an act of cunning revenge, when she was bypassed for another woman, doused her walls at Malmaison with her favourite musk essence, making her presence painfully unforgetable. Rumour had it that a hundred years later the scent was still perceptible! The Arabs knew a thing or two of musk's tremendous lasting power when they used crushed musk and rose in the mortar of their mosques so that the buildings would exude aromatic delight when warmed by the sun. But why the different reaction to musks?

The answer is twofold: Biological and psychological/cultural. In humans, odor perception phenotypes (MSHM1 and MSHM2) often account for specific hyperosmias (a heightened perception of odorants), the best studied examples being to musk and the sweaty odorant isovaleric acid. A great explanation why one's body odour might be inoffensive to one yet very repulsive/potent to another! Recent reseach going against established biology is that musk perception and sensitivity to it does not variate according to a woman's menstrual cycle like with some other odorants. Le Magnen in 1952 working with a dilution of Exaltolide (a synthetic musk) had found that women had significantly lower thresholds for it than men, 50% of the latter having difficulty in smelling it per se [1]
On the other hand, musk components (both natural and synthesized) are by their very nature very large molecules, bordeline undetactable due to that fact, making a large segment of the population anosmic (i.e.odor-blind) to some or other type. This is usually addressed by the perfume industry by employing an eventaille of various musk components of different molecular weights, so that if one doesn't click on the brain's receptor, another will. The most common anosmias are towards Androstenone (a sex pheromone possessing a musky facet) and Galaxolide (a very common synthetic "clean" musk), while there seems to be evidence of recessive inheritance for pentadecalactone sensitivity in humans; the inability to smell musk behaves as a recessive autosomal trait in a study of families.

The perception of any odorant however has to do with CONTEXT, as proven by the associations of wintergreen in the US vs the UK, "beach" scents and household products in different cultures. Ergo, it's largely cultural rather than biological. Real musk (the best is Tonquin) from musk deer has a rather urinous smell in itself with pungent, borderline fecal tonalities in its raw state, NOTHING like what you encounter in perfumes termed "musk" (even by top brands). Yet diluted and mixed with floral essences (try it with rose) it becomes a warm underground murmur of intimacy. A caress...
Historically, musk synthetics were used en masse in detergents and fabric softeners, roughly at the middle of the 20th century and onwards, to mask the more displeasing chemical nuances, due to their superb hydrophobic properties (ie. musks didn't wash off) and their low price (they were synthesized on the cheap). Thus the association of the "warm" smell of clean clothes out of the washing-machine as well as the lingering smell on the clothes themselves became an association with cleanness itself! That warm "cotton" feel you like in clean laundry? Musks! Funny for a product that initially signified the glandular secretion of a rutting deer's improper parts, isn't it? There is a pleiad of synthetic musk ingredients in the market, not just one or two types (on which we will revert in detail) and therefore there is no blanket term or description for them (not even "white musk" is sufficiently accurate), as every one of those molecules has a different olfactory profile: some smel "cleaner" like dryer sheets, some more metallic, some powdery even, others still with a fruity overlay, some have a vegetal or animalic quality. Hence the confusion of the consumer, who doesn't know what to expect from a "musky" fragrance (or reporting liking some in certain fragrances and detesting others to their puzzlement).

The popularity of said scented products led to the introduction of those functional musk notes in fine fragrance: The increasingly lower percentage of real natural musk in them, resulted in a paloply of "musks" which approximated the feeling of musk rather than the smell itself. Such musks were popular in the 70s especially (following the hippy movement, as a natural progression). The "dirty" association that several Baby Boomers have with musk is not exactly related to musk itself: Talking with American independent perfumer Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, she intelligently proposed that often the association is to the dense patchouli-clouds and unwashed parts (body odor) of the hippies of their youth, as the (incidental) added layer of musk oil was par for the course for the Woodstock era and beyond. The 1970s musks tagged their product with animal magnetism: "It's what attracts!" proclaimed a Jovan advertisement progressing well into the 80s and 90s.

Functional fragrance musks were incorporated in several other types of products as the years passed: soaps, shampoos, powders, deodorants, you name it! 99% of fine fragrances today contain some type of synthetic musk to anchor notes down, especially now that the other animalics are absent; this happens whether the note is "perceived" as musk or not and regardless of being stated as a note or not in the official descriptions. Since most of them fall under the "clean musks" umbrella ~and what's more under a screechy variant of them on top~, we can expect that generation Y will have no mental associations with any of the "skanky" musks and will come to regard the symbol (musk) as the collateral signification (laundry day) rather than the primal one (animal magnetism). The most interesting mental path of them all, nevertheless, is how the companies have incorporated the latter illusion in their ad copy without including the scent of it at all, rather opting for the equivalent of a line of warm cottons drying in the breeze. "Clean musks" are marketed as attractants, as powerful aphrodisiacs, as sexually inviting, thus equating "clean" with sexy! In a culture where personal grooming is a trillion dollar business it somehow logically follows.

Perhaps it was Charles Baudelaire who saw the duality of musk best: fresh yet intimate, and dedicated it to his "dearest, fairest woman" in his Hymn in Fleurs du Mal: "Sachet, ever fresh, that perfumes the atmosphere of a dear nook; Forgotten censer smoldering secretly through the night; Everlasting love, how can I Describe you truthfully? Grain of musk that lies unseen, in the depths of my eternity."[2]


[1]D.M.Stoddart, The scented ape: the biology and culture of human odour
[2]translation William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954) Pics via wikimedia commons, parfum de pub, mongoose.wordpress.com, Nude Painting by Amedeo Modigliani via apolloart.com.

This is part of a series on the note of "musk" and its various types. Please also refer to: Part 2: Natural Deer Musk (Tonquin Musk), how does it smell and info on Synthetic Musk Substitutes and Part 3: The Many Permutations of Musk (Musk Types on the Market)

Chypre series 4: aesthetics

Previously on this series we mentioned briefly that chypres have apparently fallen out of favour in late years, with the exception of the very new "modern" ones discussed. And we pointed out that this is due to the differentiation in ingredients listed, but it must be accounted to something else as well.
After all Jacques Polge attempted to create a new breed of chypre without oakmoss in his 31 rue Cambon for Chanel Les Exclusifs, using a novel accord of iris and pepper. We could mention in passing that this had been reported by dr.Luca Turin a long time ago and I seriously doubt that had it not (and consequently heavily discussed) most people would accurately discern the nuances of those exact two notes. Because yes, 31 rue Cambon is very well-crafted and it seams a textured veil of soie sauvage that is quite different than the orientalised brocade of Coromandel or the chiffons of the rest of Les Exclusifs. One or two of course might profer the opinion that it is not as revolutionary as lauded in its final result, which is what matters most to the wearer anyway, but that would divert us from the point of today's article.

The matter is that chypres (and 31 rue Cambon among them, hence the inclusion) smell very different than the rest of the fragrant families. This is definitely a matter of aesthetics which might attract or repel anyone who tentatively opens this Pandora's box of perfumers' temperas; colours which they love to use, abuse and even distort to create nuanced recreations of abstract pictures that do not resemble anything in particular. If floral perfumes try to catch in some greater or lesser degree a glimpse of fragrant bouquets unfurling and fields in bloom, if citrus perfumes evoke the first bright days of summer and the joys of downing a frozen glass of sparkly, tangy liquid and if orientals make us visualise opulent maharanhis in their palaces adorned with heavy jewels and burning aromatic resins, chypres do not aim to offer a visual subtext to their message. Although they usually get described as mossy, earthy, deep and often damp -like the forest floor of an autumnal day- it is equally valid to note that they offer a smooth result in which none of the seperate notes raises itself in a high-pitched falsetto voice over the others, but they all work in a choral unison of unprecedented discipline and beauty. The notes blurr and blead into each other like watercolours on the canvas. But their finalised effect is usually not very much in tune with watercolours in their feel. They are more solid, substantial, offering great depth and dimension much like the oils on a J.M.W.Turner naval depiction. You feel the smoothness and sumptuousness of them as you apply them on your skin and this is their characteristic that accounts for profound and deep-seated love or hate towards them among perfume wearers.

Chypres also project a level of confidence in themselves. In this regard they share this quality with several orientals; but whereas orientals have a foot in Freudian notions of childhood attachements, since this is a category that is using elements that recall memories of comfort and nourishement (especially in recent years with the emergence of the subcategory of parfums gourmands) such as vanilla and culinary spices, chypres project a more cerebral attitude. They are frequently viewed as extremely sophisticated, whereas orientals might not be as much, and their wearer is often seen as a specimen of womanhood who would partake of The Financial Times on a regular basis. At least this is what the dominant perception is among the general and not so general public.
As Julia Muller in The Haarman & Reimer Book of Perfume notes:

"These perfume users {chypre users} view themselves as being harmonious, well-balanced individuals, who rarely have unhappy or depressive moods. All in all, they are satisfied with themselves and with their lives. They are realistic in their thinking and put less stock in their luck and more in their own deeds."

Perfume consultants attribute those characteristics to a group they term "Extrovert and emotionally stable", which if one dabbles in such things is represented by a special quadrant in the psychological test for perfume choosing known as the Colour Rosette Test.
According to Leffinwell (click here):

"In the color rosette test, the test subject selects from seven different color combinations the one that she likes best. If she chooses more than one rosette, she is asked to pick which of the two appeals most to her. A woman who picks the color combination of yellow, orange, red and pale green, for example, is not only extraverted, active, optimistic and positive – she’ll also tend to prefer fresh floral fragrance notes. Women with a preference for subdued, pastel-like hues like purple or colors like blue-black and mauve, on the other hand, tend to be introverted and pensive. They are likely to want Oriental scents. On the other hand, if the test subject has an equal preference for two color rosettes, she finds perfume creations interesting that unite both corresponding types of fragrances".

If nothing more, this generalisation is fun to peruse and might reveal some hidden aspects of psychology that might or might not bear any relevance to our psyche. There is even a section devoted to men!
For the full test click here.

There is also a more superficial element nevertheless to chypres and their perceived message. Often the very french word chic surfaces in conversations among people into perfume when discussing chypres. Perfume Shrine had discussed the concept of chic in perfumery previously and you can access the article clicking here. As you can see, chypres feature prominently in that notion, exactly because of their manufactured character that does not try to mimic nature but rather to interpret it through the lens of an intelligent human mind.
Sartorial choices therefore follow suit (and there is a pun in this!):

"In their desired lifestyle, these women do not have any interest in keeping up with fashion, in all of its varied manifestations. They love to look well cared for, and their clothing must always be suited to the occasion. In all matters, especially in the case of clothing, they display a pronounced sense of quality. Basically, there are not many very young women in this group of perfume users.”

(by Julia Muller)

Those elements discussed above might hold the secret to why recent years have been the tombstone on chypres. In a world revolving around air-headed celebrities who cannot read a book of chick-lit, let alone The Financial Times and in which low rise jeans stoop to down there revealing crass G-strings with fake Swarovski rhinestones, the attributes of classic chypre perfumes seem almost alien. And therefore shunned in favour of more complacent concoctions that might take shelf space at your local Sephora from those illustrious chypres of yore.



Stay tuned for a Titan of a legend reviewed in the upcoming posts and for analysis on the chronology of chypres in relation to the zeitgeist!

Pic of maison Dior courtesy of gettyimages, pic of Colour Rosette from Leffinwell