Leather Series 2: Scented Leather and its Origins

It wouldn’t be inaccurate to claim that French perfumery owes its birth to the malodorous tanning process and its nauseating smell of decay. Shocking as this statement might sound, it is nonetheless true.

Tanning requires the use of nitrogenous waste to cure hides, to make them fit to be processed for the items the aristocracy requested and to kill bacteria that would infest dead tissue. Even today in places where traditional tanning techniques are used, such as Morocco, there are big basins of human and animal urine and feces, along with various tree barks rich in tannin, where workers have to stand with their feet naked, immersed in this revolting liquid, stretching the shaved hides, making them pliable and soft. The smell is trully insupportable for the wandering tourist and it is not without intense distaste that one has to urgently seek solace in a scented handerkchief or a small bunch of greenery to relieve the nose from the malicious fumes emanating from those ponds of filth.

It was not that dissimilar back during Renaissance times, when treating hides followed this method, the atmosphere of which Atelier Grimal from the “Perfume” coffret by Mugler (based on the novel and movie “Perfume: story of a murderer”) tried to capture.
From Florence and Italy, a stronghold of the European commerce with the East and its aromatic tradition, perfumes came to France through historical personages of the Medici family and through an item of clothing: gloves.

The Gantiers, the Guild of Glovers that is, was one of the most important guilds in France. It was in 1268 that it was granted the status of corporation in Paris. It was later under Colbert’s economic management that the gantiers parfumers were awarded pride of place in the Six Corps; the six most powerful societies of the day. This allowed them to have access to expensive products from overseas. The production of leather goods took place principally in Montpellier, a town famous for its tanneries. It was there that Eau de la Reine de Hongrie (Hungary Water) was produced as well. Another centre for tanneries was Grasse. The two towns were economic rivals.

Catherine de Medici (1519-1589), Queen of France from 1547 to 1559 and mother to three kings, was a personality that hasn’t been reinstated historically-speaking yet. The stigma of murderess is still attached, as she used special mixes to get rid of her enemies and was implicated in the St.Bartholomew’s Night massacre. When she left Italy to marry Henri, Duc d'Orleans, she didn’t leave behind her favourite artists, poets and even her own perfumer, René le Florentin ~named Renato Bianco at birth. It was he who scented the gloves that poisoned Jeanne D’Albert, mother of Henry IV. Catherine also made use of poison rings: jewels that opened to reveal a hollow place that contained poison to be poured into drinks and food. Monstrous as the habit seems to us, it was nonetheless very common in the courts of Europe at the time and Catherine turned it into high art. René was the first perfumer to open shop in Paris and soon anyone who was anyone flocked to his door to purchase his offerings; scented goods and ~discreetly, following the tapestry that hid the secret passage to a chamber upstairs~ non-scented goods…

Leather products did not smell particularly good in their raw state. This was due to the tanning process. Tanning de facto involved less than pleasant smells (mainly urinous, used to make hides pliable) and tradition in many countries was to further aromatize the end product with fragrant essences to hide the manufacturing process off notes: In Italy they used musk, civet and orris butter introduced by Muzio Frangipani (hence "gants frangipani"), in Spain camphor and ambergris, in France orange blossom, violet, iris and musk were the usual essences prefered. It is worthy of mention that it is hypothesized that it is exactly this re-odorized smell that accounts for our perception of what leather smells like, in both sartorial and perfume terms.
Catherine, proud of her beautiful hands and a fan of opera gloves to keep them soft, in her desire to mask the smell of cured leather, liked her leathery garments to be scented with agreeable essences. There was also another reason behind the habit though: the dire need to bring something scented to the nose when crossing the streets of the times, which were in actual fact open sewers transporting human and animal waste to the rivers and ultimately to the sea. The improvement on sanitation in the following centuries was a welcome relief that diminished the need, but the tradition remained, having given European perfumery its kick-start.

The real craze for leather goods in the mid-16th century and especially gloves was allegedly imposed by Marie de de Médicis (1575-1642), queen consort and part of the Medici family. Lured by perfumes from Cyprus, the famous chyprés, she sent for her Florentine perfumer Tombarelli to come to Grasse, where the flowers were renowned, instructing him to capture their ambience in perfumed essences. It was thus that Grasse knew a rebirth in economical terms. Tanneries profited from the trend producing the famous Gants à la Frangipane, from the name of the Roman family of the 12th century. Thus the name “frangipani” enters the scented vernacular. The gloves were made by odorizing the leather with fresh jasmine flowers (in lieu of plumeria fowers) for 8 days and fixating the scent with the use of civet and musk.

Soon indigenous plants, such as lavender, Cassie, myrtle and lentisque (mastic) as well as those that took well to the mild climate (such as jasmine, rosa centifolia and Italian tuberose) started to be cultured for the expressed purpose of using them for harvesting their aroma. Grasse therefore gave priority to the scented part of the industry, while Montpellier remained more focused on tannery per se.
However when in the 1760s the French government raised taxes on hides considerably, the gantiers parfumers suffered a crush to their revenues; especially those of Montpellier naturally. Thus Grasse managed to outdo her rival, retaining the privilege of perfume capital for centuries to follow.

Even today the noble practice of scenting leather is echoed in the niche brand Maître Parfumeur et Gantier, created by the perfumer Jean Laporte, previously founder of L’artisan Parfumer. To this day, mr.Laporte sells scented gloves in his Paris boutique, fusing past and present into one fragrant stanza. The legacy of scented leathers has trully enriched our appreciation of fragrance.




Next instalment will focus on another aspect of leather in perfumery.

Pic of leather gloves Ledge by Paul England/Flickr. Painting of Marie de Medici by Rubens, courtesy of Wikipedia

Leather Series 1: Definition and Classification

The aroma of leather in scent is akin to smelling a forest of silver birches in the cold ringing air for the first time, inhaling the insides of a pallisander humidor full of “Cohiba” accompanied with a good malt in a tumbler. It's the razor strap of an old-fashioned barbershop and the smell of saddle and leather-bound old books or savouring a post-coital cigarette. Much like the latter it is often hard to resist and a habit difficult to curb.

Whether one is familiar with perfume lingo or not, fragrances rich in the tannic essence of leather are bound to make an impression, be it one of rapture or one of abjection. It is no coincidence that either of those two sentiments usually ensues on people smelling leathery scents: there is seems to be no middle ground.

But let’s begin at the beginning. What is a leather fragrance? Why is it called thus? What does it smell like?

Leather scents pose a problem in taxonomy. Often appearing as a subdivision of the chypré family, leathery scents span the spectrum between feminine and masculine propositions often marrying other accords which might shift the focus into other families (fougère, oriental and chypré). Perhaps the answer to that is to allot them a separate family, as already properly classified (cuir) by the Société Française des Parfumeurs and from thereon subdivide into nuances. To be more specific, SFDP classify leather fragrances as category G, to be divided in true leathers (G1), floral leathers (G2 usually with notes of iris or violet) and tobacco leathers (G3, with smoky or woody notes and blond tobacco).
It is perhaos a great unjustice that leather/cuir has been a bastion of masculine perfumery. Feminine exempla do occur though and with wonderful results of refined taste.

It is worthy of note that leather is one of the oldest notes in perfumery, going back to the tradition of Gantiers et Parfumeurs; a Guild occupying itself with scenting the leather gloves of the aristocracy, in the 16th century, when pleasurably scented essences were used to mask the malodorous aura of newly tanned leather that had the lingering smell of the materials used in curing the hides, such as urine and dung. A profession out of which that of the perfumer arised. On this subject we will revert on a subsequent instalment. Nonetheless the notion of leathery scents stems from those times and is associated with those materials, trying to replicate the aroma of cured hides. Rendering an animalistic aroma that is redolent of Thanatos and inevitably Eros.

However leather perfumes can have several pitch variables, whether naturally or synthetically derived, making the perception of “leather” confusing and variable. From slightly sweet or with a smoked ambience, especially in specimens when the leather note is coupled with that of tobacco, to possessing a tar-like aroma that is especially simpatico with some idiosyncrasies, perfumes of this genre cater to different interpretations of leather. The matter is further complicated by the modern mention of “suede” note, a synthetic slightly salty accord that interprets the imaginary note of a soft, velvety pliable material we are all familiar with through fashion ~especially shoes. And lately fashion has been instrumental in bringing this forgotten family of scents back au courant.

It is often the association with clothing and accessories such as gloves, luxurious handbags and briefcases, chaps/breeches and battered motorcycle jackets that are most often at the back of people’s minds when thinking about a scent that smells of leather.

Upholstery of expensive cars and gentlemen’s clubs with leather Chesterfield sofas help ante up the luxury factor; while libraries with wall to wall shelves of leather-bound books fulfill the dream of every British-novel-loving acolyte admirably and I consider myself one of them. I can't imagine an afternoon more exquisitely spent than immersed in a big armchair leafing through old books on wizardry from Praha or a fat tome by Gibbon.
There is also the fetishist scene that adores leather for its rough/smooth aspect which is mirrored in the scent itself. This is played up into the evocation of several leathery scents that project an aura of the forbidden or the risqué. But liberty, freedom and individualism can also be viewed as expressions of leather, especially when conjuring up images of adventure, motorcycling, aviation and equestrian activities. The simple leather cord suspending a silver charm on the neck of a youth full of vigour is tantamount to a signal to the world at large of an emancipated identity.

The evocation seems to be conditioned though by frequent exposure to leather that has been treated with aromatic essences, taking into account that the whole aromatization business of hides rested exactly on the axis of people not liking the raw smell of leather per se. Perhaps the subconscious evocation of death and decay that is intrinsic to tanneries is at the heart of this aversion.

There is also the matter of differentiation between different animals procuring their hides: cowhide smells quite different than horsehide, for instance.
Many people also report gasoline or petrol impressions emanating from the bottle of a cuir scent: this has to do with methods of production and is not just their cranky nose, apparently, as you might have thought.

Whatever it might consist of, leather has its special magnetic pull: upon opening an Italian handbag of pedigree, you can’t resist burying your nose into the insides and inhaling the smooth, pungent smell of luxury. And that of nostalgia too: the longing of smelling a forgotten furry-trimmed glove on the back seat of a Rolls.


Next instalments on the series will focus on origins of leather scents and the production of leather notes.

Pic of Monica Bellucci courtesy of MonicaBelluccifan.com. Pic of library by queens.cam.ac.uk

Announcement of a new Series

The Series on different scented subjects here at Perfume Shrine have almost become an institution.
From Incense to Orange Blossom to Jasmine, to Sadosmasochism in perfume and from there to Chypres Perfumes and the Dior Chypres in detail, they have proved to be one of the most beloved and most respected features of this venue.

Therefore in our desire to cater for the ever growing appetite of our discerning readers, we have prepared another Series: this time resting on one of those fragrant materials and classifications that is proving to always provoke a strong reaction.

So stay tuned for instalments to come shortly!

Optical scentsibilities: Neck Rings

Who isn't familiar with the Christian Dior advertisements for their feminine perfume J'adore? Before enlisting Charlize Theron and her fabulous physique, it was Carmen Kass and her graceful East European neck who adorned the pages of glossies. The gold hoops round her neck were shining much like those on the long, giraffe-like top half of the bottle iteself, elongating it, giving it a graceful line upwards. Very innovative, right?

And yet, when one looks back on advertisments from a previous era, one sees that that this is not the case. In fact, Jean Desprez, a perfumer who launched his own creations and not under the wing of another house ~a practice unusual for the second half of the 20th century~ had used this idea for his classic oriental Bal a Versailles, back in the 1960s. The advertisment of this one is more sketchy and less realistic, but the idea remains the same. The rings around the neck, the elongated line that hints at vulnerability. An idea of woman as a constricted being who is subject to the desires of some unattainable ideal, inflicted by men. One could write a whole treatise on this alone! However to revert to more arty rather than feminist issues, every little trait of the two images conspires to show that they both drew their inspiration from yet another source; a source much more in the real world than one would anticipate.

None other than the constrictive beauty ritual of the Giraffe Women of Thailand. In a practice that rivals that of the bound feet of Chinese women (Google the term only if you're brave), those women put rings around their necks producing an effect that although more of an optical illusion than real elongating, it has the unfortunate characteristic of seriously oppressing the collarbones and ribs into an unnatural shape in the long run.
Everything in the name of an unrealistic, unattainable beauty? Putting on perfume is so much easier comparatively. The rest is up to you...as always.

Pics of ads from parfumdepub, pic of giraffe woman from paradise tour.com

The origins of the olfactory theory of Shape?

If anyone is at all familiar with the theory of perfume breakdown and the notion of searching for how the sense of smell works, then that one is familiar with the conflict between the standard theory of Shape versus Luca Turin's theory of Vibration; the latter explained in Chandler Burr's book "The Emperor of Scent".
To make a long story short, the former theory which is accepted by most people in the fragrance business implies that odoriferous molecules are perceived by our nose through their shape variation, different shapes attaching to one another and producing different effects. Dr.Turin has proposed that it is the vibrational difference of various molecules that accounts for the difference in perception and not their shape. The odour receptors detect the frequency of those vibrations of odour molecules in the infrared range by electron tunnelling.
Of course the modern counterpart to the theory of Shape was the discovery of odorant receptor molecules by Linda B. Buck and Richard Axel. The two scientists were awarded the Nobel Prize in 2004.
The battle carries on still, however, as of yet there is not a complete answer to how olfactory perception is shaped.

But how did the theory of Shape come into being? Perfume Shrine delves in antiquity and elected to present the ancient reference to an allusion to such a notion to our readers. Of course the nature of smell had been debated by Parmenides, Democritus and Xenophanes prior to this, but it is in Lucretius that it takes...shall we say, shape.

Titus Lucretius Carus(96-55BC) proposed that pleasant smells -as well as sensations acting as a pleasant stimulus in general- are composed of smooth particles, while the reverse phenomenon -unpleasant smells and sensations- is due to the hooked nature of the particles that form the material. This was of course intergrated into the research into why the universe is made of pleasant and unpleasant things to man.
Lucretius says:

"Thou traverse through, thou wilt discover thus
That in their frame the seeds of many things
They hide, and divers shapes of seeds contain.
Further, thou markest much, to which are given
Along together colour and flavour and smell,
Among which, chief, are most burnt offerings.
. . . . . .
Thus must they be of divers shapes composed"

"For every shape, which ever charms the senses, has not been brought to being without some smoothness in the first beginnings; but, on the other hand, every shape which is is harsh and offensive has not been formed without some roughness of substance".

{from De rerum natura, book II}

Perhaps this ancient theory of tactility was what gave to rise the concept of smell being perceived through the shape of the atoms of the materials smelled. Or this is my theory in any case...



References: Bailey, C. ed. De Rerum Natura. 3 volumes with commentary. Oxford, 1947.
Buck, Linda and Richard Axel. (1991). A Novel Multigene Family May Encode Odorant Receptors: A Molecular Basis for Odor Recognition. Cell 65:175-183.

Pic of classic 5th century BC chalice depicting a Sphinx courtesy of theoi.com. Chosen for its allusion to a cryptic message, a riddle, and not its chronological frame