Monday, July 5, 2010

"Your perfume is giving me the hives/ a headache/ asthma!"

How many times have you heard that line in one variation or another? Or are you one of the sufferers who feels like you're going to erupt any minute now from the fumes that are coming your way from down the hall? There are two sides to every argument and the modern (mostly Americanised) phenomenon of complaining about perfume-wearing in the workplace and public spaces is interesting to dissect, if hysterically overacted in some cases. Like the one involving Susan McBride, a Detroit city employee who claimed a co-worker’s perfume and room deodorizer caused her to suffer from migraines and nausea and in turn sued the city, claiming the scented workplace hindered her from working properly.

Most impressively, nevertheless, McBride actually won a $100,000 settlement and Detroit city employees in the three buildings where McBride works are now being warned not to wear scented products, including colognes, aftershave, perfumes and deodorants, or even use candles and air fresheners! Incidents like this and reportage from common folks who comment on MSN articles citing the incident as an example of a greater issue make me think. And the majority of interesting questions in this world begin with one simple word: "why". WHY has scent been given so much importance in today's society? Why is this annoyance greater now rather than decades before? And why is perfume and scented goods demonized in such a way? Is perfume wearing the new taboo? Or the new smoking?

Let's start by a typical example, taken from actual comments by readers. One woman complains about her co-worker constantly brewing fresh chai tea five times a day on her desk (Talk about a lot of constipation, but let's not tackle this right now). The smell of tea being brewed bothers her. She complains she's getting a headache. The other woman quips by saying she got a headache by the smell of the noodles that the other woman brought at the office the other day! The situation escalates to the point that the incident is reported to Human Resources and the floor manager. Chair brewing is brought to a halt. You see...nothing is as uncomplicated as a simple repulsion to the smell of something. Imagine how this can take on other shades of meaning when the offending item in question is a scented gift from a beloved one or even if it takes on the "enlightened" appeal of aromatherapeutic products. Or...the horrors, a humble deodorant (banning it risking a major case of the BOs) or the cleaning fluid for the floors!

Allergies and headaches triggered by scented products are a serious issue. I don't deny that for a minute! Let me repeat: I don't deny it. People battle with symptoms that can be debilitating. Some are even seizure-like, recalling epilepsy ("sensitivity to strong smells, flashing lights and certain noises"). For all that there is proper medical care, while common sense dictates to respect people and tone down whatever is making them ill, assuming the pinpointing has been successful. But how much of that is real and how much is simulated for various reasons? Even scientists are sometimes baffled. Where does one draw the line between having something hurt them ("I'm getting nauseated") and having something just annoy their aesthetic principles ("I hate that scent")? Reportedly the percentage of genuine medical conditions is very low. "Hey man, you stink!" is politically incorrect, whether the stink comes from body odour or perfume or smoke...Has this political correctness which has pervaded the American society prevented men and women from giving voice to what displeases them in a rational and level-mannered way, thus provoking secondary reflexes that lead to overacting and passive aggressiveness? I think it has.

Scent mapping is starting to become the equivalent of turf wars and a victim attitude that would "pay" for other things, some of which are tangible in the form of monetary recompensation. People have got ideas, after that $100,000 settlement. But it is the power trip which gives the thrill. Scent has always biologically been a way to mark one's territory and man (and woman), a grown-up animal out of the jungle, is refining the process by donning olfactory shoulder pads, marking one's personal space. Refuting someone's right to gnaw on your own personal space -within the public one- seems like resistance to usurped authority, claiming part of the common territory back, setting the line on someone's power. Doubly so, as perfume choice and individual odour is such an intimate, personal matter. It reads as rejection of someone on a deep, core level. How many times have you rejected a potential lover because you didn't like the way they smelled? And how many times have you felt flattered because someone praised your scent?
"A person doesn't necessarily have a right to wear perfume, but the person does have a right to be able to breathe in the workplace" is cited as reason for the indignation. Clearly perfume wearing is considered frivolous. The floodgates on entitlement to rights and the cult of "me" opened up at some point during the last 20 years, after which a major step back in basic manners and common sense ensued. Which brings me to another point: It's noted that the majority of complaints and the escalation of such cases is witnessed in the US (and to a lesser degree Canada). Other countries do not have such a problem (yet, at least). Why is that? I believe it has to do with a couple of reasons.

First of all, the frivolity of perfume seems ingrained in a WASP mentality, the glorification of soap and water of almost religious significance. "Cleanliness is next to godliness", right? Interestingly, the aphorism is similarly coined in other languages to extol the value of cleaning up; but the connection is not made to the divine, but rather with other values, such as social status. To further this syllogism, one might argue that by eschewing the god-prefered clean smell of soap and water, covering it up with perfume is "reeking" of suspicious motives. What are you trying to cover up, dude? Perfume wearing has for long being tied to members of the fair sex of low reputation in particular (parfum de puta), trying to cover up the smell of other men on them, or a witch-hunt mentality in which scent was used to ensnare men and control them through the subliminal medium of olfaction.

Another reason might be that the cubicle farm culture is most prevalent in the US rather than other countries. The tight-knit space does induce discomfort, conflict and ennui! Someone has to be blamed and perfume is so easy to target. Especially so since smells invade our space and trigger emotional responses. Which makes me further the thought: Has no one considered Sick Building Syndrome? Several of the symptoms described for perfume intolerance happen to be identical with those for the above condition.

What is perhaps even more intriguing is that I distinctly recall a perfumer saying that American perfumes are made with a higher concentration within the established Eau de Toilette and Eau de Parfum concentrations so as to satisfy the taste to have your perfume announcing you, a form of "olfactory shoulder pads" which used to be very demanded by the market focus groups on US soil. Historical fact confirms that some of the most potent, powerful fragrances first met with success in the US, such as Narcisse Noir by Caron, due to this preference. In a globalised market perhaps this isn't always the case, although several popular fragrances do get produced at different factories for different countries ("made in US" vs "made in France" etc., plus the difference in the alcohol used as a carrier vehicle for the essences) Several of the modern "clean" scents bearing American brand names (the Clean brand for instance) are so harsh and synthetic that they do pierce sinuses. In view of the above is it any wonder that lots of Americans are complaining? I don't think it's entirely their fault! But it does make for a new arena for the claim of personal space in an increasingly tight, overpopulated world.

On to you: Is perfume the latest taboo? Is it the new weapon to battle one's battles in the workplace? Do you have any problems from someone else's scent?

pics via legalblogwatch.typepad.com and dentalcollectibles.com

Mystery of Musk: Verdigris (Belly Flowers perfumes),Tallulah B (Jane Cate)

Reflecting upon the musk fragrance samples I have received (a couple still missing in action) for the Mystery of Musk project, I am reminded of how the mind works and what associations and -sometimes received- expectations we place upon things. The Mystery of Musk began as an innovative project in which natural perfumers tried to render a viable, sustainable animalic musk through non-animal (musk deer) sources. As we had announced, this was an across the globe project challenging us into coming with terms with different interpretations of what each of us holds as "the standard" of what musk should smell like. Some of them deviated from the path; fledging full compositions which gained independence and "indie-pendance".
What I mean by that: Most of the time, one cannot forget that they're smelling artisanal perfumes produced along a specific set of parameters, although they accomplish some of the aesthetic criteria we've come to expect. But in the arena of musk specifically, there are unexpected twists and turns to be taken and today we're tackling two of them. To cut a long story short, two musky versions which are not particularly...musky. But they have other things to recommend them, should you find yourself interested.

Jane Cate of A Wing and a Prayer Perfumes was inspired for her Tallulah B by classical Hollywood glamour and specifically the bon vivante Tallulah Banckhead who liked to proclaim she was "as pure as the driven slush". With role models like this... Still for Tallulah B the perfumer went for a subtle, botanical vibe which feels like a daguerréotype: the focus is not verisimilitude, but rather an impression of a person or object. The scent feels indeed like a woody floral, a delicate one with the trail of ambrette pods. Much like Connie Porter in Lifeboat (1944) by Alfred Hitchcock, it seems like it laughs in the face of heavy, seductive type musk recalibrating our perception of it, proposing a fragrance that utilizes the note in a roundabout way, underscoring subtly the soft florals (child-like linden blossom, a tincture of muguet...is that really possible? Would it produce a spectre of the little bells?). Cynical like Porter? Not really. More like a different take from someone who admits "I don't usually blend with musk".
Disclaimer & correction: Jane Cate has issued two versions of Tallulah B, recalling the first one (hereby reviewed) in favour of Tallulah B2 which is muskier, meeting the requirements of the project. Since I haven't received the 2nd version yet, I limited myself to the first (sorry for the confusion), but will amend when having sampled the second one. Watch this space!
Wing and Prayer Perfumes appear on the official site and on Etsy.


Verdigris by BellyFlowers Perfumes says it all by its name, a paronomasia uniting "ambergris" and "verdant" but also evoking the patina on copper or bronze metalware, the greenish tinge that the French called "vert-de-Grèce" (Greek green) when referring to the specific colour in painting. Probably inspired by both those references as well as the lush tropical feel of the Florida state where the perfumer Elise Pearlstine is stationed, which would be conductive to not only copper oxidizing into copper acetate but to inhibitions also, Verdigris is presented as "musky and green, rich and sexy".
Green, the scent certainly is, mating green accents of lavender, clary sage and violet absolutes, folded by a heart of powdery soft opoponax absolute. In the base, the muskiness is achieved through the synergy of ambergris tincture and labdanum absolute (the latter is clearly detectable). The opening has the herbal aroma that herbalists would prescribe for a case of rebalancing, while the progression veers into an earthier palette with the deep, hypnotic lappings of labdanum. Compared to sweeter and more body-conscious renditions, we're dealing here with a fragrance that doesn't aim to provide a heavy-lidded, khol-eyed musk and this is quite apparent: Whether it was the intended goal, I leave it to the perfumer, but something tells me that it was.
Belly Flowers Perfumes are accessible here.

Both fragrances have average tenacity, which means they perform pretty well for all-naturals compositions, considering.

Please refer to this list for the other participating sites on the Mystery of Musk project.

Photo of Tallulah Bankhead via Film Noir Photos blog and of verdirgis design of rbanches on black scalloped ring via Miss Fickle Media Com blog.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Sony Wafts Welcoming Scents

The electronics giant we all know, Sony, employs a special blend of smelly essences in its stores diffused through scattered electronic devices in order to welcome women and men projecting feelings of ease and quality. The special blend includes essences of vanilla, mandarin, bourbon and other secret ingredients.

This is what we learn through an article in the ABC News: "Gino Biondi, the chief marketing officer for ScentAir, the company that developed the scent for Sony and makes the diffusers, says the smell of vanilla puts women, typically intimidated by electronics, at ease, while the mandarin denotes class. The bourbon is there for the guys. "It basically enhances the environment for a first great impression," says Biondi, whose company serves everyone from Express clothing to Mandalay Bay Resorts".
But scent in general aids consumerism. A study appearing in the Journal of Consumer Research, affirms that scents improve consumers' memory in relation to products, according to scientists at the University of Michigan and Rutgers University. The co-authors Aradhna Krishna, May Lwin and Maureen Morrin claim that scented products perform better in info memory tests vs. non-scented products. "This occurs even though the product scent is not reintroduced at the time of recall, and even when memory is assessed as much as two weeks after product exposure."

Martin Lindstrom, author of "Buyology: The Truth and Lies about How we Buy" gives some examples of how specific odours act subliminally and how they're used: Vanilla is considered comforting due to its evoking breastfeeding milk, therefore "making you feel childish, young, energetic" while wood reflects a back to nature, earthy, solid, classic set of values. On the other hand fruit is summery, thus making people feel "more open-minded, happy and sexual", while lavender affects the heart beat by slowing it down thus making people linger longer in the stores. Cigars and leather are the perfect choice for banks and law firms, apparently, as these odours reflect "conservative values" (supposedly people in power having the money to afford the smell items, I'd presume, so you feel like you're in the hands of authority and successful monetary churning). Several companies from fashion to cars (and even real estate) work with these guidelines in mind and the trend is only going to expand.

Pic via blog.se-nse.net

Friday, July 2, 2010

Mystery of Musk: DSH Musk Eau Natural (Review & Bottle Giveaway)

Musk Eau Natural by DSH is a wordplay on the Americanized phrase "au natural" (from the French au naturel) and "eau", denoting nudity and intimacy. The feeling was inspired by the Art Deco period, the 1920s and 1930s that is, when musky fragrances entered the vernacular again after almost two centuries in absentia, alongside with a fascination with the Orient and its hedonic mysteries. The perfumer Dawn Spencer Hurwitz intended this fragrance to have a vague chypre feel which is also in keeping with some of the popular styles of perfumes in the Art Deco period (alongside the westernised Orientals of course). The simplicity of the fashions, following the revolutionizing by Jean Patou and Coco Chanel, fitted the structured character of streamlined compositions: vast expanses of -usually ivory- skin, a decided marked contrast with architectural-looking hair (bobbed or not) and select ornamentation getting to the point demanded straightfoward fragrances that weren't limp-wristed or wallpaper-ish.

The fragrance is presented in pure parfum/extrait version (30% concentration of essences) for two reasons: the rich feel of musk dictating a lusher concentration and naturals having a problem of tenacity; the extrait version would help the scent linger. We're hosting a giveaway of a very generous 5ml extrait de parfum of Musk Eau Natural courtesy of DSH Parfums des Beaux Arts. (The photo represents the actual bottle, we're talking about pure parfum here, folks! It should last you months.) So comment away, saying what you find exciting about musk if you want to enter the draw to win it! And to make it a bit more interesting I will pick the entry I find the most interesting!

But back to the fragrance and its creation process, a very intriguing one indeed. Dawn followed the directions of the Guild in regards to which sustainable essences provide a musky note to a T while composing her fragrances. Here is the list of natural sources of musk components, the first three coming from non-cruelty animal sources, the rest of botanical nature:

Ambergris
Beeswax
Hyrax
Goat musk
Ambrette seed
Angelica root
Sandalwood
Labdanum
Vetiver
Spikenard
Oud
Vanilla
Musk rose
Black currant
Jasmine sambac
Patchouli
Cumin
Black pepper
Costus
Seaweed and Carrot seed

Only two of the botanicals ~ambrette seed and angelica root~ contain macrocyclic musk molecules same as the natural deer musk essence, as we have noted before. And from that limited palette Dawn chose to only use beeswax out of the non-cruelty-animal-derived choices. Plus she omitted vetiver, vanilla and patchouli, so as not to overwhelm the botanical bouquet, as these are notes that bring their own potency into a mix. Talk about a true challenge!
Dawn admitted after seeing what others had composed: "My own understanding of the Mystery of Musk project was akin to Iron Chef (how to be creative with a limited palette), now I realize it was more like painting class (make your own interpretation). Oh.OK." And she goes on to explain how her mind ticked while composing: "If you have ever smelled costus root oil, you will notice some things that are very interesting. One, it has a strong but sweet musk-like odor and at the same time, well, a bit of “hefty bags” that comes up. I kind of like it in a perverse way. The same way that I like styrax for it’s sweet honey-spiced-leather-resin smell mixed with “airplane glue”. It’s fun to sense the multiplicity of things and the potential that lies within. Another note that I love is Cassis / Black Currant bud. It smells of pine trees and cats; I am fascinated by its ability to push toward fruity / green and civet at the same time. It’s a wonderful catalyst to activate other notes that might no be so easy to work with, like the carrot seed (which likes to stand out in many designs); seaweed, which can come off as flavorless and cumin, which is certainly musky but smells (especially to the American palate) a bit of ‘sweaty men’ and BO. You have got to be careful with cumin. It has a delicious sweet, musky spice but too much and you can end up with curried armpits."



I am happy to report that Musk Eau Natural doesn't smell of stale body odour at all. The finished scent is pure carnality, the way classic Tabu (minus the carnation) and Yves Saint Laurent legend Kouros (heavy costus root) speak of intimate expanses of hairy skin, moist with the aftermath of a sex-fest. I feel the strong presence of labdanum which gives animalic, lightly leathery nuances alongside a waxy feel. The labdnum note is very apparent on drydown, reminding me of all the sexy and sweeter facets presented in another scent which exploits this side, Madame X by Ava Luxe. Those of you who have tried that one, should definitely give Musk Eau Natural a shot, as you'd most probably love it.
But is it really chypre-like, you ask. The version which I am testing (there is another one, called ESME see below, which is truer to the chypre motif) isn't truly chypre-structured, lacking the familiar perfume-y mossy-powdery chord of classic examples. Still, the beeswax inclusion, the scent of honeycomb, reminds me of the place that modern iconoclastic chypres hold, such as Moss Breches (the name itself alluding to api-culture, via "brèches" in French) by Tom Ford, where the chyprish top starts in a big way and then a very musky note is revealed slowly. Maybe Dawn envisioned a third way of going around the chypre problem, tackling its muskier components. It remains to be seen whether more will follow in this path.
Tenacity of Musk Eau Natural is quite good, certainly very good for an all-naturals, going strong for about 5 hours on my skin, with medium sillage that wouldn't overwhelm.

Dawn Spencer Hurwitz notes for Musk Eau Natural ESME:
Top notes: Black Currant Bud, Black Pepper
Middle notes: Ambrette Seed, Angelica Root, Centifolia Rose Absolute, East Indian Sandalwood, French Beeswax, Labdanum No. 3, Sambac Jasmine, Spikenard
Base notes: Brazilian Vetiver, Costus, Cumin Seed, East Indian Patchouli, musk eau natural accord, Oude (Agarwood), Seaweed, Vanilla Absolute

The musk accord employed in the base uses 15 of the 18 ingredients, including the remaining component, Carrot seed, in the topnotes, a different beeswax (Honey Beeswax) in the heart, and Ambrette Seed exposed in the base.

The notes are presented for ESME, a true chypre variation of Musk Eau Natural
on her website including the notes she omitted for the simpler version, as well as two other editions (one of them the Musk Accord contained in Musk Eau Natural here reviewed; the other Musk of the Mosque, a more orientalised, incense-rich version) which she envisioned during creating for the Mystery of Musk project. A nice musk-rich full wardrobe at the flick of the fingers on the laptop!


Please refer to this list for the other participating sites on the Mystery of Musk project.

Illustration by Pierre Laurens, 1929. Photo of sample by Paul Kiler via Mystery of Musk perfumes.

Eau de Bruce (Willis): Scent of an Action Hero?

The latest celebrity to join the ranks of celeboscents (fragrances produced with the added cachet of bearing the name of a celebrity) is Bruce Willis, inextricably tied to his Die Hard days (pity, does no one recall the masterpiece that is Twelve Monkeys?) The new scent being launched today across Europe captures his "strength, self-assurance and single-mindedness". This translates into a smell that combines cedar, vetiver (an east-Indian grass), pepper, grapefruit, orange and geranium leaves, we're told. The NYMag is rehashing the linked BBC article which follows, precluding that it wouldn't smell that good anyway. To my mind, withholding judgement until sniffing, the really interesting -and potentially problematic- thing is how this would play in a demographic (the one hankering after celeboscents is routinely aged 16-25) which is so far removed from the actor's own age and "golden years of fame" (the 1990s)

In an article appearing on BBC, there is extended commentary on how the industry of celebo-scents works, out of which we have weaned the most memorable quotes:
One in five of women aged between 16 to 24 wears a celebrity scent [in the UK], according to market researcher Mintel. "It's about buying into a lifestyle they aspire to", it says. "Celebrities nowadays are looking for as many way as possible to monetise their fame," says Hamish Pringle, director general of the Institute of Practitioners in Advertising and author of Celebrity Sells. "The attraction of doing a fragrance deal is that toiletries and cosmetics are more amenable to celebrity endorsement than some other less personal products. Plus the perfume houses have got more scents and bottles on their lab shelves than you can shake a stick at and they think putting a celebrity on the label is a really easy way to stand out from the crowd." Roja Dove links this to the celebrity-mania that infests our society, arguing that perfumes have always reflected societal mores. But things are getting a little prosaic too.
"Smell is a really powerful sense and one people really underestimate," says Prof Jacob. "The celebrity perfume market depresses me because it is short-sighted. The fragrances are usually thrown together and sold off the back of a big name. They're simply an excuse for not trying to create something truly original and beautiful."

Last but not least, let's once again break the myth that celebrity scents began with Elizabeth Taylor in the early 90s and Jennifer Lopen in the 00s, as Denise Winterman notes in her otherwise very interesting article. We have established on our own site (click for The Cult of the Celebrity Scent: Perfume History, with photographic proof no less) that that was not so, through numerous examples of celebrity scents from the past expanding their own brand, namely themselves. It's just that the phenomenon has mushroomed beyond all control nowadays...

Pic of Bruce Willis with baby via sofeminine.co.uk

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