Though I may have gotten around to it at some point, it hadn’t really occurred to me to write about scents/fragrances, but a short article in the May 2020 issue of Vogue struck a chord with me—“A Scent of One’s Own…what happens when your signature eau goes mainstream.” Just as I’ve always loved beautiful clothes, I’ve loved beautiful personal fragrances and scented soaps. I have a very good olfactory memory. Often, if I smell something I like—in a magazine ad, in a store, or on someone—I’ll remember it. Sometimes I’ll guess someone’s perfume or aftershave, and frequently I’ll be right, much to the person’s (and often my) surprise. I can still “smell” Old Spice (which I never wore) from my childhood days, along with Jade East (which I’ll admit I did use for awhile—didn’t almost every pre-pubescent male?).
I love nice soaps. There are two soap fragrances that remind me of travel during my Wall Street days. In Europe, Jean Patou at Relais & Chateaux properties, and simple, Neutrogena glycerin bars at some of the better hotels in the U.S. Probably my favorite at-home fragrance (no longer produced) was watermint from Caswell-Massey. If you’ve never used any, I’d certainly recommend some exploration of good, triple-milled soaps. They’re expensive but they last a long, long time, and the scents are so much more refined and interesting than run-of-the-mill, burn-your-nose supermarket stuff. One of my favorite brands is Pre de Provence. Another is Caswell-Massey (“the oldest apothecary in America”), though there’s obviously many, many more out there. I have yet to spring for a soap made in the same scent as my favorite cologne. Thirty dollars for a bar of soap is a bit too steep for me.
As I’ve done with clothes, I’ve gone through fragrance phases. I became somewhat of a “collector” of fragrances during the Wall Street period of my life. I had over twenty different scents. Mostly from Caswell-Massey in New York, which still makes what it claims was the fragrance George Washington used. What I’d wear on any given day would be a function of both the season and my mood. I didn’t have a “signature scent,” as many people do, and as I do now.
During my Wall Street days I was travelling to Europe occasionally. I had read about a new fragrance from Christian Dior called Fahrenheit, which was available only in Europe. On one of my trips I sought it out. I liked it, and bought it. It was fun being able to wear something I really liked, which was pretty much unavailable.
The short piece in Vogue was written by a woman whose “signature scent” was a Scandinavian brand, not yet available in the States. She picked up a few bottles in Paris. Eventually it became available at Barney’s, became a best seller, and she stopped wearing it. She didn’t stop liking the scent. What changed was how she felt when she wore it. Quoting someone in the business, the writer said “Perfume is about more than smell; it’s about what you think a smell says about you…it’s about snobbery. Sin nobile: If you own what’s cool, that’s power.” She went on to say “When the fragrance that was empowering you gets decried as ‘basic’ in a video, the jig is up. For a while, I was wearing Fahrenheit pretty much solo. Now, you can find it next to Jade East and Allspice. It still smells nice, but who wants to be wearing it, standing in line next to someone in the grocery store who’s also wearing it? I get the writer’s point.
These days, I’ve settled on two fragrances. I’ve always liked to keep things seasonal. I now have one for spring/summer and one for fall/winter. The former being on the light/citrusy side, with sharpish top notes, the latter being deeper, almost brooding, with spicy and woodsy notes. The summer scent more or less coincides with the lighter, less complicated, less fussy wardrobes of the warmer months. The winter scent, with the more substantial layered wardrobes of the season. As I prefer colder-weather dress, so I prefer my winter scent. It’s complex and fascinating. Like a great wine; it’s built in layers, which seem to unfold throughout the day. It’s Hermes’s Terre d’Hermes. My summer fragrance is Hermes Eau Tres Fraiche. I believe I’ve read online reviews of the Terre d’Hermes that slight it for ‘not lasting long,’ But therein lies its beauty, in my opinion. Yes, its strength fades relatively quickly, but it’s by no means gone! It’s subtle. And it draws people, whereas many fragrances people wear repel me. It’s a real cheating way to get hugs from people, but there are folks I know that every time they see me, they want to hug me just for the scent. I can think of worse things!