Serendipitous Perfume

A few weekends ago I was tasked with training my fellow Lush staff in Belfast regarding all things perfume. I try not to think of myself as an expert, however I do know a thing or two and what I love doing most of all is inspiring those around me about perfume. I really do believe there’s an infinite number of stories to be told about fragrance, from the perfumer to the personal, there’s a huge discourse already out there.

I relied a little on an event that inspired me to no end this summer in order to get this job done, and that was when Odettte Toilette visited Dublin. That evening I was left with an enlightenment of sorts. I never thought my imagination could be sparked, fired and soothed simply by smelling fragrance. I’ve always been intrigued by memory and smell, but that evening I was turning a corner into the present and appreciating the hear and now of perfume. How does it make me feel? Where am I imagining myself right now?

And so, I wanted to transfer some of that evening to my other Lushies. There was of course business things which I won’t share too much of here, but I hope below sheds some light on how serendipitous the mind can be when it comes to perfume.

Consequences

When Odette Toilette (Lizzie) came to Dublin, she had her attendees play the game of Consequences. It goes like this, one person (me) writes down a set of questions on a sheet of paper. Players each answer one question and fold over their answer so the next player can’t see the previous. At the end it reads a collaborative story where every player has had a say. What this usually means is, there are similarities, surprises and common themes to be found. The perfume twist is that everyone in a group, usually four or five, are each smelling the same perfume whilst answering their questions, and as such, it reveals certain things about that person and the group, based on their answer/s.

Below is group one and two’s answers when smelling Breath of God by Gorilla Perfume. Each answer from each question is from a different person which explains why things don’t match up. However it makes for an interesting read.

Who is this man wearing the fragrance?

1. This man is my grandfather. Sitting down on his favourite armchair next to the fire. Smoking his pipe while he flips through the Sunday newspaper.
2. Not a man, my grandmother. Smells like her bedside-table drawer—medicinal and cough sweets and hand-cream. Smells like her getting ready for bed.

Describe what his home is like.

1. Retro, lots of browns and oranges, leather sofa, clean, no clutter.
2. A ski lodge. Fireplace. Mulled wine. Winter all year round. Christmas tree. Warm.

What does he do for a living/what is his job?

1. Academic. Lecturer (English?) at a university.
2. Something “outdoorsy”—lumberjack!

What are his hobbies/what does he like doing in his spare time?

1. Skateboarding and surfing/wakeboarding in the summer. Playing frisbee in the park.
2. Mountain biking, taming dinosaurs etc.

When is he most happiest?

1. Sports—skiing/snowboarding, being outdoors/active.
2. When she is at the kitchen baking cakes for friends or making dinner for family. Caring for people through food.

What is his philosophy to life?

1. Live day by day, work for what you want or you won’t get, but remember to do unto others as you would like done to you :)
2. Go after your goals. Does his own thing. Makes his own rules.

When I read out the answers to everyone, we were all shocked to hear that the two groups matched grandparents to Breath of God and that he/she liked being outdoors, active and enjoying nature. Is this your grandfather/mother? Could you sell this perfume to a person perhaps wishing to buy their grandparent a gift?

Here’s the second set of Consequences.

Who is this man wearing the fragrance?

1. A young girl actually, in her teens struggling with her identity. Not sure of what she likes or what she wants to smell like during the day…?
2. French chef/owner of deli. Fun, jokey, bouncy, enthusiastic, heart and soul.

Describe what his home is like.

1. In the middle of nowhere in a forest or on top of some cliffs or both. Windy, wood fire, warm with a fresh breeze, white linens on the bed.
2. A tent or a teepee, orange or light in colour so when the sun shines on the tent in the morning it is warm and bright.

What does he do for a living?

1. Something that allows him to have a massive big beard.
2. Doctor/Vet

What are his hobbies/what does he like doing in his spare time?

1. Playing the banjo, building model ships and cooking stew.
2. Tent-building, fig gathering, scimitar-sharpening. There are not that many hobbies in the desert.

When is he most happiest?

1. Travelling/trekking, sleeping in tents etc.
2. Having a drink and dancing to a ska/reggae band.

What is his philosophy to life?

1. Live life in the moment, be spontaneous.
2. Take each day as it comes. Live life to the fullest.

It was so revealing to discover that collectively, The Smell of Freedom by Gorilla Perfume was making several people think of tents. It is such a specific association to make and I can confirm that no one was sharing answers or whispering! In some ways it’s not surprising that people think of the outdoors. Perfume is plucked from nature, and so I think most people associate something in a fragrance back to nature.

It’s fun to create a fragrance character profile this way. Perhaps this man is indeed a vet? Maybe he lives in the outback of Australia, in the desert, in an orange tent with a big beard cooking stew for supper. He plays the banjo when the sun goes down and is spontaneous with his improvisation. His outlook on life is to take each day as it comes and live life to the fullest.

I couldn’t agree more myself.

When Gorilla Perfume Got Personal

One of my biggest olfactory milestones was joining Lush as a temporary Christmas Sales Assistant in 2007. I worked up, got permanent and passionate about cosmetics and perfume, then sadly had to wave farewell last year and give web design a serious go. I still to this day miss my Lush days.

So, maybe you’ve heard of Lush before, you know, “that smelly soap shop.” Smelly in the best possible sense mind you. When Lush launched Gorilla Perfume into the shops up and down the UK & Ireland, more fragrant wonders were added to a brimming array of tasty delights. These fragrant wonders weren’t a familiar bar of soap, or straightforward moisturiser, this was perfume. Perfume that had a point. And perfume that got personal.

Henry Street’s Gorilla Perfume Party

I was kindly invited along to Henry Street’s Gorilla Perfume Party to experience and try out all of the Gorilla Perfume range. On the day, Dublin was enjoying some cracking weather. The sun was shinning hard, not a cloud in the sky. As I made my way into town however, the sky was changing, the smell of rain was coming—you could say, the weather was turning. I was excited to no end. The smell of baked tarmac was giving off that familiar urban summer odour, and the sprinkling of rain was dashed from a hot bus that flew by.

On the evening, there were the current shop offerings from the likes of Karma, Vanillary and Breath of God to the affectionately named B-Sides such as Dear John, Superworldunknown and Cocktail. There’s the early year perfumes of Icon and Ginger. Not to forget about the exclusive Gorilla Perfume offerings of The Smell of Weather Turning, the fractured components of The Smell of Freedom: Old Delhi Station, Fire Tree and Oudh Heart. And duo parts of Breath of God: Inhale and Exhale.

There was a lot on offer as well as cupcakes, rooibos tea, chocolate delights, arm and hand massage and personal consultations. I opted for the tea and consultation. I wanted to be sold perfume and so, stepped out of current perfume and previous Lush shoes, and stepped into Joe Consumer shoes.

Personal perfume

I asked for some help and Emmet, the Gorilla Perfume Top Banana (knowledgeable Sales Assistant), asked me how I was keeping.

He sat me down, face to face, and told me we were going to play a smell game. There’d be a set of questions and I was to take my time, think about what the question was and choose the answers that come to mind naturally, without force and without dwelling on it.

Question 1. If you could pick only two smells in the world, because the rest would be taken away from you, what would they be?

I love food so much, I opted for fresh coffee and garlic.

Question 2. If you had your own perfume, how would you want it to smell? Forget about ingredients and notes, rather, imagine what you want it to say.

This one was tricky, I’ve often thought about my own perfume from time to time. I said, like me, or the person I want to be. I want it to smell self-assured, confident and grounded. Someone who is happy and with ambition and determination.

Question 3. What name would you give this perfume?

Too hard! I actually couldn’t think of one on the evening. However writing this up, I’d say “Deep Down Smile.”

Emmet paused for a bit, went off to the glasses of perfume, and brought back three for me. “Now, you can close your eyes or keep them opened—” I closed them, “and imagine some alpine mountain. Really high up, there’s a log cabin, it’s only you, and you step in through the door and shake the snow off your clothes and dust some out of your beard.” I smiled. “You sit down, and a hunky barista hands you a cup of warm, smooth coffee. Now smell this.” He places the glass under my nose and I inhale. It’s smooth, sweet and really slightly coffee-like. I smile again and feel content and happy.

I open my eyes again and Emmet is smiling too. He’s a guy who really enjoys this process. He tells me at this point, this is when we name (what was Dear John) the perfume I stated in my earlier response. So for me, Dear John becomes Deep Down Smile.

Other personal perfume profiles

He goes on to tell me about a lady who came in one day and was looking for a perfume too. He walked her through the same process. She tells him how her life isn’t exactly where she wanted it to be at the moment. Her job is hard, her boss isn’t pleasant. Boyfriend, friends the lot! Through the same methods, she really took to Karma. He tells her the sun oils of orange and lemongrass should make her imagine positivity and encouragement. I can’t recall what she named Karma for herself, but she came back a month later and informed Emmet of a new job, a happy social circle, a better life.

This really impressed me, and it was Emmet’s idea, to transform perfume on people. To make it them. They’re not wearing Lust any more, they’re wearing Skin Hungry because one lady wanted to feel heat, passion, scratch marks and…

Karma transforms one wearers outlook. She’s not wearing Karma anymore, it’s something much more personal, it becomes her personal odour. The idea is great. Because we know the perfume isn’t doing anything at all, but it’s allowing us to alter our mood and feelings into something else we wish we could feel. The perfume ultimately becomes whatever the wearer wants it to be and so, they change their state of being in a way.

Dear John isn’t Dear John any more when I wear it, it’s Deep Down Smile. I hope to wear it now with an attitude that is more confident, more happy, more warm and more smiley. And if that hunky barista chooses to make himself known I’ll be ordering a box of Dear John at some point.

Oh and a bottle of The Smell of Weather Turning was also purchased because the weather in Dublin that day couldn’t have turned more quickly or more differently if it tried.

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What do you think?

Do you believe perfume can change your life? Would the smell of something positive make you more positive? Would Skin Hungry be a literal aphrodisiac?

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Smelling Emotional Responses

The following is an obvious statement: smell is linked to emotion. For a long time I’ve been in awe about smell and memory, but often overlooked how smell makes me feel. It’s a hard reaction to listen to, especially for me, who’s usually sensitive by nature.

Those close to me (and unfortunately for them sometimes) know I am a sensitive person. I take things seriously, to heart. Sometimes, I don’t know when to let go. My fault is my blessing. I admit my faults and I’m happy with who I am. Why is it then, by my very nature, sometimes when I smell something, I can’t quite feel a certain way about it? Let alone figure out a reason why I did in the first place.

Robot response

My usual behaviour when I smell something is to figure it out, “What is that?” “Where is it coming from?” “Smells sour.” “Smells… like meat.” “Is that lamb?” “Why is it from the dishwasher?” “Someone have a kebab for lunch?” “Nah, rogan josh.” “Christ, it’s really pungent, piercing, tart.” “Is it the water? Dull dishwasher water.”

I think about it and think about it and think about it. Meh.

If I can’t figure it out, I’m not necessarily outright about it either. Smell is so internal for everyone and nine times out of ten, you don’t share every single smell experience. But sometimes I like to, especially if it’s english tea, turf, fat, roobios tea or candles.

With odours, my reactions are inquisitive and memory inducing. I’m not a heartless robot either, but my feeling toward a smell sometimes isn’t present.

Not necessarily true

When I smelled Arpège by Lanvin for the first time I was overwhelmed. My reaction was of goosebumps, the hairs on my neck standing up and the feeling of my mum’s presence. She never owned a single bottle of Arpège, but my reaction was longing and tearful.

The contrast between short, sharp command-like internal questions of a lamby dishwasher and the knock-me-to-the-floor reaction of Arpège, couldn’t be further apart.

When I think of smell and memory, the facts didn’t add up. My mum never owned a bottle of Arpège. Yet my feelings bubbled to the surface. How can something that never happened move me so?

Maybe, a material in the perfume, an ingredient, was shared between Arpège and something my mum would have worn over the years. Maybe I was thinking of her that day in the back of my mind.

Maybe I was experiencing a heightened response this time. Perhaps I feel at least something towards every smell I come by, and there’s a sliding scale in place for each response. In any case I’m not sure I’ll figure it out any time soon.

So should I have an emotional response to that dishwasher? Should I well up over the smell of the tiniest thing? Probably not. I would deserve a slap in the face otherwise!

I adore this about smell. There’s days you can go idly by. Sniffing here, sneezing there. You could be in your garden, kicking back just relaxing and enjoying the easy breeze. You could be in the opening of a new restaurant and the smells of everything whizzing past you tantalise your belly. There’s that briny day at the beach. Or there’s that one day, when you didn’t expect it, an arbitrary weeknight. BAM. That emotion, the feeling you have. Loose yourself in it. Stay put, feel it. Let yourself enjoy the smell if it is wondrous and happy. And if it makes you feel glum, feel glum.

Tomorrow you’ll step in dog shit and smell it for weeks.

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What do you think?

Smell has probably reminded you of somewhere, some place or a person. What has it made you feel? Has something made you elated? Overjoyed? Wistful?

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[Update] I’d like to share with you a post from Christopher Kowalewski. He too has a very similar emotional response and affinity to Arpège and his grandmother.