I've never heard of Ormonde Jayne perfumery before which,in my book, is a good thing: most of the perfume brands with blanket press coverage are more than likely to spritz you with something that smells just a little like fabric conditioner.
If I don't love most big-name scents, make no mistake I do love perfume. My most recent favourite is probably Tabac Blond by Caron. Designed in 1919 to smell like an androgynous flapper sitting smoking outside a Paris cafe waiting to be photographed by Man Ray, I think I fell as much for the backstory as the scent.
Talking of androgyny, I like Duel and Vetiver - both men's perfumes by Annick Goutal. I was allowed to buy a bottle of each at her Place Saint Sulpice boutique a few years ago but was told, with Parisian rectitude, by the sales assistant that I could not possibly wear her Sables as it was far too masculine.
I've also flirted with Comme des Garcons' nature-identical synthetic perfumes, especially their original Comme des Garcons scent which smells a little like old books, crumbling dried rose-petals and christmas pudding. It was the old books that got me.
My first grown-up perfume was Guerlain's Mitsouko, because I'd just read Angela Carter's Wise Children and presumably wanted to smell like one half of an allegorical, fictional song and dance duo. Old books again.
But even this was predated by my first teenage duty free buy (which I don't really count as an adult decision): YSL Rive Gauche which came in a smart black and cobalt pressurized can, like hairspray and, to be honest in its eau de toilette version, didn't smell entirely dissimilar. Maybe again the name, the dream, was just as important as the scent.
So I'm not, though I'd love to be, one of those women who is loyal to her scent; whose olefactory sillage (what a great untranstlatable French word: much better than 'aura' or 'halo') follows her across a room, smudging Proustian memories into the sheets of her son or her lover. Maybe it's because I'm just not that kind of woman. Or maybe it's because I've never found exactly the right scent.
When Ormonde Jayne offered me the chance to try their Perfume Portraits scent-finder service, I was delighted.
As a warm-up to the experience, they sent me their Discovery Set, a 2ml vial of each of their perfumes in a clever cantilevered box. Predictably, I love Ormonde Man as much as Ormonde Woman but really fell for Orris Noir's musky, champagne-y buzz of fragrance. Are any of these the one for me? I'll be visiting them later this week to find out.
If you'd like an Ormonde Jayne Discovery Set, add your own perfume story in the comments box. Why do you wear (or not wear) scent? Are you inspired by someone who wore it (real or fictional) or something (from a memory to a dream; an everyday experience to an imagined ideal). I'll pick the winner on Valentine's day and let you know what happens when I visit the perfumery later this week...
I wear Chanel No 5 because my mother, who never, ever wore perfume, had a tiny bottle of the true perfume, still in its classic black-and-white box, in the bottom of her dresser drawer. Sometimes, when I'd unstopper the bottle to take a sniff, it seemed to release all the glamour and elegance that my mother's life lacked. Don't get me wrong, Mom has a wonderful life but it lacks glamour. And elegance. To me, Chanel No 5 came to represent an aspirational life. Plus, it's the only perfume that doesn't give me a headache after an hour or two.
Posted by: MarieP | February 09, 2011 at 09:17 PM
I love perfumes and have since I was a little girl. I have always been fascinated with the bottles, which started with Avon. I used to love to get Avon colognes for my dad, so I could keep the bottles. I had cars, firetrucks, and animals. I have been known to buy a perfume just because I loved the bottle.
Posted by: Lisa | February 09, 2011 at 10:55 PM
I am an addict, angel layered over the body lotion does it for me, everybody comments on my perfume and when I walk into my office in the morning I breath deep the stale smell of my own perfume.
A lady commented to me recently that I smell of money, I replied that angel to me smelt of that first puff of cigarette smoke with a glass of red wine. I don't smoke anymore, she Sid that the scent on me was like a rich chocolate shop smell. We both laughed , obviously we are addicts !
back to Oj perfume, I asked my hubby to get the discovery set for Vd , but they didn't accept laser. Card or pay pal:(
SSooo I ordered a credit card today to make sure I get to try these ones out, because they sound incredible. Xx
Posted by: Maura courell | February 09, 2011 at 11:11 PM
I have always had terrible taste in perfume, but I think my nose is finally growing up. When I turned 13 my mom gave me a tiny bottle of L'Air du Temps and I wore it not so much because I liked it but because I was allowed to wear perfume. An aunt gave me an enormous bottle of Chanel no. 5 that a boyfriend gave her, and I wore that until I was 16 and fell in love with a bright, sporty scent called Flirt. I wore it until I was 20, then dabbled in several other scents and have been wearing Prada Tend
re... and stealing different scents from my husband, more musky, more smoky to layer with it (because I'm sick of it). It's time for me to find a sophisticated scent...
Posted by: Amy | February 10, 2011 at 12:44 AM
My childhood ballet teacher wore L'air du Temps and showed me that art, intellect, grace and spirit could all inhabit one frame. And unlike the other women I knew, who saved their perfume for their anniversaries, she wore it like a favorite scarf, every day.
I wear Miss Dior Cherie, which is admittedly a major market scent. But when layered with ginseng lotion, becomes a little dark and a little bright, which exactly suits me; enough to wear every day.
Posted by: Christy | February 10, 2011 at 01:36 AM
"Perfume should be discovered,not announced" he quietly whispered to me as I randomly sampled his counter wares. These few words started me on a personal journey of discovery towards scents that create that unique,visceral,almost drop me to my knees, make me swoon,response. There is nothing like the perfect scent to invoke memories of that cold winter night when you first kissed,the musky smell that lingered to your long gone father's sweater or the sweetness of a teens first dance. I can't think of anything so intimate and personal and at the same time so inviting and all embracing..as that perfect scent.
Posted by: Kathleen Valley | February 10, 2011 at 01:53 AM
These comments are fantastic! Though, to tell the truth, my teenage dances smelt of a scent called ---- Musk (if anyone can supply the missing word, I'd be grateful). It was cheap and yellow, came in a flattish oval bottle with Mattise-like drawings on the label, and was violent but effective.
Posted by: badaude | February 10, 2011 at 09:04 AM
The fad when I was at school was Body Shop perfume oil - mostly White Musk and Dewberry. Every time I passed a Body Shop I'd douse myself in both of them plus a bit of mango - I must have smelled hideous!
Not as bad as the time I walked out of Superdrug drenched in every variant of Charlie by Revlon. As I passed by, one poor bloke was visibly gagging from the assault on his senses - not quite an Impulse moment.
After my first trip to Paris at 13, I got all 'sophisticated' and bought Loulou by Cacherel. I didn't even like the smell but it had a really 'arty' French advert where a disembodied man's voice searches for "Loulou?" while the camera follows this French waif who eventually looks up and says "Oui? C'est moi". I was a sucker for a pretentious backstory!
Recently I bought Arpege which does have a lovely backstory about Jeanne Lanvin and her daughter. The classic art deco bottle has a drawing of a mother embracing her daughter so it resonates with me when my little girl watches in complete fascination as I get ready to go out. The bonus is that this time I really love the scent as well - full-bodied, ripe and spicy.
Posted by: Divya | February 10, 2011 at 10:38 AM
I'm so old that my fragrance story would make a book. I've always loved perfume. My mother used to wear Lanvin's Arpege...sorry can't do accents...and it's true that I still can't smell that without being reminded of her...a mixed blessing, but that's another book!
I first remember being impressed byh Schiaparelli's Shocking in that divine pink box. Then the stuff we wore at school, illicitly, like Coty's L'aimant and Dana's Tabou...a hideous smell that, and why someone of 14 or so thought it was suitable, I have no idea. Later, it was things like Ma Griffe by Carven which my boyfriend said made me smell like Harrod's Perfumery Dept (a good thing, apparently!) Then Quelque Fleurs by Houbigant, Bois des Iles by Chanel, L'air du temps for ages and ages and on and on it went...then my elder daughter became a perfume fiend so I tried a lot of hers too, though our tastes are very different. Tried Shalimar but was told by my husband that it was like insect spray so that was the end of that!
Now, in my late sixties I have three favourites which I wear as the mood takes me. Angel by Thierry Mugler, Pomegranate Noir by Jo Malone and Boudoir by Vivienne Westwood. And always, always ready to try something new. Cannot resist the perfume counters and my best bedside dipping-into reading is the wonderful Perfume: the guide by Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez.
Posted by: adele geras | February 10, 2011 at 11:33 AM
Mine wasn't the Body Shop White Musk - far too sweet for me, though I did experiment (ill-advisedly) with their Patchouli oil.
I hate Shalimar too - although it was what Carter's Nora wore (to Dora's Mitsouko) or was it the other way around?
Posted by: badaude | February 10, 2011 at 12:21 PM
Scent - my mother's lipstick when we moved when I was 5. I started kindegarten half way through the year and was so terrified of being the new kid and left out, I'd steal my mother's bright red lipstick and hold it close to my nose all day long. It calmed me, that deep luscious scent -- I was in my mother's arms. Unfortuantely the teacher found out after a week and took the lipstick away and put a paper bag over my hands.
I never told anyone.
If only a parfumer could find a way to put the scent of 1955 red lipstick into a perfume. I'd be at peace the rest of my days.
I still adore my mom!
Posted by: Dion Parker | February 10, 2011 at 02:41 PM
Sisely eau du soirée is another mind bender of a perfume, I smelt it off a lady in her 50's and had to buy it.. I am 35 and I think it smells incredible on any age...sexy additive ..try laying with molecule 1.. I swear it's an aphrodisiac !
Posted by: Maura courell | February 11, 2011 at 12:26 AM
I love that you wanted to smell your mothers lipstick Dion.
I just did a search and evidently there are alot of scents that may float your boat.. Hope outside links are ok.
http://www.basenotes.net/threads/262420-Scents-that-smell-like-old-fashioned-makeup-lipstick
http://www.basenotes.net/threads/247510-What-makes-Dior-Homme-smell-like-lipstick
Posted by: Kathleen Valley | February 11, 2011 at 02:20 AM
One of my favorite scents is Luctor from The People of Labyrinths because it reminds me of Play-doh ;)
Posted by: Kathleen Valley | February 11, 2011 at 02:28 AM
I love playdoh too - who doesn't? Maybe it's not just the vanilla scent (it smells like something you should eat - but it's forbidden - how exciting!), it's the feel: the inside-outside-y polymorphously perverse early experience of playing with it.
Posted by: badaude | February 11, 2011 at 11:14 AM
What a compliment it would be to be called polymorphously perverse!My god, it just slips right off the tongue!! It's a line I just have to remember.
As for the playdoh...I think I actually did eat it...or, now that I think about it, I probably shoved it up my nose as well as my brothers.;)
Also...please take me out of your contest. I was being a little piggy as I already have the Discovery Set along with a big bottle of Woman. Yum yum. Let others have the joy of discovery.
Loving the stories here, and enjoying your blog!
Thanks!
Posted by: Kathleen Valley | February 12, 2011 at 05:46 AM
I have worn Coco by Chanel since it came out perhaps it is morbid, but when I am gone I hope that my children will remember me when they cross the path of someone wearing it and think of me.Smells always bring back childhood memories.
Posted by: annie vanderven | February 12, 2011 at 07:00 PM
Truth is, I don't wear perfume - I just never feel it's really necessary, and I always find other products I'd rather spend my money on. I mean, there's perfume in my soap, in my deodorant, (basically everywhere), why would I use some extra perfume? Well, at least that's what my head tells me, but I still find myself sniffing on Hermes' Kelly Caleche all the time or admiring Comme des Garcons' beautiful flakons, so I guess a big part of me wants to be a perfume lady..
Posted by: Hannah | February 14, 2011 at 10:05 AM
I agree - but then I try to use scentless soap etc and then spray myself with something I've actually chosen to smell like.
Kathleen I'm so sorry you've stepped down voluntarily. I was enjoying your musings on Playdoh so much!
Posted by: badaude | February 14, 2011 at 10:12 AM
Thank you for those links! To think you could capture the peace and love of my mother's lipstick in a bottle. Fantastic!
Dion
Posted by: Dion Parker | February 14, 2011 at 04:01 PM
As a man, I find I'm more in intoxicated by perfumes than the women I relunctantly give them to.
At least with the wife I can enjoy deep draughts of Shalimar off the dressing table whenever I want to.
Once in a rather desparate period of my life, I kept a glove belonging to a woman I was infatuated with ,which was saturated with Shalimar.The fact that she over-dosed on perfume recklessly was highly attractive.I found this scent deeply sensual ,a bit rough and with undertones of creosote which I connected with climbing over fences in Chimes at Midnight escapades.
But the lady concerned was not really able to live up to these high/low standards.Where I started admiring the perfume because it reminded me of her, I began admiring her because she used the perfume.Then more and more distantly. Finally I just admired the Shalimar as a solitary vice.
Quite happy with that, tell you the truth.
Posted by: DBC Reed | February 15, 2011 at 01:22 AM
Interesting to know you can eventually bypass the woman and go straight to the perfume. I guess that's the problem with any big name scent: do we own it or does it own us?
Posted by: badaude | February 15, 2011 at 09:01 AM
Ahh, I just stepped down from the contest..not these wonderful stories.
My musings do not stop at playdoh..;)
A few years back I received a body lotion sample...liked it at the time but not so much that I would order it, so I tossed the empty package away. Months later I came across a real life smell that reminded me of it..ok, I'll say it, cat pee!!! So my search began. I couldn't recall where I had even gotten the sample so I started calling all my companies, yes, asking for a perfume that may or may not smell like cat pee. And yes, I got alot of giggles. After about 15 samples..tada...the scent was Diptyque's Philosykos and of course I ordered the biggest bottle they make. Ok, it really doesn't smell like cat pee, but I do have to give consideration that my friends cat may actually have pee that smells like Philosykos ! It's now one of my top ten favorites ;)
Posted by: Kathleen | February 16, 2011 at 06:10 AM
Maybe you could try feeding the cats figs...
But, Kathleen, you sent me a book! That's way too kind and, in the context of the Valentine's giveaway, sort of the wrong way round. Would you like one of my Shakespeare and Company posters from last year's literary festival? I still have a few left and you an see them here http://badaude.typepad.com/my_weblog/2010/10/giveaway-the-big-idea.html
Posted by: badaude | February 16, 2011 at 09:08 AM