perfumer's hand

The other day I was e-mailing with someone nice from the US, discussing on the side l’homme de coeur by Divine, a perfume house located in France. In my mail that flew off, ping-pong style from server to server over the Atlantic as fast as light, I mentioned that I like it but that I find it too modest somehow, too shy. Well, I would like to reconsider here. I had the sample on my desk and while preparing almost hundreds of PowerPoint slights yesterday, a wave of something nice approached my nose. In search for the olfactory source I discovered the little sample bottle again beneath piles of paper. But this time I did not put it onto paper strips but rather allowed it to find its destiny on my skin. It was nice, dry iris, still shy, a present overture remembering me of Mastix, lasting and comforting woods; a feels good scent. It is perfect for an office day with difficult meetings, where from time to time you want to retreat to the peaceful world of yourself.

Clearly this fragrance is not supposed to be tested on paper, as it will not develop adequately. Well, I guess this is somewhat true for any perfume, but some scents are explicitly not made to be tested on paper. One example that I know by practice: Benzyl-salicylate is easily very dominant on paper and may cover, even in small amounts within a composition, the overall impression. Somehow it sticks to the paper and its share in a creation is aggravated.

And then, there are compounds that develop quite unpredictable on individual skin, too; like cumin which sometimes amazes me how it is transformed by the skin of an individual. Bottom line: By working on paper and on his/her skin a perfumer does not know how a creation is going to develop on a stranger’s skin. We are clueless, sort of. Troubling, isn’t it? Thus, you want to experience what the perfumer really sensed when he created a particular perfume? You have to ask for the perfumer’s hand….