To me, a perfume is not always sexy. It depends on the way people wear it and why they wear a particular perfume at that particular moment. Perhaps they want to seduce, maybe they want to feel comfortable or to reinvent themselves. With my creations, I am telling stories but the person who is perfumed with my fragrance can recreate their own story.
— Gérald Ghislain of Histoires de Parfums, quoted in Say it with Scent at Khaleej Times Online.
I never read a word by the Marquis de Sade, the subject of yesterday’s post, but French writer Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette is one of my favorite authors. I started, just as she did, with the Claudines, and eventually I worked my way through most everything else, and then I followed that up with a few biographies. That was many years ago now, and although I’ve re-read most of her books since then, some more than once, it’s been awhile. Last night I took out My Mother’s House and Sido, and skimmed through the sections where she writes about her mother’s garden, and I glanced quickly through The Vagabond and Chéri to remind myself why I so loved them.
Colette’s life, like her writing, was turbulent, passionate, and above all, unconventional. I know there was, at some point, a Claudine perfume — wouldn’t it be fun to smell that now? — but I have no idea what perfume Colette wore herself. If I had to assign her a perfume, it would surely be a heady floral — Piguet Fracas is perhaps too obvious, but it fits. If you’ll pardon the anachronism, Etat Libre d’Orange Jasmin et Cigarette would also work, although you’d have to amp it up: more (indolic) jasmine, more smoke, and maybe a hint of leather or some other animalic note in the base.
Histoires de Parfums has done something entirely different…
Once upon a time, I wanted to be an ‘intellectual.’ I imagined myself with a Franz Liszt haircut, clothed in jeans, ankle boots, turtlenecks and tight sports jackets. Apart from my intellectual appearance, I knew I’d need at least one doctoral degree, and I realized I’d have to digest every “worthy” book written. So, one summer, I decided to read the complete works of the Marquis de Sade. I started my project by reading two biographies of the marquis, and then I turned my attention to many critical essays and assessments of his writings.
After reading Sade’s critics and biographers, I was expecting to be shocked, astounded, thrilled and “enlightened” by his literary output. Instead, Sade’s stories of torture, his endless diatribes against religion, his sexual fantasies involving pain, incest, degradation, humiliation and murder numbed me. Reading the Marquis de Sade’s dully written, repetitive tales made me sleepy and after awhile I began to laugh heartily at the absurdity of him and what he “preached.” His philosophy didn’t appeal to (or interest) me. I was definitely not Sade’s audience (and, I thought, perhaps not “intellectual material” after all).
The Marquis de Sade spent almost 30 years of his life in one prison or another…
I take advantage of the cold-weather months and pour on amber-rich, resinous, incense-y, musky, and powdery perfumes (known as “gasp-inducers” in hot weather) but I also use perfumes to help me forget winter woes — my flowerless garden, chill-induced headaches, spark-filled hair, and dry-as-bone skin (citrus and florals…come hither). My top-ten list of winter fragrances is, of course, personal, and far from definitive; these are simply perfumes I’m enjoying this winter.
I usually wear “sharp”/herbal amber fragrances such as Serge Lutens Ambre Sultan and Tom Ford Amber Absolute, but it’s nice to have a classic amber scent handy as well. Enter Histoires de Parfums Ambre 114 (with notes of patchouli, cedar, sandalwood, tonka bean, vanilla, benzoin, and musk). Like many amber perfumes of its type, Ambre 114’s soft and sweet aromas transport me to a particular “scene” (a snowy twilight landscape viewed from inside a warm, dim room) and state of mind (contented…but nostalgic too). I suppose that means amber scents make me feel safe and comfortable and, perhaps, remind me of someone time has erased from my life.
Aesop Mystra is bold — and a bit severe…
Histoires de Parfums has launched 1889 Moulin Rouge, a new perfume named for the opening year of the Moulin Rouge in Paris, and one of a number of items introduced in France last year to celebrate the cabaret’s 120th anniversary…
