Perfume Identity

One of my best and oldest friends here -let’s call him T., has a long distance relationship with a beautiful, smart and funny girl from another country. Even though I know this friend for many, many years and he knows very well my passion for perfume, we hardly ever talk about it together. As a matter of fact, I’d never even asked him what perfume he is wearing, which is not very strange considering this is the sort of hobby that bores or bemuses many of my male friends. Most of the time, I just don’t bring it up, unless prompted. T. is a sharp dresser with a great sense of style, is always well groomed and has always smelled nice, warm and clean. His scent of choice (something by D&G as it turned out) was innocuous and pleasant, sexy but not in the least attention grabbing, so much so in fact, that I never even consciously realized that he’s been faithful to the same perfume for years. This week, S., the girlfriend from abroad came to stay for a few weeks and all of us having missed her, we decided to do something together this Saturday. A short round of hugs and kisses all around in front of the bar and there’s me, turning to T. trying hard to inject a cheerful, curious note in my voice that would hopefully mask the disappointment: “You’ve changed your perfume!”. Laughter on his side, and a sharpish look from S. “Uh, hah, yes, I did, how did you know?” I ignore this: of course I know, I mean, really. S. turns to me. “I can’t get used to it.” She says, and I can’t tell if she’s disappointed or just making a statement. Politely I change the subject and we go inside for drinks. Sitting down however, the subject comes up again unexpectedly half an hour later. They are both excited, smiling, completing each other’s sentences as lovers tend to do, while they describe meeting at the airport again after such a long time. “We speak every day, but it’s still strange to meet face to face after not having seen each other for two months! Then we spend an hour together and it’s as though we’ve never been apart.” Then suddenly S. becomes more animated, raising her voice slightly: “Yes, but he came there and I hugged him and he smelled different. I was like…. IS THIS MY BOYFRIEND???” and once more: “I can’t get used to it…”

This little snippet of the evening has remained vivid in my memory and has been popping in and out of my mind, raising the same questions every time. What does our perfume of choice mean to our loved ones? And what about those of us who change our perfume daily? Are we missing out on a secret signal, a secret form of recognition, a bond which we would otherwise enjoy? It is easier for me to accept that S. would be perturbed by T.’s change, for when living so far away from each other, every bit of familiarity becomes magnified in importance and of course, there’s no question that the sense of smell would play a leading role in that sense of familiarity. The change can be rather devastating, for in truth, the scent of a lover is something we take with us, like a memento, signifying some unspoken truth that will light up like a magic compass upon the next meeting of the bodies. Sometimes, it is the only important (or even meaningful) thing you can take with you when parting. But what about my reaction then? How disturbing and inexplicable that I would react with disappointment to the change. After all, I see T. every week without fail. And what is the message that friends subconsciously receive about those of us who change our perfume constantly? Perhaps we’re better off, never actually giving our friends the chance to associate us so deeply with a scent that it’d create dissonance the moment we decided to change it.

Have you ever had a signature scent? And if so, did you experience similar reactions from your friends when you made a change? As for me, I have in fact gone through stages of using a particular perfume almost exclusively or with such noticeable frequency that it becomes associated with me in the past. I’ve never really had a strange reaction from friends or loved ones, however, my boyfriend does always comment when I wear the perfume I used to wear when we first started dating. He gets this blissful look in his eyes and always exclaims I smell great. It makes me grin every time, because he never actually makes the connection fully enough to mention it by name.

Images: Flickr by bri v and Stefano Mortellaro