Ghost Scents

You wouldn’t guess it from the interior, with its pretty fountain, the enormous, suspended mosaic of two gigantic eyes following you everywhere in the main hall, the artwork in the hallways, the throngs of students happily chattering away between classes but… Many, many years ago, the Psychology building of my University used to be a Hospital. Nowadays, the building has acquired the familiar smell of Academic buildings everywhere, without a doubt, a special smell itself: The smell of students, library books, computers and a faint whiff of food and coffee from the cafeteria. It is a smell as instantly recognizable as that of high schools, as anyone who has visited their old high school for a reunion and has been hit in the face by a smell that is truly a blast from the past can attest. But there are times when one really comes to realize that this building’s current scent is actually the intruder, a smell that is trying hard to banish the previous occupant. The previous occupant sometimes strikes back, desperate, aggravated; running down the stairs to catch a class students are sometimes – in fact rarely enough so that it always remains a huge surprise- assaulted by the Ghost Scent: The smell of the Hospital. Where does it come from? How does it resurface? How does it manage to remain hidden the rest of the time? Why does it make our heart skip a beat when we smell it? I am not surprised we react to the smell with aversion and dread – we are, after all, socialized from an early age to fear hospitals, and their smell is a strong reminder of all the negative associations related to them. I am however surprised at the tenacity of the scent, seemingly becoming an entity that lives on and on, long after one would expect it to.

Ghost Scents are not always unpleasant however. Have you ever worn a loved one’s clothes and found yourself living with their smell all day long? I have a friend with whom I exchange clothes. She lives in Greece and I live in the Netherlands… We send each other packets of things that do not quite work in our wardrobes any longer. When her packets arrive, I open them to find myself surrounded by her presence. What’s most surprising is that even after several wears and subsequent washes, her clothes retain her own unique smell - the fibers completely drenched in her essence as it were. When finally the harsh detergents manage to strip away every last bit of her slightly vanilla scented skin, I always feel distinctly disappointed…

From clothes, to cars and houses, the smell of ownership is present, slightly different each time, mingling with the scent of fibers and materials. None are as distinctive and as potent as the smells created by diverse, unrelated individuals sharing a common goal. The smell of the gym, the same in every country you visit, decade after decade: Muscle and sweat, enough to make your adrenaline levels rise and your heart to start pumping the moment you walk in. Even more evocative, the smell of dance. A recent visit to the Ballet Academy to sign up for a class made me feel like I was about to faint from wistfulness the moment I walked in, recently. It smelled of learning, almost like elementary school and high school combined, and its familiar scent was mingled with that of sweat. Not the sweat of a single person, but that of many. It smelled of collective effort and art, of broken toes, blissful misery and hope. There is no way this smell could ever be eradicated, even if the Academy became something else. Like the smell of the Hospital, the ghosts of a thousand dancers’ smell would come back to haunt this place, claim it as their own.

Some ghosts are living, living through the ages. When I travel back to Thessaloniki Greece, I am always greeted by the scent of this ancient city the moment I step out of the airport. Air that’s slightly thicker than I’m used to over here, humid and salty, smelling of the sea and the people, the vague smell of herbs and woods. The smell of a particular sort of energy reverberating in the air. It makes me want to fall down on my knees, Pope-like, and kiss the ground that bore me.

Some scents are truly gone from this earth however. I am lucky to have them living in my head, and I am even luckier to have this strange ability to call them forth and smell them again whenever I wish to. The scent of my maternal grandmother, recently gone from this world, is probably the most precious such Ghost. It smells of her skin, scented like fresh dough after working her capable hands on each and everything that needed attention in the house. That slight smell of sweet and sour dough, the smell of light sweat over clean, soapy skin, calls forth an image of her working in her old kitchen, turning to smile down at me. And all I can do is wish I could run and hug her again. But at least I have her smell. Ghost of a scent.

Images: www.sxc.hu, www.morguefile.com

A Little Tip for Shoppers in Den Haag

Good afternoon lovelies,
I have already started studying hard for my upcoming last exams of the academic year, which are ten days away. I do not expect to be able to post much in the next ten days, but I will do my best to bring you at least a couple of smaller posts. Today just a little tip for those of you living in Den Haag and those of you that live close enough to shop there: Douglas Den Haag is currently having a half-price offer on a small number of fragrances. Underneath a heap of the usual trashy suspects I first uncovered Moschino’s Friends, a simple yet beautiful masculine of which unfortunately only the deodorants are left, but even more exciting was the discovery of several Ferre by Ferre eau de parfum bottles, going for just 31 euros each. Although Ferre by Gianfranco Ferre has not been officially discontinued, it is a hard to find fragrance. The price is great and the juice is just marvelous. It is a softly sweet floral-woody/musky scent that smells rather decadent, like a tribute to all the Italian scents which smelled like liquid gold in the very early nineties. It lasts forever and it is sexy and comforting at once, begging the nose to come closer whenever it catches a whiff of it. Fans of the discontinued, absolutely fabulous By Woman by Dolce & Gabbana are going to love this one – the two are very close. Snap it up! I am feeling rather regretful myself for not grabbing one last night...

Official Notes:

Top: Bergamot, Pineapple, Iris Leaf
Middle: Rose, Lily-of-the-Valley, Ylang-Ylang, Jasmine, Freesia, Magnolia
Base: Iris Root, Sandalwood, Vetiver, Amber, Vanilla, Musk, Basmati Rice

Image: www.marvistore.com

Would you Like this on Your Dresser? Greek Gems

Perfume containers in ancient Greece were most often earthenware, spun ceramics, whose shape reflected the type of perfume held within. Lekuthos, slim elegant vials, were often made of glass and were mostly used for liquid perfume. Aryballes were used for perfumed oils, balms and ointments. Alabastron bottles were very collectible perfume containers, often branded by the craftsmen who made them, rendering them even more collectible, especially amongst women. Tourists that visit Greece nowadays will be hard-pressed to find any original Greek perfumes today, despite the fact that this little, beautiful Mediterranean country has had a strong relationship with perfumes and cosmetics since ancient times. In addition to flower essences such as iris, rose, lily and violet, the Greeks also favored spices and herbs, such as marjoram, sage and cumin for their scents. Incense and myrrh were originally seen as only fit for the gods and were reserved for religious rituals, up until the 4th century B.C., when a shift in tastes and ideology occurred. Certain regions and islands still produce scents made with local plants and resins, but even these are hard to find even for natives. The island of Zakynthos (also known as Zante) for example, still has a small family operated perfumery business which makes six different scents, four marketed towards women and two that are considered rather more masculine. These are all made with local ingredients, the most beautiful of which is made by a local flower that resembles jasmine. However interesting, these modern Greek perfumes likely bear no resemblance to the Greek perfumes of ancient times. Still, we can admire the containers of these precious oils and essences while imagining a world in which perfume was once so popular it was feared that it would bring on an economic crisis...




· Aryballos shaped like a warrior’s head, wearing a helmet. Two-tone ceramic, 6th century B.C., found in Rhodes. www.museumdelperfume.com







· Alabastron bottles, ovoid-shaped. Particularly attractive image of woman looking in the mirror (far left). 4th century B.C., Egnatia. www.museumdelperfume.com







· This magnificent Aryballos stands only about 6.8 cm (2.7 inches) tall, yet manages to display no fewer than seventeen fully armed warriors. According to the text accompanying the picture on the British Museum’s website the warriors

“are locked in combat, thrusting their spears, jostling for position, or falling to the ground. Each warrior is armed with plumed helmet, spear and blazoned shield. Some are realistically streaked with blood. Two further figure scenes below show a horse-race and a hare-hunt. The upper part of the vase takes the form of a lion's head, its mouth open to display rows of fearsome teeth and a red tongue.”

This fabulous flacon dates from about 640 BC, was made in Corinth and is said to be from Thebes, Greece. www.britishmuseum.org







· This funny looking terracotta scent bottle in the shape of a rotund, squatting little man stands about 15 cm (5.9 inches) tall and according to the British Museum’s wonderful website, he is more of a “caricature, made for comic effect”. It was found in Kameiros, on the island of Rhodes, where reportedly, hundreds of other perfume bottles have been found. It dates from about 520 BC. www.britishmuseum.org








· I love the graceful lines of this perfume bottle, in the shape of a heron. This particular aryballos is clay earthenware and stands about 13 cm (5.1 inches) tall. It dates from about 580 BC. The piece belongs to the Cleveland Museum of Art, it is, however, not on display at the moment. www.clevelandart.org







· This beautiful alabastron also comes from Kameiros, Rhodes, and is made of clay. Standing 21 cm (8.3 inches) tall, it is in the shape of a woman wearing a veil on her head and a pendant around her neck. She is tenderly holding a dove against her breast. According the British Museum’s website alabastra were mostly used by women:

“Scenes on figured vases suggest that women were the main users of alabastra: they are shown being given to women as presents or being bought by women in the market.”

This particular one dates from 550 BC. www.britishmuseum.org





Images: www.arthistory.sbc.edu, www.museumdelperfume.com, www.britishmuseum.org, www.clevelandart.org

Perfumed Thoughts : Natural Perfumery

Today I want to touch on a subject that is slightly difficult for me to broach, not only because of its slightly controversial nature, but also because, admittedly, I am not as well informed as I would like to be. Still, it is something that has been on my mind for over a week now and I would rather take the chance to share my thoughts with you while they are fresh, rather than wait. Today’s little piece is not a mandate, but indeed just my own personal thoughts on the matter, hoping to raise consciousness, provoke thought, consideration and hopefully discussion.

I was recently reading an article titled “The Scent of the Nile”, originally published in the New Yorker by Chandler Burr. The following excerpt (referring to Jean-Claude Ellena) quotes part of that article:

“(...)Even though Ellena’s perfumes often evoke the smells of nature, he believes that scents containing only natural materials are not, fundamentally, perfumes. The art of perfumery, Ellena believes, is the art of gracefully combining different chemicals, some natural, some synthetic. The first perfume synthetics were created in the nineteenth century.(...).”

I couldn’t help but find myself having an immediately negative reaction to this statement. Surely this can’t be right? What are the implications of this statement? That natural perfumery is not perfumery at all? That someone who composes all natural scents is not actually a perfumer? That whether creative expression can or cannot be considered as art depends on the medium used? I just couldn’t accept this... I just couldn’t validate this statement. Burr mentions that the first perfume synthetics were created in the nineteenth century; I would like to draw a parallel to express my feelings about this issue. Before the 15th century, painters worked mostly with egg paints, otherwise known as tempera. However, in the 15th century there was a revolution: European painters suddenly started using oil paints, popularizing the medium and changing the face of art as we know it. Suddenly hues that were never seen on a painting before materialized. Textures became so realistic you could immediately tell whether you were looking at velvet or silk. Candlelight reflected differently on silver than it did on crystal. Pearls shone softly. The eye saw in the painting, what it saw in real life. A whole new world was opened up for painters worldwide. You see, egg paints pose numerous limitations: it is hard, or nigh impossible to play with the elements of darkness and light when painting with tempera. There is no way to render light of different intensities. Painting different hues takes not only incredible skill, but these almost never appear realistic. Same with water – there is no way to paint water that appears natural with egg, and it is incredibly difficult to show objects submerged under water or behind a gossamer veil, because egg does not lend itself to see-through expression. Still, despite these limitations, wonderful works of art were created with just egg paints: simply being confronted with the skill of master visual hagiographers who managed to paint the legs of John the Baptist submerged in the river despite the aforementioned difficulties, is enough to bring tears of awe to one’s eyes. And despite the fact that painters can indeed do so many more different things with oil, egg painting is not a lost art. Just like natural perfumery, it is a craft that is not as conspicuous as oil painting, however, it is still very much alive. It takes many painstaking years of studious, extremely disciplined apprenticeship to become a master visual hagiographer today. Even though these artists are limited not only by their medium of choice, but also by the techniques that identify this art form, they still manage to tell their own story, express their own creativity and impregnate each individual piece with their signature. It is a mysterious form of art: the more you know about it, the more you can appreciate it.

I guess what I am trying to say is this: You cannot judge art by the medium used: Whether the medium is marble, steel, or scrapheap salvage, the result is still art, and the creator a sculptor.

Image: commons.wikimedia.org

Smelly Facts: Scented History

In their paper “Chirality and Odor Perception – Scents of Precious Woods”, authors Leffingwell and John C. review the effect of chirality on the odor of “sandalwood odorants (beta-santalols, 3-isocamphylicyclohexanols & Ebanol((R))s), patchouli odorants (patchoulol & spiropatchoulolone), agarwood (karanone dihydrokaranone & jinkohol II) as well as the odor active components of other woody fragrance materials (Iso E Super((R)), Georgywood((R)), etc.” and provide an overview of “the progress made in key chiral odorants that represent the scents of precious woods”

The article’s abstract, which I am including below, is a most interesting read in its own right and hopefully serves as impetus for seeking out the full text.

“From the beginning of recorded history, trading of fragrant oils, spices and precious woods were important items of early commerce. By 3000 BC the Egyptians - when learning to write and make bricks, were already importing large quantities of myrrh. In November 1922 when the archeologist, Howard Carter, discovered the tomb of the boy pharaoh, Tutankhamon, a world of knowledge about an age 3000 years before would unfold. As the painstaking discovery and cataloguing of artifacts proceeded, of the items found were perfume containers filled with spices & aromatic substances (such as frankincense) preserved in fat that still gave off a faint odor. From Japan, China, India to the Middle East, the use of precious woods such as sandalwood, agarwood, patchouli and cedarwood, as well as frankincense and myrrh, have been used from antiquity for religious ceremonies and for pleasure. Aromatic woods and plants were burned during funeral ceremonies, providing a connection between this world and the after-life. The word perfume derives from the Latin '' per fumum '' (by means of smoke) and refers to the ancient practice of burning aromatic woods and scented material in religious ceremonies to deepen the connection between people and their Gods. It should also be mentioned that burning aromatic woods and resins was also necessary to cover the stench after animals (or even humans - as practiced in India) were sacrificed in the flames so as not to drive away all participants of these religious rituals (1).
Today, in the Middle East, the aroma of sandalwood and patchouli still permeates coffee shops and bazaars as a mixture of these aromatics are used in the tobacco paste called '' Jurak '' smoked by men (and only rarely by women) in a water-pipe (or Shisho, Narghile or Hookha).
The use of aromatics derived from such Woods (or in the case of patchouli, the sweet, heavy woody scent derived from the leaves of the herbaceous shrub, Pogostemon cablin (Blanco) Benth.), remains popular in modem perfumes.”

Image: The making of Lily perfume, fragment of tomb decoration, 4th Century BC. Department of Egyptian Antiquities, Louvre. Source: commons.wikimedia.org
Reference: “Chirality and odor perception - Scents of precious woods”, Chimica oggi [0392-839X] Leffingwell yr:2006 vol:24 iss:4 pg:36 -38

Smelly Facts : Bee as Perfumer

Bees commonly use odors in order to communicate with each other. This behavior is especially prevalent in the context of mating. These odors, are most often produced by the bees themselves – that is, they are chemicals produced by their glands. Some bees however, make use of odors found in their environment in order to communicate. The males of the neotropical orchid bee genera, which count more than 200 species, collect volatile chemicals from their environment (from flowers, fruit, tree wounds, feces etc) and deposit those in leg pouches in order to create different fragrances which they then use to perfume territorial sites where mating occurs. The role of these fragrances is yet unknown. What is quite astounding, is that these bees use a form of enfleurage (a method of extraction of floral scents by means of a lipophilic carrier, in other words, grease – a method widely used in the perfume industry)! Specifically, in order “to collect fragrances, the bees apply large amounts of straight-chain lipids to odoriferous surfaces from their cephalic labial glands, which dissolve the volatiles, and the mixture is then transferred to voluminous hind-leg pockets.” (...) “From the hind-leg pockets (...) deuterated derivatives of carrier lipids (are) consecutively sequestered, shuttled back to the labial glands and reused on consecutive bouts of fragrance collection. Such lipid cycling is instrumental in creating complex perfume bouquets.”

Reference: Adaptation of text and quotes, “Enfleurage, lipid recycling and the origin of
perfume collection in orchid bees”, Eltz et al., 2007, Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences, vol. 274.

Image: www.scielo.br

Pure Purple by Hugo Boss : Perfume Review

I am finally feeling better (I finally managed to wear perfume last night after what seemed like an eon). Normally I am rather careful when my stomach feels as fragile as it still does, and only choose to wear things I am certain I can live with for the rest of the day, but curiosity got the better of me this morning. My little sample of Hugo Pure Purple has been staring at me for a couple of weeks now, willing me to try it. I am always attracted by the Boss advertising campaigns, but never have as much luck with the fragrances, I fear. I hoped that this time things would be different, I was prepared to love this – the notes seemed rather charming to me. I am gonna go ahead, kill the suspense, and tell you right away though, I didn’t. I don’t suppose you look surprised. Neither do I, I guess ... but hope is always nastily bruised when it tumbles down.

The opening of Pure Purple is very candied and fruity – it feels like a little party broke out at the confectionary department. The competition dies down fast: a hit of cherries and bitter almond triumphantly emerge. Not my cup of tea, but a good enough, respectable opening. After the initial gourmand kick, a floral bouquet opens up, slowly muting the almond, while the cherries die a quick and painless death. I cannot pick out any individual flowers – I almost don’t dare to say it, but this feels like a floral soup that is there to give a floral ambience, without quite committing to showcasing the nuances of any single bloom. Are they really there? It feels like an elusive strawberry food flavoring...There, recognizable, but not quite real. It doesn’t sparkle, it fails to bloom, it can’t escape its single-dimensionality. What I do manage to smell clearly though, is an underlying woody base with a hint of dangerous masculinity – which is just about the only interesting part of this perfume. The development is altogether too rapid and soon the floral bouquet finds itself overwhelmed by the woods. Still, this is not the type of woody blend I personally like: it is altogether too thick and not particularly evocative of anything. A hint of patch? A touch of sandal? A certain creaminess? Was all this thrown together and mixed with a stick? It feels like it. I, it turn, feel like shrugging... And that, possibly, says it all. This ain’t a scrubber...It doesn’t even have enough character to make me nauseous, it seems, even though the effort is admittedly valiant. I usually double over when assaulted by such a dense blend of woody notes and the peculiarity of the mild, bothersome sweetness throughout should have made this an even more likely reaction, but no, I still just shrugged it off. Unfortunately, my non-reaction is not the worst thing I can report about Pure Purple. No, the worst part is actually the fact that this does not even smell like a perfume to me... It smells like a shower gel! You know the ones: middle range drugstore shower gel, touted as using the qualities of this or that essential oil to relax you or help you reconnect with your sensual side. They usually do nothing of the sort, but they are pleasant enough and strong enough to have the feel of being infused with essential oils. In fact the closest reminder is Palmolive’s Aromatherapy Anti-Stress Shower Gel. So strongly I was reminded of it in fact, that I had to rush upstairs for a side-by-side comparison. Disappointingly, they are not as close as my initial instinct indicated, but close enough, at least in feel. There is a definite kinship there; they share the same feel, if that makes any sense. And that is what I get from Pure Purple in a few words: the scent of a powerfully scented shower gel in spray format. It feels hastily thrown together – a thoughtless composition that is rather murky and lacks any sophistication whatsoever. To be fair though, I’ll have to grudgingly admit that the drydown is surprisingly good. It is not stellar or unique, but it is intensely comforting: A very feminine, dusty oriental that has the feel of a skin-scent with a hint of powder. It is warm and alluring and the murkiness finally lifts, to reveal clean, sensual skin underneath. Very wintry and rather sexy, like something you’d wear when you know your lover is soon going to nuzzle your neck. (Not too soon though, give the damned soup some time to calm down, alright?)

Lastly...Can we deal with the bottle for a second? Why is it practically identical to Lancome’s Hypnose Eau Légère?

Images: www.100aromatov.ru

Smelly Facts: Olfaction and Gender Differences

Perfume enthusiasts often marvel at the individual differences that emerge when one person’s experience of a scent is compared to another’s. Our individual perception of a scent is likely tied not only to life experiences that have shaped the way we perceive certain smells, but to constitutional differences as well. One very surprising and important variable that plays a role in olfactory differences is gender. “On the average, women detect odors more readily than men, and the brain responses to odors are stronger in women than in men.” (Doty et al., 1985) Additionally, women are apparently more attentive to smells as well. For example, the smell of a potential partner plays a bigger role for women than it does for men. Furthermore, when repeatedly attending to a particular faint odor, women have the ability to become gradually and progressively more sensitive to it, until they can detect it in concentrations one-thousandth (!) of what they could at the start. (Dalton et al., 2002) However, it must be noted that this effect is not exhibited in prepubertal girls and menopausal women, so this ability seems to be tied to female hormones.

What effects might this increased sensitivity have on the different ways men and women perceive the same fragrance? Are there any implications for professional perfumers? It seems unthinkable, considering the time and enormous effort involved in training a professional nose. On the other hand, according to studies, only women of sexually reproductive age are able to detect faint odors in such minute concentrations as mentioned above. Surely that should make a difference? I realize I am following a controversial train of thought at the moment, and one I am certainly underqualified to make any assumptions on. It certainly is an interesting topic though, wouldn’t you say?

References:
Dalton, Doolittle, & Breslin, 2002
Doty, Applebaum, Zusho, & Settle 1985
Kalat, 2007

Image: www.gutenberg.org
Dalton