With Valentine's Day upon us, what better time to think about the fragrances that made us fall in love with fragrance! We ask our team of writers and some of our future writers, which fragrance made their heart and nose, go Boom!
It was 1986 and I was early in my career. I was regularly wearing Ralph Lauren Polo and Aramis and while I liked them I canít honestly say I loved them. Fragrant love came in a Macyís menís department when I was shopping for clothes. While I was looking at the shirts the most amazing smell kept wafting around me. I looked up and saw a smartly dressed woman holding an oval bottle filled with an amber liquid. I walked over and as I got closer realized that was the source of the smell I was taken with. I asked her what that was and she told me this was the new Calvin Klein scent Obsession for Men and sprayed some on my wrist. Although I didnít know it at the time that was my first experience with the Basenotes Salute, wrist firmly glued to nose while walking around. I couldnít get enough of this fragrance. I would be back in Macyís buying the whole Obsession for Men line the next day; cologne, after shave, deodorant and soap. I covered myself in that fragrance for about a year and to date that is the only time in my life where Iíve worn one fragrance for so long. Even today, when I wear it, it makes me fall in love with fragrance all over again.
Mark Behnke is a regular contributor to the Forums under the name, Somerville Metro Man. Mark will be writing a regular niche fragrance column for Basenotes.
Before my first kiss, my first Puppy love was with L'Air du Temps. By the time I was a sophisticated little Missy, I wore my Hermes Caleche as a precocious six year old. By the age of ten, I had amassed a little fragrance collection of Madame Rochas, Memoire by Shiseido, Courreges and Fidji along with so many other smaller scents.
When that first kiss did finally come, it was Rochas's' Audace that made me swoon. I owe so much to the House of Rochas and my other boyfriend, Guy Robert!
Marian Bendeth has won three Canadian fragrance awards for her writing on Basenotes and is founder of the consulting company, Sixth Scents.
Greece, 1994. With the ear-splitting chirrup of cicadas in the coastal pines, and the Mediterranean sun hammering down on my back, I first experienced Paloma Picasso's Minotaure from a friend's bottle that was bought to the beach. I spritzed modestly, releasing crisp citrus molecules onto the air that came to rest across my collarbone. For a moment, the oppressive heat abated and I basked in the perfume of blood orange and lemon-like geranium; my eyes drawn instantly to the vivid potted bushels lining the shuttered sills and white-washed balconies behind me.
As the shadows of the day grew longer, Minotaure continued to swell on the air - a sensuous, rich, brawny leather emerged... and I felt transformed.
My unforseen love affair had commenced.
Dimitri Dimitriadis is a regular on the Forums and has contributed his graphics and writing skills to Basenotes. Dimitri also blogs at Sorcery of Scent
I loved perfumes as a toddler. My mother and her friends, and all my aunts would give me their almost-spent bottles of perfume to play with. I spent hours mesmerized by the beautiful scents and bottles, playing with them as another little girl would with dolls. It wasn't until I was seven that I could put a name to a perfume that absolutely transported me - Chanel No. 5. Desperate to experience the incredible opening blast of beauty, I doused myself over and over in an attempt to recapture that magic. I suppose that is the real sign of an addiction, just looking for the rush by going after the high over and over. I've since devoted my life and art to natural perfumes, but I will never deny the perfume that led me to love perfumes beyond reason.
Anya McCoy is president and owner of the Natural Perfumers Guild as well as the perfumer behind Anya's Garden. Anya contributed occasional book reviews and natural perfumery columns to Basenotes.
My first memories of fragrance are from when I was very young. I remember playing with my mumís empty bottles of Pagan when I was about 2, one of my first memories. I began collecting scented novelty soaps as a child and ended up with quite a collection, all of which I assume have been used up by now. This progressed onto cheap fragrances from bargain basement chemists, canít remember the names so they must have been good! My first ďrealĒ fragrance was Drakkar Noir. Iíll never forget my first sniff of it, the wonderful complex top notes with the woody masculine base. To this day the top notes take me back to when bought it at 15. I was so disappointed that the top didnít stay around for longer, the best part of this fragrance in my opinion. This is where the addiction started. From age 15 I have never had less than 20 fragrances which has grown and grown ever since. When I stumbled upon Basenotes I had around 70 fragrances, now I have over 800. Itís all Basenotes fault!
Colin Murchie is an occasional contributor to Basenotes and spend many years moderating the Forums.
Perhaps it's the warmth of nurture or the flattering projection of admiration but young boys always want to be like their father, stealing umm borrowing his cologne and in later years his watches, ties and car. A child can be the greatest thief this side of Arsine Lupin. I still remember waking up in Memphis, Tennessee as a child and inhaling the smell of Halston Z-14 filling the house as my father was getting ready for work.
We only had one bathroom and as one often does, I'd wake to an internal alarm clock located in my bladder. With contorting knees and facial expressions not unlike a cat after is swallows a canary, I'd quiver outside the bathroom taking delight in the Z-14 fumes. It's a powerful concoction, balsamic notes and deep woods and a thick styrax benzoin drift get right up in your face with more attitude than a mother in law. I'd finally get my turn in the bathroom and after shutting off my internal alarm I'd take my time carefully looking over the bottle and dabbing it on with precision. I'd hold the beautiful smoke tinted bottle as if it were a grail.
What made Z-14 so special for me was that despite its dark bold presence it had a silky zip that added a sense of refreshment. Other "power scents" of the eighties like Antaeus, Kouros or Calvin didn't have the air of comfort for me that Z-14 had. I'd come out of the bathroom smelling a little too fragrant (especially for an eight year old on his way to third grade arithmetic). My father never minded - he'd just laugh. He always gave me samples when he bought a fragrance and I hoarded them. I had my own little men's fragrance counter in miniature form. I'd never use the Z-14 samples since I didn't want them to finish.
Z-14 doesn't just make me think of my first fragrance impression as Valentine's day nears but also it brings up memories of my father whose birthday also happens to be on Valentine's day. I recently read that Halston is revamping the formula (I assume making it less think and more friendly to today's consumer). I hope that they don't do away with the original formula as that wold make me an unhappy widow. It's said that one never forgets their first love, that is in many ways irreplaceable. Z-14 is.
Ali Nakhai is a writer and film maker based in LA and NYC.
I remember being given a bottle of Jazz for my 18th birthday, and while I enjoyed its scent, it meant no more to me than a functionary fragrance such as the one in my shower gel, or deodorant. It wasn't until I started selling fragrances a few years later when I ran into Body Kouros by the excellent Annick Menardo. I remember sniffing it at the time and being strangely repulsed and attracted to it, which is what got me hooked. Since then, Menardo's work continues to attract me - Bulgari Black, Time for Peace, Hypnotic Poison etc..
Grant Osborne is the founder and editor of Basenotes
Fragrance to fall in love with. Love for fragrance. The deep spell that a magic fragrance gives, and how smelling the thing is a delight impenetrable and effervescent just like love. First fragrance to make fall in love with fragrance? There are so many of these firsts, and each one different.
Adolescence. Fantasy that anything in the world could be gotten at the large department store in my small northern Midwestern American city. Go there and imagine that someday I might wear a round point collared shirt, blue striped with white collar and cuffs. Ride the escalator imagining a fantasy future supplied by the things between those walls yet avoiding looking at my reflection the mirrors on all sides and the ceiling of the escalatorís diagonal passage. Stopping at the chrome, glass, and solid black lucite fragrance counter and the discovery of smell voyages. Universes even. Lagerfeld (the one now called classic or original). Chanel Pour Monsieur (the oakmoss and citrus glory that came before the ďconcentreeĒ version today so widespread). Lauderís JHL. Each arresting. That people could smell of this! That this glamour world existed, that I might go where people smelled so exotic and, that I could join that world, clearly so far away and different from my small city on the river! That people could put these on and then take them for granted, turning to do whatever they had to do in their days and forgetting that they smelled of the exotic in the old--read European--world, and thus,in forgetting their scent, make it so much of a part of them and so guileless. So effortless. Such glamour and all the interesting places and people in the world, so easily. Those bottles sent me places and thereís no forgetting them.
Christopher Peterson is the writer behind the Xtreme Scents column, and will continue this subject in a column to be published soon.
How can one pinpoint the precise moment in time when one of their inquisitive senses really "opened up" and revealed a Heaven of Delights, such as smell can? The magic bullet that cut through my brain's rhinencephalon came at an age when no more did I know this part of my brain existed, let alone being able to pronounce it! Before seeing Yves Saint Laurent's couture on Betty Catroux and Talitha Getty in the photos of the glossy magazines that my mother used to cut out clippings of when she deemed them beautiful and before I leafed through my fatherís art-books with the colorful, geometrical Mondrian and trapezoid Braque paintings, an objet d'art
in liquid form had tagged at my heartstrings and not only my nose: Opium...The very word makes me cuss with delight, sigh with longing and feel inexplicably happy the way only romance can!
The trigger had been pulled while stepping into a taxi out of which a woman wearing Opium had just left. My puerile ears had the good fortune of catching the driverís phrase ďMy God, this Opium scent is everywhere and itís so strong!Ē My mother nodded her beautiful head in silent demi-assent ~as she always did when she was too polite to disagree or further an argument. Myself I was not yet capable of discerning nuances of speech so as to differentiate a positive from a negative one. I only seem to recall that that was the most exquisite scent I had ever smelled, I was straining to absorb every single molecule I could attach to my nostrilsí Velcro and I was already seriously longing for it as soon as I stepped out of that taxi. I canít really recall where we were going, whether our purpose was a practical or social one, what we were wearing or how the driver looked like. My memory obliterated all those things, choosing to cherish only the precious memento of first smelling Opium off the sillage of a complete stranger. It haunted me for years and as soon as I had pocket money or could request gifts of beauty I knew what my little heart desired: the forbidden elixir encased in the cinnabar bottle with the black tassel! Other perfumes came and went and I amassed whatever I could lay my hands on, but Opium became my foray into the world of a love affair with perfumes themselves. And for that I'm forever grateful...
Elena Vosnaki is a perfume historian and the owner of the blog, Perfume Shrine.
What made you fall in love...?