What is the Perfume Project?

This blog is a constantly evolving forum for thoughts on perfume, perfume-making, plants (especially orchids and flora of the Pacific Northwest) and life in general. It started out chronicling the adventures of Olympic Orchids Perfumes, established in July 2010, and has expanded in other directions. A big part of the blog is thinking about the ongoing process of learning and experimentation that leads to new perfumes, the exploration of perfumery materials, the theory and practice of perfume making, the challenges of marketing perfumes and other fragrance products, and random observations on philosophy and society. Spam comments will be marked as such and deleted; any comments that go beyond the boundaries of civil discourse will also be deleted. I am grateful to all of you, the readers, who contribute to the blog by commenting and making this a truly interactive perfume project.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

AN INTERVIEW AND AN OFFER



Not what it sounds like. For those who haven’t seen Portia’s interview with me on the AustralianPerfumeJunkies blog, it’s right here. A big thank-you to Portia for the interview and write-up and the subsequent reviews of three Olympic Orchids perfumes!

Along with the interview is the announcement of a special offer, which I’d like to extend to readers of my blog: $5 off any international shipping, or free shipping of bottles within the US through June 25. To make it more fun, you’ll have to go on a treasure hunt in one of the above two APJ posts to find the coupon code to put in the appropriate box at checkout.

No, I didn’t travel to Sydney for the interview (I only wish!). The photo was taken when I was there on other business a couple of years ago.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

HIMBA DRY PERFUME TINCTURE AND THE ORIGINS OF PERFUME



As I’ve mentioned before, I have been trying a lot of South African perfume materials, and have been generally impressed with them. Among others, I was extremely fortunate to get a sample of a tincture that Sophia Du Toit had made from a dry perfume/incense traditionally made by the Himba people of southern Africa, a group that still lives more or less in the traditional way.

The tincture is a dark brown in color. When I first applied it, I thought the smell was going to be very subtle, but it quickly developed into a complex fragrance that included strong camphorous notes, probably from plants like buchu, along with a slightly musty, earthy scent, and a very subtle hint of floral notes. It’s a pleasant, comforting fragrance, on a par with any niche perfume and better than many. It’s the sort of fragrance that I’d like to wear to sleep because I think it would promote amazing dreams.


The most surprising thing about this tincture was that it lasted for as long as any strong commercial perfume. I applied it one morning, and it was still present on my skin more than 24 hours later, on the following day. Whatever the base notes are, they prolong the camphorous, almost eucalyptus-like scent for longer than I would have imagined possible, given that this sort of fragrance is usually a top note. Although fairly subtle, this perfume has amazing lasting power. Maybe it’s due to the Omumbiri resin that’s reportedly used in it. I have some of the dried resin, and now I can’t wait to tincture it and smell it.


In the course of reading Sophia’s blog post about the Himba dry perfume and other matters, I was struck by her suggestion that southern Africa is the place where perfume originated. The region certainly offers a rich selection of materials that would facilitate the making of incense, body rubs, and scented sachets. If humans originated in that part of the world, it only makes sense that perfume originated with them. There is something fundamental and deeply rooted in our nature that makes us want to rub ourselves with leaves, roots, flowers, and resins, luxuriate in the fragrant smoke of various woods and plant materials, scent our homes with fragrant plants and flowers, and engage in the spiritual practice of meditating on scent and offering it up to whatever invisible higher powers we might imagine hovering over, under, around, or within us.

[Photos of Himba village in Namibia adapted from Wikimedia]

Friday, June 8, 2012

MAKING THE NEIGHBORHOOD ROUNDS


After a long winter of inactivity, I’ve started getting outside and running regularly again – at least a little bit. I’m not going to reveal anything about my actual activities or goals, since I don’t want to jinx it. Actually, I’m not sure myself, just taking it one day at a time. I suppose my motivation is simply that it feels good. The only other thing I will say is that every fourth day I take a “day off”, when I just go for a walk around the neighborhood to keep me in the habit of getting outside and moving.

Today was the walkabout day. I try not to go exactly the same way twice, so had the pleasure of exploring some roads that I usually don’t travel on. According to the local newspaper, the weather this June has set some sort of record for rain, with more rain in the first week than we normally have during the whole month. As a consequence, everything is incredibly lush and green, almost jungle-like. The aromas in the air were amazing, changing each time I passed a different set of trees, shrubs, or flowers.

The favorite part of my walkabout was going down a small residential road that winds through a ravine. There’s no traffic except for the cars of the people who live there, so it was relaxing to not have to worry about getting run down by an idiot in an SUV or a teenager in a pickup truck. For some reason it reminded me of walks that we used to take with my parents when we lived in Virginia, down country roads flanked by tall weeds flourishing in the sun, then up a shady, green, mountain path that went past an abandoned, “haunted” house overgrown with brush and vines, where daffodils still bloomed in the spring.

Some random highlights of the neighborhood survey:


A micro-neighborhood with a cluster of big, old heirloom-type rose bushes, all obviously descended from the same ancestor. The flowers were fairly small, with a moderate number of petals, and a vivid red-purple in color. I think they must be the ancestor of the Rhapsody in Blue rose shown in the photo. The fragrance was unique, strongly peppery and spicy up front, with the rose floral scent taking a supporting role. I love stumbling on flowers like this!

A police car from the “city” of Burien parked by the side of the road. Burien is nowhere near where I live, many tens of miles of crow’s flight away, on the other side of Seattle. If the driver commutes to Burien to work, it’s a long trek.


Calla lilies already blooming. Ours are still just in the leaf stage.

A tree with dark purple leaves and clusters of beautifully fragrant pink flowers. I have no idea what it was, but the flowers were honey-sweet, with a little bit of a black currant fragrance.


The discovery that one of our neighbors still keeps horses in their “front yard”. I thought the last of the farm animals had been displaced by suburban development, so the horse pasture was an unexpected find.

Now back to grading students’ papers, packing orchids, setting up my new “smart” phone, and (I hope) working on some perfume-related things.

[Painting of walker by Leon Bovin (1863); Purple rose photo adapted from Wikimedia (kicking myself for not taking my camera on my walks); calla lilies are mine; painting of horse by Anton Mauve, mid-19th century]

Monday, June 4, 2012

WINNER OF CAPE MAY DRAWING



The winner of the sample of cape may essential oil is ANAT13, as determined by a repeated coin toss. Please e-mail me your full name and mailing address.

[Photo of South African Cape vegetation from WIkimedia]

Sunday, June 3, 2012

THE LOST ART OF ASKING “WHY?”

On Friday morning when I took one of my routine trips to the post office, I was surprised to see a long line snaking out the door, moving at a glacial pace. Actually, with global warming, this metaphor no longer applies because glaciers move faster than bureaucratic processes, and eventually disappear. Bureaucracy and the lines at the post office just go on and on.

Surprise turned to shock when I finally managed to get in the door and heard the one employee who works at the 3-position counter apologetically tell a customer that she had to manually type in all of the information from the “short” customs form. I went into deep denial at that point, hoping that I had misheard. Surely all of the information anyone needs is on the form, which is completed in triplicate. There’s the sender’s address, the recipient’s address, detailed information on what is in the package, the country of origin, the value of the goods, whether it’s a gift or merchandise, … well, you get the idea. One copy of the form goes on the package, one goes to the sender, and one goes in a filing box, presumably to be stored in some obscure bureaucratic silo, the contents of which eventually grow into a compacted mass as glaciers used to do in the good old days. Every form has a bar code that presumably can be scanned to track the package’s progress. Is that not record enough?

My denial was in vain, because when I finally got up to the counter, I was told that all of the information from the three forms associated with the sample packs that I was shipping internationally had to be typed into the clunky, cranky old PC-type terminal – apparently not an easy task given that it didn’t “like” half of what she tried to put in. The poor employee was looking frazzled, partly because she was struggling with everyone’s bad handwriting, international addresses and non-English entries, the passive-aggressive people who were tired of waiting in line, and then my sarcastic comments poured on top of that. I did try to be as nice as I could to her, given that the whole fiasco was not her fault.

Of course I asked her why she was suddenly required to type in information from the customs forms, and she seemed surprised by the question. Her response was that when she had come to work that morning there was a message informing her that from now on she was supposed to type in all of the information from every customs form.

“But why?”, I asked. She replied that she did not know. It was just the order she had received.

“From whom?” She did not know.

“Who made this incredibly stupid decision?” She did not know, but thought it must have been someone in the US Customs Office.

“Why would the US Customs Office suddenly want to triple the work of every postal employee when the post office is laying off half of their employees and closing offices? It makes no sense to create unnecessary work at the same time as the labor force is reduced.” She could not answer that question.

“Why do you need to duplicate information that’s already on the forms in triplicate?” She didn’t know, but thought maybe it had something to do with the fact that US Customs is now run by “Homeland Security”.

Ahhhhh … now it all started to make a little bit of sense, albeit illogical sense, and only if one is prone to paranoid conspiracy theories.

“Is there someone I can complain to?” She gave me the card of the person in charge of the main post office.

When I called the number, the person in charge had the same reaction as the employee. She was surprised that I complained, and she did not know why the post office had been asked to manually enter information from every customs form. I asked her who had made the decision, and her answer was that “they” had made the decision and issued the order.

I asked the obvious question, “Who are ‘they’?” She had no clue.

What I did learn from her is that there is a company that, for a price, provides software that allows one to fill out customs forms online and, presumably, transmit that information to the post office’s computer system. Two conspiracies for the price of one! Not only can the US government have digital access to a record of everything that everyone ships everywhere in the world, people can pay a company for the privilege of easily providing these data to whatever faceless big-brother bureaucrats sit in their dreary cubicles compiling piles of useless information. Not only can your tax dollars be used to support this ludicrous waste of human and digital energy, you can pay extra to do it in style.

Now that I think about it, there’s a third component to the whole scheme. With postal employees doing a whole lot of extra, unproductive work, the post office will lose even more money than they currently do, and accelerate their slide into bankruptcy. The whole shebang can then be taken over by something like Central Services in the old film Brazil. And no one will ask, “Why?”

[Glacier photo from Wikimedia; customs form sample from USPS website, Brazil image from Wikipedia]

Friday, June 1, 2012

NIGHT-SINGING BIRDS

Last night I was working in my perfume “lab” (or should I call it an "atelier"?) until about 2:30 AM. Shortly after I went to bed, I was awakened by a bird’s chirping. It was so loud that I couldn’t sleep. I lay awake and listened to it, as it sleepily chirped like a baby chicken at first, then sang more strongly, and before long was joined by other birds, all twittering and tweeting. My research on birds suggested that they were probably blackbirds, but they could have been anything.

I entertained myself trying to figure out which voice was coming from where ... from the cedars, the alders across the road, the cottonwoods in the ravine, the big leaf maples, the blackberries in the marsh ... near or far away. It was at least a couple of hours before dawn, so I marveled at the birds' ability to sense that night would soon be over, and their daily activities could begin.

It made me think of Paul McCartney’s old song, “Blackbird singing in the dead of night … “ because that’s just what these birds were doing. It somehow made me happy to hear those bird sounds in the middle of a dark, rainy night, especially the first, almost eerie-sounding, cry announcing that the morning would eventually come.

I thought it would be a good idea to go back to my old habit of trying to write at least one positive thing each week. This is especially relevant given that my trip to the post office this morning unleashed the mother of all rants. Stay tuned for that one!

[Singing blackbird photo from Wikimedia. Birds at night by Watanabe Shotei, 19th century]

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

CAPE MAY ESSENTIAL OIL

I recently got on a kick of trying South African botanicals, and have just discovered one that I’m definitely going to use in a perfume. Its common names are cape may and white confetti bush, and its scientific name is listed as Coleonema album everywhere I looked. I have no explanation for the grammatical mismatch of a feminine Latin noun with a neuter adjective, but maybe someone who’s up on botanical grammar can enlighten me.

Grammar aside, Cape May is a large shrub with needle-like leaves that is native to coastal regions of South Africa. Pictures of the bush look a lot like a large rosemary plant. When they bloom, they are covered with a proliferation of white flowers that look very much like strawberry blossoms. Apparently it’s a favorite shrub for bonsai and topiary, lending itself to pot culture as well as trimming and shaping. Writing this has made me want one.

But the oil! As soon as I put it on a strip to test, the whole room filled with the most wonderful sweet, fruity sillage. It’s like nothing else I’ve ever smelled. Close up it has a bit of a camphorous, herbal, foody note, but even when my nose is right up next to it, it’s accompanied by the fruity smell, almost like taffy, but better. If I had to characterize the fruit notes, I’d say they’re like a fair amount of fresh blueberry, a little fresh guava, and something else fruity but unique. Of course I immediately got all excited about basing an all-natural perfume on cape may, but my enthusiasm was dampened a little when I discovered that the fruity sillage is a top note that doesn’t last all that long, drying down to an herbal, camphorous base that is also fairly short-lived. In the end, I don’t think I can build a fragrance around cape may, but, it will still be an interesting top-note addition to one of my all-natural fragrances

As usual, I’m offering a sample of this oil to one reader who leaves a comment saying what your favorite fruity perfume notes are. The random drawing will be on Sunday, June 3.

[Plant photos from Wilimedia]