There is a principle in cognitive psychologyaccording to which humans always try to find a reason or an explanation for their own behaviour (some spend more time trying to explain the behaviour of others, but that’s another story). When a behaviour does not have an explanation in the tangible environment, we try to find an internal reason for our behaviours.

It has long been my practice to make careful rather than impulsive purchasing decisions when it comes to perfume. A perfume bottle sitting on the shelf unsmelled and unworn is like an orphan child waiting for adoption. To avoid this unsettling scenario of feeling obligated to wear a perfume just because it’s there, I have developed a golden rule that never failed me until now: I only purchase a perfume if I find myself daydreaming about it after I empty a sample of it.

This worked great until I found myself using up more than two samples of Narciso Rodriguez, and while denying any affection to it find myself trying it on almost every time I visit a store that carries it. I could probably be held accountable for justifying the production of at least 4ml of this juice, but still I refuse to put either money or words to explain such a bizarre behaviour!

There is something unsettling about Narciso Rodriguez. It is obscure and unstable. The first time I smelled it I thought it was an extremely heady floral scent; It left impression of artificial gardenia, or perhaps it was a trick of my imagination, as I was expecting it to smell like narcissus – or at least something close. How naive of me! A few other times it was just so barely there I could hardly smell it (carrying on the musk and anosmia theme here), but a few hours later it grew warm and strong and the little ribbon was enough to scent the whole living room. One time I thought I like it so much that I sprayed so much on I ended up with a terrible headache and swore to never wear it again…Recently, I smell in it a faintly sweet floral opening, reminiscent of orange blossom and slightly sweet and warm citrus honey. This quickly fades into a more woody floral accord, and finally warms into a subtle skin-like musk, with a very close to the skin dry down. In any case, it does have the tendency to grow on fabrics better than the skin – and make them smell like they just came out of the drier… When that happens I seriously consider adding Narciso to the category of comfort scents that are obscure, overtly synthetic and sensually aloof (next to Tocade and l'Eau d'Issey). Perhaps I am intrigued by the unstable and indecisive, sitting-on-the-fence mind frame, and that is why I find myself obsessed with this perfume. I

If I was a cognitive psychologist, I would conclude – I wear it because I like it. I prefer to stick to my golden rule, only this time – if I finish the mini bottle that just arrived from e-Bay today, and still try to figure out Narciso Rodriguez – I will commit to buy a 100ml EDT bottle for the full retail price at Holt Renfrew crew who have been very patient...

*Photograph of Mariko Tanabe's Narcisse en silence

Of late, I have found myself mysteriously fascinated by obscure notes, notes that often meet with anosmia when they arrive at the olfactory headquarters of even the great noses in the industry: musk and iris.

Distinct yet soft and unreachable, these notes have a long history of seduction, while at the same time can be very clean, polite and proper, their subtlety and vagueness interpreted as a virtue of humble and quiet shyness.


Although musk deers are now farmed rather than hunted, their musk pouch surgically removed as to not end their lives while being robbed of their scent, it is very hard to procure as it is rare as well as illegal in most countries, and raises many ethical questions in the natural perfume community. Vegetale musks are the alternative to both synthetic musk and true musk, they are notes that of botanical origin rather than from the endangered Musk Deer. Ambrette seed can be a substitute on its own for its delicate, light and subtle musky aroma; other darker oils and absolutes are used for a more intense animalic musk accord - costus, opoponax, vetiver, patchouli, labdanum, tobacco, sandalwood and more.

Ambrette Seed
Known as the best musk substitute from the plant world, Ambrette seed comes from the seeds of a hibiscus species. It has a very soft, delicately sweet, vaguely woody and very much reminiscent of human skin. It is available as an oil, absolute and co2 extraction. The oil may be much stronger, sharp in an almost harsh way, and animalic. Perhaps this is due to other plant parts that sneak into this type of distillation which makes it so different than the absolute and CO2. The latter being very soft and even slightly powdery and woodier and quite similar to the absolute. The absolute is the sweetest of all and has a very subtle aroma that is oily and slightly vinegar-like (some refer to it as wine like, but to me it is much like apple cider vinegar!). Once matured, ambrette absolute becomes sweet and floral and musky in the most subtle and sublime manner. Ambrette seed is used as a light musk base for delicate floras, where it will support them gently without taking away from their cheerful lightness (as in Tamya and Rosebud). It also serves as an accessory note in oriental perfumes, where is adds a musky odor to the base. The essential oil’s intense animalistic character and forceful silage makes it a perfect companion in leathery, tobacco and other smoky compositions (such as Espionage).

Costus Root
Next to ambrette seed, costus root is another extremely important vegetale-musk. It is darker than Ambrette, with a fatty skin like undertones, reminiscent of goats, wet puppies or the subtle yet distinct scent of the scalp. When aged for a year or more, it has a sweeter aroma with rosy undertones. It is one of my most favourite notes ever – I loved the goats when I grew up and found their adventurous and energetic character quite inspiring. Unfortunately, costus was recently declared a skin sensitizer. I use it in my original formula for Espionage, which happen to be my signature perfume – there, along with ambrette, vanilla, tonka and opoponax it creates a skin-like musky-vanilla foundation adorned with only minimal amounts of orris, rose, jasmine and cedar.

Opoponax
Also known as Sweet Myrrh, Opoponax is a relative of myrrh, only sweeter and softer. It is sweet, balsamic, spicy, warm, musky. It is invaluable in oriental bases, and lends a musky and powdery base. When used in minute amounts, especially along with other musky or animalic notes, opoponax lends a soft, powdery, subtly animalic character to the perfume (as in Espionage mentioned above). However, it can also be used in larger quantities as a resinous, sweet, honeyed, animalic base - especially when paired with other resinous-incense notes such as frankincense, cedar, myrrh, sandalwood, honey, spices or narcotic florals (as in Epice Sauvage, Opium and Poison).

*Musk deer image courtesy of Alchemy Works
**Next time in this series: orris root