Modern Trends in Perfume: Part II – Sweat, Genitalia, Dirty Sex & Decay

Earlier, in Part I, I covered the super-sweet and gourmand categories of perfumes that are currently popular on the market. Perhaps as a backlash to those scents, some designers have sought to go in a polar opposite direction. I’m not quite sure how to characterize the varying scents in this group or groups, so I’ll simply call them the Extreme Eccentrics.

The perfumes range from scents which seek to replicate post-coitus … er… muskiness, to armpit body odor to (allegedly) unwashed female genitalia or semen. Even decay and decomposition. No, I’m not joking. I understand everyone’s body chemistry differs, but not when a perfume is *intentionally* made to smell like that. I also understand the interest in the scent of sex and the impact of pheromones. But when a scent’s after-effects have been compared to “canned tuna and urine,” and when you specifically tell your perfumer/composer that you want the smell of female genitalia (washed or unwashed is unknown), then perhaps you’re taking your brand’s famous eccentricity to really extreme levels. Vivienne Westwood’s famous (infamous?) Boudoir is one of the perfumes in question here. According to some, she specifically wanted the perfume to have a note resembling that of a woman’s private parts. And, it seems the perfumer succeeded. In fact, a large number of people seem to adore the scent – though almost all its fans admit they wouldn’t dare wear it to work and that it needs to be (as the name suggests) restricted to the boudoir. A proper, in-depth description of Boudoir can be found here.

Alexander McQueen’s Kingdom (discontinued after his death) is slightly different. Like Boudoir, descriptions of the perfume seem to imply that it too falls under the “sweatiest of skanky, dirty sex” category. But there is another added element: body odor. Kingdom has cumin in it and cumin has a tendency, in strong doses, to smell like bad B.O.  (Personally, I think cumin smells like revoltingly dirty socks combined with bad armpit sweat. No, I’m not a fan.)

Now, I haven’t smelled either of these two in person (Kingdom is not easy to find nowadays), but I’ve read plenty on both and find the whole concept behind them fascinating. Both scents come from designers known for being cutting-edge, unconventional, eccentric, and avant-garde. Both are clearly representative of their designer’s aesthetic and ethos. But they are also both perfect examples of the rebellion against the more mainstream modern scents with their predominantly sweet characteristics.  They are also not alone. There are numerous perfumes and colognes out there that seek to emulate sex and post-sex muskiness in different degrees. It’s just that few have pushed it to the extremes of Boudoir and Kingdom.

Or have they? A 2008 article in the British paper, The Guardian, points out the intention of some perfumers, going all the way back to Jacques Guerlain in the early 20th century:

Jacques Guerlain – begetter of the scents Jicky, Shalimar and Mitsouko – observed that his perfumes should recall “the underside” of his mistress, while Tom Ford declared that he wanted his Black Orchid to smell “like a man’s crotch”. Such flights of fancy are known as “knicker scents” and conjure the vagina, semen, even the anus. […] Still more notoriously, Serge Lutens’ Ambre Sultan comprises a ripely resinous vegetal amber suggestive of female arousal.

Sperm-wise, we have Alan Cumming’s aptly named Cumming; Thierry Mugler’s Cologne with its carnal “S note”; and Sécrétions Magnifique by Etat Libre d’Orange, its packaging emblazoned with a spurting penis. The truly fixated should embrace Orgie, a graphic aroma created by Christoph Hornetz and Christophe Laudamiel as part of a 15-scent tribute to Süskind’s novel. An evocation of a copulating crowd, it positively spews semen. Those of a rear-ended persuasion, meanwhile, should consult Eau de Hermès, which revels in a certain sweat-spiced, masculine intimacy, while Roja Dove is proud that his “Roja Dove No 3” has a salty sensuality about its nether regions.

You might wonder how perfumers achieve such results. The Guardian article (linked to up above) explains:

Many of perfumery’s most venerable creations owe their sensuality to the use of animal ingredients with a certain “spray” element: civet, a faecal paste extracted from the anal glands of the civet cat; castoreum, a leathery emission from the genital scent sacs of the castor beaver; ambergris, a briny and vomitous by-product of the digestive system of sperm whales; and musk secreted from the sheath gland of the musk deer have all been popular perfume ingredients. Then things become still more complex: civet may be cut with hair or – brace yourself – infant excrement.

So, if you always wondered why that one perfume of yours smelled …. unpalatable…. to put it politely, baby poo and feline anal glands may be to blame. Or perhaps it’s something else, like the smell of rotting decay which the U.S. Department of Defense allegedly researched as a weapon of mass olfactory destruction. Okay, perhaps it didn’t go THAT far, but they certainly tried! It was part of another sub-set of scents in this Extreme Eccentrics group: perfumes that smelled of death and decomposition! From that same, incredibly fascinating article:

An American department of defence collaboration to devise non-toxic olfactory weaponry found the stench of decay to be more intolerable even than that of vomit or burned hair. A forerunner of such tactics, a putridly flatulent stink called Who Me?, was devised during the second world war to be used by the French Resistance (who else?) to humiliate fastidious Nazis. […] But the ultimate paean to decomposition is Laudamiel and Hornetz’s [2007 scent] Human Existence, a robustly repellent reek smacking of oral abscesses and vegetal decay. Apply to your wrist and you will desire only to hack it off.

Laudamiel was specifically influenced by Patrick Suskind’s fabulous, infamous, legendary and brilliant novel Perfume and its anti-hero, the scentless, Grenouille. It is a book I highly, HIGHLY recommend for all perfume addicts. Those who lack the time to read it may be interested to know that Grenouille’s ultimate and final perfume creation leads to an orgiastic explosion of excess and was made from the essence of 25 virgins. Laudamiel expressly sought to recreate the pivotal scenes from Perfume and the murderer’s scents, one by one, starting in 2000. (Without murdering anyone, I should hasten to add!!!) According to an informative N.Y. Times article on Laudamiel, he was assisted in his endeavour by a perfume scientist who “recruited two young female virgins and, with their parents’ permission, recorded their aroma using a polymer needle. Laudamiel found this scent on I.F.F.’s shelves, then added the scents Süskind describes as clinging to the virgin’s skin: apricot, nuts, sea breeze.” (See, “Smellbound.”) There has been no indication as to whether Laudamiel succeeded in his efforts to replicate Grenouille’s infamous and orgy-inducing fragrance….

Thankfully, most perfumers don’t go to such extremes. But niche perfume houses are increasingly pushing the envelope in order (in my opinion) to counter the avalanche of mass-market, generic Sugar Bomb and Gourmand perfumes on the market. There are no limits, no even the smell of human decay!

If all this has left you with the strong urge to take a shower or to cleanse yourself, then you’re in luck. Part III of this article will focus on the Clean/Fresh category of perfumes, along with the latest, popular trend of Aoud/Oud scents. I’ll add that link here when it is up. Stay tuned!

Modern Trends in Perfume – Part I: Sugar, Spice & Even More Sugar

Perfume is a subjective thing. Let’s get that out-of-the-way right now. Arguably, everything in life is subjective as reflected by Plato’s Cave. But perfume is especially intangible and personal since it depends on our individual body chemistry, our tastes, our olfactory memories of the world, and so much more. With that in mind, and with the awareness that a blog is all about the personal and subjective, here are what I see as the current trends in perfume: Sugar Bombs, Gourmands, Extreme Eccentrics, Clean/Fresh scents and, finally, the newest, super-popular trend which entails Aoud/Oud. For reasons of length, I’ll split up the discussion into three parts.

Sugar Bombs.  Viktor & Rolf’s Flowerbomb is supposed to be a white floral with patchouli. To me, it’s a revolting explosion of sugar. Sugared water. Diabetes in a bottle. I have little more to say on it because: a) I find it unworthy of verboseness and verbiage; and b) it’s too linear and one-dimensional for me to *have* much to say! I will grudgingly admit  that this enormously popular perfume is not to blame for the current state of sugar bombs on the market.

No, that honour goes to Thierry Mugler’s Angel. Angel is a polarizing scent with an abundance of enemies and fans. It’s been copied endlessly – something I’m extremely bitter about, if I might add. Angel is sweet, sweet and… well, you get the picture. Patchouli candy floss which one commentator compared to sweet vomit. For me, the biggest problem may be the incredibly synthetic nature of the scent. If you went to Whole Foods, for example, and checked out the natural oils, you would usually find a depth of flavour with nuances, varying degrees of potency and some richness. In contrast, synthetic perfumes have an almost sharp, sometimes metallic or burning, element to them. They can be chemically abrasive in a way. I remember spraying some of the reformulated Shalimar a few weeks back and there was an instant harshness to the opening notes. You can also see my review of Chanel’s Coco Noir — the opening notes of which triggered an almost burning sensation in my nose. (Yes, I sprayed a lot, but still! I spray a lot of most perfumes and don’t have that feeling unless there is something synthetic going on.) But going back to Thierry Mugler’s famous Angel. It’s a synthetic, cloying sweetness. There is nothing natural about it, as there would be if you went into a bakery shop redolent with chocolate, sugar, caramel and spices. No, Angel is just artificial, chemical sweetness. And it has triggered a virtual avalanche of sweet smells that have emulated it and sought to seize a piece of the lucrative perfume market.

The cloying twin sister of the Sugar Bomb scents are the Gourmands. They share similar characteristics, especially in that artificial nature, but I do see a difference. Gourmand scents are closer to pure desserts, often bringing in fruit and candy notes, almonds and chocolates in lieu of more floral elements. Don’t get me wrong, there is sugar throughout, but the sugar is not offset by white florals or by spicy notes such as the technically and theoretically “oriental” Angel.  There won’t be rose, jasmine, patchouli and musk but blackberries, melons, raspberries, caramel, licorice, chocolate and the like. Examples would be: Michael Germain’s Sugar Daddy & Sexual Sugar (no, I’m not making those names up!), Aquolina’s Pink Sugar or ChocoLovers, numerous Victoria Secret or Britney Spears scents (like her Fantasy), and yes, probably a good chunk of celebrity scents in general out there. I really don’t have much more to say on the subject. I’m not a fan and never will be. I’ve blocked out as much of the scents from my memory banks as I can from sheer trauma.

Going in the exact opposite direction are fragrances which I will call the Extreme Eccentrics and which specifically seek to replicate or emulate the scent of genitalia, sweat, dirty sex and decay. That will be one LONG discussion, so I’ll focus on those scents in Part II here, while Part III will address yet another polar extreme, the Clean/Fresh category of fragrances that are currently  popular on the market.