Becoming a Perfumer

Imposter Syndrome and All

We planted more black tomatoes than anything else this year, and when they started to fruit I knew I’d want to make a crown with them. And maybe that’s a bit juvenile at this point, but it’s also something that made me happy. Like painting my corner NW-facing room entirely black- walls and ceiling. It’s where I sit every morning and each evening. It started as a writing room, and has also morphed into a perfume room. While I build this house, I notice my affinity for base notes. The woody, dark, resinous notes that linger longer, but don’t project as loudly. And maybe that’s metaphorical because just like black tomatoes and small black rooms there’s something comforting about what holds us in the moodier, quiet moments…what fruits as the light gets dimmer. What makes you lean in closer. What remains- what stays after the initial sparkle fades. The tighter web, the stubborn flame. I have a lot to say about my apothecary and the garden and how lovely they are to join me together for what comes next.

But first…

I have a confession. 

I can’t really say I like perfume. I’ve never been one to wear perfume regularly, I don’t collect it, I don’t seek it out. And I think this causes some imposter syndrome in me. As someone who makes perfume, and has to some extent for over a decade- it’s strange to analyze my complex relationship with scent and reconcile some of it. So here’s my go at that!

I LOVE scent. But I don’t like most perfumes. If I’m in an airport, I avoid the duty-free perfume sections at all costs. It makes me physically ill. I remember when I was young and my friends and I would pour over older sister’s magazines, those perfume inserts gave me headaches.  I’ve had to switch seats on a number of flights because of how doused in fragrance other passengers are. In my opinion, there should be a scent measuring booth that you have to enter before being allowed to be in a tight public area. There have even been times in my own perfume room over the last few months that I’ve had to completely air it out- windows open in the dead of winter- because of how some of the aroma molecules were mixing with others- causing that sick feeling in my stomach. 

Growing up, I lived a very fragrance-free life because my mother was “allergic” to fragrance. I put that in quotes, because with what I know now, I realize that fragrance load, specific molecules, and the quality of a fragrance can all have an impact on people’s levels of tolerance for fragrances in general. But even if a guest brought fresh flowers as a host gift, we generally had to keep them in a different room than my mother was in because of her sensitivity. 

Over the course of my nearly four decades of life, there are specific scents that I can now look back and see make up a constellation of my journey/love/fascination with scent. They are few and far between. But they are most certainly there. Some are scent memories that I can still conjure up, others are actual perfumes that I was able to trace. When these crossed my path, I would buy the perfume after getting too many samples from Sephora or the niche perfume boutique they came from. I rarely wore them. I’d simply enjoy sniffing them. 

When I started my apothecary 11 years ago, my affinity for scent became more liberated because I started formulating blends with pure essential oils. This felt good and true to my lane- something natural- therapeutic, even. They had purpose along with olfactory pleasure. But honestly, along the way, I often wished I could dive deeper into scent as artistry. I wanted more complex, longer lasting fragrances. I wanted a bigger palette to play with. But I was consumed by the rest of my work, and the sort of unspoken commitment to keeping everything super pure. In my mind, and for all I knew at the time…essential oils were it.

However, when I was approached for a project in February, a whole new world came open to me. I wanted to do this project justice, I wanted the scent I formulated for The Swell Season to be something more. As I dove head first into a hyper fixation that has taken over my whole life, I hungrily learned a lot very quickly. Some of what I learned revolutionized my previously held beliefs about what perfume even is. What I knew up until then, was that there were natural perfumes (essential oil or absolute-based) and synthetic perfumes (everything else). What I learned was that the world of scent is vast and nuanced. There are natural raw materials that can be irritants or even toxic. There are synthetic materials that can be perfectly safe and tolerated, even by the most sensitive noses. Each essential oil is made up of hundreds, if not thousands of aroma molecules. With the invention of modern perfumery starting in the 1800’s, we were able to analyze and isolate each of these molecules. And slowly, we were able to replicate them. When I used to think of synthetic fragrances and my aversion to them, it was because I’d often describe that as smelling “chemically,” but now I know that each aroma molecule is actually a chemical. Whether linalool is isolated and derived from a rose, or replicated exactly in a lab, they are both chemicals. 

I learned more about why fragrance oils- the components often used in scented candles- always felt “off” to me. I also learned why my essential oil candles needed so much essential oil to have any scent, and why the throw wasn’t as powerful as most scented candles you find at markets. The reason is, essential oils are the most volatile form of aroma materials. They are potent, but they fade quickly. This is also why most natural perfume needs to be reapplied often. And many struggle to come through under heat. Fragrance oils, on the other hand, are composed of any variety of aroma materials- largely synthetic, likely with fillers- and have much stronger scent throw. They are formulated by perfumers who are specifically formulating them for their ability to perform well in hot wax. But you may notice that a candle that says it’s a lilac candle, doesn’t actually smell like lilac. When I went into this deep study, I ordered a bunch of fragrance oils. Some smelled nice, many smelled awful, but none of them smelled true to their description. I wanted to make a “fragrance oil” that smelled real, and that is how I stumbled behind the curtain of how perfume is made. 

Fast forward to now, I’ve accumulated 100’s of aroma molecules. Sitting in my room with dilutions and blotters and formulas in process has become a bit of a life line. The amount of curiosity and inspiration and stubborn play this has brought to my days is an incredible gift. The Swell Season scent, Thread the Light- which is my first official perfume to be released- sold out on the first leg of tour and I’ve received such beautiful feedback about it. For an artist date recently, I went into a few shops to smell perfume. It was amazing to notice how much I’ve learned by how much I was able to identify what I was smelling. But still— there are very few that captivate me in a way that would make me want to have it in a bottle, let alone to wear it on my skin. 

My imposter syndrome hits because in the fragrance Tiktok world of it all, there are creators who have huge collections of perfumes, and speak about them in such depth and analysis. I don’t have a perfume collection at all! They’re well-studied in a way I am not, in a way I don’t really even want to be. I’ve always been more interested in creating from a place of my own heart and dreams, instead of letting other ideas influence mine. But when I think about other areas of creativity like writing, I ask myself, “is it possible to be a good writer if you don’t love reading books?” Then I try to tell myself that this is an imperfect analogy because while learning the materials and ways they combine and synthesize is critical for learning the art of perfumery, consuming a whole bunch of it really isn’t a prerequisite to being able to make something beautiful.

This is what I’m telling myself as I begin the process of building my new niche perfume house. This house is built with a strong affinity for natural materials. For scents that make you want to lean in closer and hug a little longer, instead of shouting into a room and smothering you with its presence. This house is built from my story, my unique life experience, my relationships to plants and people, my scent memory and how they gently meet your own. I can’t wait to share more about all this with you!