Welcome back to Perfume Portraits, a series of interviews that shifts the focus from industry insiders to passionate fragheads. Each issue will feature answers to the same seven questions from people who share a deep love for perfumes. Here, they will reveal their personal stories, scent memories, and favourite fragrances, letting us into their olfactive experience.
Today, we introduce you to Marlene.
Marlene (@marlene.does) is a millennial tech professional living in New York. Beyond her tech career, she embraces her creative side with hobbies such as cosplay, crafting, and writing, bringing her passions to life in her free time.
First of all, what’s so special about perfumes for you?
The surface-level answer: it can be a very subtle and malleable form of self-expression. It's grown as I've grown, as my nose has matured, as my tastes have changed, as I've learned valuable life lessons.
The more honest answer: I am a greedy little goblin creature at heart. I like collecting things that make me happy. Smelly juice gives me dopamine.
The brutally honest answer: the online perfume-collecting community is probably one of the nicest I've ever encountered. Making friends as an adult who works from home is hard, but shared hobbies make it easier. The community around perfume is the special part that's given me the most joy, much more than the bottles themselves.
What was your first memorable experience with perfume?
The scent of "blue." It was soft, bright, citrusy, and maybe a little powdery in a very particular combination that, for some reason or other, was associated with the color blue in my brain for as long as I can remember.
I didn't think about it much, honestly, until a random day in 2019. My mind did that funny thing that minds sometimes do with long dormant memories: it spit out a perfectly crisp image of a plastic bottle with a spherical cap, unprompted, while I was chipping away at a work project. The bottle was blue.
I must have searched for hours online, but I did eventually find a match. After sacrificing a few bucks to Bezos and waiting a week, I had in my possession the scent of blue. When I was a toddler, my mother regularly dabbed me with baby cologne from a Spanish company called Para Mi Bebe— a common practice in the Latino community. The packaging had changed a little with time, but the scent had not. Getting a whiff of it as an adult felt like a nostalgic punch to the solar plexus. I could see the white, textured tiles of my childhood bathroom, the blue bottle sitting under the mirror, even my mom's arms while the rest of her sat out of frame.
I think that thing cost me about ten bucks. It's the jewel of my fragrance collection.
How do you choose a fragrance for different occasions or moods?
This is embarrassing. Okay. I have a... system. I have a little A5 notebook with pages that I custom-designed, printed, and hole-punched myself to create a sort of "fragrance diary." (And I made it available publicly for free, if anyone wants to do the same!) Whenever I try a new scent, I have designated spaces on the page to jot down its notes, how it makes me feel, what its sillage was like after multiple check-ins, etc.
I then transfer these details into an elaborate digital spreadsheet.
So, if I'm ever having trouble making a selection by memory alone, I just have to consult The Spreadsheet for a hint. I can search by notes, mood, concentration, you name it.
Is it a ridiculous and needlessly complicated approach to collecting fragrances?
Yes.
But you know a Millennial must really love something if she's willing to learn spreadsheet formulas for it.
How does your collection reflect your personality? Is there an underlying theme, or do you perhaps have different ‘characters’ you like to channel with different scents?
Someone once said I dress "like a Latina Ms. Frizzle," which is the highest compliment I think I've ever received. My fashion choices are colorful and eclectic— I like to think my fragrance collection is, too. It has no consistent theme other than "Marlene thinks this smells good," which can range from smelling like a very polite biker to a leather-clad witch in the woods. My fragrance locker is full of a delightful cast of characters that I can summon with a little spritz.
Oh! Okay, there is one theme, I lied. My favorite scent in the world is that of old, dusty, musty books. I spent a lot of time reading as a kid and most of my books were purchased from the local thrift store. That sweet, lignin note of deteriorating old paper is something I've chased for years. A good portion of my collection is dedicated to that hunt.
Is there a scent that holds special meaning to you? Why?
Yes! Rose. Follow me for a minute here, please.
In 2021, I visited a one-woman perfume business based out of Brooklyn. The perfumer is an absolute treasure who welcomed me into her home to create a bespoke fragrance. We sat in front of her perfume organ and she very patiently walked me through dozens and dozens of tiny bottles filled with liquid gold. She taught me to smell with my brain instead of my nose and that boxing myself into only what I thought I might enjoy was severely limiting.
I came into the session thinking I hated rose, for example; she noted my preference and we moved on. But, part way through creating my fragrance, we got stuck. Our work-in-progress was missing some sort of je ne sais quoi. She paused, looked at me, looked back at her organ, and stuck out her lip thoughtfully. A few seconds later, she held up a strip with a drop of mystery oil and told me to smell it alongside what we had so far. That subtle note worked perfectly to balance out the fragrance.
It was rose. The mystery oil was rose. I vowed to be more open-minded after that, and now I think about my own foolishness every time I smell rose.
How do you incorporate fragrances into your daily routine?
I actually don't wear fragrance every day! Blasphemy, I know. When I do wear it, which is decently often, it's usually when I'm experiencing a creative itch. Maybe I want the chance to try something new to break up the work day, so I'll whip out a sample and start the process of documenting my thoughts about it. Maybe I'm about to watch a movie and I want the fun mental exercise of matching media to fragrance. That sort of thing!
Finally, if you could change one thing about how fragrances are marketed today, what would it be and why?
If you had asked me a few months ago, I would have said that the entire concept of gendered fragrance marketing is frustrating and ridiculous. I do still find much of that true— the binary, often heteronormative and hyper-sexualized nature of the cosmetics/beauty industry is something I don't personally enjoy, and limiting fragrances to a certain gender expression seems like a poor choice both financially and societally.
That said, I read Alie's take from Pearfat recently and found it very eye-opening:
"We believe that gender plays a huge role in fragrance and expressing yourself - what that looks like (and smells like!) cannot be defined in marketing terms. Similarly, terms like 'gender neutral' can sometimes erase the experience of a beautifully feminine feeling, or a powerfully masculine olfactory expression, for someone who is learning about themselves through perfume."
So, if I could change how fragrances are marketed today, I guess I wouldn't just completely axe the gendered component. I would, instead, lean more into experimentation and self-expression— advertising a feeling more than an ideal.
Less, "this fragrance is what a traditionally attractive male celebrity wears and you definitely want to be like him. Look at how rich he is and how women fawn over him!"
More, "this fragrance might help you feel like the best version of yourself. Maybe it will give you the confidence to create amazing new memories. Maybe it will summon existing memories integral to your identity, like a fougère that reminds you of your first time with your dad at a barbershop— a classic male experience."
Thank you for reading! We hope you enjoyed Marlene’s journey as much as we did—it was truly precious. Stay tuned for more inspiring stories coming soon!
Costanza Sofia
Nunotes’ Founder