Thank you, thank you, thank you for everything. Thank you so much.
I took this picture of my vanity tray in December, maybe earlier, because I thought the light was pretty and it conveniently highlighted my favorite perfume. At the time, I thought I had discovered my “signature scent,” which I put down as a life list goal years ago. It sat around in my photo library because I had serious doubts when it came to writing about the perfume my husband bought me on his first out of town business trip 6 months earlier.
Today, though, I’m feeling like writing something frivolous and shallow. Bonus points because I can finally say I have one perfume. A signature scent, thankyouverymuch.
Like I said, this perfume was a gift from my husband. It’s Diptyque Do Son, and when I first opened it I had reservations. I’m particular about my perfumes, and in the past my husband favored fragrances with amber, sandalwood, and pretty much everything I despise. Amber is only good for gnat repellent.
Newsflash: most of the world disagrees with me. Amber and sandalwood–and anything that smells fruity/brown sugary/warm–remain the top notes in perfumery.
I like rose, tuberose, almost all florals except honeysuckle and lilac, baby powder, orange, and most herbaceous scents that form “clean florals.” Anything vanilla, warm, spicy, fruity, or rich will give me a migraine. I will never burn a candle that smells like a baked good. No way, no how.
Again, I know I’m in the minority.
When I first sprayed Do Son, I thought it smelled like an all-natural bug spray. The dry down was better, thank goodness, so I started wearing it regularly. I started to really like it, but even then I wasn’t thinking it was Holy Grail perfume level until I started getting asked what perfume I was wearing. Like a TV commercial people were all gee, your skin smells nice! (No they weren’t.)
People who have asked me about my perfume:
- A doctor (not mine) stopped me in a hallway to ask what I was wearing and asked me to leave the name at the front desk
- Many of the female students
- A woman in church during the school honor roll ceremony
- My tax preparer
- Several parents at school
- My mother in-law and sister in-law
- A couple of the teachers at school
- Coaches at the boys’ swim practice
- Random people at Michael’s, The 99 Cent Only Store, Trader Joe’s, and Stater Bros
What people think about your perfume doesn’t matter if you don’t like it, but I love this perfume because I can’t really smell it on me. I know that sounds pointless, but if you get migraines, you know what I’m trying to say. You want a perfume that smells nice but isn’t so powerful that you end up walking around in a cloud.
Basically, it boils down to how a perfume reacts with your skin, and I think this one reacts well enough that people notice, but not so well that it’s all I can smell. Works for me! Garnier BB Cream, which I love, is like this. Many people complain about the smell of the Garnier product line, and that they can “smell their face” all day long. I love the smell of Garnier products, but even if I didn’t, the smell doesn’t last 10 seconds on me before it dissipates–at least in my mind.
So. Favorite perfume: CHECK! The Mister is so pleased with himself, he can’t even handle it. I think he’s going to hang on to this victory for a long, long time. When I asked him why he picked Do Son, he just shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t know. I thought it smelled like you.”
That’s as deep as it gets, folks.
I checked out the notes for Do Son while I was writing this post to see if it contained any of the scents I like. Yeah, it’s no wonder I love it.
Do Son is inspired directly from Yves Coueslant’s childhood in Vietnam, where he grew up in Ha�phong, a port in Northern Indo-China. Not far from there, in the little seaside resort of Do Son, his father had a pagoda built by the sea to go to and enjoy the sea air at the end of the day.
Do Son recalls the memory of this place where flower fragrances dominate, in particular the tuberose, whose scent his mother particularly loves. In Do Son, the tuberose and Turkish rose bouquet expresses a sweet flavour freshened up with the orange blossom leaf and the rose berries. The white musk and the iris add a delicately powdered aspect to it. [link]
Wow! That is a lot of people who have asked about your perfume, it must be doing something good! (No-one ever asks me about what I wear!)
I just thought the exact same thing…
Right? Never, ever, ever have I had so many comments on a perfume. I think it reacts well with my skin or something because in the bottle it doesn’t smell that unique or special. It smells great to me because it has all the scents I like, but it’s not some revolutionary scent.
“Amber is only good for gnat repellent” A-MEN.
I just had to comment to let you know you are not alone in disliking those scents – anything described as “warm” just makes me cringe. While I’m lucky enough not to get migraines, if I did, I imagine they would be triggered by those scents. I’ll have to look into this perfume, it sounds just about right!
It sounds wonderful – and I think “it just smelled like you” is actually one of the sweetest things ever. :) Much better than “I liked it.”
As a fellow migraine sufferer, I have the exact opposite thing. I love the smell of the florals in theory, but I cannot have them on or in my vicinity for anything more than a hot second. They make my face burn (like my skin actually feels like it’s all tingly if I even walk through a strong floral perfume) whereas the ‘warm’ scents don’t bother me (unless someone has bathed themselves in it.. but that’s anything. Don’t get me started on Older Men and their aftershave. AHEM). All that being said, I’m going to have to go out and smell this fragrance because I’m intrigued (even if I can’t wear it myself). Lastly, I found my ‘signature scent’ to be… da da daaaaa… Coppertone sunscreen. I must be cheap and easy ; )
“It just smelled like you.”
Instant warmed heart and smile. That is such an obliviously sweet and loving thing to say to someone.
The description of your perfume sounds lovely. I love rose & tuberose. I wear Stella by Stella McCartney, which does have amber buried under rose & other florals, but I don’t think I could recognize what amber smells like on it’s own.
I do remember having a very florally perfume once that I love & thought smelled summery–until my mother got into the car & said ‘”Who sprayed bug spray?”
My hairdresser, who is also sensitive to smells (even hairspray), says Shalimar is the only perfume that doesn’t give her a headache. The description of it sounds like it would give me a headache, but it seems to be popular online with people who are sensitive to smells.
That is so sweet that your husband even thought to buy you perfume. My husband might buy something I have worn in the past (which can be a problem, because unless it’s Stella, I’m fickle) but he would never voluntarily sniff new scents with me in mind. But he also has to run past any Yankee Candle store, because even the scent wafting though the door is too much for him.
Ha! I laughed way too hard at your funny quips in this post. I loved your frivolity…(you deserve it) I have yet to find my signature scent. I recently received perfume as a hostess gift. I smelled it, I liked it! Excited, I spritzed myself the next morning….my husband told me I smelled like a “red poptart”…hhhh….back to the drawing board.
:)
Very cool! I’d love to have a signature scent, but have accepted that I’m something of a perfume slut. I like a lot of ’em a whole lot; I have about 5-6 that I rotate through. The description of yours sounds intriguing, esp. the “orange blossom leaf” part.
How flattering to be stopped in the hall and have the request made to leave the name at the front desk. That is a sincere compliment.
Yesterday, I read what you wrote and cried. Today, I laughed. And I have to say that while I’m sure you smell divine, I would absolutely hate to wear that perfume! We are fragrance opposites, my friend.
I read your blog for some time now but I think this is my first comment.
I would love to have a signature scent but am still looking for it. I followed your link back to your life list and found some points you should strike like the kids bedspreads.
Love your blog and definitely need to make a life list!
Scents are my Kryptonite too: I can’t do malls or a lot of functions in close quarters because I will get nauseous and headachy. I have been known to get up and move at church when someone with a strong cologne sits in my vicinity (Nausea and headaches can really quench the worship experience.) So I’ve been very very diligent about finding the right scent. I used Fragrantica (qu0ted below) to give me the different layers of the perfumes I’ve had success with:
My current scent is Zents Ore: Top notes: coriander and orris root. Heart: violet and jasmine. Base: sandalwood, patchouli and laurel.
I used to wear Nina Ricci L’air du Temps: Top note: carnation. bergamot and rosewood support the development of the carnation theme, refined with the notes of rose and jasmine. Violet and iris give a powdery nuance, and create a harmony with the woodsy notes of cedar and sandal, while sensual musk and amber add the final feminine accord to the composition.
And for very special occasions, Chanel #5: Top notes: bergamot, lemon, neroli and ylang-ylang, the heart of jasmine, rose, lily of the valley and iris, while the base is created of vetiver, sandalwood, vanilla, amber and patchouli.
Seems my perfect perfume includes sandalwood, jasmine, iris, and violet with some rose, amber, and patchouli.
But the perfume I got the most compliments on (similar to your experience) was Avon’s Zany from 1980 or so. It was a Love’s Baby Soft clone, and if I had a dollar for every time a guy stopped me I would be rich (and would have had a lot more dates :D )