This week, a woman walked past me wearing Aromatics Elixer. I knew it immediately. One of Clinique’s watermark scents. Long before the cosmetic magnates asked us to do the impossible, just be ‘Happy’, they bottled a puke-yellow melange, one that sprayed strong, and insured your presence was unignorable. A bold and efflorescent patchouli, paired with acute balsamics, it’s a perfume that stings the nostrils and burns the eyes. It sounds foul, but it’s actually one of my favourites.
Although I love it, I was quite surprised to smell it.
Not because few people wear Aromatics, and even fewer since 1996, but because no one has worn Aromatics since the Winter of 1996–and this is only fall. Argue you might, but I’ve always thought scent to be seasonal. When the cold comes, we swap sun-block for stockings, tank tops for tube socks, swimsuits for swing coats. It makes sense, then, to replace light, airy florals with Fougres and gourmands. Here are five winterized scents, designed to beat the freeze and keep you warm all day.
1. Le Labo, Vanille 44 ($225 for 50ml/$450 for 450ml at Gee Beauty, 2 Roxborough St.)
Only for the month of November, Gee Beauty will be selling this most coveted whiff of Paris. With vanilla, an unmistakable hint of mint at the top, and a few subtle notes of bergamot and mandarin just below, this fragrance is woody and transformative. It’s not a “smell me!” scent as much as it is a “did you smell me?” scent. Illusive and sophisticated, understated and sweet, Vanille 44 is perfect for the Snow Queen in disguise.
2. Cinnamon Bark, Demeter ($20 USD for 1 oz/$39.50 USD for 4 oz at Demeter’s online store)
They say that cinnamon really has no taste, only a smell. I’ve never tasted Demeter’s Cinnamon Bark, because eating perfume would be weird, but I have smelled it, and it’s like baking, raw earth, and frankincense. Demeter is known for bottling ‘essences’ rather than perfumes. No frills. No gimmicks. Just the most base essentia of that brown, powdery seasoning that we sprinkle on our Chai Lattes. The pure marrow of the spice. Reasonably priced and completely unfussy, Demeter’s Cinnamon Bark is the ideal scent for the anti-perfume personality, an easy, appurtenant spray for anyone looking to capture the season without the bells or whistles.
3. Jasmin Noir, Bvlgari ($84 at Sephora)
Winter florals are a trend on runways, and now, in scent. Jasmin Noir takes a drop of fleur, blends it with musk and wood, and completes it with a powdery finish. The black bottle, capped in gold, seems fancier than it really is; you can actually buy it at Sephora. Come sleet, snow or rain, the prevailing top notes stand strong on the skin.
4. Wild Bluebell, Jo Malone ($70 for 30ml/$125 for 100ml at Holt Renfrew, 55 Bloor St. W.)
This one is all about luxury. And if anyone knows luxury, it’s Jo. Her line of mix-and-match fragrances have, in the last few years, found themselves on the vanities of every blogger and socialite alike. With a thick, heady fragrance, bluebells are an easy choice when assembling a fall bouquet. You can smell lily and rose, too, but it’s the gingerbread that truly makes this work for the coming season.
5. Burning Leaves, CB I Hate Perfume ($80 for 100ml at Ruins, 960 Queen Street West)
When you think of fall, you think of leaves. Wet leaves. Dry leaves. Piles of leaves crunching beneath your shoes. And at night, leaves on fire. There’s something very distinct about the smell of burning leaves, and for many people, it wouldn’t be a scent that one would categorize as pleasant. However, anti-perfumer Christopher Brosius’ line of scents, I Hate Perfume, has done a bang-up job of taking otherwise unmemorable (or unlikable) smells, and turning them into wearable fragrances. “Not everyone has [a] passion for dead leaves” wrote Jane Austen in Sense & Sensibility. Maybe I’m of the minority, but I love the smell of rotting foliage, the ripe, almost sour scent of singed vegetation. Whether you are like Brosius, and “hate” perfume, or are like me, and can’t live without it, you’ll be surprised at how well this otherwise putrid fragrance translates to the skin.
Read “Scent of a Woman” for Carli Stephens Rothman’s in-depth look at the latest scent trends.
