Male Perspective 18 May 2006

Most men seem to consider the word ‘perfume’ too feminine a term and would be loathed to speak it, let alone admit that’s what’s really in their 8 year old bottle of Old Spice in the medicine cabinet. Call it cologne if it makes you feel better, but frankly the scent range for masculine perfume is drastically limited. The few who manage to give up on Axe tend to come to a dead stop on Patchouli, wearing nothing but. I’m a huge fan of Patchouli, I even have 17 year old antique Patchouli I covet, but understand smelling entirely of fresh dirt only goes so far. For fear of emasculation most males want to stay as far away from floral scents as is possible, but certain florals, such as Blue Tansy ( a pungent almost candied scent, quite potent) can alter the overall effect of the perfume drastically, and often, positively. I’m somewhat married to a biblical oldie-but-goodie of Frankincense and Myrrh in a respective ~3:2 part blend. Sometimes I’ll break out of my shell and use the aforementioned Blue Tansy with Clove Bud and my coveted antique Patchouli in a ~1:2:3 blend. Another few blends I’ve arranged somewhat randomly include: Blood Orange, Frankincense, Patchouli and Sandalwood (yes I use mine, no I’m not PC); Pink Pepper, Lemon, and Buddhawood; and Sandalwood, Lavender and Bergamot. Typically my perfuming intent is to mismatch differing scents for that exciting unknown, to find the unexplored paths of scent and crash through the underbrush speeding. Most of my blends tend to be a bit too much for most, though hey do attract one or two individuals, usually peculiar ones, but they find an appreciative soul nonetheless. Perhaps my scent preference is most influenced by my previous dabbling in creating resin and herb incense. I would crush up a bit of hard amber into a gritty dust and mix in oils with semi-solid resins like Myrrh, Frankincense and Copal. The variety of Copal: White, Golden, Black and from all reaches of the globe entranced me on most nights upon entering my apartment one is greeted by the heady aroma and pluming, thick smoke of sizzling Copal. With essential oils only the strong survive: the most aromatic of the trees, spics that grab at the senses and take hold, pungent citrus from bitter nose-scrunching Lemon to sweet and uplifting Mandarin Red and Blood Orange; the more each individual oils vies for attention, the better in my regard. I’ll often find adding a few drops of White Camphor to a blend will affect certain notes, making them almost pop out and linger a moment. Of course, having such a haphazard methodology in blending, sometimes my mixtures turn out to be not nearly as pleasing as originally intended. These blends typically get shelved for a time to give the oils a chance to mix and change, often with better results weeks later in blending newer scents with old. The only oil I’ve acquired and have yet to find an acceptable blend for is Lantana from Madagascar, which smells so awfully close to bread and butter pickles there seems little hope in blending it amiable with anything. Currently my perfumer’s kit contains some twenty-odd oils, rudimentary, but far from limited in variety of blendable aromas. Perfumery is an extremely personal art; even those who produce scents for sale must make something they themselves enjoy. Just as I reflect my creative individuality in my poetry, that same essential intent comes out in both the incense and oil blends I create. Enigmatic, unique, and indefinable would best describe the results of my artistic endeavours, with a stylish flair that is strictly personal. The male ego is one of the universe’s necessary evils, and containing one of the largest myself, I seek to bring understanding to the hubris intrinsic with my gender. We’re bold breast; our words, style, scent and effect should reflect that, and within perfumery I hope to bottle that boldness and help to define and make accessible my tragically simple gender.

David