The word ‘perfume’ comes from the Latin ‘per’ ( through) and ‘fumar’ ( to smoke). So, ‘from the smoke’.
Scent arrives in our brains unmediated by consciousness. We respond before we know it. Since ancient times, humans have enjoyed rubbing fragrant substances into our skin and scent has been an important part of our awareness of the world around us , engaging us with the environment and each other. Scent forms a large part of how we ‘know’ people, places and experiences and shapes our memories. Scent speaks to our imagination and emotions, is intangible and transitory, brings us pleasure, medicine, shapes our rituals and guides our behaviour.
Perhaps the earliest purposeful use of scent was creating incense by burning oak moss lichen (which usually grows on oak trees), or resinous gummy woods such as frankincense, cedar, and benzoin (from Styrax sp). Oils, gums, balsams, and resins of plant origin that are used in
perfumery and incense are derived from the internal plant tissues of trees, fruits, lichens, seeds, roots, flowers and grasses. Sometimes the resin may derive from fossilised material (eg, copal ), or may simply trickle to the ground from the stem, twigs and fruits. The orange tree, Citrus
aurantium, for example, yields 4 distinct essential oils: orange ( from the fruit), petitgrain ( from the twigs and leaves), orange blossom and neroli (both extracted from flowers using different methods). Continuing experimentation with different extraction methods has led to many refined aromatic compounds from plants.
There is an overlap between herbal medicine and perfumery. For example, Balsam of Peru (from Myroxylum pereirae) is antiseptic for wounds and lungs, as well as being an excellent fixative. It has a scent reminiscent of vanilla and is used as a stimulant, expectorant, and in heavy and sweet perfumes and other aromatic preparations. The antimicrobial qualities of many aromatic herbs is well documented (think thyme, juniper, myrrh, pelargonium sp), the essential oils being complex cocktails of organic compounds.
Earliest records suggest Egyptian priests made incense and unguents for embalming and death rituals, while the Persian physician Avicenna (980-1037 CE) is thought to have perfected the distillation process by which essential oils are made. All ancient civilisations used oils therapeutically.
Curiosity and conquest drove the pursuit of lucrative trade routes and the quest for the exotic and healing substances, bringing wondrous stories, and substances such as cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, costus, frankincense and benzoin from faraway countries. Sources and formulas were often kept secret to enhance the sense of mystery and magic that often accompanies perfumery, involving complex extraction techniques and arcane blending.
The world of perfumery evolved into an ancient and mystical artisan craft, and took shape as a business in the C16th, emerging partly from the glove industry (perfumed gloves were very popular in C16th France). Between 1500 and 1730, the range of distilled oils available was rapidly expanded. In 1709, Italian perfumer Giovanni Maria Farina used Lavender and citrus oils in his ‘Eau de Cologne’ ( his hometown), and used their shop’s number, 4711, for their famous and enduring brand of scent. Perfume shops were opened for the public: ‘Ye old civet cat’ opened in London in the 1730s, and René ( Catherine de Medici’s perfumer) opened one in Paris. In the C19th, Jaques Passy developed the enfleurage technique for harnessing delicate fragrances such as jasmine, orange blossom, tuberose and other florals. Then, in 1889, Guerlain used synthetic elements in ‘Jicky’, aided by William Perkin’s synthetic coumarin ( the scent of new mown hay) in 1868, which led to artificial musk, rose and jasmine. In the early 1900s, the perfect partnering of Coty with Lalique presented artificial scents in beautiful glass bottles, & popularised perfumes by making them affordable. Synthetics were cheaper, more reliable and affordable, uniform and lasted longer than some natural scents.
The poetic alchemy of the perfumer, endowed with the myths and magic of the plants they originated from, became chemicals manufactured in a lab. Many of the wonderful qualities of natural scents disappeared with that change. Natural scents evolve in real time, on the skin, changing and responding, interacting with each of us differently. They are interesting and evocative. Synthetics are static, do not evolve, and are far less mysterious. There is no nuance.
Herbalists are ideally placed to make natural perfumes: we are immersed in plants, we have intuition that has grown out of knowledge, experiments, thought and meditation.
Scent anchors us within the body in the present moment, inviting to return to the body, here, at any time, and the senses, and not get caught up in thought patterns. We are mindful, in the moment. We can use scent consciously to meditate and focus. Like music, it’s experiential; it grounds us.
When we experience a scent, it is like the first time, yet it also often stirs memories. Scent is like this, seemingly contradictory, yet harmonious. A scent can leave us longing for more, yet also sated.
I increasingly appreciate scent beyond the bounds of ‘a perfume’. The history of perfumery has been driven by making a commodity of it. (The perfume industry in the UK is purported to be worth £1.7 billion in 2021.) We can enrich our lives by cultivating our own appreciation of the scents around us, and the role of scent in our lives - in the home, the garden, the wild places, the weather, the sea, the city. I loved the smell of rain on asphalt. Everything is food for perfumery. Fragrance is primarily a personal experience. A walk in nature brings us thousands of odours - many impossible to replicate, such as petrichor ( the smell of rain), bluebells, and lily of the valley. The smell emanating from a living flower is so complex, it can never be harnessed, and in nature is different every time, and it is better in situ. We ‘inspire’ ( breathe in) and are inspired ( animated by a divine influence).
There are, after all, issues with preserving scents, including the use of solvents, sourcing, and organic, ethical and fair trade standards. I have become used to using my homegrown herbs for medicine, and found myself buying oils from faraway places, as these are wonderful fragrances, and often very expensive when buying ethically.
I like to work with infused oils that I’ve made myself, as I do with my herbal preparations. For example, I’ve worked with ground ivy, meadowsweet, elderflower and leaf, inula root, hedge woundwort, amongst others. I often use them as an infused oil base ( which you have to make yourself, so its unique to you!) and add blends of essential oils.
The language of perfumery is often mysterious and dense, but it's useful to remind ourselves that we can develop our own language to talk about scent. Terms such as heart, body and base notes within perfumes can be reframed in your own personal way - I like Alec Lawless’s suggestion of ‘heart, nuance and intrigue’ instead. Other systems assign basic qualities to smells, such as ‘ethereal, prickly, floral, minty, camphor, musk and rotten’. There are classic combinations in perfumes such as ‘chypre’ (bergamot, oak moss, patchouli and citrus) and ‘green’ (pine, juniper, fir, basil, sage, and rosemary), which can be used as starting points for your own explorations into the world of natural perfumery.
It is a wonderfully creative process to build your own perfume, and working with the many different qualities enhances each other. For example, the resinous ‘bases’ fix the heady citrus notes, and the different volatilities affect the unfolding of the scent on your skin. The intense and sticky patchouli or sandalwood extends the more delicate rose or bergamot. My favourite blend (so far!) is orange blossom, sandalwood and bergamot in a base of infused oil of elderflower. I put it in a 10ml roller ball bottle. I also love to make solid perfumes in lip balm tins, in a base of shea butter, jojoba oil and beeswax, adding essential oils as desired. It is endlessly creative - and addictive! Everyone is different, and each blend evolves in time so you find out what works best after a few weeks or months.
One of the delights of incorporating natural perfumery into my teaching is that it is totally pleasurable. There’s an air of excitement when people come to learn about and explore scent. Childhood memories of making flower petal ‘perfume’ in bottles are fondly recalled. It seems as if we have an innate urge to make scents and use them!
The important thing is that it is personal, and you can grow your own perfumes as well as your medicine! No experience necessary - come and play in the garden.
Many thanks to my sister herbalist Maggie Macmillan, who introduced me to the world of natural perfumery by recommending Mandy Aftel’s book, ‘Essence & Alchemy, a natural history of perfume’, to me many years ago.