If I didn’t smell so good, would you still hug me?
Revisiting a former pastime, good smells I used to collect
Every man my age watched this movie – Pootie Tang – way too many times as a kid (I hope). The original binge and re-watch series(es) for me were: 1) Pootie Tang, 2) Shaft, and the South Park movie. Okay, where am I going with this? We’ll get there, but first, paying respect to the track that inspired the title –
You Smell Good.
The pinnacle of compliments. Depending on the day, those words could be better than an ‘I love you.’ Goes without saying, but it's quite literally better than being told the opposite. As a “grown adult,” you should absolutely treat this as trinary: #1 smelling bad, #2 smelling neutral (natural scent, which hopefully isn’t #1), and #3 smelling good (with intention). Friendly reminder, if you’re around your friend and they are #1-ing, you need to let them know, or you are a bad friend…with patient nostrils.
A ’you smell good’ lights up your day. It puts the pep in your step. When I was a teenager and quickly realized that using Axe was going to have me smelling like other guys, I quickly opted out of the locker room Dior Sauvage and sought out this thing right here –
I couldn’t tell you how I even obtained this because I did not buy it, that I know for a fact. Maybe took it off one of my older brothers, who knows. What I do know: you couldn’t tell me s*** when I was wearing this!
At some point toward the end of high school, I graduated to a new cologne, or at least that’s what it felt like. None other than…
…which was probably not a true graduation in the quality sense, but more a desire to be different from the crowd (“do the other thing,” as Max B said), a defining character trait of a young Javaun. From there, I could not tell you much of anything substantive about fragrances, go-tos, what I enjoyed wearing, etc., from the end of high school through the next decade onward. Which feels entirely normal for that duration of my life.
To be clear, I likely always had a standard ‘this or that’ fragrance because it’s embedded in me to never smell green/frowsy, as Jamaicans would say. So, I probably had a routine fragrance on the shelf that was no more interesting than the habitual application of deodorant or lotion. Just enough to make a nearby nostril go – "someone smells good in here."
And then, maybe 10 or so years later, I became a fragrance nut.
I don’t know what bug bit me. It could be a natural consequence of maturation, my gradual and growing desire to go deep into the things that feel remotely interesting to me, hence the books and rum bent of the publication. But I could not give you the exact developmental arc or pivotal point explaining how, 10 or so years later, I landed at a place where a lot of my leisure time (and MONEY) was spent diving deep into fragrance land. And that is the stuff of life that I particularly enjoy: things flirting with your memory neurons that you won’t ever be able to fully unpack, but it’s alluring enough for you to scratch your brain on it every now and again. Memories.
So, how passionate did I become about this stuff?
I had store employees of some major department stores text me when certain fragrances were in stock because I had an old-releases bent (note: if budget isn’t an issue, go direct to the fragrance house’s store…more interesting purchasing experience, in my opinion). As Clavish said on 100mph Freestyle x3 – “I got so much of it, my cousins think I’ve got a pattern with Celine.”
I would have friends visiting certain parts of the world pick up fragrances for me that would be too difficult to find in NY or stateside, generally.
I had an Excel file of fragrances categorized by everything from price, attributes, top/heart/base notes, when I’d purchase, and any other intriguing specifics about fragrances (note: I now have a very short Notion page of fragrances that interest me, haven’t kicked the habit completely).
I used to do what I currently do with books: you couldn’t stop me from purchasing smell goods if I walked into a store, the same way that (9 times out of 10) I’m buying a book if I step into a bookstore (note: this year is the only exception because I already have a very specific – rum – reading list). Don’t advise this mentality (for fragrances, in particular). Very expensive hobby.
I used to be great at blind-guessing someone’s fragrance based on a quick whiff, analogous to how I can blind-test rums now and do a decent job at guessing the country it’s from (completely exaggerating here, but roll with me).
In truth, I’m sure that the fragrance bent stemmed from a few things:
→ A new and alluring adult hobby – all adults should have them (!) – that I could pour into outside of the daily hustle.
→ A flirtation with whether or not I should pursue something “business-oriented” in the space (no sir-eeeeeee). Marrying hobbies and hustles is tempting, but try to keep certain things from falling prey to commercial interests unless it would be silly for you not to let the two intersect.
→ Another means by which to encourage socialization (with friends, strangers, etc.), which is 1) my jam and 2) the true nature of being your most human self.
At some point, naturally, I become the go-to for friends and acquaintances looking for smell goods.
Mainly the fellas, to be fair. My homegirls aren’t hitting me up for perfume recommendations. My guys, though, faithfully link me to help them secure something solid. Exhibit A –
I’ll clear a few things up:
I used to collect colognes, but I no longer do. Consumable alcohol – rum, primarily – now owns my mindshare and wallet…and is here to stay.
$150 for a ‘commands a room’ fragrance is definitely doable. Having friends who want things that command rooms is on-brand.
$1,000 on cologne is crazy, I can admit…whatever, I’ll leave it there…
…man, Amaffi is worth it, though…goodness gracious, their stuff smells good.
At some point, I was encouraged to start a blog, YouTube, or some type of medium to recommend things to people because “people would listen to me,” want to follow my recommendations, etc. I’ve never really found that all too appealing in the ‘how it happens today’ sense. I'm not opposed; it's just not an itch I’ve wanted to scratch. All bets are off if the fellas link me, though (for recommendations). I’ll play pretend store associate to make sure my guys get exactly what they need. So, in an effort to recommend in the traditional (ish) sense, I’ll share my personal 3 favorites that I own.
The Big 3 #norappers #noaccountants #noconsultants.
That was really bad, but I’m leaving the hashtags there. Below are my head turners. My neck grabbers. My command-a-room(ers). My conversation starters. My romantic vib(ers). My do-not-also-wear-this-if-we’re-around-each-other…(ers). That last one is very flagrant behavior. It’s why a lot of people (understandably) don’t like to share their personal go-to fragrance(s). Typically, the people who share a lot are those who own a ton of bottles. The chances of you wearing what they have (at the same time) are infinitely small. Okay, where was I? Here they are, listed in strength, stink-up-the-room – in the best way possible – order.
Note: I am no longer well adept at scent identification in the traditional sense (top, heart, base notes), but my scent preference leans stereotypically manly (musk, oud, woody, etc.). With that, I’ll share feedback on what it does/smells like for me, as well as the perfumer's professional olfactory notes.
#1 – Louis Vuitton’s Ombre Nomade.
Designed for lovers of rare essences, Ombre Nomade concentrates that sensation of infinity into one of the most mythical ingredients in perfumery, oud wood…Never has oud been so mystical.
Never say never. But they are correct – mystical, indeed!
Of all my bottles, this fragrance packs the most depth. I have literally received the feedback that people knew I arrived at a venue because they smelled this fragrance floating in the air. That’s how strong it is. Deep. Rich in essence. Ombre Nomade lingers and calls out to those around you. Unmistakably oud, unmistakably good. That was bad, my bad. Agarwood (oud/oudh, the Arabic name) is one of the most expensive and rare raw materials in the world. It’s been dubbed the Wood of Gods. I have no argument against that. Her attacking me when I wear this –
Source: CHUNKZ SINGS, FILLY CLARTS!! | Does The Shoe Fit? Season 4 Episode
Here’s the olfactory (“Key”) notes that LV shares on the fragrance:
Oud wood
Benzoin tears
Incense
Raspberry
Now on to…
#2 – Parfums de Marly’s Haltane.
Haltane is a fragrance for a gentleman of today… an original scent of both radiance and shadow…Its dazzling freshness and herbal top notes quickly yield a warm and smooth sense of leather with a symphony of precious woods. Soft and sweet, escorted by saffron, its praline accord is an ultra-contemporary spin on the mythical oudwood.
Unlike the Louis Vuitton fragrance, I was more familiar with the Parfums de Marly product portfolio. I previously owned Percival, which the brand describes as “a subtle balance of citrus and aromatic notes on a woody base, this eau de parfum exudes a fresh, sensual and refined scent…” It was very much a Spring-Summer default for me.
Haltane was gifted to me this year by my Delina-loving, chérie doudou. This one leans manly, for sure, in the traditional sense. Very woody, an elegant kind of rare raw material (similar to oudwood, unsurprisingly based on the quote above). This will be a fan favorite for the lover in your life. It exudes hug-me-all-day aromas. Inviting and long-lasting. Overall, a remarkable fragrance. My favorite of theirs at the moment (note: take that with a grain of salt since I no longer frequent stores to smell scents).
The Olfactory Pyramid as described by the company:
Top Notes: Bergamot, Lavender, Clary Sage
Heart Notes: Saffron, Cedarwood, Praline, Oudwood
Base Notes: Patchouli, Vetiver, Musk, Leather, Natural Agarwood
Expect lots of this when you wear Haltane –
And finally…
#3 – Arabian Oud’s Resala.
A warm fragrance featuring rich tonka beans and caramel, beautifully blended with the sweet, smooth aroma of Madagascar vanilla.
Like Haltane, I was familiar with (and owned) a different product – Madawi – before I purchased Resala. And it came to me in a poetic and organic manner:
→ A former classmate of mine from Saudi Arabia complimented me on whatever fragrance I was wearing that day. A Middle Eastern person telling you that you smell good…high praise, very high praise.
→ Had some back and forth, can’t remember the full content of the conversation, but at some point, I asked for a Saudi fragrance house recommendation, to which he responded, Arabian Oud.
→ I asked for a specific product recommendation, and he pointed me to Madawi
→ As I was nearing the end of the Madawi bottle, I intended to repurchase it (which I never did with fragrances; I liked it that much)…but then I came across the below video, and voila – Resala had to be my next Arabian Oud.
A few years back, I’d watch a few fragrance reviewers every now and again…Haven’t done that in years.
→ And that is how I became familiar with Arabian Oud (the brand) and Resala (the product).
The Arabian Oud product lineup easily has some of the best-designed bottles and packaging I’ve ever seen. Resala is way more unisex-leaning than the other two fragrances. It has this simultaneous fresh and deep chocolatey vanilla base that makes it a standout fragrance compared to others. It’s a flirtatious and flavorful product. Sexy, if we need a more direct way to describe this.
My friends, if you receive recommendations from Middle Eastern people on what fragrances to buy, you listen. They hold the crown, to me, for the best-smelling people I’ve come across. My Bahrain and Qatar trips are lingering on the memory bank.
There’s historical truth to why this is the case (to be fair). I just went back into one of my past publications, the first ½ of A History of the World in 6 Glasses, where I highlight the inventions of Arabs in the first distillation equipment to make perfume and alcohol (for medicinal purposes, but would later be used by Europeans for consumable purposes). I’ll drop the quick quote here for ease.
We can back up a bit (“fourth millennium BCE”) to see that northern Mesopotamian Ocks had simple distillation equipment that was likely used for making perfumes. And if you’ve ever stepped into a room full of Arabs, you know that smelling good is mundane for them…But it was only later, starting in the Arab world, that distillation was routinely applied to wine, notably by the eighth-century Arab scholar Jabir ibn Hayyan, who is remembered as one of the fathers of chemistry. He devised an improved form of distillation apparatus, or still, with which he and other Arab alchemists distilled wine and other substances for use in their experiments…the modern word alcohol illuminates the origins of distilled alcoholic drinks in the laboratories of Arab alchemists. It is descended from al-koh’l, the name given to the black powder of purified antimony, which was used as a cosmetic, to paint or stain the eyelids.
Today, popular opinion usually crowns the French and Italians as having the deepest, most historic relationships with fragrance and tradition. Historically, that doesn’t hold up when compared to the Arabs, who seem to be the originators of perfumery (and the requisite hardware) in the more modern sense. I’m sure we can look across many ancient societies (Africa, Asia, Natives in the Americas, etc.) and see that they had their own forms of cosmetics, beauty, and smell-good practices that aren’t talked about as often in marketing and sales-y parlance.
Back to Resala – flawless!
The pyramid (“Perfume Ingredients”) listed by the company are:
(Top Notes) Tonka Beans: Resembles a blend of cinnamon and vanilla.
(Heart Notes) Caramel: Sweet appetizing scent.
(Base Notes) Oriental fragrances. Madagascar Vanilla: Scent resembling a mix of vanilla and cocoa.
Top three wrap-up.
I have three more smell goods that I spray daily, and one that is a middle ground between ‘special occasions only’ and ‘depends on how I’m feeling that day.’ Sneak peek at that last one I’m referencing: Initio x Side Effect. The brand describes the main notes as: “Cinnamon, Rum, Tobacco, Saffron, Sandalwood, Hedione.” On brand, right? WE MUST TALK ABOUT RUM AT SOME POINT!
There you have it (we’re not done, relax). Those are my top three. Round of applause and shoutout to you, my digital friend, who likes to smell good.
Very important disclaimer.
Fellas, if your girl asks what cologne you're wearing (because she really likes it, air quotes around she really likes it), don’t tell her.
Why? She’s identifying and planning what she will try to forbid you from spraying/wearing when she’s not around. But it’s a scientific truth, my fellow fellas, that when you get a haircut, you have to wear your best cologne. Even if you are just going to the supermarket or corner store. Einstein said so.
So, when she asks, “What are you wearing?” You respond with –
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If you get into an argument, don’t snitch on me. Tighten up, soldier!
Let’s wrap up, I’ve shared enough.
I don’t think I’ll ever completely walk away from my love of fragrances. Although collecting bottles is unlikely to happen again, I enjoy the richness of a high-quality spray too much to treat it like an afterthought or chore. I love depth. I enjoy “things” that command attention. But more than anything else, fragrances are a way for you to socialize. And, like a good glass of rum, anything that encourages socialization has my approval. Always.
I hope it’s something I can one day use as an outlet to connect with my future children. However, I strongly believe that no inexperienced young adult should wear hundreds of dollars worth of fragrances. They won’t appreciate it. It’s akin to certain books. Let’s take bell hooks’s all about love as an example. What the hell is a young kid who hasn’t been beat up by love’s fiercest boxers (consequences) doing reading that book? It’s just words to them, no meaning. Sure, they can read it now, get a little bit from it in a cursory sense, and then re-read it later to appreciate it. The same way you can spray up your teenager with Haltane, just for them to say…eww, this is strong. Now I’m here, body slamming my seed because I feel disrespected. Sorry, I’m getting distracted.
Back to the point: my preference remains “grown man scents,” though I think it’s important to have variety (i.e., for me, that means lighter scents more fitting for seasons other than Winter). I can be honest with myself that Ombre Nomade is entirely too much for a hot Summer day.
I’m at the point where I’ll probably buy 1 cologne a year now. My objective is to finish bottles and replenish them, which I understand is very non-collector-like of me. A far cry from what I used to do, trust me. You know, I think part of it is that it is very difficult to finish some of these bottles that have stronger scents (may be an indication, too, of how infrequently I go out these days). Let’s not get it twisted, when I spray myself before going out, I hose myself down –
People have recommended a number of sprays that are appropriate. I spray until I feel like it is the “right” amount. I’ve never overdone it, or at least no one has told me so before. So, my very unscientific amount of sprays, which I never count, will have to suffice. FRIENDS, PLEASE SPRAY ON YOUR BARE SKIN, PREFERABLY PARTS OF YOUR BODY THAT GENERATE HEAT, NOT ON YOUR DAMN CLOTHES…STOP DOING THAT.
Where I am at this juncture of my life with my tiny fragrance collection is – I mainly engage the hobby for a range of self-care/mini mental boost, and social situation reasons. I’m always up for a little back-and-forth chit-chat on smell goods to keep the social juices flowing. At the end of the day, absolutely no harm will be done by smelling good, unless your girl is insane.
Get out there, buy some smell-goods. It’ll make you feel good.
Or, you’ll be doing a good service to your fellow humans.
Ever been in public and someone smelled unrighteous?
Exactly. Till next time.
Peace.
