Crafting perfume is much like cooking, where the formula serves as a compass guiding us toward the flavors and sensations we seek. Yet in the realm of creativity, it is often the detours beyond the rules that open the door to the most beautiful surprises. If we cling too tightly to the fear of “all or nothing,” we risk losing the joy of discovery, of trial and error, of crafting a scent that truly carries our personal imprint.
A gentle weekend afternoon…
NOTE welcomed Steve, a witty, lighthearted soul, into our perfume workshop to compose his very own 20ml fragrance. Decisive in his choices, sharp in his likes and dislikes, he wasted no time in choosing his central note: Sandalwood. Like a gentleman of timeless old-money elegance, clad in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, a Panama hat perched neatly above, and a cigar resting between poised fingers, Sandalwood exuded a sweetness tinged with cream, lingering warmly at the back of the throat yet grounded in the depth of wood.
It was dignified and alluring, yet almost too familiar. Too safe, and too predictable.
Steve, with a glimmer of daring, whispered to himself: all or nothing. Perhaps he might lose the comfort of his first beloved formula, but perhaps he might gain something greater. Guided by his instructor, he reached for Neroli and Fig Tree — two notes that would pierce through the warmth with a sharper, cooler, unexpected edge.
“Fig Tree has always been a struggle for me,” Steve confessed softly, holding the vial in his hand. “It’s a scent I love and hate in equal measure, depending on the moments.” He hesitated, turned the bottle over in thought, then finally let a few drops fall into his blend, as if sealing a decision that could not be undone.
What emerged was no longer the safe embrace of sandalwood alone. The verdant freshness of Fig Tree, with its woody green brightness and faint tartness, intertwined with the bitter-spicy, herbal shade of Neroli, reshaping the perfume into something more complex, more ambiguous, more alive. It was as if his leap of all or nothing had shattered the boundaries of taste he thought he knew, transforming dislike into desire, turning the once-rejected into a newfound love.
The fragrance now carried a texture of skin itself, carnal, mature, and quietly profound. It became the scent of a man not just elegant, but layered with depth, subtlety, and an intensity that lingers long after he has left.
SANTOL NEROLI – Steve finally named his bottle of perfume, his smile half-playful, half-reflective. “A name born from that entangled feeling of love and hate, a fragrance too complex for simple words. But now, I think love has outweighed the hate.”
My Formula
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