We are – until proven otherwise – the only species on Earth capable of telling ourselves stories. We invent and convey thoughts, facts and actions that exist only in our brains, then in our words or writings. Most of the time, we believe in them and even manage to convince others. But sometimes we also decide to change these stories, to question them and transform them.
Our sense of smell, originally designed to alert us to urgent, if not vital, situations (fire, food, predators, etc.), has become more sophisticated over time, capable of stimulating our imagination and memory and offering us a reality augmented by a thousand recollections, representations, landscapes, emotions, and more. But this sense, because it is not educated, and therefore does not have its own vocabulary, sometimes plays tricks on us. Thus, the narratives offered by most perfumes are essentially projected by those who sell them, without leaving us the space to construct our own intimate story, anchored to our personal feelings.
Through patient and regular learning, which we are all capable of, smells can gradually invite themselves into our minds and give rise to our own images, characters, words, poems, scripts, or twists and turns.
So, the next time someone talks to you about “the expression of a bold, free woman,” “a clever blend of elegance and energy,” or an intense eau de parfum that “encapsulates the spirit of men of action,” turn around, and go sniff some “real” perfumes instead, the ones that tell stories… that belong only to you.
Editor’s note by Jeanne Doré (Editor in Chief of Nez)
Issue: 20 Autumn/Winter 2025
Pages: 176
Language: English
