ESSENCE OF MOI
Ruth Spencer has a go at making her own signature perfume
Ruth Spencer has a go at making her own signature perfume
Aman holds a small, ribbonwrapped gift behind his back. Well, to be strictly accurate, in front of his bottom. One word teases the product: Waft.
I honestly thought it was a joke meme. I even admired the subtlety of the punchline, when they could have gone with Parp, or Toot, or Odour. But Waft is real and Waft is serious, an online personal perfumemaker that puts the delicate art of concocting a fragrance into everyone’s clumsy, uneducated hands. Obviously I have to try it.
Before I even start I’m stressing about what to call it. They let you engrave anything on the bottle. Anything. I’m giddy with power but also racked with indecision. What should my signature fragrance be called? I’m sorely tempted to steal my cousin in law’s Instagram handle, Sasswolf. Admit it, you’d spray Sasswolf on a sample card.
First I enter the WaftLab, which is to say I click on the link. It promises an “exhilarating experience” that will enable me to “accessorise each of my moods and moments”. To think all this time my moods were going around unaccessorised. If I’d known, I could have bought my anxiety a nice hat, although it would have been too self-conscious to wear it.
My first choice is between Masculine, Unisex or Feminine. I choose Feminine because I like my perfume as I like my garden, full of flowery nonsense and attractive to bees. The next choice is harder: do I want the “radiant
I like my perfume as I like my garden, full of flowery nonsense and attractive to bees.
crispness” of a Day perfume, or the ‘daring sensuality’ of Night? Considering I spend the mysterious, erotic hours of dusk on Facebook, radiantly crisp it is.
This is like those internet quizzes where you find out which Disney Princess you are based on your socks, except I’m going to end up with an actual perfume at the end of this. Here are my next options: Sport (haha), Social (also haha), Work (really, this is quite funny) and Dating (lol). Where’s Bingewatching? Supermarket shopping? Sleep? I choose Work, described as Light, Natural, Earthy and Graceful, which doesn’t sound like anywhere I’ve worked but makes me less physically sick than Social’s Joyful, Playful, Delightful and Sweet. Now that I’m at work, am I Fresh, Sensual, Elegant or Relaxed? Have I ever been Sensual at work? I really hope not.
More questions, then I get to choose some individual fragrances that appeal. I choose rose, white musk, pink pepper. I add amber and leather for depth, because now I feel like a perfume scientist and it’s going to my head. But I have questions. What would a leather rose smell like, other than essence of bogan? Milk is an option. Who wants to smell like milk? I once took my baby to a petting zoo and a piglet chased me. A 12-year-old attendant said, “He can smell your milk,” which is far and away the most awkward thing ever said to me by a 12-year-old boy, and I’ve been a 12-year-old girl. I don’t tick milk.
Time for a review. I’ve chosen Feminine, Day, Work, Relaxed and Trendy, which is not as incoherent as I’d feared. Maybe I work somewhere cool, like a fashion studio or a really calm design firm. Maybe I have a chic messy bun, Ruby Woo lips and man-style trousers that don’t go all the way to my ankles. According to this perfume I’m a bit aspirational. Definitely not Sasswolf territory though. The vibe is more like Streep. Or Ikea.
I’ll have to decide because it’s time to pick a name. Something wistful and nostalgic, a soft, romantic yearning for the golden days of yore. Obama! Not Obama. What word sums me up? I toy with Vacillate and Dither, but I just can’t commit. This process is fraught. Hang on, that’s pretty good: Fraught, a new fragrance by Ruth Spencer. Done.
Time passes and my sample of Fraught arrives in the mail. Oh. Oh no. This is Day? Maybe if by day you mean a Saturday morning after rugby when the shower isn’t working but you’re meeting that girl off Tinder and also you’re a man. Maybe it’s Relaxed if you’re a canary in a mineshaft and the fact you can smell it means you’re not going to die of methane poisoning just yet. Feminine if that leather rose sounds like a cool tattoo. Is this Lynx? Have I been sent a $60 sample of Lynx? If I don’t cancel immediately they’re going to automatically send me a hundred millilitres of $200 whiskey sweat with my name on it. I cancel immediately.
This is probably a good time to mention this article is not sponsored by Waft. Although the next time you see me I may seem fraught, I’ll smell of Miss Dior, which I bought in a shop after smelling it first, like a normal person.