It's not about the bottle

‘One of the first perfumes based on a completely synthetic smell’ Diane Ackerman wrote in her Natural History of the Senses ‘was Chanel No.5, which was created in 1922 and has remained a classic of femininity.’ (New York, Vintage, 11-12). Asked impertinently once what she wore to bed, Marilyn Monroe apparently shot back, coyly, ‘Chanel No.5’!

The ‘synthetic smell’ molecule in No.5 belonged to class of what is known as aldehydes, which is an organic compound formed by the oxidation of alcohols. In the music-like language of fragrance, the aldehyde is Chanel No.5’s first ‘note’; the substance you smell first, as it is often is the smell that disappears first too. It is the perfume’s introduction.

This is followed by the smell of jasmine, rose, lily of the valley, orris (a preparation of the fragrant rootstock of an iris used in the past in medicine) and the Malaysian and Filipino ylang-ylang (a sweet-scented oil obtained from the flowers of a yellow-flowered tropical tree widely used in aromatherapy and perfumes).

Then there is the base note, which carries, supports and elevates the perfume and makes it linger and stick around, some longer than others, as I am sure you have noticed. For No.5 it is vetiver (oil from the root of an Indian grass or weed), sandalwood, cedar, vanilla, amber, civet (scent from the gland of a civet cat) and musk (male musk deer secretion).

Indeed for centuries human beings have turned to animals for the base note of fragrances. In the past, we have turned to four secretions from animal glands. There is the famous and monumentally expensive ambergris (a fluid a sperm whale uses to protect its stomach from sharp objects like cuttlefish backbones) and the Canadian and Russian beaver’s territorial abdominal scent castoreum.

There was the Ethiopian carnivorous cat, the nocturnal civet’s honey-like genital excretions and finally the ubiquitous and all-important musk, which is a red jellylike substance taken from the gut of an East Asian deer. How we discovered that the sacs of certain animals carried scent is not known.

Today, most of the fragrances are synthesised in laboratories by the hundreds of anonymous biochemists who work not so much for the perfume houses but for the fragrance companies. Musk, which is very close to human testosterone, is for example produced in about 20 different varieties from non-animal sources.

Chanel no.5 was therefore one of the first new perfumes using a method that the biologist Craig Venter calls a ‘disruptive technology’, a laboratory-based process of synthesising particular smell molecules. But why was one of the greatest perfumes called no.5? There are two versions of the story, both likely apocryphal, as perfume stories are deep secrets.

One version had Coco Chanel (called Coco after her legendary cocaine parties) chose the fifth of a multitude of samples produced by the perfumer Guy Robert. The other story is that it was a mistake, containing far more – five times - aldehyde than was intended, but Coco Chanel loved it.

Most perfume houses actually do not make scents. In the Emporer of Scent Chandler Burr writes that six companies make most of the scents (Arrow Books, London, 2002, p.56). They are: International Flavours & Fragrances (USA), Givaudan Roure and Firmenich (Switzerland), Quest International (UK), Symrise (Germany) and Takasago (Japan).

They make two kinds of perfumes. For functional scents, they were with the retail giants to make scents for laundry detergents and other household products. I recently encountered luxury toilet paper scented with Aloe Vera on the shelves of the local Woolworths. The list grows because human beings love the smells of nature.

Then they make fragrances for most of the perfume houses like Dior, Givenchy, Chanel or the fashion houses that market perfumes like Giorgio Armani, Vera Wang and Ralph Lauren. German Hugo Boss and French La Coste are pioneers in developing large markets for their apparel via interesting scents.

Why do we like the scents that we like? Because it makes us feel good, attractive and sexual. Why do scents make us feel that way? Because deep in our sub-conscious are evolutionary memories of the natural smells of Africa, the place where we evolved our senses. It is not accidental that all human beings love the smell of African soil after rain.

Billions of rands are made annually in service of an evolutionary memory. Now isn’t that interesting.