*to reserve the last spots for the ecology of luxury workshop, email vino@enotecamarilu.com.*

Unbeknownst to me, last week was national fragrance week. How fitting that there is a week dedicated to fragrance with the spring equinox nestled right in the middle.

I found out about this annual homage to fragrance while I was in London smelling a favorite perfume, Queer Magic by Urania. This scent reminds me of my friend, Elliot, whom I got to see just the night before running into this bottle again. We had not seen each other for a year and finding this perfume on a shelf in Shoreditch immediately made me feel like I was hugging my dear friend again.

Smelling Queer Magic transports me to Los Angeles, specifically to Elliot and Laurel’s home in an Eastside canyon. That canyon is filled with so many happy memories, like dragging a hot tub up the hill for Elliot’s birthday surprise and celebrating their engagement in that home.

No need to tell you that scent is one of the most powerful ways to trigger emotional responses and recall memories.

Walking around London naturally hits the olfactory system with a bouquet of smells, but this week I was so pleasantly taken by the warm wafts of magnolias and daffodils permeating the sunlit wind.

Last year a summer visit to London introduced me to another favorite scent, Silphium by Stora Skuggan. I could not resist adding this perfume to my scent library because in that season I was engaged in a full fledge romance with Ferula communis, the giant fennel, in Sicily.

Silphium is a plant that went extinct but our modern day equivalent is the giant fennel. Silphium—aphrodisiac, spice and medicine— was eaten into extinction as a consequence of being one of the most sought after plants in antiquity.

The team at Sora Skuggan formulated their rendition of the historical plant by researching surviving relatives of silphium to create an accord that represents the written descriptions of the prestigious plant.

This idea of formulating a scent from the past or future is what brought me to London for the first time, ironically during the summer solstice.

I was invited to The Design Museum for the opening of the Solar Design residency because I consulted on Eliza' Collin’s project, Olfactive Evolution, as a beekeeper.

Eliza’s residency explored how the increase in global temperatures causes the scent of plants and flowers to change. This has huge consequences for pollinators because when a flower’s scent changes so does the pollinator’s relationship to the plant. If the flower becomes unrecognizable, the plant is then at risk of extinction. Herein lies a tangible example of natural selection and adaptation that we will see play out in the next 100 years.

Eliza worked with Clara Weale of a library of and early modern to design the scent of jasmine in drought like conditions. Our work was in conversation because I was creating jasmine enfleurage with guests of Anna Tasca Lanza cooking school in a drought ridden Sicily.

My gardening residency allowed me to create a library of scents for the Anna Tasca Lanza garden during one of the most severe droughts on record — think tomato leaves, jasmine and zagara. These three plants also allowed me to explain some of the agricultural movements in Sicily that are inextricably linked to Italy’s food system.

Beyond the agricultural inputs, my time in the garden urged me to examine the fundamental elements of perfume — smoke, fat and distillation.

Smoke

The story of perfume emerges in a thick smoky veil. “Per fumum” in Latin means “through the smoke.”

Smoke brings my attention to beekeeping.

Bees communicate through scent and so beekeepers play with this method by using a smoker. There is already a beautiful fragrance that emanates from a healthy beehive and smoke is used as a tool to mask the scent of alarm pheromone. The alarm pheromone of bees is mainly composed of esters and so it has a banana like quality.

Of course we as humans are communicating through scent — we just are not always registering the messages on a conscious level.

I enjoy thinking about pheromones.

I often exclaim love for my job as a beekeeper. Each morning I smell the sweetness of the honey and beeswax mixed with the sensual smokiness from yesterday’s work in the hives.

My clothes and hair are saturated with this beekeeping “perfume” during the spring and summer - no need to grab a scent from my library. In fact, I try to avoid perfumes when beekeeping because it is far too much information when I approach the hives.

I do however like to use incense in the home year round. I think it clears a space and sets a really beautiful intention.

Aphrodite, the goddess of love, folds nicely into the archeological story of perfume. In the early 2000s, archaeologists unearthed the oldest perfumery on the island of Cyprus that operated during the Bronze Age. Cyprus is the island of Aphrodite and according to archeological evidence, the main altars dedicated to Aphrodite received offerings of incense, perfume and fire.

Incense is one of the most primitive forms of fragrance — it is often used in spiritual rituals and referenced in countless religious ceremonies.

Smoke allows the volatile scent molecules to linger in the air and permeate. It is a beautiful vehicle for persistence and captures the outline of a scent long after it is gone.

My three notes for incense are as follows: I always have Papier D’Armenie Traditional Burning Papers lying around. Saint Rita’s Parlor is another favorite incense that I have burning in my home thanks to a recommendation from a dear friend, Zac. ONEIRONAUT is a store in London that I will always visit when I am in town for my incense needs.

Fat

We will also be charging our own enfleurage chassis with the flowers blooming around San Miniato. Enfleurage is a technique that can be used to capture the volatile scent compounds that flowers emit — flowers specifically emit these fragrances around 25° - 30°C.

To practice enfleurage you need fat that is solid at room temperature, a closed glass vessel and fresh plant material.

My own set up in Sicily was rather crude, I just cleaned up two old picture frames and used this as my chassis. I do not think you have to have fancy materials to create an exquisite enfleurage, you can just use what you have near you.

I worked exclusively with sugna, rendered leaf lard from our pig, Carmen.

The third element is my favorite piece in the process of enfleurage. In order to create a pure expression of a flower, you have to “charge” the fat with fresh flowers daily.

Every morning I rolled out of bed and went straight to my enfleurage. I would slowly wake up while peeling yesterday’s petals off and making space for fresh flowers. I would slip my shoes on and saunter into the garden to fill my basket.

Once I had enough, I would hurry back home to prepare the flowers — removing pistil and stamen — to gently lay the petals on the fat. Enfleurage is delicate work, you have to be gentle with the flowers because you are capturing the soul of the plant. Any bruising or choosing flowers that are past their prime will show up as a defect in your perfume.

I like practicing enfleurage because it makes me feel like a bee. I have to be attuned to what is blooming and my process of making perfume is limited by the time that the flowers remain on the plant.

The male orchid bee, from the Euglossini family, makes his own perfume to attract lovers. I like this example of the orchid bee because it suggests that specific scents increase our attractiveness.

I think some people would argue that the more “natural” thing to do is go through life without perfume, but there is something so animal about communicating via scents. In its simplest expression, perfume is meant to cover body odors or unwanted odors. Perfume also mixes with pheromones which gives it that amazing quality of smelling different on each body.

Our unique chemistry alters the way the fragrance sits on our skin.

The origins of enfleurage have a very unique link to skin, specifically animal hides and tanneries. I will write more about this in the future because it deserves its own piece but if you would like to deepen this connection please consider joining a two day hide tanning workshop led by April’s artist in residency, Francesca Farris.

I will also go more in-depth about the influence of Catherine de Medici in the world of perfumery during the Ecology of Luxury workshop as we will be right in Florence exploring the unique ecosystem that gave rise to the famous Officina profumo-farmaceutica di Santa Maria Novella.

When speaking on enfleurage, I always love to mention the work of dryland wilds in the United States because their project is focused on harvesting invasive plants and creating beautiful fragrances from these unwanted plants. Their sensitivity to ecosystems is admirable and I try to follow their lead while infusing this philosophy into my own work.

At the end of each enfleurage process, I am able to choose what I would like to do with my concrete. I often opted to makes solid perfumes because they travel easily and I enjoy involving the bees as much as possible.

Beeswax itself is of course a fat — I will delve deeper into beeswax in the upcoming April workshop at Enoteca Marilu.

Distillation

If I wanted to push my enfleurage process further than a concrete or solid perfume, I would then use alcohol to create a liquid solvent. In the process of making perfume this step is “fat washing” and it is often guiding the perfume towards an aerosol format. Soaking a fat in ethanol causes the volatile compounds to leave the enfleurage concrete and bind to the alcohol molecules.

Mixologists took this method of perfumery and applied it to their craft. Fat washing is now commonly seen in upscale cocktail bars— for example: a parmesan washed gin Negroni or a bacon washed Old Fashion.

To create my perfumes, I took the enfleurage concretes and let them macerate in high proof alcohol for at least two weeks. Slowly but surely, the alcohol stole most of the volatile scent molecules from the fat. I am now left with vials of zagara, tomato leaf and jasmine perfumes that I can spray when I want to remember my time in the hot Sicilian sun.

The other method to obtain a liquid perfume is through distillation itself. Plant material that can be heated to a high temperature and maintain its’ volatile scent compounds can be distilled in a copper still. This is the type of perfumery I am moving into exploring this year.

I am patiently awaiting the arrival of my alembic still.

Until then, dreaming of gorgeous distilled perfumes brings to mind a fond memory from a trip to Mexico City. While in CDMX I visited the stunning boutique of X I N Ù perfumes. Their atelier is a feast for the senses and they have truly thought of every element that goes into their fragrances. If you are planning a trip to Mexico City, do yourself a favor and escape into this wonderland.

I am sure I will have more updates in the world of distillation once my still arrives and the world continues to bloom around me.

Scents of self

For me these elements of perfume are not separate from food. Equally sensual, food and perfume fill those spaces that words can’t quite reach.

This is an element of perfume that I want to explore — intimacy.

I am fixated with this idea that others know my smell but I will never know how they experience my smell. If you’re looking for a book to read that plays with this topic I and many will suggest: Perfume: The Story of a Murderer. You can also watch the film, but we all know the book is always better.

Others perceive us, our scent is sacred.

Proximity is alluring. Plants and pollinators know this. Flowers emit their scent right on their nectaries — to show pollinators exactly where they want them to be. All in the name of love and creation.

I believe that the perfume you wear should be like a secret. Someone should need to get close to you to smell you. Perfume is an invitation, something not meant to be shared with everyone.

I find it fascinating that now most people seem to reach for perfumes that have a really long persistence and can be smelled by everyone around them. I will be completely honest with you — if your perfume has these qualities there is most likely a synthetic element to that fragrance.

Why do some want everyone to smell their perfume?

I think the answer mainly lies in this idea of expressing status? It is a way to say “I can afford this perfume.”

I often think about what smell I was wearing at a specific time of my life because it gives me a sense of self. When I lived in Chicago, Le Labo was at its peak…everyone and their mother wanted to smell like Santal, 33.

I have nothing bad to say about Le Labo because even I reached for Lys, 41 as my signature scent for a while. I just find it really funny that these scent accords have become a way of “quietly” expressing status.

As a way of saying, “I don’t have to tell you anything about me, you can just smell it.”

It might be fun to rethink your fragrances.

How are they made? What are you trying to communicate? Could you make your own perfume? How are the raw materials for your perfume being sourced?

We all want beautiful things.

Nature itself is luxurious and I do not think we should deny ourselves the sensuality that envelops us. Perfume can be one of the most delicious ways that we carry an essence with us through the day. It can also be an invitation to draw someone closer to you.

It is spacious to push the boundaries of what we know. The practice of deep ecology gives us tools to recognize these relationships — it is a gift in its purest essence — the scents and sense of self.