A number of years ago, Suzie and I were having a night-cap (or a night-start, I can’t quite recall) at Quill at The Jefferson in Washington. A favorite DC haunt, introduced to me by my friend Chris, Quill provided the quiet and contemplative scene ideal for sharing time with a treasured friend. A piano player tickled out a few standards, and as we settled into our evening, a woman brushed by us and sat down in the next table. I didn’t notice her at first, as I don’t typically notice strangers, especially when talking with a friend. That changed as my nose pricked up at the gorgeous trail of perfume she left behind her, and so exquisite was it that I broke out of my public shyness and told Suzie I was about to ask this woman a question.
“Hi, I just have to ask… what perfume are you wearing? It’s beautiful,” I said.
The woman looked slightly sheepish as she explained that felt a little embarrassed to say the title, but she gave up the name: ‘Carnal Flower’. I told her I knew the Frederic Malle line and it was lovely, then we left her alone. At that time, I wasn’t ready to take on such a fragrance, in name or actual fragrance. It was exquisite on her, but I said that it wasn’t something I could wear. Not then – I was still too unsure of myself.
Created by the brilliant Dominique Ropion for Frederic Malle (the same genius behind ‘Portrait of a Lady’ among many other jewels), ‘Carnal Flower’ is one of the classic early entries in that glorious line. Way back when I was just beginning my scent journey, I tried it out in Barney’s and it was much too much. For years, that’s where it remained in my mind, in the section of ‘too much, even for me’ that no one believes I actually harbor.
Over those years, the Tom Ford Private Blend line brought me into a realm where my nose evolved, and I came to appreciate richer and more complex works, things that went beyond citrus cologne, hinting at deeper and more beautifully dark perfumes. A brief but vibrant excursion through the decadent Diana Vreeland line further expanded my idea of olfactory allure. As time passed, I found myself appreciating perfumes that once repelled me. One of those was ‘Carnal Flower’, which finally revealed its full enchantment to me years after that woman at Quill whispered its forbidden name to me through a shy smile.
A bottle of it greeted me on our anniversary this year, courtesy of Andy, who has supplied more magical fragrance memories than anyone else – this was no different, and it’s been kicking off a floral spring and summer that will hopefully be filled with healing moments of rebirth. With its heart of tuberose, and gorgeously green opening with a dose of bergamot and melon, it is the embodiment of floral freshness, and sticks around surprisingly well, drying down with the lasting tuberose and happy access of orange blossom. All of it leads seamlessly into summer…
