Walking together on a beach in Southern California or living on a farm in Oklahoma, we honor them. Born in Athens or in Brooklyn, whether it was their Aramis or Chanel pour Monsieur or the smell of coconut oil, mango or the “deep scent of rat shit”, the scents of our fathers and their fathers pervade our memories.
Special thanks to Alexandra Balahoutis, a botanical perfumer and la nez behind Strange Invisible Perfumes for the giveaway of Peloponnesian for Men http://www.siperfumes.com/products/peloponnesianparfum. Mark Behnke's review http://tinyurl.com/2ek52ru To be eligible to win the draw you must leave a comment onsite
I grew up in the countryside (“the middle of nowhere”); finding perfumes was almost impossible, so my father bought scents from the barbershop: St. Johns Bay Rum and West Indian Lime. Finally, our town’s fancy drugstore stocked Chanel Pour Monsieur; “I” bought it for my father’s birthday when I was nine. Chanel Pour Monsieur became his favorite fragrance; its citrus-mossy character suited him: he spent every spare moment on his boat or at the beach. – Kevin Stant, contributor, Now Smell This: A Blog About Perfume http://nstperfumes.com
For most of his life my father had zero interest in fragrance but when he was past sixty someone gave him a bottle of Chanel Pour Monsieur—and suddenly he was a man with a signature scent. After he died I rescued his last bottle, which still has an honored place in my collection. – Maria Browning, http://bittergracenotes.blogspot.com/
My father is from Athens, Greece, so unlike many American men, he wore fragrance often. His scents were always very palatable and masculine. They reminded me of the very early morning when he would first apply them. He never wore too much. My Dad’s scents always had subtle herbal and citrus notes that smelled distinguished, clean, and full of vitality. My father’s voice was so kind and affectionate when he would wake me up. He would say good morning in Greek along with some other cute, Greek pet names. I vividly remember the subtle smell of his cologne, brewing coffee, and the sound of his voice competing with a loud wall-unit air conditioner as it combated the heat of Miami in July.
I also remember that he often smelled like mangoes because we had a mango tree in our backyard in Coral Gables. He and my stepmother would cut up all the fruit and preserve it in enormous glass jars. Atlantic is a fragrance I designed inspired by my father, a man more unique than any other I have ever known. He is a true character… – Alexandra Balhoutis, Owner and Founder of Strange Invisible Perfumes
When I think of my father, Arthur Drell, I associate him wearing Estee Lauder's Aramis. Aramis was inspired by the Cote D'azur as was Azuree the feminine version. It is an optimistic scent with its citrus, musk and leather notes. If Aramis, the man was one of the 3 musketeers, then my father was one of the 5 musketeers being the youngest of 5 boys. Born, in 1920, he was a member of the greatest generation. He was a romantic too, having presented my mother with a 1 oz bottle of Chanel no. 22 on their June 1, 1947 wedding day. – Madelyn Etkind, Perfumista
The particulate light, in scent-dusting in a barn.
(Photo credits © Dawn Clark, 2010)
My grandfather was a man that could seemingly do anything, in keeping his farm, my father's childhood farm, running — even, to winding up the bellows of his forge and hammering out what he needed of heated metal on the anvil. That primeval forging is a center-point to my memories, since there's a lot on the farm that has to do with combustion — big engines, harvesters, grains and transportation, generators and gas. These are a olfactory layering in the dark of his workshop, a repair space with a hardened earth floor, tools everywhere, dimly lit — and the smells of action: diesel, wet and dry hay, motor oil, grease and lubricants, sweat, hot metals, sparks and grating steel, seared iron and boiling water, bailing twine, crushed grains and a deep scent note of rat shit. …-Tim Girvin, Founding Principal of GIRVIN | Strategic Branding and CaFleureBon Contributor http://tinyurl.com/2bjxrq3
Coconut head
the coconut smell of sun tan oil
reminds me of him
the feel of warm sand
the sound of the waves crashing
on a summer’s day
a back drop for many vacations
so many years ago
he laughs at the Seinfeld episode
when kramer is selling the beach
never realizing it is
my fondest memory
the sun, the sand, waves
the smell of my father
brings a smile every summer
– Jeff Middlemiss, Artist and Designer