Liza Wade with her mother Anne Abernathy Wade, 2013

 May 10, 2020 marks the first Mother’s Day without my Mother who passed December of 2019. It is difficult to wrap my head around this so I was pleased when EIC Michelyn Camen asked me to share memories of my mother through her perfume journey. I jumped at the chance since there is a story to be told. In truth, my mother was not what we would call a Perfumista. She was, however a very colorful character, and was a sequential monogamist choosing one signature scent at a time. That alone suggests to me that, once my mother stumbled onto a perfume, she was sure that the scent expressed who she was; she did not deviate until it was time to move on. I imagine each fragrance somehow expressed a phase in her life.

Anne Abernathy Wade, 1958  High School Portrait

I cannot speak to what perfume my mother might have worn first nor at what age she discovered fragrance. My mother was a teenager in the 50s in West Tennessee and was shaped by a provincial deb culture with a dash of Elvis Presley. I never asked my mother what her first perfume was but I cannot imagine that she didn’t spritz something special to the fraternity party dances at Vanderbilt University in Nashville. Nor can I imagine that she went without for her first date with my father, during her senior year, nor on her wedding day in 1966.

Liza with her mother 1968

 I can only speak to my memories of my mother and what fragrance dominated each era. I can go back into my memories as early as the late 60s. In those days my mother wore Maja which spoke to her love of Spain, after all she had studied there before marriage, and received her Master’s in Spanish Literature. She first encountered the Iberian staple while she was studying in Madrid and I think of Maja as her first signature scent. It is evocative of flamenco dancers featured on its iconic packaging and sultry Andalusian culture.

Maja Advertisement

Already a classic at that time, Maja (1921) would set the tone for my other’s choices, with its wonderful floriental mix of citrus, orange blossom, jasmine, and carnation with exquisite spices. My mother loved this fragrance so much that, even after she had moved on to a new signature scent, the little trios of soaps, wrapped in their tell-tale black paper (almost like a Spanish fan) made their way into her toilette.

Je Reviens ad

The only fragrance that my mother spoke to me about with which I had no direct recollection was Je Reviens by Worth (1932). Given her later earthier choices, I strongly suspect that this scent choice was influenced by my father’s more subtle tastes. Despite the floral aldehydes which might have drawn my father’s palette, I sense my mother wore it happily since the dry down of this classic perfume contained musk (a strong scent theme for her), along with amber and sandalwood.

Ma Griffe Carven

However, Ma Griffe by Carven (1946) took the place of Je Reviens at some point while my family was living in Italy (1968-1972). Even though this is a chypre fragrance, Ma Griffe, nevertheless, had the earthy dry down that she loved with musk and friends.

 Mother and Daughter 1973 Norrell (Liza and Anne)

The mid 70s brought Norell by Norell (1968) to the forefront. Unlike her earlier choices –both of which had been classics– by the time she wore them, Norell was more on trend with its times. Also, the family was back in the States and I feel that my mother was playing cultural catch up. A natural free spirit, it must have been odd to have “missed” the heyday of the counterculture movement in the US. Her choice of Norell speaks more to my mother’s personality by venturing more into the spices such as cardamom and a solid base of musk (of course!) with amber, sandalwood, cedar and myrrh. I actually remember the bottle on my mother’s dresser: sleek and rectangular and, for some reason, she kept it next to the plain white box with its distinctive bold black lettering.

 

Anne Abernathy Wade with Liza 1983

By the 80s my mother found her fragrance footing with Opium by YSL (1977). Like so many fragrances form that era, Opium is both opulent and dramatic. Like my mother, Opium makes a strong first impression and leaves you with something to think about. Opium was very on trend for the decadent decade and it likely served as a crutch to communicate strength to the outside world while she mourned the early loss of my father at the relatively youthful age of 42 in 1983.

Yves Saint Laurent Opium ad featuring Jerry Hall, photo by Helmut Newton, 1977

A true oriental, this fragrance remains a best-seller, known for its provocative name and edgy marketing. Opium provided my mother with even more of the heavy base notes she had grown to identify with including musk (again!), sandalwood, cedarwood, myrrh, and patchouli.

 

Skin Musk by Bonne Belle

Then something funny happened when I went off to college. My mother stole my signature scent! She absolutely loved the Skin Musk by Bonne Bell (1975) that I had been wearing but instinctively knew not to wear it herself while we were living together under the same roof. Once I flew the coop, however, that boundary had been removed and she happily spritzed the drugstore favorite through the 90s. Meanwhile, I continued to change scents at least once a year so there was no conflict there. Unlike many of its predecessors with their elegant or distinctive packaging, Skin Musk had a pedestrian dime store flacon. The scent was housed in a nondescript round bottle with god awful green writing which belied the distinction of the fragrance. It always tickled me to see it on her dresser…or often in her handbag. My mom was not alone, however, in her downtown choice as it remained a cult favorite well past its association with the Bonne Bell brand.

Liza Wade with her mother Anne Abernathy Wade (2004)

By the very early 2000s my mom was complaining that Skin Musk was getting hard to find. I believe that was during its transition from the Bonne Bell brand to its current incarnation under the umbrella of Prince Matchebelli. By then I had been exposed to Original Musk by Kheils (1963), a staple in apothecaries sprouting in urban areas like DC where I was living at the time. I preferred the heavier, richer musk tones and thought my mother would as well. I bought a bottle for her as a gift and she fell in love with it. For the next fifteen years this was her go to fragrance. By then she was back in her home town of Jackson and could not source it locally so it felt very exotic to her.

 Anne’s  bottle of Kiehl’s Original Musk photo by Liza

My mother grew increasingly loyal to her scents and Original Musk she wore until the end of her life. Her last bottle has a place of honor among my personal perfume collection. Looking at the bottle makes me smile and, occasionally, I will spritz it on myself…and celebrate my mother.

Liza Wade, Contributor (we welcome you back to CaFleureBon).

all photos of Liza and her mother property of Liza Wade© as well as the Kiehl’s Original Musk

Editor’s Note: It is a tradition at CaFleureBon to dedicate a personal essay to our mothers or maternal figures in our lives. Our first was written in 2010 by Rodney Hughes of Therapeutate and Robert Herrmann (RIP) wrote a tribute to his mother in 2018.

To celebrate all our mothers, those who have passed, those who are thankfully with us… we wish you a Happy Mother’s Day. Do you remember fragrances your mother wore?