Guerlain Après L’Ondée And Virginia Woolf: Who’s Afraid Of Melancholy Fragrances?

 

 

 

Some people believe in love at first sight. I wouldn’t say I don’t believe in it exactly, but it has never happened to me. In the context of fragrance, you occasionally hear of perfumistas having experienced a similar sort of “coup de foudre” or epiphany with a particular scent, changing forever the way they view perfume and incorporate it into their life. Overnight fragrance goes from being a casual accessory to a second skin – or a third, fourth or even a  fifty-seventh skin, for those with large collections. 

 

I also experienced “sudden onset perfume mania”, but for me it was not so much a fragrance which triggered this epiphany initially, as a review of a fragrance, namely Hannah Betts’ 2005 article for The Times on “glacial perfumes”. She starts by quoting former French Vogue editor Joan Juliet Buck’s comment about her heightened emotional response to narcissus absolute.

 

 

 

“Just a drop on each wrist and two in the bath were enough to send silver running down the walls. It set the world throbbing out of control when I wore it. I became a little weird.”

 

Betts point outs that the sense of silver trickling down bathroom walls is all the more pronounced if the perfume already smells of silver – “then walls course all the sooner”. This leads her neatly into a discussion of her own favourite cool, metallic scents, namely Après L’Ondée and Hiris by Hermès, and how this effect is created by the use of orris butter, one of the most expensive perfumery materials of all, a creamy paste derived from the iris root.

 

 

 

Captivated by her review, I set about acquiring a sample of the first scent Betts had mentioned. Après L’Ondée was created by Jacques Guerlain and released in 1906, with notes (from Now Smell This) of “bergamot, neroli, aniseed, hawthorn, violet, heliotrope, iris and musk; there may also be carnation, rose, jasmine, vetiver and sandalwood.”

 

 

 

When I first smelt Après L’Ondée (just the EDT in case anyone is wondering), it exerted the same visceral pull as the description in Betts’ review. It struck me as a dark, mournful, conflicted scent. There is simultaneously an airy, damp freshness and an earthy dryness. It is like rain that has been dragged through a hedge backwards. Yes, that is it – elemental violence has been done to vegetation. Broken boughs lie strewn in the long wet grass. And what of the powderiness – the anisic heliotrope sweetness? Well, it gives the fragrance a very retro, feminine quality, but this is no “come hither” boudoir powderiness. It is the scent of a woman with a wan complexion and a broken spirit. 

 

 

 

 

So Après L’Ondée, this wistful, silver beauty, was my perfume epiphany. But metal is hard, and this scent should not be worn if you are feeling the least bit emotionally fragile, as I recently learnt to my cost. I was engaged in a difficult work project, and one bright and chilly morning unthinkingly spritzed on Après L’Ondée instead of a cosy musk or soothing sandalwood. I had two appointments that day, but the first person wasn’t there, and the second person was wrong. Aborting the meeting, I retreated to a nearby mall to lick my wounds, cruise the perfume aisles of an outlet store and stock up on leisure wear in Gap.

 

It was a vexing day, and Après L’Ondée merely amplified my feelings of failure and frustration. In short, my epiphany scent, the catalyst which had catapulted me full tilt into this all-consuming hobby, was making things worse…

 

 

 

 

This unexpected fragrant downer got me wondering who would have worn Après L’Ondée at the turn of the 20th century when it was launched, bearing in mind that there would have been far fewer scents on the market in those days. My mind instantly lit upon Virginia Woolf, who would have been 129 this week, had she not walked into a river with her pockets full of stones 70 years previously. But when Après L’Ondée was released she would only have been 24, and its melancholy quality would have chimed perfectly with her intermittently depressive character. At least I hope it would have stopped there – at chiming, I mean – and wasn’t a contributing factor to the final bout of depression that prompted her to take her own life. 

 

“Someone has to die in order that the rest of us should value life more.”

 

That’s a noble gesture, if a touch extravagant… Now hold on a minute – I don’t know that Virginia Woolf wore Après L’Ondée – or any perfume, indeed.

 

 

 

 

As it happens, I have always admired Woolf’s writing – I haven’t read any of it, mind – it is all a bit too “stream of consciousness” for me, though I did sit down for a good 15 minutes with “To The Lighthouse” once. But seriously, I recognize that she is a literary giant of the 20th century – a modernist who has been hailed as the greatest lyrical novelist in the English language. And an early feminist to boot. So Après L’Ondée – with its haunting sadness and restless soul  – seems a fitting choice of hypothetical signature scent for someone who wrote a novel called “The Waves” and met a watery end.

 

 

 

 

I tucked this idea away in my mind until I bumped into an unknown relative on Ancestry.co.uk one day – we were researching different parts of our family tree and eventually collided into each other at the intersection of our efforts, a mutual ancestor with the singular name of Edward Samuel Boys-Tombs. I sent this distant cousin an email asking if she would like to pool findings, and the following day we had a long chat on the phone. After bottoming out our own tenuous and convoluted relationship to each other, my new cousin inquired whether I had discovered any interesting characters in the course of my research. 

 

“Well, my aunt swears we are related to the author of “Lorna Doone”, but I haven’t quite nailed the link yet.”

 

“Would you like to be related to Virginia Woolf and Charles Darwin?” my cousin asked playfully, as if they were the ancestral equivalent of a banded pack promotion.

 

My ears pricked up. “Are you offering?”

 

“I can trace you back to both of them in – hold on a tick – 17 steps to Virginia Woolf and 19 to Charles Darwin – where a step is going up, down or sideways on the tree via a parent, spouse, sibling or child.”

 

It took some time for this information to sink in.  Now they do say that we are all related to everyone, however famous, in just six degrees of separation, and that may very well be so, but the flaw with this theory is that we don’t generally know what the six degrees are. And here was my x-th cousin y-th removed handing me a couple of dead cert celebrity rellies (dead dead certs, admittedly) in under 20 steps!  Okay, as blood connections go, it was very very thin – several intervening marriages meant that we are talking positively homeopathic levels of dilution – but no matter.  Even wafer-thin blood is thicker than water…

 

 

 

 

Prior to this discovery, the only time my path had remotely crossed that of Virginia Woolf was during a research project for The National Trust (a charity that protects historic houses and monuments). I stayed at Sissinghurst, an Elizabethan castle in Kent with gardens designed by Virginia Woolf’s lover, Vita Sackville-West.

 

 

 

And now, with the benefit of hindsight, I can speculate whether my exceedingly watered down genetic connection with this fey novelist has something to do with my attraction to a scent that I had independently associated with her, even if that association has no basis in fact. I was telling the wife of a much closer cousin(!) about the news, knowing her keen interest in family history, when she suddenly dropped her own genealogical bombshell: “Well you know, don’t you, that my mother is related to the Sackville-Wests?” I didn’t, but my mind suddenly went into overdrive, recalling Virginia Woolf’s unconventional relationship with Vita Sackville-West, before applying this extra twist. “I know what you are thinking”, replied my cousin-in-law, “but just think how many steps that would be from Virginia to Vita, if it is already 17 from Virginia to you. That’s hardly incestuous, now is it?”

 

“Wouldn’t it be funny if it was 39 steps”, I replied, thinking to myself: “Now there’s a book I can get my head around.”

 

 

 

Photo of bust of Virginia Woolf: Wikimedia Commons

Photo of Victorian Era Bathroom: Linda Svendsen

Sisinghurst Photos: www.nationaltrust.org.uk

Family Tree: ats.coloradocollege.edu

Virginia Woolf picture: Wikipedia

Bookcover of "The Letters of Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf": amazon.co.uk

 

 

 

Vanessa Musson, Contributor

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27 comments

  • Apres L'Ondee was my perfume epiphany too and I *think* if I had to only wear one scent- or only offer one scent that chimes with me it would be  this one (although L'Heure Bleu is a great love too).
    It is such a beautiful scent, in so many ways so of it's time but in a lot of ways also very cool and even modern in a way. It isn't trying to be overtly feminine, it's absolutely not girly, but it isn't sexy in a traditiional way, it's delicate but strong and cerebral but hugely emotive.
    I have never thought of it for Virginia but you are quite right, it would be sublime on her- and Nancy Mitford describes Linda Radlett wearing it in the Pursuit of Love very well too.

    How wonderful to be related to Darwin and Woolf- such giants and such fascinating people.

    I have no idea of my relations further back than 2 generations- partly because of an adoptive line and then because of strange family stuff- I'd love to know more.

  • I love Aprés l'Ondée, I love Virginia Woolf and I love your review! Vanessa, that is a really great piece, thank you! The thought of Virginia Woolf walking into that river, pockets full of stones and smelling of Aprés is as haunting as the perfume itself. I am going to go now and apply some Aprés myself, though not to be sucked deeper into a bad feeling but to enjoy its bittersweet side while I re-read Cunningham's The Hours.

  • It's my perfume of choice as well, though I'd never thought of it as soulful and melancholy. It all fits neatly however, as my music and literature favourites would be considered maudlin by other people…I'm a big fan of Virginia and her wonderfully dysfunctional family!

  • Hi Rose,
    How interesting that this was your perfume epiphany scent too!  And as you say, it has many facets – managing to be simultaneously cerebral and emotional.
    I must check out that reference to Apres L'Ondee in The Pursuit of Love – I have never read the book, but my mother was forever telling me that certain things were "Non-U", a phrase you never hear nowadays!

  • Hi Olfactoria,
    Thanks – I am glad you liked it!  Would you believe that I have yet to read The Hours either – or see the film, for that matter.  Though it must be out on DVD by now…

  • Hi Dawn,
    I sense that Apres L'Ondee is different things to different people, but I definitely get a sad vibe from it, possibly because of the iris note, a flower I associate with funerals and hard, wintry ground.
    The Stephens were a colourful clan, indeed!  And of course Virginia  had a sister called Vanessa, which is not all that common a name.

  • Wonderful description of the melancholy Apres L'Ondee . I must admit to not liking Virginia at all . I have to say though that I adored Lorna Doone as a child along with Children of the New Forest . I'd love to research Mum's side but am terribly afraid as an aunt used to say they were "white Russians" and I thought it meant non-asiatic type. When I realised I was stricken now with all the white Russians involved in the perfume industry I might have distant relatives in fashion or perfume world . I guess you know why I was stricken having seen my blog but when that relative in France invites me over well red and white can live together can't they ?

  • Beautifully written post.
    Oh, how I wish I got things like "melancholy" and "cerebral" out of Apres L'Ondee. My skin sweetens a lot of things up, so this just turned into sugared piccolos on me. Fortunately, most iris-centric fragrances stay out of this sweet territory on my skin, so that's my consolation. Today's SOTD is 28 La Pausa on one wrist and TDC's Bois d'Iris on the other for comparison, and both smell fabulous.
    For me, it was Prada's Infusion d'Iris that was my epiphany and the beginning of my love for wonderful, metallic, melancholy iris and the rabbit hole into a larger perfume obsession. The first time I smelled it I thought, this is an "I'm presenting my thesis now" fragrance.

  • V-  love the works of  Virginia Woolf.. &  Vita!!!! Move over Emily Dickenson, you  American bluestocking!! Ancestry.com is interesting. I played with my hertiage.com  for fun .I look 89% like LL COOL JAY.hmmmmm

  • Hi Angie
    Lorna Doone is a good read, and more accessible than Virginia Woolf's work, all right!  Lorna Doone is also a brand of shortbread in the USA, though if you don't mind my saying so, it is not a patch on the Scottish variety (Walkers et al!)
    Regarding your ancestors, I think we all are "mongrels" to some extent, and the diversity of our lineage is (mostly) cause for celebration!  : – )

  • Hi Dionne
    Interesting that you also fell hard for an iris scent at the start of your obession with perfume.  I was wearing the Prada just the other day and enjoying it very much – the incense note is just right.  Shame you can't warm to Apres L'Ondee, but skin conditions are so key.  And as you have found, there are lots of other (drier) iris scents to enjoy!

  • Hi Michelyn,
    LOL re your resemblance to LL Cool J, whom I had to "google image", but I think I see where you are going with this!  : – )

  • Great column,  Vanessa.
    I have to agree with you about the Apres l'Ondee.  While I adore the construction, it is indeed not for fragile or tempestuous days.
    Congratulations on "meeting" your x-th cousin, y-th removed. Isn't Ancestry.com grand? Now all you need do is start your own DNA study!

  • Hi Mary Beth,
    Thanks for your comment!  "Tempestuous" is a great word to sum up the unsettled, stormy side to this scent which makes it a no-no on days that threaten to take a similar turn… : – )
    Funny you should mention DNA…I am a market researcher by profession, and on my last project I got to interview a leading manufacturer of DNA sequencing instruments.  If I had had the presence of mind to ask them, they might have done me a special price on one!

  • I enjoyed this post very much.  It may not urge me to run to TPC or the like to lay my hands on a sample of Apres L'Ondee, but it will chase me to the bookshelves for some Virginia Woolf to read… thanks!  I love the way you connected perfume and novel.  I've been trying to do that on a different level.

  • Aaron Potterman says:

    I can see very clearly the line you are drawing here…fascinating, indeed.  That said, I cherish Apres L'Ondee with a passion that is almost frightening.  It is truly an astounding fragrance and work of art.  Hats off to you for this wonderful post.

  • I re-watched The Hours a couple of weeks ago, and by golly, perfect tag for Apres L'Ondee. Great post, Vanessa!  Enjoyed thoroughly the read. Encore..

  • Thanks very much for all your comments – I think I should definitely bite the bullet and have another crack at a Virginial Woolf novel.  Or maybe an essay to ease myself in? But first the film to ease myself in before the essay!  ; – )

  • I sniffed Apres L'Ondée in House of Fraser after a very long sniffing session. I'd was overwhelmingly beautiful. I've never got that "melancholy" from it though. Perhaps because my brain whirrs into "what is in this/what does it smell like?" instantly, instead of allowing myself to experience it.
    I let myself 'experience' a fragrance for the first time after I did Odette Toilette's "Guided Scent Meditation" too, perhaps I should do the same with Apres L'Ondée sometime.

  • Hi Nick,
    Maybe I experience Apres L'Ondee that way because I have melancholy leanings myself – you are such a bright and perky person that if there is a sunny side to a scent you would home straight in on it! 
    : – )
    Gotta try that meditating business…thanks for the link!

  • Après L'ondée was my first Guerlain fragrance, 15 years ago and it turned my world upside down!
    My love and passion for Guerlain all started then… .

  • Does anybody know an online store in America that carries Apres l'Ondee at this time?  I,  by the way have a large sample of this and the first few days I tried it, it dried down to a candied smell on me.  I passed it up.  A couple weeks  later I tried it from the same sample and got a incredibly lovely dry down that lasted for hours.  I wasn't on any medication during any of the samplings.  So I think it must have been related to what I ate.  And don't recall what I ate.  Well this current dry down has made it my favorite and I'm finding it in stock only on European websites where the transatlantic postage is high.