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France: Where Perfume Is King By
Arnie Greenberg (Pictured above is a view of the quaint village of Eze, outside of Nice, where Arnie was introduced to a 'Nose' -- or "Nez," a person who creates the scents of perfumes. French Government Tourist Office Photo/Daniel Thierry) In the age of the Bourbon kings, they used perfumes to scent their bodies and not water. I suppose the women did the same, and let's not forget that both men and women powdered their wigs. But the French, for all their follies, have a certain "je ne sais quoi."
(A little music offers a pleasant respite on a city outing. The French, for all their follies, have a certain "je ne sais quoi") The French are an odd race, if you call dining on snails as odd or consuming great volumes of wine with each meal. Without going into the differences, I must admit that I personally enjoy the company of Frenchmen. After all, I did marry a French lady, and my new family speaks mostly French. I get along well with them because, I guess, I speak their language and understand them. That may be one reason why holidaying in France is right up my alley. A Cordial, Charming People I
find the people there cordial and often downright charming. The music of their
language and the flair they have for the 'artistic or cultured' is almost disarming.
Think of the things they gave the world. Think of the 'croque monsieur,' that
melted-cheese-and-ham sandwich grilled with the cheese on the outside. That alone
excuses them for all their foibles. Add a tomato on top and, voila, the 'croque
madame.'
(A Parisian pastry -- oh, what a mouth watering thought!) But wait! Am I being read by Americans who, since 9/11, have been asked to shun everything French? Are people still pouring French wines down the tubes? Are they shunning the best wines in the world because they don't want anything French with their hamburgers, hot dogs and fries? Can it just be a ploy by American merchants to sell their own wines and cheeses? Not that the American product is bad. I recently had an excellent sip of domestic wine. Now I hardly think this article will bring French products back into American homes, but I do think that some products have been shunned for the wrong reasons. There are better things than "Le Big Mac" and the Hambourgeois. Frenchmen now flock to MacDough as they call it, but they know there are other things more edible and they do not shun the fast food because it's 'tres Americain.' Home of Some of the Best Perfumes in the World America has long been France's hero. They adored the GIs in 1918 and 1944 and American film captures a Parisian's imagination every time. They are a proud and accomplished people, who now make excellent films, fashion some of the finest clothing, and manufacture some of the best perfumes in the world.
(The colors of the French Riviera dot the hillside of the village of Menton, in a region known for the production of fine perfumes. French Government Tourist Office photo/Daniel Thierry) Surely the ladies of America have not stopped using Eau de Givenchy, Chanel, French Cologne or Lacombe. Surely the sales of Fragonard and Gallimard, the French perfume giants, have not suffered these past few years. I see nobody pouring 'Paloma' down the drain. Think about it. Perfume can bring us back together. French perfume manufacturing is a major industry, especially in the lavender districts of the South of France around Grasse. Recently, on my yearly tour of Fragonard, just at Eze, outside of Nice, I was introduced to a 'Nose' or should I say 'Nez."
(Lavender, a source of French perfume, grows in the south of France, where you're never too far from the magical seaside colors of St. Tropez. French Government Tourist Office photo/Daniel Thierry) Yes, the person who creates the most famous scents in the industry is called a 'nose.' It takes many years of practice and a very sensitive sense of smell that must be developed. I read a list of fragrances like Tahiti, Romance, Classique and Contradiction. An ad said: "She is always and never the same." Now what on earth does that mean? French perfume buyers adore the names Tabu, Sublime and Amis. They call out to many of us, but not to me. I like simple scents with a subtle aroma. I actually like plain unscented soap, but I do understand the French flair for the mysterious and the romantic. It's part of their charm, and the French are exceedingly charming. Have You Kissed a Lady's Hand? When was the last time you kissed a lady's hand? The French do it all the time. When you toast with wine, do you look into the lady's eyes? The French do. Now I try to do it, too. Frenchmen would never enter a shop without nodding 'bonjour' to everyone, even strangers.
(A sailboat rests in the waters off St. Tropez in the south of France. French Government Tourist Office photo/Daniel Thierry) Yes, you can learn a lot from the French, if you take the time to go there. It is a country that has everything from rivers that sing out to you, forests of many cool greens and lush gardens, tiny roads that lead to peaceful havens. There are tiny villages and beautiful old bridges and monuments. There is only one Paris. Actually, there is only one France, and if you give it a chance it will win you over. The people ooze charm and, if you start your conversation with 'bonjour,' a policeman will be cordial, charming and helpful. But getting back to perfumes and scents. There is nothing wrong with a hint of odor, but it sets me off when I get a whiff of too much sweetness. If it were up to me, I'd create smells that conjure up green teas, or cinnamon, apple pie or fresh baked bread. Perhaps Davidoff should bottle the scent of a good cigar. I like the smell of new cars. Shouldn't we bottle that, too? Southern food is wonderful. We can bottle the aroma and call it 'grits.' I think I'll start an ad campaign to keep me busy on the long winter nights here in Montreal. I can suggest "Essence of Tahiti," "Smell like Gauguin," or "Eau d'Argent…Smell like Donald Trump." I promise not to suggest "Eau de Dubbaya…Smell like a Bush." Can a perfume smell like pizza? I love the smell of hot pizza. I want something simple, something soft and frisky, like a squirrel. But I don't want anything that attracts squirrels. I already have enough of those and, besides, I have to consider my neighbors. I'm the friendly type. I even forgive those neighbors and old friends who don't agree with me now.
(Find yourself in a cafe in Paris...or in sunny Provence, at right. Vive la difference! French Government Tourist Office photo/Daniel Faure) I know what you're thinking. The winter in Canada has turned my brain to ice. Not true. It's the winter away from France that has gotten to me. So if you're becoming a skeptic or feel the winter blues, try France. You can't miss. Just step off the plane, and Voila ! "The scent of Paris." Vive la difference…
(These are Oregon truffles. Read about truffle tours in Lane County, Oregon and see how "tasty" travel to southern Oregon can be. Just click here)
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