Accord: In the language of perfume, “a balanced blend of notes which lose their individual identity to create a completely new, unified odor impression.” (Source: Now Smell This, a perfume blog.)
[An accord] might be the smell of a particular flower or perhaps a special bouquet of flowers or an exotic wood. An accord might also capture the scent of a very particular thing – maybe an ocean breeze, or a bit of driftwood, a mushroom or the forest floor. An accord might also be the smell of old leather gloves, freshly made carrot cake, a roll of cellophane tape or a brand new box of crayons. An “accord” can even capture a more complex but still particular experience: like walking through a meadow or a locker room or perhaps passing by a bakery or laundromat. All these different notes are then combined to create complex perfumes. In essence, accords are the words a perfumer uses to tell the story of a particular perfume; they are the Vocabulary of Perfume & using them creatively is the grammar of the Language of Scent.
His own accord vocabulary, Brosius writes, is based on reality. He offers 15ml vials of accords with names (and aromas) not usually encountered in the fragrance aisle: Baby Butt (Clean), Bananas Foster, Celo Tape, Doll Head, English Novel, Mushroom (chanterelle or white truffle), My Birthday Cake, Tortilla Chip, and Wet Pavement London—as well as eight variations of leather, from Baseball Glove to Spicy.
Why is his company called I Hate Perfume? Brosius explains in a manifesto whose first section reads:
I hate perfume.
Perfume is too often an ethereal corset trapping everyone in the same unnatural shape
A lazy and inelegant concession to fashionable ego
Too often a substitute for true allure and style
An opaque shell concealing everything – revealing nothing
A childish masque hiding the timid and unimaginative
An arrogant slap in the face from across the room
People who smell like everyone else disgust me
I thank Manolo the Shoeblogger for the introduction to CB I Hate Perfume. In a December 13 post, Manolo called Brosius “the most original, uncompromising, and iconoclastic of scent designers,” and added that one of his own favorite scents is Memory of Kindness, which is classified as a perfume, not an accord. Brosius describes Memory of Kindness as “the shining green scent of tomato vines growing in the fresh earth of a country garden.”