Hello.

A return to Substack.

Hi there. It’s been awhile. I’ve withdrawn just a bit over the winter months to focus on what is essential. As much perfume is one of my biggest loves, I surely have a love or two that is even bigger, and they needed my time and attention (and still do!). I am sure most of you will understand. Since I have a rocky relationship with technology these days and am astounded with what its done to shape social interaction and society in general, in just a matter of a decade, I’ve wanted to re-examine my purpose online. Since I began sharing reviews of fragrance online in 2020, so much has changed with fragrance content, and I have been resistant to its shifts, unwilling to adapt—not because I am a luddite—but rather because I want to retain the integrity, the soul and intention of my self-expression intact, algorithms and trends be damned. There seem to be plenty of voices who want to be perceived as ‘experts,’ illuminate the history of fragrance in whatever capacity, and keep their finger on the pulse. I just can’t keep up, and frankly, I do not want to. In short—I do not have the bandwidth.

Lately, the narcissism of social media is what grates me the most. This is why I’ve mostly wanted to touch grass—or snow, as it were. There are a few creators on social media who capture me with their narrative voice, but so many more seem to elude me with just how of their own personality they incorporate into their work. It’s not that I do not want to know the personality behind the thoughts, but often it seems more about that than it is about the subject matter. I’ve been trying to force myself to appreciate such content, but I just cannot. All the talking heads, the theatric hand gestures, the flashy imagery and fast editing, everything reduced to something easily digestible. It’s just not for me, and I certainly do not want be a part of it. I am sorry if any of you reading this have this approach—it really is a “me” problem. I just had not be absolutely honest. I cannot enjoy it. So, the solution for me has been to reduce my screen time altogether.

Buffleheads, Chatham, MA. Taken this past weekend.

I’ve also come to realize that as a writer, I am more a sprinter than a long-distance runner, at least today. I struggle with long-form writing. I am sure will find this amusing since I just railed on short-form content, but my style tends to be concise and incisive. I imagine many have appreciated it for that very reason, but I do still vie for that skill of telling stories and effectively retrieving all the literary and historic references and injecting all the morsels of my liberal arts education. I’ve long considered whether my challenging blue-collar, working class background has contributed to this lasting “imposter” syndrome. I marvel at the seeming ease that writers can draw from personal experiences throughout their lifetime, but I often need to remind myself that many also were raised in families of privilege, afforded exposure to a great deal throughout childhood, with little of the interruptions that come with being in a fractured home. In many ways I am proud of how this has shaped who I am, but I do have that lingering feeling of inadequacy that requires my metacognition to prevent me from derailing and to just push forward.

So yes, I am back. To those who have been kind enough to sign up for a paid subscription: I am sincerely sorry that I couldn’t be as prolific as you had hoped, and I understand if some of you have opted out. I get it. I do have a question to ask, though. What would you like me to write about? What topics would you like me to explore? It will thrill me to hear some fresh ideas; some new frontier. It seems like everything in perfume has already and is already being covered, so it may be a tall ask, but let’s challenge ourselves here. One topic, and this may be a bit uncomfortable for a few of you, but the other day I thought about the smells one would want to experience if they knew they not had much time left in this world. How important would smell even be in those moments? Given the power of smell to transport us to the memories of our life, I imagine some of us would want to revisit them while we are still conscious (at least until we potentially enter some new kind of consciousness). I also was thinking about the less poetic or glamorous smells in our lives. This was inspired by my sharing a review for IDLE’s Tracelessness and it reminding me and others of the smell of static emanating from old CRT television sets. You know, if you were five or six years old and you may have leaned really close to the TV screen (while your parents warn you that you’ll hurt your eyes), and you not only feel the static against your face, but you detect that specific smell. There’s also the smell of a carpet just vacuumed, the dust that is warmed by the first day of the season when the heat is turned on, or the aroma of a brand new toy or stuffed animal, fresh out of its box.

Anyways, I am glad to be back. Much love,

-JC