PORTRAIT LADYof a (new)

In terms of reinvention, there’s nothing more dramatic than changing your gender. Turn the page to follow Diana Thomas’s journey of discovery, as she perfumes her new identity

TALK ABOUT ‘a new you’.

In the past few years, I’ve acquired a new name, new hair, new voice, new hormones, a remodelled face, a radically reshaped body, and in the space where my new passport records my gender, the ‘M’ has been replaced with an ‘F’. In short, I’ve transitioned from several decades of boy- and manhood to a new existence as a woman. Naturally, this new identity calls for a new perfume. And so it was that I was dispatched by this magazine to London from my Sussex home, to find just such a thing.

Left to my own devices, I would have headed to Harvey Nicks or Selfridges and mooched around all those brightly-lit stands where the big designer brands sell their celebrityendorsed smellies. But I was steered, instead, to three specialist stores: Les Senteurs and Jovoy (which both stock an extraordinary range of perfume brands I’d never heard of before), and Diptyque, which showcases only its own products. (And yes, I had heard of them.)

There were, however, a couple of obstacles in my path, the first being that I have no confidence whatever in my sense of smell. I don’t possess the vocabulary to discuss my responses and choices in the way that I might when describing a favourite dress, or painting, or piece of music. In short, I’m not a natural scent buff. My wardrobes may be full of clothes that earn my female friends’ approval, but my scent collection is pathetic. Before setting off to London it consisted of a few aged bottles of…

• L’Air du Temps, bought in airport duty-free as a basic starting point.

• Chanel No5, because it’s the one scent everyone’s heard of … but it turns out it doesn’t work on me.

• Two remnants of a short-lived Fffern subscription, cancelled because I couldn’t justify getting a new bottle every quarter, though I’m still happily wearing their Summer ’21 edition.

• Acqua di Parma Rosa Nobile, because I love roses and this seemed the rosiest rose around. And finally …

• Miller Harris Terre d’Iris, which a friend of mine was wearing when

I went to stay with her, the very first weekend that I presented as transgender to anyone else. I loved the perfume, loved the weekend, and love the thought of how far I’ve come since then.

Anyway, off I went to London, and the first thing I discovered was that people who work with perfume are just wonderful. There was none of the intimidating feeling one gets around retail fashionistas. As I committed one faux pas after another, no one was anything other than kind, encouraging and endlessly patient. In Les Senteurs, I dismissed an entire selection of beautifully-crafted smells with the words, ‘They’re all just a bit Toilet Duck.’ Asked to sample the supposedly musky, ultra- left the shop with something I didn’t like. At Diptyque, they even poured me a glass of champagne. Thank heavens it was just the one; given another, I might easily have bought every perfume they had, just for the gorgeous, individually designed labels on each bottle. seductive Musc Ravageur, I replied that all I could smell was crème brulée. Proffered something called Frangipani, I became completely confused, and blurted, anxiously, ‘Will it smell like a Bakewell tart?’

I finally went home with well over twenty mini-samples, plus two 10ml bottles of fragrance that I’d bought at Les Senteurs. And one thing soon became obvious. In future, I will be very reluctant to buy a perfume immediately in the store where I have just tried it for the first time. It’s just not possible to get a truly accurate impression of whether a scent will work for me unless I’ve sampled it in clean air and spent enough hours with it on my skin to know how it will evolve. So, for example, I bought Musc Ravageur on a whim, even though I didn’t get the slightest hint of its supposed sexiness after trying goodness knows how many other scents. But when I wore it out to dinner a few days later, it really was warm, sensuous and possibly even rather seductive.

Yet Joe, the sweet chap who was looking after me, kept supplying me with new choices and never once lost his cool at my repeated idiocies. He even said, ‘You’re doing the right thing,’ when I kept dashing outside to sniff the latest scent strip because my noise was so overloaded that I couldn’t smell a thing in the shop itself. The folk at Jovoy were just as kind. When I cancelled a planned purchase on discovering that a perfume I liked cost £161 for just 17.5ml, they reassured me that they would rather I bought nothing than

Likewise, I had caught enough of the rose in Portrait of a Lady to justify my mini-purchase. But only when I lived with it for a day or two did I really appreciate how the sweeter notes of patchouli, cassis and raspberry are tempered by cinnamon, clove, frankincense and amber. Suddenly it seemed grown-up, sophisticated, yet very feminine – just like the woman I aspire to become.

On the other hand, other perfumes proved less appealing at home than in store. I can think of three in particular – one at each of the stores I visited – that were all gorgeous on first sniff. But in two cases, both very expensive, they didn’t develop into anything very interesting on the skin. And the third was so strong, and so long-lasting that it felt like a loudmouthed guest who had long outstayed their welcome.

The one perfume that was exactly the same chez moi as it had been in the store was Nishane Afrika Olifant. Musky, funky and as horny as hell, without a trace of a flower, or fruit, or sweetness, it is the only scent that still makes me grin every time I spray it, just out of sheer, exuberant naughtiness. It’s dark and dangerous and I absolutely love it. (Though I’m still waiting to discover if I have the nerve ever to wear it.)

After my joyous scent expedition, I spent a fortnight spraying and sniffing over several hours at a time. My nose became scent-drunk. I wasn’t simply sniffing coffee beans to clear my palate; I was practically grinding them up and snorting them. Meanwhile, I constantly washed, and rewashed my wrists and jawline, and even sprayed myself with medicinal alcohol when soap alone was not enough to rid myself of lovely, but ultimately unwanted, odours.

ALONG THE WAY, I found that, by and large, I am not one for sweet, powdery smells. I love floral and citrus scents, tempered by notes that make them cleaner, spicier, woodier and/or warmer.

I still find myself struggling for the right words to describe what I mean. But, as the saying goes, I know what I like. Or to be more honest and precise, I’m beginning to learn what my favourite scents are. I’ve discovered that some of my existing scents can still hold their own with the new competition. But above all, I have found myself completely and utterly seduced by the world of perfume. I’m fired by a desire to learn more about how fragrances are created – as well as to discover how they work for this new and very different ‘me’. And I’ve had to fight the all-but overwhelming temptation to go right back to those three welcoming London emporia and say, ‘I’ll have that … and that … and that … and…’

So, which of the fragrances listed right is the absolute tops? I can’t pick one. But I can just about get down to a final four (though it might easily change by the time you read these words). To wit: Terre d’Iris for day-today comfort. Portrait of a Lady for business, chic encounters and feeling ready for anything. Riviera Sunrise for lazy, sunny holidays… and finally, Musc Ravageur for love.

Diana’s Top 10

1LA ROUTE DE LA SOIE DAMASK (Ormonde Jayne) I love roses, so I worked my way through a lot of rose perfumes and this one stood out for the perfect balance of heady Damask rose, sweet fruit, but then an almost peppery, spicy, warm undertone of vetiver, amber and musk.

2

DO SON (Diptyque) Of all the tuberoses I tried, this was my favourite: not too powdery, not too sweet. Inspired by the holidays that Dyptique co-founder Yves Coueslant spent by the ocean in Vietnam, it definitely has a feel of both the Far East and sea breezes, ideal for summer holiday evenings.

3

DON’T CRY FOR ME (Altaia) My late father was born in Buenos Aires, so I’m a sucker for this nostalgic tribute to his homeland by the Argentinian Sebastian Alvarez Murena. It’s meant to evoke the scent of jasmine on the breeze and it succeeds. Light, subtle, and really, really interesting.

4

FRANGIPANI (Ormonde Jayne) This gives me a blast of fruit when it lands on my skin; one of those scents that really grew on me, after first trying it. Yes, there’s an intoxicating sweetness here. But it felt lighter and fresher than some other floral perfumes. So, to put it technically … yummy!

5

MUSC RAVAGEUR (Éditions de Parfum Frédéric Malle) Yes, it’s gorgeous. Yes, it’s sexy. Yes, I’ll wear it if and when I ever get that seal-the-deal date!

6 PORTRAIT OF A LADY (EDPFM) I’ve already waxed lyrical about this. So I’ll just add that I love the cool understatement and san serif typography of EDP’s packaging. Now that I really do understand!

7 RIVIERA SUNRISE (Atelier des Ors) Opens with a blend of oranges, mandarins, lemon and orange blossom, like the smell of a citrus grove wafting in through an open window, warming and mellowing through the day with warmer, woodier undertones. Is it a world-changer? No. Is it summery and delightful ? Absolutely.

8 ROSA NOBILE (Acqua di Parma) This is the furthest end of the scent spectrum from Nishane Afrika Olifant (see left). With AO, I worry that it’s just too wild. But Rosa Nobile remains so sweet and so pretty, with Sicilian mandarin added to Centifolia roses.

9 TERRE D’IRIS (Miller Harris) For me, the smell of a walk through sun-parched woods on the way to a deserted beach, with a faint hint of roses somewhere off in the distance. Wearing it feels like meeting an old friend. And it’s such a symbol to me of how far I’ve come. How can I abandon it now?

10

34 BOULEVARD SAINT GERMAIN (Diptyque) Intended to capture the smell of the company’s flagship store at 34 Boulevard Saint-Germain, with a blend of all their perfumes and candles, it’s intriguingly hard to pin down. But its accords include woody, aromatic, green, spicy, aromatic and fresh, so that’s why it speaks to me.