When I was little, I used to approach my mother’s tray of fragrances on her dresser and gingerly pick up those exquisitely shaped vials with curious-sounding names like Opium, J’Adore and Organza to sniff their contents. I never spritzed them on myself because I had this idea that I had to earn the right to wear expensive designer perfumes — when I could finally call myself a woman. Besides, there’s nothing sillier than smelling like a child who had a fight with a bottle of perfume. And lost.
At 25 years old, I’m only beginning to come to terms with being a young lady, even though I tried to rush myself getting to this stage. When I was about to start my first job at a fashion magazine three years ago, I put my foot down and told myself that I would never become a woman if I didn’t start acting like one. While staying in our home in the US, where my mother also keeps a tray of perfumes, I spotted a semi-full bottle of Pôeme by Lancôme. I spritzed it on, thought it smelled nice and asked my mother if I could have it.
For my first assignment at the magazine, I was tasked to interview an international makeup artist while allowing him to make my face over. As he leaned in to pat foundation on my face, he paused and sniffed. “What’s your perfume?” he asked. Before I could even properly recall the name of my scent, he interjected, “Is that Pôeme?” Considering that my fragrance was a little dated, I was surprised that he was able to identify it. “My mother wears Pôeme,” he explained. “I’d know that scent anywhere.”
Although I was genuinely moved by the fact that my fragrance brought back memories of his mother, at the same time I was also a little mortified. At that particular moment, I really did feel like a silly girl who naively tried to get away with wearing what was obviously her mother’s perfume. Worse, I was afraid that I was “amoy lola”!
That served as my first formal lesson on scents: Wear scents that are appropriate to your age and personality. Take the time to find the right fragrance for yourself, especially since there are so many options out there. My second lesson came much later, when I learned about the difference between daytime and evening fragrances — what on earth was I thinking wearing Pôeme in the afternoon?!
For years, the smell of Pôeme stirred feelings of slight humiliation — until recently when I attended the launch of Lancôme’s latest fragrance, La Vie Est Belle, on the breathtaking island of Balesin. As we sat down to a beautifully prepared dinner, Lancôme brand manager Sheena Dy explained that La Vie Est Belle was created to celebrate the freedom to declare that life is beautiful because you choose it to be so.
Created after 5,521 versions and three years of work by three French masters of perfumery, Olivier Polge, Dominique Ropion and Anne Flipo, they were finally able to create a fragrance that contained almost 50-percent natural ingredients. It’s a proportion scarcely attempted in perfumery because of the prevalent use of pre-manufactured bases and recomposed ingredients. That Lancôme chose actress Julia Roberts to be the face of the fragrance is telling of what kind of woman the scent represents. With its light and elegant balance of sweet irises, calming jasmine, and delicate Indonesian patchouli mingled with a delicious, playful fusion of vanilla and praline, it is a perfect balance between grace and femininity. More than a mere olfactory treat, the fragrance embodies Lancôme’s philosophy of “less but better,” exuding a kind of beauty that does not overwhelm the senses but rather emits a gentle, soft loveliness.
Sniffing the contents of the bottles of La Vie Est Belle handed to us before dinner, my seatmate Liza Ilarde observed that the fragrance bore a resemblance to ... Pôeme. Normally, I might have balked. But although her observation was correct, Pôeme is heavier, headier and more mature, while La Vie Est Belle is lighter and much more delicate. It is a scent that I could feel much more comfortable claiming as my own. There is something very fresh and youthful about it, yet womanly and sophisticated at the same time.
And maybe decades from now, if I have my own daughter who tries to wear the scents displayed on my dresser, I’ll tell her to go get her own. Life is too short to spend it smelling like somebody’s mother. Or grandmother.