Perfume is the Swiss Army knife of deceptively floofy beauty products. Sure, it’s olfactory clickbait for one’s charms, an invisible finger that crooks seductively under the nose of its target.
But as the ancients could attest, a pretty smell is more than just a pretty smell. Egyptians used fragrant materials to keep mummies fresh. Bible heroes burned them to stay sweet with God. Queens and kings broadcast status with wafts of rare oils. Native Americans spooked spirits with sage. And as this Future Ancient can attest, huffing perfume is also a crafty way to blot out the tough times. A means of blurring the edges of the daily janglefest known as life.
Much like medieval peasants snorfing pomanders in their quest to bamboozle the Black Death, I deploy scent as a forcefield against BS du jour. Tops in my arsenal of voluptuary distraction is Shaal Nur by Etro. It’s an oriental perfume in a see-through nightie - salubrious citrus and herbs sexed up by wisps of incense and balsamic opoponax. Languorous karo-karounde, with its ripe jasmine feel, fills out Shaal Nur’s lingerie.
Like the dance of the seven veils in reverse, this eau de toilette starts skin deep and becomes more adorned and layered as it develops. On my hanky, one sniff is an ejector button away from vexation, whether trapped between strangers’ armpits on a packed Tube or pretzeling into a hot yoga boil-in-the-bag asana. And on my skin, Shaal Nur delivers the delusion that I am not of this annoying earth.
ETRO Shaal Nur, £109, at Etro boutiques
