I spent a good deal of Saturday afternoon staring out at the sea. Thinking.
I thought about the words 'I am a perfumer'. Just that for a while. Then I asked myself, 'Well, am I a perfumer?'
Yes. Yes, I am a perfumer.
Saturday was a day of revelations. About confirmation of ideas. About what a crazy path I've chosen to trod.
I've said this before, that some people who want to become perfumers never will. They'll never see personal or commercial success in perfumery. I'm finding that those who do never question their abilities as perfumers. Not out loud, anyway. Or not often. Let's not confuse this with false confidence, however. There are those yet who are afraid to admit they're not cut out for this work and plod along anyway, releasing one atrocious scent after another, making comments that imply that if you as the consumer/sniffer can't figure it out, then you never will and the problem is yours, not theirs. Come on. It will always be your problem if you can't sell it.
There is definitely a cult of personality at work within perfuming. People imagine their favorite perfumer a certain way, building the image of them in their mind from what they write or the stories they tell about themselves, whether true or made up. There was a time when only industry reps and perfumery students were interested in what perfumers said and did. Not anymore. Perfumers have moved into popular culture, acquiring 'groupies' like rock stars. Perfumers are chic and cool, the Andy Warhol's of the 21st century.
It's weird. But what a ride, eh, if you can get a ticket.