Messing With Molecules aka Toeing the "Dark Side"

I've been commissioned to work on a special project for a special company creating overpoweringly strong perfume scented soy/hemp candles in little cans. I keep all the molecules well away from my naturals -- in another room, in fact, in a box, covered and just short of locked up. Why? I don't know, maybe it's a mental thing. Last night I tried out the first formulation, a white musk requiring strange sounding perfume ingredients like velvione, ambrettolide and ethylene brassylate. It turned out okay. Being a musk, however, it created a bit of confusion within the household -- those who sniffed it either couldn't smell it at all or had a difficult time *picking it up. I, on the other hand, still smell it, 24 hours later! I'm not sure I like that much. Not that the scent isn't nice, because undoubtedly it is, but I'm used to my perfume -- closer to the skin and mutable, remnants left after hours instead of the same scent from beginning to end. The initial formulation was strictly molecules, no naturals in sight, and the results were, to my nose, a bit bland. It lacked depth. So I added patchouli and vetyver, and today or tomorrow I may add a few top note elements -- naturals, of course. I'm thinking of using the white musk formulation as an accord in this scent instead of the primary.

It bugs. I'm not really loving making perfume this way. But I'm an open-minded person, and so long as I don't break out in hives or have a sneezing fit or go blind, I think I can do this.



*Some of the comments from the household included:

"Why are you making pickle scented candles?" (There was a jar of pickles on the counter in the kitchen that someone had just opened)

"It smells like . . . like . . . like someone I don't want to mention!" (The ex)

"Smells like fat."