Anatomy of a Scent: Phloem

Welcome to Anatomy of a Scent, a series where in-house master perfumer Euan McCall dissects much-loved scents from our collection of unique Scottish fragrances to reveal their inner workings. This time we're looking at Phloem Eau de Parfum, a playful, fruity floral perfume with salted skin-like elements. 

Impression

Passion Fruit, Mulberry, Nasturtium, Honeysuckle, Rhubarb, Blaeberry, Camellia, Oysterplant.

Fade

Meadowsweet, Ambrette, Sesame, Amyris, Tonka Bean Absolute.

Coriander Seed + Styrallyl Acetate + Cis-3-hexenyl Acetate = Fruits de Mer? 

Marine aromas are fascinating. Perhaps the entire aromatic universe is contained within the oceans – albeit homogenised into a singular sensation that needs laborious unpicking!

Marine fragrance profiles can be created a million different ways, depending on the intention of the perfumer. In Phloem I wanted to showcase the warmer, sensual and perhaps odder side of its character, in stark contrast to the ubiquitous ‘blue’ style of profiles we all know (and love or hate). I find commercially successful ‘blue’ notes rarely smell marine – they are more like laundry detergent and thus almost chlorinated – not a slight, but perhaps more functional-leaning than fine perfumery? This just wouldn’t work in Phloem. Focussing on the more sensual side of the marine profile was vastly more applicable.

Coriander seed took a little getting used to for me. In my formative training I found it very difficult to work with and no matter what, perceived that even the tiniest amount would poke through in an unbalanced manner. This was actually not the case! It transpired that I am, for better or worse, very sensitive to coriander and must approach the stuff with caution. Whenever I use coriander in a formulation, I ensure the formula is reviewed by several people to evaluate properly.

Over the years I have learned to 'work with the bug', so to speak, and I am more confident using coriander in formulations. Coriander seed is in some way the most important material in Phloem – even if only a small amount is used. The coriander seed here has been spiked with cis-3-hexenyl acetate, boosting the intensity of the impact, imparting a slight seafood freshness and then a flash of styrallyl acetate has been shot through the opening sensation to create a strange jelly-like quality. The resulting chord is convincingly fresh  Fruits de Mer, possessing a microcosm of oceanic facets that I find to be highly original and in no way associated with the popular ‘blue’ note perfumes. The chord is more jazz ‘blue’ note than Daz (a reference for all you U.K. readers!). 

Safraleine™ + Heliotropine + Rose Acetate = Persistent Muted Leathery Petals 

Safraleine™ is a characterful material and one that I find to be pretty unpredictable. That is, you think you know it – and how it will behave within a formulation – and then it does something completely unexpected once added to a formula. This can result in happy surprises or frustration. No matter how many hours you spend working with it or how many different styles of fragrance you deploy it in, you’ll probably find it won’t do what you thought it would and will most likely reformulate to account for the unexpected effects (or simply live with the new phenomenon, both are equally valid if something new is created as a net result!). 

Depending on the concentration or other materials used, Safraleine™ can sit front and centre or muted. Sometimes I like Safraleine™ to arrest the nose or use it more functionally to supplement other materials or sensations. It takes a more supportive role in Phloem, blended well into the profile.

I have discussed Heliotropine and rose acetate previously so I will mention only briefly – in Phloem they are both used to soften the leathery facet of Safraleine™ and extend this soft sueded petal tonality across the development, while further softening its initial impact. Heliotropine takes some of the aggressive edge off Safraleine™ and helps blend it into the sweeter side of the profile whilst rose acetate gives a petal-softness that maintains well into the advanced stages of Phloem’s development. 

Tonka Absolute, Amyris + Safranal = Vascular Tissue 

Phloem depends on a pretty high percentage of the finest Venezuelan tonka bean absolute to produce a sugary but greasy plant matter weirdness that radiates, giving a skin-like sweetness. Tonka bean really is wonderful stuff and extremely malleable within formulations. Like many materials that I have discussed, I like to find unexpected places for it, harnessing its ‘other’ properties extending far beyond its obvious sweet character.

Amyris is another material I am drawn back to time and again. Many comment that amyris is similar to sandalwood oil and I agree with this consensus – however amyris is nowhere near as refined a material and has a different, more rugged kind of beauty. I like the gentle smoky backnote inherent with amyris that makes it both attractive and more difficult to use, and find amyris’ presence can be felt more aromatically than sandalwood which sits more subservient in a formulation but improves any formulation.

Amyris isn’t as forgiving and is noticeable. Combinations with tonka bean are notable and both materials are good bedfellows; tonka softens amyris and amyris adds even greater richness and some structural support to tonka.

You will also find trace amount of safranal in Phloem. Don’t be fooled by the near non-existent amount used here – safranal is a key connective tissue and augments the sensation considerably. Safranal is like a strand of DNA in Phloem: so miniscule, but of vital importance. 

Phloem is, like most things in life, about balance!