"This morning, waiting for me on the table that I use as a desk, are bunches of white sweet peas*. I would have preferred them in bright acid colours: orange, pink, green, mauve and blue, but in terms of fragrance the white ones are preferable ... The smell of these flowers could become a possible theme, even if only a partial one, for a women's perfume.
When sweet peas are gathered in a bunch, they remind me of the ruffles on flamenco dresses. A single flower on its own is slender and its petals have an organdie quality. They do not have a definite smell, but one that hovers between roses, orange blossom and Sweet William, with their hint of vanilla. I scribble down the seven components I think I will need to sketch the smell. One, two, three trials to balance the proportions, and I add a note of carnation to the fourth trial, and then go on to correct that, too. The fifth trial feels right to me. I now have the outline of a fragrance with which to start a perfume."
That's from The Diary of a Nose: A Year in the Life of a Parfumeur by Jean-Claude Ellena, and for those who - like young Flavia de Luce - happen to have their own laboratory, the author goes on to give the formula for 'sweet pea no. 5'.
The book is quite fascinating because it's about a creative art and all the sensory stimuli and cultural influences - from literature to music, philosophy to ceramics and more - which inspire it. It's a unique account of a highly individual process, of a way of working and of the thought and ideas which culminate in a fragrance. I'm loving every word of it.
*White Ensign from my garden.