My Fragrance Wardrobe: Orin Carlin

I love the idea of having a signature fragrance but I’m firmly non-monogamous. There’s no way I could commit; it would be like having the same dinner every day for the rest of my life. I have a rotation of about a dozen favourites but often my choice is shaped by the season, the occasion, how I’m feeling, how I need to feel, what I want to project – invitational warmth, comfort, splendour, exuberance, power – or even the level of backbone I require that day. 

Clarins Eau Dynamisante is my lifeblood scent. I hardly ever wear it but it’s part of my bones. It reminds me of climbing on my mum’s bed, watching her get ready to go out. Whatever the occasion, she’d douse herself in a soothing, citrussy cloud. It’s a treatment fragrance rather than a traditional eau de parfum, so you can afford to be quite liberal with it. For me, it’s a signal of safety – to be without it would be unthinkable. 

As a child, I was fascinated by the idea of ‘perfume’. It seemed wildly glamorous but also shrouded in mystery. In an effort to create an elixir of my own, I spent hours foraging in the garden, filling an empty jam jar with my spoils. Buttery daffodils, mint leaves, bluebells, plump lavender flowerheads, frothy dandelion clocks – no plant went untouched. Then, water from the outside tap, birdseed, a handful of grass, some stones for good measure and finally, I laced it with liquid soap from the downstairs loo. I was thrilled with my handiwork, but my parents less so. 

Powdery, sparkly florals are my go-to. Frothy violet, iris and sudsy aldehydes – think Prada ‘Infusion D’Iris’ or Chanel ‘Misia’. Most of the time I want to smell like an old-fashioned bar of soap, only more magnetic. Honourable mentions go to grassy vetiver, blossomy neroli and round, sun-drenched bergamot, all of which are delightful in shower gel. I’m also very into bright white florals but rose reigns supreme. The idea that it’s one-dimensional or outdated couldn’t be further from the truth. ‘Luce Di Rosa’ by Acqua Di Parma is a current favourite, like a long-awaited swig of chilled Fentimans on a balmy afternoon. Then there’s Diptyque’s ‘L’Ombre Dans L’Eau’, the old friend I gravitate towards if I’m passing through Liberty or Space NK. Romantic and modern, the combination of rose, petitgrain and blackcurrant feels smooth and lush, a great one for both day and night. It would be remiss not to mention ‘Portrait Of A Lady’ by Frédéric Malle. Striking and memorable, but with a hedonistic, up-to-no-good undercurrent. It’s dancing on the tables but also falling into the gutter. Le Labo’s ‘Rose 31’ is the opposite, like a rosy-cheeked child. I simply won’t fly without it.