ETA: I found this draft that I wrote in September 2019. I was quite sick at the time; I wanted to write this, but it took most of my energy just to sit and think and make a few words appear. I remember that I didn’t finish it because I didn’t have the stamina to arrange and take a photo of the bottle. And I wanted it to be good. I was just physically unable to do “good” at that time. Then Timbre EdP was released and I wondered if I should just scrap this or add to it. Not long after that a lot of things happened to all of us, and I never came back to it.

Tonight I came across it and I’m not bothering with the photo. Or finishing, or editing. I’m just letting it be. So many things that I’ve done have stayed hidden away because I felt they could be better. I’m ready to be boldly and shamelessly imperfect now. Here’s what I wrote back then:

********************

The universe is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.

Eden Philpotts, A Shadow Passes

CHRIS RUSAK PERFUME

I started my blog in February of 2018, while recovering from a shoulder surgery. It was an antidote for boredom at a time when I couldn’t do much physically, and a form of “someone to talk to” while I was off work for nine months and learning that having lots of friendly co-workers isn’t the same as having lots of friends.

When I started the blog, I gave it a Facebook Page, an Instagram account, and a Twitter account, because that’s what one does. I also neglected all three because, as you learned in the last paragraph, I’m not very social.

LOL, JK — it’s because I’m old and don’t understand the “ways” of social media. Which is worse? I couldn’t say, but for whatever reason, I had these accounts and didn’t do much with them. Especially when I did go back to work, which was a terrible struggle physically, emotionally, and spiritually, for many more months.

So anyway, here I was last year with this Instagram account, and I’m posting a few crappy pictures to go with my rudimentary blog posts, and I’ve got about 30 followers. At some point which I can’t exactly remember, I gained a new follower and there were “likes” and real, intelligent comments on some of my posts from someone I didn’t know. That account was @chris.rusak.perfume. Like a blinking light in my brain I was unfollowed, then refollowed on a few occasions. The page was full of little visual treats that were intriguing, but I couldn’t quite tell what was happening perfume-wise.

This is the hustle of starting a new business, people. Remote interaction with strangers who have seemingly no interest or potential. But if you rattle enough cages, maybe you’ll stir up the right people, and find a few customers. I’m a little slow, but it did eventually spark some curiosity, so I looked at his actual website — and I was a bit surprised to find that he wasn’t selling any perfume. (In hindsight, that should have been a very good sign, but patience has never been my virtue).

Typical practice for an indie perfume house today seems to be launching out of nowhere with ten or twelve scents, all so similar that they create an ombré effect. Chris Rusak was introducing himself to the world as a perfumer by selling sample kits of unfinished compositions in various stages.

I’m sorry to say that, at the time, I didn’t jump into the bouncy-house and join in the fun. My inner circle of perfume geeks discussed it briefly, but none of us took the bait at the time. (I wish I had, because one of the earliest sets probably holds the key to a mystery I’ve been trying to unravel for weeks now.)

About a year later, when there was a sample set of finished perfumes available, I bought it, and let it sit for several months untouched. For some reason, in the midst of a serious no-buy, I happened to pick it up and find the lily fragrance that I didn’t know I needed. But that review is for another day.

Everything that was in the discovery set is special. They are all distinctly different, but form a tightly cohesive collection if you take the time to understand them. Chris Rusak has a style. Not a “signature,” as in some accord that lazily penetrates all of the work, like a fat piece of yarn poked through to tie everything (clumsily) together.

Rusak’s first five perfumes are like an expertly curated capsule collection. Taken together, they each have a different form, weight, and texture, but overall they fit the same person. They are a complete wardrobe. They are all true — in the sense of a compass bearing, and also in the sense of faithfulness to a vision. This isn’t a case of “something for everyone,” where the perfumer forced him/herself to deal us a mostly shitty hand of five different fragrance families (here’s your aquatic, here’s your fruiticholi, here’s your woody amber…)

TIMBRE EdT FRAGRANCE REVIEW

Timbre EdT is green, moist, and tight – acid green leather, citrus pith, zesty mandarin/grapefruit tartness, green resinous, metallic, just a hint of spring onion

So…. all I can think of when I wear it is — imagine wood blooming. It’s dense, but it unfurls to become less compact and more beautiful, it doesn’t change its constituents but it changes its geometry. This opens up space within that breathes air and life into its scent and allows it to diffuse further and more gracefully.

It’s a super modern, artistic take on a classic — the woody citrus aromatic. For the deep wood base — Vietnamese oud (very, very smooth and super dry) and myrrh. For the heart — sharp, clean cedar (this is the dense wood that “blooms”). For the top — Yuzu. Not the usual pithy, puny yuzu that burns off in five minutes. This yuzu is protected by a huge, green canopy of petitgrain and galbanum (a remarkably high quality galbanum, BTW) so it lasts long into the wear. This combination gives it a particularly potent bitter freshness — and is much more interesting than the lime or bergamot you’d typically find occupying this spot. This is a vibrant, brilliant acid green.

For me, though, the most fascinating part is what takes place in those “spaces” that open up when it blooms. There’s a minerality there, it reminds me of concrete or limestone after a rainstorm. Nature meets cityscape in a quiet but jarring collision that knocks a tiny bit of both into the air. That expansive smell of ozone that lingers.