Scented objects

Welcome to Back of the Napkin, musings from Serviette for the cultured world.

Serviette has long advocated for a less than conventional approach to fragrance application—one that extends beyond the usual jurisdiction of the neck and wrists. This is evidenced by the inclusion of an embroidered serviette with each purchase, a reminder of the historical precedent of scenting everyday objects and an invitation to experience your fragrance in a different way.

Though objects (handkerchiefs and otherwise) were typically scented throughout history with practicality in mind—usually with the end goal of protection from disease, which was closely associated with unpleasant odors—it is hard not to maintain an aesthetic appreciation for these largely forgotten aromatic objects.

Perfumed textiles were de rigueur in the aptly dubbed “perfumed court” of Versailles. Gloves, wigs, clothing, and fans were regularly bathed in aromatic concoctions, often featuring tuberose, orris, rose, and musks—King Louis XIV even had some of the palace’s fountains perfumed with orange blossom. Fragrant leather goods, particularly gloves, were so commonplace that their legacy was cemented in the mythology of their time. Folktales of “sweet gloves” used to deliver fatal toxins arose on more than one occasion, the most famous case being that of Catherine de Medici and Jeanne D’Albret.

Ancient Greek statues were often anointed with scented oils, waxes, and perfumes as a means of achieving “mimesis” (in other words, to make them seem more lifelike). Rose was customary, but it wasn’t uncommon to see—or rather smell—other mixtures of flowers and herbs. Ancient sources describe the process of anointing, washing, and dressing statues. In one set of inscriptions from Delos, temple accounts even list purchases of oil, wax, natron, and rose perfume for statue care. Though we have yet to confirm for ourselves, we highly suspect Priscus may be best enjoyed on marble.

Even paper has a storied history with fragrance. Developed in 1885, Papier d’Arménie (Armenian Paper) is a form of incense inspired by a trip to Armenia, in which French chemist Auguste Ponsot became infatuated with the locals’ habit of burning benzoin resin to cleanse and scent their homes. Ponsot created his own version: a small, accordion-style booklet of blotting papers, each of which had been soaked in a benzoin mixture for a soft, sweet, vanillic glow. A particularly chic way of scenting one’s home, in Serviette’s opinion.

Are there any favorites we forgot?