One of the most important plants in the Chinese material media, cinnamon is classified as a strengthening, food grade, life-protecting, ruler drug—an Upper Level Herb— in the Shennong Bencao Jing.
“Consumed over a long time it facilitates the breakthrough of spirit [illumination], lightens the body, and staves off aging. Grows in mountain valleys in the far south… [it] treats the hundred diseases, nurtures the essence spirit(s), harmonizes the complexion, and serves as advance emissary for all sorts of medicinals…”
As a classic herb for the TaiYang organs—cinnamon benefits kidneys and kidney essence-critical for life functions, and the sense of resourcefulness (the enough) from which we create for the highest good of all concerned.
Loss of kidney essence can result in looping addictive behaviors—the grasping to replenish the essence, and fill a sense of void.
For its ability to “tong shenming” (reconnect with the Divine—penetrate the Spirit of Illumination) and to strengthen the kidney essence, cinnamon energetically adds to the creative frequencies (and fragrance) of Myriad Three.
The gifts and virtues of the Scleranthus are indispensable for the creative process. This is the ability to make a choice through experience or intuition, and trust in it.
Those who suffer paralyzing indecision relate to the painful mechanism of back and forth that keeps them from choosing one path and enjoying the process of wonder that is the seeing through of a creative project. And what’s left? A lot of wasted time.
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The gifts and virtues of the Scleranthus are indispensable for the creative process. This is the ability to make a choice through experience or intuition, and trust in it.
Those who suffer paralyzing indecision relate to the painful mechanism of back and forth that keeps them from choosing one path and enjoying the process of wonder that is the seeing through of a creative project. And what’s left? A lot of wasted time.
Julian Barnard writes:
“While it is true the mental state will lead to physical symptoms, this is a remedy which has particular importance as guidance for the soul.
In the confusion of contemporary Western culture, with its marketing, hype and spin, we need the clarity of discrimination to see what is good for life and what is not.
Scleranthus, in its positive form ‘brings clearness of mental vision: ability for quick decision: determination and calmness in the face of difficulties.’ [It] offers a renewed connection to the higher worlds, through intuition and consciousness.”
And eventually, there is Krishnamurti's secret: the I don’t mind what happens.
Scleranthus is in Vibrational Fragrance Myriad Three, for frequencies of Creativity.
Rich in heavenly esters, Clary Sage spirits us into seeing clearly. For ourselves, by ourselves, for the greater good of all concerned.
In Vibrational Fragrance Harmonize 2.
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Rich in heavenly esters, Clary Sage spirits us into seeing clearly. For ourselves, by ourselves, for the greater good of all concerned.
In Vibrational Fragrance Harmonize 2.
Peony offers energies for creativity through the generosity of enough.
*Balbec made with spring water according to Edward Bach’s methods.
In Vibrational fragrance Myriad Three.
]]>When you don’t sleep while being driven, but with windows down—notice everything: limitless form without hierarchies or names. Filling beyond full and expanding the energetic field, where nothing is wasted, and everything can be unpacked at the right time and place.
Peony offers energies for creativity through the generosity of enough.
*Balbec made with spring water according to Edward Bach’s methods.
In Vibrational fragrance Myriad Three.
Viola odorata
Violets find enough space to balance generous purple crowns on superfine stems made strong with water.
True sovereigns--real queens and kings-- by the hundreds, side by side gracing the fields thanks to the ants that help them flourish. Nourished by large heart-shaped green leaves, and all the other queens and kings enjoying the same. Together they pulse their splendid and harmonized, actualized energies--helping to spin early May days.
Violet flower essence is Balbec made according to Edward Bach’s methods. In Vibrational Fragrance Harmonize Two.
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Violet and its leaves from the Vienna Dioscurides
The inky dowager of the collection. You can grow old plumbing Violet's soft emerald leaves and still feel naive in her presence.
A focus on mystery reels us back to the wisdom of fragrance. Violet Leaf is a subtle wind rush pulling us through the portal.
In Vibrational Fragrance Harmonize Two.
Bach’s description of people in a “Cerato state”: Those who have not sufficient confidence in themselves to make their own decisions.
They constantly seek out advice from others, and are often misguided.
Cerato types are often on trend. A disaster for today’s Cerato type: “misinformation” as rhetorical device prefacing what one says another should or should not think…about.
Says Cerato to the sufferer…drop in and listen.
Julian Barnard on Cerato:
“They should be wise teachers and instructors, but they seem to listen too much to other opinions, and be too easily influenced by outside circumstances.
Cerato allows its identity to be controlled by others.
It is just that self-knowledge Cerato people seek through their experience of life on earth. It is their soul lesson”
Ceratostigmata willmotiana doesn’t grow in a obviously organized way—it just grows outward.
Brought from China to Britain, Bach found this non-native growing cultivated in someone’s garden—to the relief of all those needing to go inward and tap into their intuition, and to the relief of all those plagued by Cerato types, their fifty questions and petitions for advice on everything…never heeded.
Cerato—for intuition, wisdom, and self possession, in Vibrational Fragrance Sovereign One.
The last #PlutoinAquarius passing was between 1778 and 1798. Yesterday it reentered after 248 years. The period was significant. In France, among other things, guilds were abolished in 1791; restrictions upon methods of production loosened; innovation and technology bloomed.
By the early 1800s, sumptuary laws that had kept luxe consumption for the elite classes were defunct. Journeymen, shopkeepers, domestic servants, artisans, and other members of the laboring class were allowed to buy, own, and wear objects that were once strictly out of reach. And people were wearing patchouli.
“A year or two ago no lady of ton was perfect unless she was enveloped, as it were, in the fragrance of this plant…a sort dry, mouldy, or earthy smell — not very enticing, certainly, by description, and much less so in reality...In the vegetable world it is the most permanent of odours.
The origin of its use is this, A few years ago, real Indian shawls bore an ex-travagant price, and purchasers could always distinguish them by their odour; in fact, they were perfumed with Patchouli.
The French manufacturers at length discovered this secret, and used to import this plant to perfume articles of their make, and thus palm off home-spun shawls for real India! "Hooker's J. Botany and Kew Garden Miscellany, 1849.
Sesquiterpene rich, grounding, tenacious, fixing, (and may I add delicious) Patchouli moves the qi, nourishes for the earth element, and is recommended for vertigo--energizing enhancing personal sovereignty. In the basenote of Sovereign One.
]]>We are introducing better packaging. You know our lovely insulating eco-felt envelopes? Well now, each time you receive one in the mail to keep your cleansers and hydrosols cool and fresh, you will also find an envelope stamped and addressed back to us. Unless you wish to keep your eco-felt envelope, you can place it (along with the twine if you wish) in the addressed envelope and mail it back. I'll keep it for you for the next time, repair it should it so require, and send it back to you with your next order, with another stamped envelope--and a $5 credit toward any oil of your choice--to use or accrue, it is entirely up to you. I know my customers are environmentally conscious and don't need an economic incentive, so please don't think of it as such, but rather as a way of using our collective resources more efficiently.
Many of you have received a lot of these felt envelopes by now, and while the eco-felt is entirely biodegradable, and you may have created a fabulous sound proof studio for yourselves or outfitted your friends and families with little lunch clutches, or found countless creative way to repurpose them, it isn't lost on me that at some point or another, you find yourself with yet another one, and I prefer you not to feel a tinge of that burden.
Now more than ever, luxury means enjoying an experience without casting a shadow elsewhere, needlessly wasting, compromising and/or accumulating. I feel regret every time a purchase I make includes excessive packaging; I find myself trying not to focus on those perfunctory flimsies that go straight into the recycling bin (or worse, can't be recycled). The whole chain of effort and process flashes before my eyes: the ink and paper that was chosen and paid for, the boxes being shipped to the factory or to the printers, the dying, the stamping, the packing, the travel back to hq. Many of these boxes are too flimsy to repurpose. The ones we can repurpose we do-- tea boxes, yogurt glasses, bubble wraps that need re-using must be accommodated; tidiness helps, but flexibility and creativity is imperative. So much time spent managing just far too much packaging!!
Happily, at Balbec we can help keep the spark joyful. I want you to be delighted when you receive your envelope of fresh skincare. Ship it back and you'll see it again when I ship it to you for your next order, and so on. We are finally tying up a loose end, and this part and parcel of the energetic mission of Balbec.
The Energetics of Live Probiotic Skincare
We started with the premise of properly nurturing what should already be yours--a healthy acid mantle-- through daily use skincare consisting of live probiotics, organic and wildcrafted aromatherapeutic essential oils and botanicals. I still believe live probiotic skincare makes for the finest skincare. When properly done, there is no concern of compromise--nothing that is unfriendly on the skin or when rinsed down the drain. There is only longterm gain for the health of your skin. Within the wider field of probiotic skincare, Balbec remains unusually energetic because our probiotics are live, in whole food form, free of preservatives and heat based formulations that render probiotics ineffective. Should I come across an acceptable way to stabilize our clay and yogurt based cleanses, you'll be the first to know. For now high-quality, live probiotic skincare lives in the refrigerator.
When we started I wondered how on earth this could work. But it did because you were willing to receive a cleanser in an insulated envelope, and refrigerate it for the sake of freshness. Together we have made this work and have made it something of the every day, normal.
The Energy in the Preparing
Keeping the ingredients potent, live, and active in the making leads to a more energetic product, and therefore our products have a life span not a shelf life. We do this by sourcing our ingredients equitably and eco-consciously and by using utensils and vessels that keep the electrical charge of the clays so that they remain effective. Our violet glass (see below) keeps our ingredients in beautiful form.
The Energy of Wrapping and Unwrapping:
On our end:
Like most businesses, we receive a lot of packaging, which we reuse, recycle, and repurpose. We are fortunate to have found local shipping companies who kindly accept for reuse the pesky packing peanuts we receive.
How we package Balbec:
Our violet glass is a beautiful and effective preservative for our products. Through “biophotonics” (bio meaning life and photonics, light), superior preservation is possible because molecular decay is slowed significantly by the application of only beneficial light. You can reuse the violet glass you receive to keep your own spices and flowers and herbs fresh. Should you choose not to, both glass and lids are completely recyclable, and the latter are made from non-petroleum based plastic. When we started years ago, I learned that all glass is not recyclable. Green, brown, blue glass goes straight to the land fill--another psychic burden.
Twine and paper. To wrap our oils and Nomad we use lustrous kraft paper, 100% recycled and reusable for your grocery lists, and book marks and notes to self.
The ice packs. Keep and refreeze these as they will withstand many occasions--lunches and picnics with ice cream and champagne.
The eco-felt envelopes--the star of this show is undyed, cleaned but unprocessed wool punched into felt. Wool is considered one of the most ecosensitive fabrics, and as we know, makes a lovely insulator.
What we are creating is a skincare experience that is comfortable for our skin, our emotions, and our conscience. It is an experience that can withstand full focus, and forms of a circle of energy, that begins with an agreement for fresh and better, between you and me...for a joyful we.
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Oakmoss, Evernia prunastri
Clean air breathing lichens that make their homes and livelihoods by holding on to branches of oak trees. Here it’s safe to slowburst into jade hued land corals, mini forests, or soft stag horns—buy one, get twenty-three free.
Fragrant Layers of wet woods holograph into every molecule and fronds, liquefying (just about) into the absolute that is a slow, studied pour.
Oakmoss extends the grace of its host, the oak through doctrine of signature: the absolute functions as “fixative” in perfumery—holding fast to the other oils and absolutes, to the body of the thing they all become together so that every contribution is recorded and each can sing its wonder.
Oakmoss is favored in the basenote of Sovereign One because it brings the forest, holds the fragrance formula together, and reminds: as we grow into our own selves, adding our own unusual thing to the collective, that it is only possible, enjoyable, or worth it because we depend upon and are one with all that is.
]]>Krishnamurti observed that “We are second-hand people. We have lived on what we have been told, either guided by our inclinations, our tendencies, or compelled to accept by circumstances and environment. We are the result of all kinds of influences, and there is nothing new in us, nothing that we have discovered for ourselves: nothing original, pristine, clear”
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Iris pallida
This post is part of a series that profiles each ingredient in Balbec's three upcoming vibrational fragrances. These fragrances, composed of flower essences and essential oils explore frequencies of sovereignty, benevolent connection, and dreaming/imagining anew.
Krishnamurti observed that “We are second-hand people. We have lived on what we have been told, either guided by our inclinations, our tendencies, or compelled to accept by circumstances and environment. We are the result of all kinds of influences, and there is nothing new in us, nothing that we have discovered for ourselves: nothing original, pristine, clear”
And yet we are creatures that attune: to language, to music, to atmosphere, to programming old and new, to characters, to flavor and fragrance, to others’ moods, and to nature. So which frequencies shall we choose, rather than merely absorb?
Irises have been flowering in the past weeks in the Northern hemisphere. Among its gifts and its energetic frequencies? Sovereignty.
Iris’ rhizomes ground down and travel, bud and stem slip from the sides of the two-dimensional knife edged leaves like ideas in the form of paper cut outs, gaining another dimension as they travel up and up to attain a fully flowering crown.
Long held as a symbol of creativity, inspiration, and sovereign rule, Iris embodies a stable connection between earth and spirit. Its exceptionally valuable energetic gift is to establish balance and electromagnetic integrity within even compromised environments or conditions. Sustaining a frequency and stable electromagnetic field provides subtle catalysts for becoming evermore sovereign— to complete our own circuits, fill our own voids, exercise discernment, ground down a bit more to rise.
While the fresh crown of iris pallida offers the energetic flower essence of iris, aged iris rhizomes yield the fragrance that adds a soft, warm, and delicate anchoring in the base chord of our vibrational fragrance Sovereign One.
Acupoint for application:
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Nannina as Madonna in Botticelli's Madonna del Magnificat, 1481
A while ago, I posted an instagram detailing a few delights from the poem, but here it is in its entirety from Early Modernist Allison Levy's: "The Plastered Female Face in Fifteenth-Century Florence: A Translation of Luigi Pulci's 'Le galee per Quaracchi,'" in Kristische Berichte, 2017. In its early stages, I had the pleasure and honor of contributing to her translation.
Enjoy and do your double takes, but really: some of the things we take as normal now are equally odd...are they not?
Bee on Lips, Irving Penn, 1995
The Galleys Bound for Quaracchi
The galleys bound for Quaracchi
set sail to the winds
and reached safe harbor—
despite the cargo within—
thanks to some Jack,
from Contraband City,
and two local bosses,
who gave the order
to ferry the booty
straight to the border.
The clerk from Capalle
made a very long list
of all of the lading,
which went something like this:
For the head and the hair
first a vat full of bleach,
so filled to the brim
I sunk an arm in;
enough aquavit to flood a canal
and for facials, a mortar slosh;
but I can’t understand the rationale
behind the banana squash!
Nor that unsavory solution
of brown water and broom—
it could only have come
from a sewage room.
Who knows how many lupins,
seemed an entire collection,
said to soften wrinkles
and cure bad complexions;
plus two casks of astringents,
both filled to the top,
for tightening pores
and for lightening one’s mop;
huge barrels of sulfur,
both yellow and black,
to mix up solutions
for unsightly attacks;
for still other ablutions,
so much purified soap
that counting it all
was a forlorn hope.
With horsehair by the handful
and gum to make things grow,
thicker manes
they said would show.
Oh, come on now!
Must I write this stuff down?
For itchy scalps and dandruff,
they had whole jars of snake oil—
and lizard lard, too.
Plus heaps of ground goose fat,
powder puffs, and poufs.
So blanched in a talc
of lily and squid,
these dainties must have emptied the kegs
then—heaven forbid!—
scavenged the dregs.
To rinse the paste,
which slims the face,
were a good six casks
of lemon, melon,
and cantaloupe water;
plus pumpkin and white figs,
wild bush and vines;
add to that fava,
flowers, and pine;
twigs thick as branches,
and sprigs and shoots;
extract of pimpernel
and other juice:
tonics of mallow and burning bush,
of elder flower and elm;
one could do a field report on each cask—
I was thoroughly overwhelmed!
They brought dishrags and greases
to fill in the creases
caused by Old Man Winter,
who’d left their little faces
all dried up and splintered.
They packed boiled must and fresh cheese,
iris, peach pit, and broad beans;
gypsum by the jug
to whiten the mug;
twelve gallons of lotions
and various potions
to cure the pox
and other eruptions;
to skip the infirmary,
they brought their own gurney
and loaded it down
with sea salts and mercury.
Six boxes overflowing
with camphor and borax
kept skin calm and brightly glowing.
Rosacea they quelled
with a balm of lily and
powdered eggshells.
You wouldn’t believe it—
the concoctions they shipped;
it’s truly a wonder
the boats didn’t flip!
To redden the cheeks
of those of green or yellow cast,
there was a huge ball of rouge
and two or more of witch grass.
These ladies weren’t kidding!
There were stone flowers galore
and ten barrels of red dye, horseradish and borage,
and pumpkin leaves, more
than any herd could ever gobble.
To depilate their brows,
they brought a wondrous assortment:
razors and shards,
pumice and orpiment.
Mixing pots
held preparations
for poultices
and other applications;
I saw a serum of egg whites
and dried snail shells,
to polish and buff
all that was rough;
but did they really need
a hundred vials of the stuff?
And there for the taking
was a forbidden fat—
suet concealed in ampoules,
said to impart a pearly luster
and to banish ugly pustules.
Acacia gum by the keg gave me pause—
there was enough to feed an army—
used, I was told, for applying gauze
to turkey necks and
similar wrecks.
For smallpox scars
and other defects,
donkey milk by the drum;
and to clean one’s teeth—
as a rule of thumb—
if ground coral and brick
didn’t do the trick,
they brought piles of pesto
made from a mash
of carnations and sage,
sour grapes and antler ash.
There were baskets full
of secret agents:
rosemary, honey, and garden patience.
Sponges by the dozen
and cotton pads—
but surgical dressings?
These women were mad!
Little pieces of felt
and stacks of cork
went under the heel,
to rise like a stork.
Still other strange tools
were shipped by these fools:
pharmaceutical wrappers
and medicine jars,
flasks, vials, and mirrors—
truly bizarre!—
plus boxes and bowls,
and glasses and basins.
There were broaches and combs
and I hasten
to add: hairpins and earrings,
some shaped like half-moons,
plus wigs of every color
to be worn by these loons.
To decorate the head
there were plenty of inventions,
like paper ribbons
and goat hair extensions;
garlands and hats
and other toppers,
so large and so many
they were held in huge hoppers;
hair ties and rubber bands
to control loose strands;
plus add-ons like braids
and other pieces they’d made.
Not to mention the pile
of hemp and textiles,
which rose—God help me—
as high as the sky!
I thought we would drown
from the weight of the crowns,
the tails and the bonnets,
the trinkets and bling,
and the thousand other
frivolous things.
O poor husbands,
you blind buffoons!
Give these girls a kick—
send ’em straight to the moon!
For I know well from where I speak;
it’s three days in and all they’ve done
is dress up and giggle and gossip and squeak.
One day they sailed along the shore,
a scene that was hardly serene;
for with all of their humming,
the whole world heard them coming.
But then,
at the end—
it felt like a dream—
all of a sudden
they ran out of steam.
They no longer cared
about the flies in the air,
nor bee stings nor bites,
nor disheveled hair.
Why the dismay?
Their cosmetics used up,
they could no longer play
Miss Priss or PinUp.
So take my advice:
steer clear of a wife.
But if you’ve already fallen
into her trap,
curse her often
and give her a slap.
The galleys bound for Quaracchi.
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can we speak in flowers. it will be easier for me to understand.
~Nayyirah Waheed
When I have the chance to meet my customers in person, our first connection is through aromatherapy. I hold up bamboo spoonfuls of our clay and yogurt cleansers for them to inhale, mist a hydrosol into the air between us and invite them to walk into clean, soft drift. Finally I offer the bottles of our moisturizing oils for them to breathe in. I like to guess to myself which I think they might like best and offer that first. I can't say that I guess correctly, but I have noticed there are specific responses that follow certain oils. The Moisturizing oil with Neroli and Frankincense often elicits an expression of relief and resonance. Some can't help but affirm-- to themselves more than to me: "oh I love neroli", in a way that is unique for the love of neroli. And why wouldn't they? Spectacularly fruiting and flowering at the same time, the bitter orange tree, Citrus aurantium, var. amara is at once the promise of joy and its fulfillment.
Bitter or bigarade orange blossoms bloom In April and/or May and are hand harvested several times a week--some again in October. In Tunisia and Morocco bitter orange is grown commercially for an eager flavor, fragrance, and aromatherapy industry. 100 lbs. of beautiful, white bitter orange blossoms yield 1 lb. of neroli oil through steam distillation, so it is a very expensive oil, and moreso for an organic cultivation. That is not all this tree gives: there is petitgrain oil that is distilled from the woody, twiggy parts of the plant, and there is orange oil, taken from the actual skin. The fruit itself is bitter--better suited for a delicious marmalade than a freshly peeled, off the tree dessert.
Native to Vietnam, South China, and India, orange blossom and neroli oil were used in ancient Egypt, and Chinese Medicine and Ayurveda for centuries. Citrus in general seems to have migrated West at different times, although it is commonly held that the bitter orange arrived centuries earlier than the sweet orange. I believe two things are certain: 1) the migration was relatively easy as the trees can be cultivated by seed and in cooler climates withstand a bit of frost, but certainly make it overwintering in a lovely glass greenhouse. No wonder neroli is beautiful for stress management. 2) There is something about bitter orange blossom and its resulting neroli oil that is friendly, inviting, expansive, and made to travel.
While it would require time and dedication to find accounts of the traders, gardeners, and harvesters all along the trade routes who actually cared for, cultivated, and physically carried the seeds and/or plants, it is nothing to find stories related to well-known personalities linked to bitter orange blossom in the West. But because there have always been luxuries to choose from and appropriate as a marks of excellence, the real question is: what makes the orange blossom a special choice? Orange blossoms and neroli soothe anxiety, lift depression, encourage and embolden. A preference for neroli might then indicate a soft and even vulnerable side of a Hera, Louis XIV, the Medici, Princess of Nerola, etc. Perhaps a better way to think about it is this: through a significant connection with orange blossoms or neroli, something in the bodies and minds of these people understood that the the way forward was related to release and a state of calm.
Reassuring the Gods
Through trade routes with Asia, citrus made its way to Greece and into Greek mythology. Alexander the Great is believed to have brought citrus from India in the third century BCE, and Greek colonists might have introduced them into Palestine about one hundred years later. Citrus spread to Italy where citriculture continued in Sardegna, Sicily, and Corsica. The Greek introduction was earlier and distinct from the more robust Arab importation in the 11th century via the Iberian peninsula that rooted citrus as a feature of North African and Iberian agriculture and culture in general.
As indicated in the Greek mythology, citrus was special and uncommon (and it seems that the golden apple might have actually been some kind of citrus). As Chinese and Arab brides traditionally used pure white orange blossoms in their wedding accoutrements to dispel the anxiety of the newly married couple, so did Gaea offer orange trees as wedding gift to Hera at the time of her marriage to Zeus. The wedding gifts were said to be guarded and cultivated in the garden of the Hesperides at a far corner of the Earth.
The Garden of Hesperides by Ricciardo Meacci
It is a luxury to smell, use, have, contemplate and benefit from orange blossom in the dead of winter--thus the obsession with coveted orange trees in tubs that overwinter in greenhouses. These were one of Louis XIV's preoccupations. In The Sun King (1967), Nancy Mitford tells of how in dressing down the opulence of his finance minister Nicholas Fouquet before sending him to jail, Louis XIV helped himself to what he liked at Fouquet's Vaux-le-Vicomte, including a lot of orange trees:
"The King took a certain amount of loot from Vaux-le-Vicomte and thought himself justified by the fact that its contents had been paid for out of public money, in other words, his own. Archives, tapestry, brocade hangings, silver and silver gilt ornaments, statues and over a thousand orange trees found their way to the royal palaces. The orange trees alone represented a considerable sum; a sizable one even nowadays costs a hundred pounds. The King was passionately fond of them and had them in all his rooms, in silver tubs. (Perhaps if one were exiled from France the single object most reminiscent of that celestial land would be an orange tree in a tub). Eight of Louis XIV's own trees still exist in the Orangery at Versailles to this day" (11).
Louis the XIV also poached Fouquet's gardener Le Notre, who would create the Orangerie from 1684-1686 to care for, display, and organize the court's experience of the orange trees. Louis XIV was not a bather and perfume was a very important part of court life; the scent of orange blossom was said to be his favorite. In Citrus A History, Pierre Laszlo writes that Louis XIV "displayed [his orange trees] as a testimony to his godlike dominion over nature...In sum, the Orangerie at Versailles was a central piece in the representation of royal power" (48-49). While the Sun King was famously unflappable, my guess is his need orange trees in every room indicates he wasn't above a little of aromatherapeutic assistance.
Marie Anne de la Tremoille des Ursins (1642-1722) became an important political figure in the Spanish government during the War of the Spanish Succession. Her work was not easy--one of her accomplishments was bringing order to the government finances. She loved neroli and perfumed her gloves with it, making it fashionable well before the popularity of Eau de Cologne.
Also known as the Princess of Nerola, it is believed that the oil was named for her. I can't help but think that given "La Nerola's" strength and determination, her choice of neroli was also about harnessing the support of this extraordinary oil to enhance self awareness and well being. Here is where we all might take La Nerola's cue as we work, seek creative solutions, help our families and friends thrive, square the accounts, and try to bring into focus the very best of ourselves. A little encouragement from neroli goes a long way, so go ahead and breathe in and flow.
Why I like Neroli for skincare
To start with, neroli is safe and non-sensitizing. It is suitable for delicate and sensitive skin and is not phototoxic, which means it won't sensitize the skin to damaging sun rays. Neroli is a beautiful treatment for acne prone skin, helps prevent scarring, and speeds healing. It is a sedative and therefore allows the skin to continue healing itself despite stressful conditions. Neroli stimulates cell generation, and is good for maintaining cellular health. It tones the skin, promotes good circulation and is the recommended oil for broken capillaries. It is an excellent treatment for wrinkles.
Neroli at Balbec
Neroli is one of the few essential oils that we use at Balbec. It is in two of our products...one forthcoming.
Moisturizing oil with Neroli & Frankincense combines two extraordinary essential oils known to stimulate the generation of skin cells and help skin remain healthy despite stressful conditions. The base is a blend of meadow foam seed, camellia seed, grapeseed and baobab seed oil. A wildcrafted and organic oil that nourishes delicate, sensitive skin and has a warm, sunny, & green scent profile. Wonderful alone or under makeup.
Nomad
Nomad is our new prebiotic clay cleansing powder (available in the coming weeks). It is a traveler, and so little surprise that neroli blends with hinoki (Hinoki cypress), vetiver, and frankincense as the leading aromatherapeutic and fragrant note. Nomad activates with water for a fresh dose of vitamin C to the skin. It is a very beautiful (and very red, thanks to the hibiscus) cleanser, to refresh and relax the skin at home or away.
For a wintertime pick-me-up, for help persevering with projects, moving, traveling, or trying to provide a sense comfort to an otherwise exciting or uncertain situation, try and see if a little neroli can make the experience softer, and the path more inviting.
Works Consulted:
Bensouilah, Janetta and Buck, Phillippa. Aromadermatology: Aromatherapy in the Treatment and Care of Common Skin Conditions. Radcliffe Publishing Ltd., 2006.
Laszlo, Pierre. Citrus A History. The University of Chicago Press, Chicago & London, 2007.
Mitford, Nancy. The Sun King. New York Review Books, New York, 1967.
Tisserand, Robert. The Art of Aromatherapy: The Healing and Beautifying Properties of Essential Oils of Flowers and Herbs. Inner Traditions International, 1978.
Worwood, Valerie Ann. The Fragrant Mind: Aromatherapy for Personality, Mind, Mood and Emotion. New World Library, 1996.
“Orange Blossom Week???Part 1: True Renditions” on the Perfume Shrine blog.
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In the mid 1990s I moved to NYC for graduate school and there was much to love: I could walk everywhere, there were independent movie theaters, grocery stores were stocked with Asian pears, olives, unusual chocolate, litchi nuts, litchi-flavored gummy Japanese candy, donut shaped peaches, excellent teas, Portuguese rolls, and fondue in packages. I regularly called home to describe my trips to the grocery. There was opera and Summer Stage in Central Park, the yoga studio I attended was a quiet, spartan space with florescent lighting and a curtain that served as a changing room. There was Body and Soul in Tribeca—a Sunday daytime dance club that my best friend disappeared into all afternoon. No velvet ropes, no degrading lines, no alcohol-- just a stretch of lovely music for dancers in sneakers.
There were also the startling things: Giuliani was mayor and there were large rodents. On early summer mornings park workers whizzing through Riverside Park on golf carts squeezed streams of industrial strength synthetic deodorizer to keep the park fresh. Independent book sellers were drying out and investment banking drove young people very hard. The vintage shops were expensive and people spoke in aggressive tones.
I arrived frumpy. My first week of classes I wore a 1950s charm bracelet to the library and met with reproachful stares. That same first week, I entered a subway car on the 1/9 wearing patchouli and a student looked up and asked "What is that stink? It's like those shops on St. Mark's where they're all smoking pot.” Marijuana was never my thing, and my friends who smoked it never wore patchouli. What else? Fevers ran high for ubiquitous designer handbags. Those with less money but equal desire for the same bags made trips downtown to Canal street seeking out appreciable 'copies'. Or maybe they were real; Saviano's 2006 Gomorra made it forever impossible to spot or denounce a genuine or fake in the corporate fashion world.
The history of consumption is replete with such fevers; if it isn't one thing it's another. But can you imagine if in order to draw the “copied” handbags closer to the feeling of wealth, security, and status that they symbolized, they were infused with a scent and that scent was patchouli? What if a correctly sewn label, or a hallmark stitch indicating the intellectual property of the maker was not the benchmark of authenticity, but rather a scent that would validate the experience of the user?
I don't know when patchouli first made its way to Europe, but its presence there in the early to mid 1800s had significant consequences. Patchouli arrived in the form of crisp and fragrant dried leaves placed in the packing material of silk fabrics and shawls woven in and exported from India. In the early 1800s, Napoleon is said to have acquired some of the patchouli-wrapped Indian shawls in Egypt (some speculate that among them were Tibetan goat-haired shahtoosh shawls) and gave them to Josephine de Beauharnais. Apparently she liked them so much that she had to have more. Many more. Soon, Indian shawls were a coveted luxury for the French elite. Patchouli leaves were used to deter insects and worms from destroying the precious fabric and garments during shipping. In production, they had also been placed on the fabrics to preserve whatever artisans had already woven. Patchouli being patchouli, a fixative and now of course widely used as a lasting base note in perfumery, it remained in the shawls and silks-- perfuming them through and through.
1/2 a stereograph: "Humble Shawl Weavers in Kashmir" ca. 1903
The shawls were special acquisitions in their own right, but the scent of patchouli with which they were imbued became a vital part of the experience. The pleasure of owning them was a synaesthetic one, an amalgam of the visual, tactile, and the olfactory senses. Coarser woolen shawls of similar styles began to made in France and in Scotland, but they didn't feel the same. And more importantly, they didn't smell the same. What of the patchouli—the distinctive fragrance that was both a sensual delight and denoted the special export value of the fabrics?
L'Imperatrice Josephine, Pierre-Paul Prud’hon (1758-1823)
Immortalized wearing one of her many patchouli-scented Indian shawls.
By 1826, French perfumers had discovered the source: those dried leaves in the packing. They imported patchouli plants, grew them in hothouses, distilled the leaves to make the oil or perfume and fragranced the shawls. Some were ambivalent about the discovery, but now the shawls were really selling. W.J Hooker writes in his Hooker's J. Botany and Kew Garden Miscellany, 1849:
"An ingenious writer, in the Gardener's Chronicle (1849, p. 645), on the odours of plants, remarks — 'It has been said, by an eminent French perfumer, that the odour of Patchouli was a ' disgrace to the art '; such, however, is the result of fashion, that a year or two ago no lady of ton was perfect unless she was enveloped, as it were, in the fragrance of this plant, the odour of which is very peculiar — a sort dry, mouldy, or earthy smell — not very enticing, certainly, by description, and much less so in reality...In the vegetable world it is the most permanent of odours. The origin of its use is this, A few years ago, real Indian shawls bore an ex-travagant price, and purchasers could always distinguish them by their odour ; in fact, they were perfumed with Patchouli. The French manufacturers at length discovered this secret, and used to import this plant to perfume articles of their make, and thus palm off home-spun shawls for real India! "(330).
Was this simply early marketing with fragrance, and/or another story of copies? Was it a case of empty-headed women feeling the need to consume fashion to find their perfection? There's more to it. As far as copies go, if they were going to be made, France was the place to do it. By the beginning of 19th century, sumptuary laws that had restricted luxe consumption to the elite classes were defunct. This meant that journeymen, shopkeepers, domestic servants, artisans, and other non-elite members of the laboring class were allowed to buy, own, and wear objects that were once strictly out of reach. And they did. As guilds were abolished in 1791, methods of production were also less restricted, and there was greater space for innovation and technological developments. Luxury or rather “populuxe” goods—cheaper versions of luxury goods, arguably of still great quality—gold watches, furniture, woolen shawls—were created in less expensive ways and met a demand. (Cissie Fairchild “The Production and Marketing of Populuxe Goods in Eighteenth-Century Paris", Consumption and The World of Goods, 1993)
I don't know if French patchouli-perfumed woolen shawls were only passed off as Indian at high prices or if they were also sold at more affordable prices as 'populuxe' goods to the working class. And, despite the belief that the fragrance of patchouli was meant to authenticate a real Indian shawl, it is really hard to say which 'patchouli' anyone was smelling at any given time.
There are many possible ways the 'authentic' patchouli might have smelled. This is because: 1) Dried leaves smell different than the oil. As chemicals can be lost in the distillation process, plant material and distilled oil are not always chemically identical. Thus, a patchouli oil or perfume that was used to fragrance shawls would have had an effect different than that of dried leaves. 2) Patchouli changes as it ages, and indeed along with sandalwood, vetiver, frankincense, it is one of the few essential oils that does age beautifully. 3) Patchouli is a fixative, which means it fixes other scents that combine with it, such as: the odor of the wool or whatever might have been mixed in with the oil by perfumers. This fixative quality is important to remember for those who dislike the patchouli “stink”, and associate it with unwashed young ones of a certain time with time on their hands. Of course patchouli has an earthy, herbal smell, but mixed with B.O, it can magnify, not simply mask it. 4) It isn't entirely clear which species of patchouli were responsible for marking the woolen shows as authentic Indian.
In 1837, Francisco Manuel Blanco, the Spanish Friar and botanist who was assigned to the Philippines registered Pogostemon cablin as Mentha cablin Blanco in his Flora de Filipinas. It became known as the source of true patchouli. Considered native to the Philippines where it was known as cablan, it is truly divine and the commercial patchouli that is used in perfumery and aromatherapy. At various times, P. cablin has also been called: P. patchouly, P. patchouli, P suavis, P. patchouli var. suavis, and P. javanicus.
But the patchouli of the early French shawls might have come from any number of species in the Pogostemon genus that were used medicinally and cosmetically in India and Sri Lanka for centuries. They could have been Pogostemon heyeanus, or P. benghalensis and/or P. plectranthoides, or P. pubescens, all of which are related to P. cablin (and all of which belong to the mint or Lamiaceae (Labiatae) family).
If we can trust the records, (one can't always), the species P. cablin didn't even make it to India until 1834 (only three years before Blanco described it), where it was supposedly introduced to Nathaniel Wallich, Superintendent of the Calcutta Botanical Gardens. In the Bombay markets, all the Indian patchoulis were sold under the single vernacular names: "pachpat" in Bengali, in Tamil "pacchilai:, from "pacchai" meaning green and "ilai", leaf, or in Malayalum: "pacholy". When P. cablin showed up, it was close enough to be given the same name.
It is unlikely that P. cablin was the Pogostemon species to perfume the early shawls that the French adored. The plants native to South Asia would have been the ones to make the trips to Europe to protect precious textiles. Indeed in 1815, according to French botanist Rene Louiche Defontaines, there were Pogostemon plants in the hothouses of the Jardin des Plantes that were sourced from South India. Among them may have been P. plectranthoides.
It's quite possible then that the French elite weren't enjoying P. cablin at all until the mid 1800s, but rather a collection of other Pogostemon species. Still, it isn't out of the question. P. cablin had been used in China for centuries medicinal purposes. There, Guang Huo Xiang (P. cablin) was apparently introduced between (420-589 BCE) and had been cultivated as a medicinal plant for the spleen, stomach, and lung meridians since the 11th c. in Guangdong Province. As such it was called Guang Huo Xiang to distinguish it from Huo Xiang (Agastache rugosa), an entirely different genus used for similar purposes. Given the trade routes, leaves and things could have gotten around. In any case, we do know that by 1844 the P. cablin was the patchouli import of choice, with Chinese leaves shipping to London via New York.
Part of the point here is that patchouli, or the patchoulis rather, are real plants and outstanding herbs--a fact underscored by the strong love/hate reaction that people have to it. As such, their effects can be significant on us. P. cablin patchouli (the one that I am most familiar with), has a complex molecular structure and is a natural sedative, known to uplift and balance the emotions. It is a most eloquent plant, and I do think that when we use essential oils, we have the chance to opt into a special communication with plants.
In Art of Aromatherapy, Robert Tisserand writes of the 19th century German doctor, Gustav Fechner who wondered “could not flowers communicate with each other by the very perfumes they exude, becoming aware of each other's presence in a way more delightful than by means of the verbiage of humans which is seldom delicate or fragrant except, by coincidence, in lovers” (16).
Fechner speaks of flowers and the potential of real perfumes to communicate beyond the scope of human speech. In the case of the French craze for Indian shawls, the synaesthetic experience was not predetermined, but an outcome of necessary preservation measures. But there was clearly in play another factor: a sense of mystery. It took some time to understand just what that fragrance was, cultivate the plants, and produce the essential oils. Talk about slow beauty.
By comparison today's scent marketing seems overdetermined. Now brands try to engineer emotional connections with consumers by pumping signature synthetic perfumes into hotels and stores through air ducts in the ceiling to “better deploy” the “multisensory experience” in a “uniform, more consistent, safer fashion” (Ad Age, “Dollars & Scents: From Clothes to Cars to Banks, Brands Seek Distinction Through Fragrance How Marketers Are Selling With a Signature Sensory Experience.” 12/9/14). It's no wonder that Many Aftel, the natural perfumer of Berkeley's Afterlier Perfumes believes that “most people...have only ever had the olfactory equivalent of McDonald’s.’’ (NYTimes, 2/3/16)
Tisserand goes on to write of our sense of smell:
"The sense of our distant ancestors were probably more acute than ours. Civilisation may bring refinement in some senses, but it cannot increase the acuity of our basic instincts and the perception of our senses. We do not use our nose to 'smell' the direction of the wind, the whereabouts of an enemy, or the tracks of an animal, although there are a few tribes in South America who can track by smell. Smelling fine perfumes may increase our appreciation of sophisticated scents but we have lost the ability to smell an enemy, a poisonous herb, or a particular disease. It has been said before that the sense of smell is very closely linked to the proverbial 'sixth sense'"(18).
So, to the “ingenious writer in the 1895 Gardener's Chronicle”: Maybe the ton ladies who loved patchouli weren't merely being empty-headed and ton; maybe they were being sensitive. And to the student who objected to my wearing patchouli on the subway: at least you were able to smell it.
Patchouli at Balbec
I love patchouli. I have used P. cablin for over thirty years because it is bottomless and earthy and a deep green that doesn't mean any one thing to me. It is more like the spaces between thoughts. And now I've become curious about other patchoulis,
At Balbec wildcrafted P. cablin is one of the few aromatherapeutic oils that we use because it is a safe for skin care and has a long history of use in traditional medicine. It is balancing, good for both dry and oily skin, beneficial when treating acne, dermatitis, eczema, and healing scars. At present we use it in our Moroccan Clay and Yogurt Cleanser in combination with geranium. Sometimes I think that the blend of patchouli and geranium evokes that old mint, Sen Sen, which was flavored with patchouli. Kind of. Have you ever tried it?
And quite soon we will have the pleasure of releasing Balbec's hair oil, CHOULI. It is a nourishing blend of herbs and botanicals treasured in the Japanese and Indian traditions for hair care. Chouli features vintage patchouli and hinoki (Japanese Cypress), and is absolutely beautiful. It is named for "Chul", which means hair in Bengali, and "Chouli", a derogatory name for a patchouli wearing hippie. Stay tuned--With our friends and family test group, it has been quite de rigueur.
And finally, we continue to wait patiently as we age bottles of Patchouli, Vetiver, Sandalwood, and Frankincense essential oils in house. Who knows in which form they will reach you? It will probably feel like a dream.
Texts Referenced:
DeBaggio, Thomas, and Tucker, Arthur O. The Encyclopedia of Herbs: A Comprehensive Reference to Herbs of Flavor and Fragrance., 2nd Ed., Timber Press, 2009.
Fairchild, Cissie “The Production and Marketing of Populuxe Goods in Eighteenth-Century Paris", Consumption and The World of Goods. Eds. Brewer John and Porter, Roy, Routledge, 1993.
Hooker, W.J., Hooker's J. Botany and Kew Garden Miscellany. Reeve, Benham and Reeve, Strand, 1849.
Murugan, R and Livingstone, C., "Origin of the Name 'patchouli' and its History". Current Science, Vol. 99, 10 November, 2010.
Rhind, Jennifer Peace, Fragrance and Wellbeing: Plant Aromatics and Their Influence on the Psyche. Singing Dragon, 2013.
Tisserand, Robert The Art of Aromatherapy. 16th ed., Daniel,1994.
Tisserand, Robert & Young, Rodney Essential Oil Safety. 2nd ed., Churchill Livingstone, 2015.
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