In This Story
Compliments, of course, are part of the fun. At the office, I have an ongoing ritual with Vogue’s beauty editor at large, Arden Fanning Andrews, who I’ve jokingly named our “perfume sommelier.” Whenever a new scent lands on my desk, I’ll spritz it on and ask for her verdict—not just whether it smells good, but whether it feels like me. We’ll go back and forth, debating its merits, until she inevitably lands on a decisive read. More often than not, it’s: “That doesn’t seem like you.” One afternoon, I swiped on my old faithful Nemat rollerball—rediscovered after weeks at the bottom of my vintage Gucci Jackie bag—and held out my wrist. Her reaction was immediate. “Now this smells like you,” she said, with a reassuring nod that felt like a final stamp of approval. A small victory, but a satisfying one.
Fast forward a few years, fragrance oils are enjoying a full-fledged revival, both as a sensorial step in body care and as a key player in layering. Format aside, at the same time, a parallel obsession has pushed Egyptian Musk scent back into the spotlight (much to the chagrin of my best kept secret and individuality complex). The buzz can be traced, at least in part, to Love Story—a fan-fiction retelling of John F. Kennedy Jr. and Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy’s relationship—which has captivated a new generation. Don’t believe me? Just take a stroll through the West Village, if you dare. Its influence is everywhere: in the resurgence of ’90s minimalism style, the lines forming at C.O. Bigelow for Bessette-inspired accessories, and fragrance lore. No, seriously—there’s even a Reddit thread about it.
In the first episode, a throwaway line hints at the scent’s allure, with a coworker getting on the elevator telling Sarah Pidgeon’s Bessette that she was practically “inhaled” by men at a bar after taking her signature scent recommendation, Egyptian Musk—from there, internet whisper’s identified the Bessette’s alleged go-to as an Egyptian Musk oil by Abdul Kareem. The accuracy of this detail is completely hazy—much like the show itself—but the intrigue has only added to the mystique. Fact or fiction, it’s the anecdote has taken hold, and while Abdul Kareem’s Egyptian Musk is no longer available, Nemat’s version launched in the ‘90s too.
While I personally don’t care for celebrity worship and recreation of any kind, my own roller ball remain at the ready for perfume touchups. Now, here’s to hoping it doesn’t sell out amidst the craze.
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