This post is somewhat ill-placed on this blog, but while I’m trying to get my writing about all things flavour, not just bartending, running again and the respective sites set up, I’ll place this perfume brand review here for now.
When Americans Make Art
Imaginary Authors is an American one-man show launched in 2012 by former real estate agent turned self-taught perfumer Josh Meyer based in Oregon. His website states: Imaginary Authors is born from the concept of scent as art and art as provocation, and every scent is accompanied by an excerpt from a fictional, albeit archetypical book.
To tap into the associations of literary characters is quite a smart way to communicate an olfactory idea; so I bought their short story collection, which is a set of 8 miniatures of your choosing for a very reasonable price and a great way to get to know the brand. I think I got two free samples thrown in on top of that, too!
However, this unreflected, superficial use of art in the brand’s mission statement reveals the myopic grasp of perfumery in Imaginary Authors. All the scents I tried are decent, but simple in their construction; and tied together by artificiality and sweetness.
In saying this, by their simplicity the perfumes have a certain clarity which could be appealing to people getting into perfume; and I can only assume that some of the artificial flavours such as the fizzy Orange Crush of Sundrunk (2018) are more familiar, and pleasant, to an American audience.
Individual Imaginary Authors Perfumes
There’s the occasional spark of creativity like the mix of bubblegum strawberry and fir in Cape Heartache (2013), but it’s not well-executed; the opening too sweet and artificial, the woodsiness too short-lived and the perfume boring at second wear already.
Most of the scents, however, are a bit unnecessary: City on Fire (2014) smells like a cheap Garçons: Avignon (2002) or a blunt Artisan Parfumeur: Tea for Two (2000) with its straight-forward resinous smoke; Whispered Myths (2017) and its salted oud is a toned-down Tom Ford: Oud Minéral (2017).
The one-note perfume that is Slow Explosions (2016) is a good baseline for a saffron scent, but then again, I find saffron is not really something that should be in the foreground in a perfume, but rather give depth like in MFK: Baccarat 540 (2015).
The best scent, in my opinion, is Telegrama (2019), which is an Americanised Caron: Troisième Homme (1985) , which was already an attempt to Americanise Caron: Pour un Homme (1934).
Cobra and the Canary (2012), Saint Julep (2017) and Soft Lawn (2012) could all be great scents in terms of their ideas, but suffer from their short development. The first has an interesting leathery lemon opening that then moves into an unmemorable rainforest; the second quickly turns into cough drops and the latter, albeit the most interesting opening with its tennis court and mango mint, only stays for on hour.
Closing the Package
I really wanted to like this brand, since I think the unity of presentation is very pleasant. The perfumes are sent in well-made boxes that resemble books, which ties in nicely with the whole literature-inspired-perfume concept.
Of course it is easier to invent authors rather than to create perfumes for existing ones, where people are confronted with their subjective interpretations.
However, if well-executed (the few samples from Histoires des Parfums didn’t convince me, either), this would also be much more rewarding, stepping into a dialogue of the arts rather than presenting a Hollywood stage set fantasy world.
