BOTTLING THE UNCOMMON

WHY FRAGRANCE HOUSES MIGHT CHOOSE TO STAY SMALL—AND WHY WE AS CONSUMERS ARE SO DRAWN TO THAT.

By Alice Wolfe

The word “niche” comes from the French nicher, or “to make a nest.” I like this imagery. Nesting: finding your place in the world, landing on something that feels like yours. There’s a sense of ownership, pride, and joy to loving something under-the-radar, something that wouldn’t appeal to just anyone.

I’m reminded of the joy I felt finding what appeared to be the indie-est, most off-the-beaten-path band amongst my friends in 2007. (I was in middle school—it’s safe to say that whatever band I found was not the indie-est, nor off-the-beaten-path at all.) Yet that hunt appeals to many of us. For me, these days, niche perfumes scratch the itch. Buying a delicate bottle of something to anoint myself with already feels extravagant. Discovering a fragrance that isn’t widely known adds to the inherent sense of luxury, rendering the ritual even more special.

What do those in the industry mean when they talk about niche perfume? I spoke with the founders of Kindred Black, ERIS Parfums, and Vyrao, tapping my favorite fragrance resource, Emma Vernon, host of Perfume Room Podcast, to discuss.

Vernon explained that the most tried-and-true niche perfumes hit at least one of three points: The fragrance has limited distribution, (i.e., it’s not sold in department stores or similar large retailers), it has no official affiliation with any major holding company or designer, and it introduces a scent profile that strays from mainstream market offerings. Originality and independence are the cornerstones of niche.

Barbara Herman is a writer, vintage perfume aficionado, and the founder of ERIS Parfums, renowned for its use of rare and beautiful ingredients, like natural ambergris, immortelle, and vanilla. Herman’s fragrances are created by Antoine Lie, master perfumer of almost 30 years. Together, they seek to tell what they call “subversive olfactive stories.”

ERIS has been described by fans as “the nichiest of niche brands,” Herman says. “To me, a true niche brand has different goals from a mass market brand, and usually, as a result, a smaller audience. It’s not following the crowd, but dancing to its own tune.”

One of my favorite ERIS scents is Green Spell. It feels heady—like breathing it in could give you a slight buzz. Green Spell isn’t simply beautiful. It’s complex, pushing you out of your comfort zone. My experience with this perfume is echoed in Herman’s words: The fragrance “makes you think and fires your imagination.” To me, it smells like green bell peppers, tomato leaves, and a hint of narcissus. It’s gorgeous and unusual, and needless to say, you won’t find it at an airport duty-free store.

Founder of Vyrao, Yasmin Sewell, said that when her brand first launched, she worried they’d be too niche, without enough wide-ranging appeal to survive. To balance creativity, top-quality ingredients, and commercial viability, you often need a significant audience to reach financial stability. Today, Sewell is encouraged by the direction she sees the perfume industry headed in, as consumer interest in out-of-the-ordinary brands increases. In an era of overconsumption and instant gratification, there’s value in investing in fewer, but better quality and more unique, products.

Fully appreciating higher-end niche fragrances requires awareness of the limited resources these perfumers work with, their artistry, and the unique scents that emerge—in Herman’s words, “[stretching] the idea of what perfume can be.”

The founders of Kindred Black, Jennifer Black Francis and Alice Kindred Wells, agree that niche fragrances aren’t meant to appeal to just anyone. Referencing their perfume oil Lilac Enfleurage Absolute, Wells says: “It takes a certain customer to appreciate that there’s a woman at a farm, picking every single tiny lilac bud and putting in a plant-based fat, switching it out every single day, just to create mere ounces of a fragrance oil.”

The founders’ focus on environmental sustainability means that their scents are necessarily small-batch. Some of the ingredients they use—prickly pear oil, for example—are limited to avoid overharvesting.

Environmental concerns are an increasingly common reality for perfumers, as changing temperatures, wildfires, and other climate disasters alter resource availability. Synthetic ingredients, which have been used in perfume since the 19th century, play a role in this fight. Consider Mamajuju, from Vyrao, which uses a synthetic molecule blend to mimic wet, earthy red clay. As Sewell says: “Just because a fragrance has the word synthetic in it [doesn’t mean] it’s bad. And sometimes, that choice is better than a plant that has been overfarmed.”

A good niche perfume pays equal mind to quality and sustainability. It honors a perfumer’s artistic perspective, their olfactive goal, rather than the fragrance notes that test best in focus groups. But what happens when a niche perfume becomes a huge success? Does it get to keep its niche status?

Vernon explained that fragrances like the well-known Baccarat Rouge 540, or an older hit, Mugler Angel, were risky, quirky, and novel when they first launched. “Something can be niche in concept and creation, and go on to become a blockbuster,” she says.

What about when a corporation buys up a niche brand in which they see commercial potential, like Estée Lauder’s acquisition of Frederic Malle or Le Labo? Whether these fragrances still qualify as niche when they enter the mass market is murky. Vernon feels they don’t quite meet the criteria, but “can still remain stylistically niche… if the brand is able to retain full creative control,” as Malle did until he left his company last year. Vernon goes on: “If a perfumer feels strongly that their creations are niche, who am I to argue?”

At the end of the day, maybe niche is more a feeling than a selling point—an acknowledgment of the personal, for both perfumer and wearer. Whenever I wear a fragrance—alone in my own home, out in the world, or for a night out—I want to feel like what I’m wearing is ultimately for me. It’s unique, it’s intimate, it’s niche.