Samurai Shopper Odor Eaters

Once upon a time, washing with soap and water was considered radical hygiene. There was even a church injunction against water on the grounds that bathing spurred sensuality and indolence — talk about the odor of sanctity. At the same time, pestilential stench was a sign of Satan; bad odors indicated physical and moral decay. Alain Corbin’s “The Foul and the Fragrant” chronicles France in the 18th and 19th centuries when the masses stank to high heaven and perfumed gloves and sleeves inured the aesthete from those very rank rank and file. But the aristocracy was not entirely immune. Casanova, Corbin tells us, nearly fainted at the musky smell of an old nymphomaniac duchess. I sat next to her on the bus yesterday, and I nearly died too.

As an ex-smoker with a hyperbolic nose, the Samurai Shopper defends herself against the inevitable onslaught of fried foods, mothballs, alcohol, human sweat and cheap floozy Eau My Lord what is that? with a countervailing arsenal in her handbag. Perfume — “per fuma” — means “through smoke,” and where there’s smoke, there needs to be purse-size perfume that can be discreetly applied anytime one of those duchesses comes into view.

Juliette Has a Gun, started by Nina Ricci’s great grandson Romano Ricci, makes truly elegant scents: Lady Vengeance — rose, vanilla and patchouli — is a real man magnet and comes in a rechargeable bullet shaped roll-on. Issey Miyake’s L’eau D’issey is a longer bullet, with a fresh lotus-laced smell. Hermès’ Kelly Caleche, a girly floral for those so inclined, has a purse-size spray replicating the locks on its Kelly bags. It’s stunning, almost a piece of jewelry.

Prada’s L’eau Ambree comes with three refillables. It is as well designed as any collector’s item and can vanquish odiferous New Yorkers in a single spritz. My nose still eats up the chocolate, vanilla, sandalwood and patchouli of Thierry Mugler’s Angel in a star-studded compact for those who want to powder their nose with something delicious. Acqua Di Parma‘s purple leather flask of Iris Nobile is a conversation piece, but I’m partial to the violet and leathery mix in Balenciaga’s L’ Essence — which looks as classic as it smells.

Guerlain’s refillable gold canister (with my beloved Mitsuoko) and Creed’s new Bright Blue leather-bound one both hold 1.7 ounces, way larger than purse size. The Samurai advises you to get a bigger bag. At Saks Fifth Avenue, $15 buys an empty charger that Saks will fill with the scent of your choice. Alain Corbin talks about the “New Calculus of Olfactory Pleasure” (oh, French people!), and now you can carry your happy nose around with you.