The attendees were eager supporters of Cherry, her scents, work, and expertise. It’s not every day that you get the chance to sit side by side with the founder of a brand you respect and have her share all her secrets and knowledge. In a time of gatekeeping, Cherry’s willingness to answer every question and share the insights that took her years of experimenting, studying, and working to develop was admirable, to say the least. It already set the tone for what the workshop would be and how useful she was going to make it—and she truly did just that.

Cherry began by giving us the cultural and historical context behind rose perfumes. She explored the historical aspects of the materials, resources, scents, and farms that grew the roses. This critical aspect of the workshop was what truly captivated me. As someone who didn’t know anything about perfumes, I was surprised by the deep history, structure, and cultural significance of the ingredients found in them. Cherry’s inclusion of this context was crucial in helping us not only understand perfumes better but also critically acknowledge how resources, labour, and cultural context shape perfume-making.

Once we got to our own perfume-making, I was surprised and in awe of the chemical and laboratory practice behind it. As someone who spent two years in the lab during university while studying neuroscience, it transported me back, but in a different way. In science labs, experiments and their objectives are clear from the get-go (at least in the beginning of med school before you’re allowed to experiment in search of new discoveries). But in this case, it was about searching for the unknown, a scent that makes you feel something, that you want to wear, that pleases both yourself and others. There’s so much to consider, the math, the measurements, the vibe, the hierarchy of scents. Is it a base note, high note, or mid note? What do I need to add more of? What do I need to add less of?

The experimental and mysterious framework of perfume-making reminds me of the beauty of Cherry’s approach. Her inspiration from erotic literature guides her through scent creation—it’s like allowing inspiration, feelings, and emotions to lead you to the answer of the scientific experiment. And to be honest, I was struggling. I felt as though I needed to listen to myself, but I kept finding myself raising my hand to Cherry and asking, “There’s something missing.” And always, she knew exactly what it was and guided me.

At the end of the session, I named my perfume golab, as it means rose water in Persian. As a Persian, Persian roses and rose water have surrounded my senses and environment constantly. Smelling so many different roses this evening from various locations and cultures was a fascinating experience. Just like food, even plants have distinct flavours depending on where they grow that are crucially different. For me, Persian roses are familiar, safe, and homey, so I wanted to replicate something close. As I looked around the room to the other attendees, the personal stories, cultural connections, and playfulness in everyone’s perfume were apparent. We all made a bottled-up invisible potion filled with one part of who we are.

I have gained so much respect for the craft of perfume-making—Cherry’s craft, knowledge, and inspiration, the love and hospitality of Teaspoon Projects, and the audience of the workshop. Perfumes, to me, are about creating an entire aura around your presence. Unlike tangible pieces such as clothing or jewellery, perfume-making is about creating a presence that is invisible yet undeniably there. It requires a mixture of science, art, creativity, inspiration, and confidence. It also demands immense focus and immersion in the work and art of perfume-making. Cherry demonstrated her precision and delicacy with her eyes and hands. The way she measured, observed, and meticulously created scents showcased years of training, passion, love, and most importantly, patience for the craft.

What an aura and an evening to remember.