Netflix added Twin Peaks to their online streaming menu this winter, and I, along with thousands of other viewers, consumed the entire two-year series once again, in one gluttonous month. The dream logic and subconscious imagery of Twin Peaks inhabits the same moody shadow world of imagination layered over reality that also influences my personal love of fragrance. I was inspired by all the rich imagery and compelling characters to write a series of perfume reviews based on the most memorable characters in the series.
If you haven’t seen it, Twin Peaks is a brilliant gem of surrealist television that aired for two seasons on ABC in 1990 and ’91. The story surrounds the murder of teenaged Laura Palmer in a remote northern Washington state mill town. Twin Peaks brought David Lynch to the mainstream public audience, and has continued to haunt the imagination of cult audiences ever since. Visually, the series is a work of art, and the metaphysical murder mystery showcases Lynch’s bizarre, surrealist vision, derivative of film noir detective stories and 1950s film and television tropes layered with quirky humor, Eastern philosophy, and clues in the form of nightmarish apparitions.
Audrey Horne
Played by the delightful Sherilyn Fenn, Audrey Horne is quite the enterprising ingénue. Daughter of business magnate and owner of the Great Northern Hotel, Audrey, just 18, is poised on the edge between mischievous youth, and strong, business-minded adulthood. Her intellectual and creative resourcefulness 
makes her a strong match for her particular crush, Special Agent Dale Cooper, who just arrived in town to solve the death of her own classmate Laura Palmer. Audrey displays a naïve fearlessness in her brazen pursuit of Agent Cooper that makes her all the more charming.
An exciting moment for any perfumista occurs in the third episode, when Agent Cooper says “Audrey, that perfume you’re wearing is incredible.” What perfume did Audrey Horne wear to inspire such a compliment?
Lou Lou by Cacharel (1987)
I can easily see Audrey in this delightfully quirky vanilla chypre that was quite popular at the time. They still manufacture the scent, though from what I hear it’s hardly recognizable anymore. I recently had the opportunity to wear the original Lou Lou again, and it has much of Audrey’s charming quirkiness.
Lou Lou gives off a strong impression of vanilla with a floury heliotrope accord. In other fragrances, heliotrope can lean toward smelling like Play-Doh®, or paste, but in Lou Lou, it’s a rich, flour-like floral that gives off a vaguely vanillic aura. But it’s not just vanilla – Lou Lou is deepened with hints of leather and woods, cedar, a touch of animalic amber, and languid florals. This is definitely one of those perfumes that is its own scent, rather than being a blend of other, discernable notes. It all comes together in the deep, but innocently hypnotic aura of Lou Lou that compliments Audrey’s passionate and charming side.
Paloma Picasso Mon Parfum (1984)
Before the reformulations turned the floral component of this beautiful fragrance into a bitter, screechy mess, Paloma Picasso was a rich spicy herbal chypre fragrance with brains and tenderness. Its coriander, oakmoss, and spicy herbal verdancy compliments the bold clarity of Audrey’s resourcefulness, precocious businesslike nature, and curiosity, while the nutmeg and rose blended with honey and a gentle patchouli match her warm femininity. Subtle mimosa and bright citrus highlight her youthfulness. Paloma Picasso also had a rich, loamy quality to it that echoes the pine forest setting of Twin Peaks.
Dior Addict (2002)
I am cheating here, as Addict obviously wasn’t around in 1990 when Twin Peaks aired. However, every time I wear it I can’t help but to think that if it were around back then, Addict might have been Audrey’s idea of a romantic and distinctive fragrance. The ad campaign for Addict is outrageously sexed up, and the fragrance hardly warrants the pornish images. Addict is sensual nonetheless, and unusual, though still easy to wear.
Actually, the Addict that I’m thinking of is the 2011 reformulation. If you smelled it before then, you’re probably familiar with the piercing, watery white floral vanilla with sugary, fruity overtones. Buried underneath that was a woody incense base. I know I’m not the only one who suffered blinding headaches from that opening aquatic white floral accord, although there are people who still love and search for the old formulation. For reference, the bottle on the left is the older one, and the one on the right is the reformulated version.
The 2011 reformulation lopped off most of the white florals and the sugary Fruit Loops accord. Reminiscent of Lou Lou, Addict has a heliotrope boosted vanilla that also borrows the heavy-lidded tonka, heliotrope, and vanilla aura of Shalimar. Perfumes are a lot sweeter now than they were back in the Twin Peaks days, but Addict isn’t as sweet as the majority of the vanillas out there now, and the only fruitiness you’ll find is in a mere hint of the Sugarplum Fairy variety, tempered by a pinch of peppery basil and something that smells a little like raw silk. Addict is a smooth, glowing vanilla that reminds me of a halo of blue-violet light.
But the magic of Addict is in its rapid morph, about a half hour after application, into an abstract smooth woody base with aloeswood incense – the nice, clean-burning Japanese variety. The base of Addict still retains a lot of its vanilla top notes, making it an easy-to-wear charmer, but with the quirkiness of a weird and wonderfully unique dark, woody incense. For a mass-market fragrance, Addict is rather distinctive, with dark elements and dreamy, David Lynch style, subconscious overtones.
Although not very sweet by today’s standards, Addict is certainly a sweet vanilla fragrance as compared with what was around in 1990. I think that vanilla would appeal to the kid in Audrey. Dior Addict and Audrey both exist in that liminal space between mischievous teenaged sweater girl, and the headstrong and clever femme fatale she aspires to become.
Erica Bloom's Vanity Project 