Bernard O'Shea: Don't dab fancy French perfume on your neck - spray your insoles for big results

Smitten by smells even before he was wet behind the ears, Bernard knows the value of a dab of Obsession. But it's his revelation about shoe insoles that will get right up your nose...

Bernard O'Shea's childhood notions about scent were a bit more Kevin Kline than Calvin Klein but he's long since moved on from the Brut and Lynx. Picture: Moya Nolan

The very first time I used aftershave, I was eleven. In time-honoured tradition, it was a bottle of Brut my father had in the medicine cabinet.

I remember thinking, “Why is this bottle so small?” Growing up, I was obsessed with watching US sitcoms and was bewildered as to why men reacted with bizarre pain when they applied aftershave to their faces before a big date, and why the audience laughed so hard at it. Remember that I didn’t realise that you had to shave first to get the burning effect and that the laughter was canned. 

Half a bottle in, I thought it wasn’t working until my father smelt me and flipped out that his bottle of Brut was half empty. I was then thoroughly confused when I was ordered to take a bath as my sister said I smelt terrible. “But I just put aftershave on?” I argued.

There is something odd about remembering smells — whether of fish‘n’chips or a home-cooked dinner. Smell is possibly the most evocative of all the senses. I can still remember the smell of Brut today. I still remember the smell of the incense and the waft of the thurible that would plume across the sacristy when I served mass with my friends.

'I didn’t realise that you had to shave first to get the burning effect...' Eleven-year-old Bernard had a lot to learn when liberally splashing himself with Brut.

In fact, like pubs, churches have a distinct smell. I know several people who get their kicks out of stationery shops and go giddy at the first smell of a freshly-opened copybook. As for fresh sheets on the bed, it’s heaven the first night.

But what about our smell? It’s an old cliché, but I was a Lynx teenager growing up. Every Christmas from 13 onwards, I would be gifted a stockpile of scents called Africa, Java, and my personal favourite, the harder-to-get Musk. When you think about it, two of the three wise men brought Jesus frankincense and myrrh.

One of them should have gifted him a Lynx box set and said, “for when he hits those awkward years”. After all, they were wise.

Why frankincense and myrrh are so expensive pic.twitter.com/a0y9YCUmKT

— Business Insider (@BusinessInsider) June 21, 2022

My next foray into the aftershave world was a twice-yearly gift from a girlfriend — the ’90s favourite CK One. Ck One still gets a bit of stick over its intense demographic usage instead of its intense smell. But CK One opened a door into unisex fragrance and blurred the lines between aftershave and perfume for a broader audience. Brands like Le Labo owe a debt of gratitude to it. Today you can smell its iconic Santal 33 on everyone.

Calvin Klein also introduced the world to an iconic noir avant garde advertisement campaign with Obsession. Creating a whole new world of mysticism, especially when you heard the whispered “obsession”. To be honest, I found it a bit scary.

Fast forward 2023 years from the wise men, and you will still pay a hefty price for frankincense and myrrh. According to BusinessInsider.com, “Today, alongside its medicinal and cosmetic uses, frankincense has found a surge in popularity as an essential oil, which in its purest form can be sold for as much as $6,000 [€5,700] per litre. Frankincense essential oil alone generated more than $190m in 2018, expected to exceed $406m by 2028.”

Two of the wise men brought baby Jesus precious aromatics — but is there any chance one of them could have stuck a gift pack of Lynx into the child's Christmas stocking? Stock picture

But the fragrance I, and thousands of others, adore is sandalwood, which is now in severe shortage. Think of Bleu de Chanel, Sauvage by Dior, and Tom Ford's Ombré Leather — all of these scents contain sandalwood oil.

It has a deep leathery smoky essence and, in its natural form, is harvested from mature sandalwood trees mainly on the Indian subcontinent and Australia.

It takes at least 15 to 20 years for a tree to grow, and the worldwide demand for it is so high that countries like India cannot keep up with demand. India has had to implement strict rules on the growing and harvesting of sandalwood over the years to stop illegal smuggling.

But our demand for smelling fabulous is growing, and high-income groups want the real thing regardless of expense.

According to Grandview Research, “the global perfume market size was valued at $31.4bn in 2018 and is expected to expand at a CAGR [compound annual growth rate] of 3.9% from 2019 to 2025”. 

That growth is attributed to “the growing trend of personal grooming and increasing demand for luxury and exotic fragrances".

So how do we make our favourite bottle of fragrance last longer? Firstly, aftershaves and perfumes can go off. Depending on their chemical makeup and ingredients, they can last anywhere from one to 10 years.

For example, pure sandalwood oil can last up to 10 years if stored correctly. Proper storage will help your fragrance last longer as light and heat is your enemy. So keeping your eye-watering prized Tom Ford and Le Labo aftershave in the fridge isn’t a bad idea — it will help it last longer. Make sure your kids don’t use it to make all their teddies smell better (this has happened).

Secondly, a great tip I picked from my brother-in-law was to spray your fragrance into a Ziploc bag and put whatever shirt or jumper you plan on wearing that week into it. It works, and a tiny spray can go a long way.

But the third tip for sustaining your smell is based on how and where we spray. Most of us spray onto the neck, wrists, and body. These are referred to as our intimate zone, where someone else will smell your precious scent off you... Or is it?

Bleu de Chanel is one of the fragrance brands affected by the global shortage of sandalwood. File picture

Have you ever sprayed your insoles? Have you ever pulled out the insoles of your shoes? They look like the cartographic relief maps of Chile. They can also smell terrible if you’re me anyway. It might sound like sacrilege to douse your insoles with expensive cologne, but it works amazingly well. I spray them once a month and, not only do my feet not smell, but my socks get the nasal benefit too.

But the biggest plus is that the smell rises from your feet up. It sounds bizarre, but it works. But a word of caution — only spray clean or new insoles. It won’t do anything for a set of grubby ones. That will result in the fragrance of a nightclub the weekend after they introduced the smoking ban. Remember that?

So the next time you dabble some of your fancy French perfume behind your ear, why not rip out your insoles and give them a bit of love?

Not particularly romantic, and I can guarantee you won’t see it anytime soon in an advert. I’m pretty sure you’ll never hear of a supermodel whisper seductively, “insoles”.