I am starting this a little earlier than usual, because we are moving house at the beginning of January, which means packing up over the Christmas period, and so don’t be surprised if we sound a little jaded in the New Year.

Much as I like older properties they tend to become more onerous as one grows more old oneself. We have lived in our current 300-year-old home for almost twelve years, and loved every minute, but there comes a time when the constant battle with ever-expanding tropical undergrowth, bunged up drains, flooding cellars, stone sinks, hot-water geysers, tap-dancing mice, and overly industrious spiders in every nook and cranny has to end. Mind you, I would probably have been quite happy not to move as I don’t really like change, but Jan is far more pragmatic and so we are moving into the 21st century, and more garage space!

Still, during our time here our mothers have died, as well as three aunts, and clearing out is proving quite a revelatory experience. I can’t remember when we last used entree dishes, fish and fruit knives and forks, specialist cocktail glasses, countless tea services, and other period bric-a-brac. Also, tell me how many flowerpots, secateurs, and garden trugs does one really need? Whatever, I’ve been told to forget about all that and get on with packing my own stuff.

I was dreading this moment, as I am not too handy with packaging materials. In the earliest days of Essentially Oils it used to take me half-a-day to fill and pack six 10ml bottles. How our customers, many of whom are still with us, endured such ineptitude I shall never know.

Armed with a bundle of flat-packed cartons and a tape gun I headed upstairs, thinking that I would gradually work downwards. My library of motor books seemed an ideal place to start. Fatal! Four hours later I realized that I had put not one volume in a box, so engrossed had I been leafing through long-forgotten pages. Crikey! I’d be for the high jump!

Feverishly, I set about erecting cartons. Dash it! There had to be some knack to using these tape guns, but I obviously hadn’t got it. I ended up with either about six feet of the sticky stuff or barely an half-inch. Progress was slow but, eventually, I found that I had literally boxed myself into a corner with no visible means of escape. Instead of logically working my way backwards towards the door, I had chosen to pack my treasured books in descending order of size, as they were arranged on the shelves. Unfortunately, the largest tomes had been closest to the exit. Surrounded by numerous boxes, piled three high, I was quite exhausted when I finally escaped. There’s blatently more to this moving lark than meets the eye. Nevertheless, with this task achieved, I felt quite chuffed!    

You will understand that I have had little opportunity to do any solid reading during the past few weeks and so this Newsletter is written largely by many of you. Anticipating that I might be a little short of content, I hoped that I would have a good response to My Favourite Things and Chanel No.5. I was overwhelmed!

A confusing tale.
With my quiz about the “most worn” perfume of all time, I suspected that several would know far more about the enigmatic Gabrielle ‘Coco’ Chanel than me. A perfume today is nothing without a story, and Chanel No.5 tells many.

The story goes that, in 1921, Chanel asked an unknown perfumer, Ernest Beaux, to compose a perfume unlike anyone else’s for her couture house. Beaux had been born on December 8th, 1881, in Moscow in the village of Suschevo, close to the Rallet perfume factory at number 47 Vyatskaya Street, which had been opened by Alphonse Rallet in 1843. Ernest Beaux’s father, Edouard, also a perfumer, had been among the founding directors.
 
In fact, by 1921, Ernest Beaux already had some significant fragrances to his credit. In 1912, already senior perfumer at Rallet and a member of the board of directors, he had created Le Bouquet de Napoléon to commemorate the centenary of the battle of Borodino, Napoleon’s last victory in his Russian campaign. The following year, 1913, to mark the tercentenary of the rise of the Romanov dynasty, he came up with Le Bouquet de Catherine, honouring Catherine the Great. However, whilst Le Bouquet de Napoléon had been a major success, Le Bouquet de Catherine seems to have been a flop as Beaux makes no mention of it in his 1946 biography. Still, it is likely that it was relaunched as Rallet No.1.

Rallet No.1 became a great favourite at the Russian Imperial Court and, in the summer of 1920, Chanel started a love affair with the Grand Duke Dimitri Pavlovitch, first cousin of Tzar Nicolas II, who was 11 years her junior. It lasted about a year. Did this fling provide some solace after the death of her lover and companion Captain Arthur ‘Boy’ Capel on Christmas Eve 1919 in a motor accident, whose Charvet toiletry bottle she commissioned Brosse glassworks to manufacture the No5 flacon in the image of? Did Pavlovitch give her a flacon of Rallet No.1 as a present, although it is said that she never used perfume herself as it suggested to her the status of a kept woman but he may have persuaded her otherwise? In any event, it is likely that Pavlovitch introduced her to Beaux.

A woman, she is supposed to have said, should not smell of roses, and so, in due course, the estimable Beaux returned with five samples. Chanel, lying on the sofa with a bad headache, dismissed him with a wave of her handkerchief, telling him to leave them on the mantelpiece, she would examine them later. No sooner had Beaux left, however, than she struggled from the sofa and quivered her nostrils over each in turn. When Beaux returned, it was all decided. Chanel announced: It’s number five, in one fell swoop creating a legend!  
 
Though this story may be true, it has all the markings of a myth: the mystical interpretation of numbers; Beaux floating in with five nameless bottles, only one of which disguises the magic potion; the fact that Chanel has a headache. The senses-impairing headache is a sign that this was no ordinary choice - it was psychic, inspired!

The Chanel archives indicate that in fact Beaux delivered two batches of samples, numbered 1 to 5 and 20 to 24. If this is correct, then the two batches were probably two perfumes, each offered in a few slight variations, which is common perfumer’s practice. Furthermore, the two batches were all most likely adaptations and continuations of Rallet No.1, with which Chanel was probably already familiar. Also, according to the records, Chanel launched No.22 first, then chose No.5 to appear at her couture défilé a few months later on 5th May, 1921. Only 100 flacons of Chanel No.5 were produced initially, which Chanel graciously presented to her best customers as a Christmas gift that year. After several customers had asked for further supply, she decided to officially launch No.5 in 1922. Therefore, it is likely that No.5 was not Chanel’s first, inspired choice.

However, there is no doubting that she was highly superstitious, presenting her collections on the fifth day of the fifth month, and number five was her lucky number. Apparently, it all goes back to the number five patterned on the floor of a corridor in the orphanage where she spent seven years of her childhood.

No.5 did not do well at first. At the time, Chanel was more focused on fashion, and it was
the little black dress, shown in her 1924 collection, that secured for all time her fame as a designer. The year also marked the turning point for Chanel No.5. Wertheimer Group, which owned Parfums Bourjois, took over the business of producing and marketing it and it began to gain acclaim.

However, if Beaux created the fragrance, and Chanel gave it the chic, Marilyn Monroe added sex. Stepping off a plane in Japan in the 1950s, she was asked what she wore in bed.
“Five drops of No.5”, she replied. Sales shot up worldwide, and have stayed there ever since.

Nothing so perfectly expresses the modernism of Chanel as that stark little bottle, which some claim was designed by the cartoonist Sem, with its masculine brutalism. French writer Paul Morand called her the exterminating angel of decimononico style, and couturier Balenciaga said: ‘Chanel is an eternal bomb. None of us can defuse her.’

Chanel’s fortune, reported as $15 million at the time of her death in 1971, was down to this one little perfume, shrouded in conflicting stories, because her couture business enjoyed doubtful financial success.

And yet, many of you picked through this confusing tale with admirable perspicacity. Sally Lucas and Chloe Newton were so nearly right, but the winner is Nova Ronayette. Very well done!

Some of your favourite things.
I was delighted that animals featured large in many lives - stroking the house rabbit who hasn’t a care in the world - the feel of cat’s fur against bare skin - purr-in with my cats in bed in the morning - my cat’s paws, all velvety and wobbly and smelling of cinnamon - the smell of my dog’s ears - the moment a dog is let off the lead - horses in a field, particularly on a misty day - the honk of Canada geese.

Not having a cat, as it would probably be tempting fate with a parrot loose in the house, I am unaware of the obvious pleasure these feline companions provide. Elizabeth Wildgoose’s cat’s paws, all velvety and wobbly and smelling of cinnamon, I find particularly evocative. Although Amanda Hawes assures me that she can nuzzle her face around her dog’s ears, and it’s wonderful, I fear that young Mick would have my nose off. I envy Jacky Mattam her house rabbit as I have always fancied one myself, but which breed? I empathize much with the honk of Canada geese, which is one of Victoria Plum’s favourite things, because before they were as common as they are today I would cycle several miles in the early dawn to listen to their honking as they glided into their feeding grounds.

I agree with many that the feel of freshly washed and ironed cotton sheets is scrumptious. Had I the time and inclination I would change them every day. I had never really thought about it until Jenny Thorpe mentioned it - the joy of growing tomatoes and the scent when picking them - but tomatoes do have a delightful and inimitable smell. I can sense it now as I recollect the enjoyment of harvesting them from the vine for sandwiches, to be savoured on summer afternoons when the smell of freshly cut hay wafted gently on the breeze. The smell of eldeberry leaves - seeing daffodils emerge in the Spring - the smell of a dark red rose - the heart-stoppingly beautiful colours of the autumn leaves - Mother Nature provides so much, and absolutely free.

Amongst Rene Schuster’s favourite things are finding that new shoes fit well and balancing the books. Bravo! If there is one thing that I really value it is my feet. From a very early age, I took the extravagant decision always to have my ‘decent’ shoes hand-made, because I could never find a pair to fit. Although I only commission a pair every decade or so, the satisfaction of knowing that they will fit perfectly is inestimable.

As a law student, one of the most testing examinations, for me at least, was Trust Accounts and Bookkeeping. I could never get the wretched books to balance. In desperation, and with no little trepidation, I asked the managing clerk if he could assist. An affable fellow, he taught me some invaluable, and somewhat devious I now realize, short cuts, but the books always balanced. I sailed through the exam.

Playing chess with my 10-year-old grandson. As I am not yet a grandparent, I can only relate a story about Justin and his introduction to backgammon. He was perhaps six or seven and we had been invited to drinks with an elderly lady in Marbella, who in her day was probably as well known as ‘Coco’ Chanel.

Upon our arrival, she instructed her lover and companion, who was not unlike ‘Boy’ Capel, to play with Justin. I felt sorry for the fellow, for he was obviously more used to a life of ease without children. A little later, the elderly lady, sensing that her companion was becoming a tad exasperated, suggested that she might teach Justin backgammon. One of the best players on the Costa, and in those days there were several living there who were world-class, Justin unknowingly jumped at the offer.  Many hours later she bade us farewell, confiding to me that they had been some of the happiest hours of her life. Justin remains an accomplished player to this day.         

Sophie Hudson likes plunging a teaspoon through the papery top of a fresh jar of coffee and taking a load of stuff to the charity shop. Victoria Plum relishes eating the skin on a home cooked rice pudding and Jenny Thorpe derives much pleasure getting a smile from a cancer patient when she has provided an aromatherapy foot or hand massage. Some even consider reading the newsletter from cover to cover a favourite thing! The list is endless, and I cannot thank you enough for taking the trouble to tell us some of your favourite things, but there can be only one winner.

Tracey Deacon agrees with me that the simple pleasures in life can be a type of therapy and once wrote to her local newspaper to enquire about writing a ‘Good News’ section once a month but, strangely, they declined as they did not think anyone would read it. Well, I have no such qualms and so here is my winner’s enchanting poem. Enjoy!

Crispy dry leaves on an Autumn day,
Wintery sunshine lighting my way,
Watching my dogs play in the park,
A scented candle after dark.

A woodpecker bobbing high in the sky,
Wouldn’t it be great to be able to fly,
A lovely warm bath, full of bubbles,
The perfect way to soothe my troubles.

A vase full of fresh colourful flowers,
An enchanting book to while away the hours,
An Essentially Oils newsletter through the door,
Such fun to read, I always wait more.

A quiet early morning - no one around,
Such peaceful silence, rare to be found,
A cosy night-in, sitting by the fire,
A scrumptious hot chocolate to help me retire.

Finding a parking space when in a hurry,
Friday night and a take-away curry,
A call from a friend to show they care,
A trip to the local Xmas Fayre.

The simple pleasures in life are not complicated,
As my mother always says, life is what you make it,
So grab it with both hands,
Be grateful for what you’ve got,
Enjoy those simple pleasures,
Appreciate you’ve got a lot!

Growing old?
There’s obviously no stopping you once you get going! Karen Austin e-mailed to tell me that recently she was diagnosed with A.A.A.D.D. (Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder).

In her own words, this is how it manifests:

I decide to water my garden. As I turn on the hose, I look over at my car and decide it needs washing. As I start towards the garage, I notice mail on the table that I collected from the letter-box earlier. I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car. I lay my car keys on the table, put the junk mail in the rubbish bin under the table, and notice that it is full. So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the rubbish first. But then I think, since I’m going to be near the post-box when I take out the rubbish anyway, I may as well pay the bills first.

I take my cheque-book off the table, and see that there is only one cheque left. My extra cheques are in my desk in the study, so I go inside the house to my desk where I find the can of Coke I’d been drinking. I’m going to look for my cheques, but first I need to push the Coke aside so that I don’t accidentally knock it over. The Coke is getting warm, and I decide to put it in the fridge to keep it cold.

As I head towards the kitchen with the Coke, a vase of flowers catches my eye - they need water. I put the Coke on the worktop and discover my reading glasses that I’ve been searching for all morning. I decide I better put them back on my desk, but first I’m going to water the flowers. I set the glasses back down on the worktop, fill a container with water and suddenly spot the TV remote control. Someone left it on the kitchen table. I realise that tonight when we watch TV, I’ll be looking for the remote control, but I won’t remember that it’s on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs, but first I’ll water the flowers. I pour some water in the flowers, but quite a bit of it spills on the floor. So, I set the remote control back on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill. Then, I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.

At the end of the day, the car isn’t washed, the bills aren’t paid, there is a can of warm Coke sitting on the worktop, the flowers don’t have enough water, there is still only one cheque in my cheque-book, I can’t find the remote control or my glasses, and I don’t remember what I did with the car keys. Then, when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I’m really baffled because I know I was busy all day, and I’m really tired.

I realise this is a serious problem, and I’ll try to get some help for it, but first I’ll check my e-mail. Meanwhile, do me a favour, forward this message to everyone you know, because I don’t remember who the hell I’ve sent it to. Don’t laugh - if this isn’t you yet, your day is coming!

Don’t worry Karen, I now realize that I’ve been suffering from A.A.A.D.D. for years!

GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY.  GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL.
LAUGHING AT YOURSELF IS THERAPEUTIC.

More about essential oils and epilepsy.
A couple of months ago, I mentioned that I had doubts about the use of lavender (Lavandula angustifolia Mill.) on epileptics, and asked if any had any experiences.

Sue Edgington, who works in a college for mainly epileptic students, e-mailed to tell me that they use lavender quite frequently as she believes it one of the safest oils to use.

Carol Charlesworth, on the other hand, who has worked for eight years or more with young adults who have severe epilepsy, wrote to tell me that she found early on that seizures were more frequent when she used lavender, either in a burner or in a very dilute massage oil. She does not use it at all now.

Do others have any views?

Meanwhile, Victoria Plum requested evidence that fennel (Foeniculum vulgare var. dulce Batt. & Trab.) has proven epileptogenic effects, as she has been unable to find any although some aromatherapy writers state that fennel should not be used in epilepsy.
  

I agree that there seems to be little solid proof, but thirty-five years ago W.A. Emboden, Jr., in a book about narcotic plants (published by Macmillan, New York, I think), mentioned that therapeutic doses of the distilled oil of fennel occasionally induced epileptiform madness and hallucinations. It had been demonstrated that in vivo amination of this oil can result in a series of three hallucinogenic amphetamines, as can dill, parsley, and anise as well.

The essential book of herbal medicine (1991), by S.Y. Mills, also noted the similarity of trans-anethole, the main constituent of fennel, to the psychoactive compounds mescaline, asarone and myristicin. Les huiles essentielles pour votre santé (1990), by G. Roulier, also states that fennel has an epileptic action at high dose. Therefore, erring on the side of caution, evidence or not, I would still not recommend the use of fennel with epileptics.

Help with leg ulcers.
Having read the question from Kathryn Brown-Warr about leg ulcers in Newsletter 188, I then remembered that there were various articles on that subject in the Australian journal Aromatherapy Today - volumes 3, 4, and 23 - by Ron Guba and John Kerr. They were both working with ulcers/pressure sores. May I suggest that Kathryn visits the journal’s website - www.aromatherapytoday.com - e-mailed Joanna Edwards.

Victoria Plum also mentioned Ron Guba, and his work with German chamomile (Matricaria recutita L.) in the treatment of ulcers and pressure sores. Victoria blends German chamomile with Myrrh (Commiphora myrra (Nees) Engl.), Lavender (Lavandula angustifolia Mill.) and Tea Tree (Melaleuca alternifolia (Maiden & Betche) Cheel), for use in a base cream.

Using this cream to treat a gentleman who had a pressure sore which had been open for two years, as a result of frequent knocking as he was lifted in and out of his wheelchair, the client reported that it began to have an effect within three days. When Victoria saw him for his next massage session, six weeks later, it was closed. During the interim, she had been sending him the cream through the post for daily application by the carer.

She has also used the cream successfully on another client with vasculitis, who suffers sorely when bitten by mosquitoes and midges. This client is a GP, and now calls for Victoria’s ‘blue cream’ whenever she gets bitten by the little nippers, to ward off any danger of festering.        
 
Sometimes Victoria replaces the Myrrh with Frankincense (Boswellia carteri Birdw.) and the Tea Tree with Niaouli (Melaleuca quinquenervia (Cav.) S.T. Blake), so as to avoid potential ‘acclimatization’, although, as she puts it, the German chamomile is always the ‘glue’ which holds it together, and to some extent so is the lavender as it is antimicrobial and analgesic and also renders the blend aromatically acceptable!

Exotic tastes!
I have been enjoying thoroughly Caroline Ingraham’s occasional articles in In Essence and other journals about using her ‘animal aromatics’ to help and heal baby elephants in Kenya. It is quite fascinating. Pachyderms, however, have never been my strong suit, though I was once involved in the preservation of the very few remaining rhinoceroses in Thailand. Do they still exist, I wonder? Still, what really caught my eye was Caroline’s recent work whilst working with students at Sparsholt College, Winchester.
A chameleon, which is any of a small family of lizards having grasping tails, long tongues, protruding eyes, and the power of changing colour, selected rose oil (Rosa damascena Mill.) which, when related to behaviour, is considered to aid release of anger and resentment. As the little chappie inhaled the oil, black spots appeared on his body suggesting anger. Nevertheless they then disappeared only to return a few minutes later. This release was captured beautifully by the markings on his body. The process continued for 30 minutes until he had had enough and then walked slowly away. Absolutely mesmerizing!

As a small boy, I had a couple of chameleons, Popeye and Olive, and would agree that they could get quite tetchy from time to time, but I doubt very much that my meagre threepence per week, even 60 years ago, would have allowed me to assuage their anger and resentment with rose oil! [For more information about Caroline’s fascinating work and her publications, e-mail caroline@ingraham.co.uk or visit www.ingraham.co.uk]

Southern Africa may hold the clue.
Reading about Caroline and her work with elephants in Kenya, I was reminded that I had been invited some months ago by Karen Swanepoel to apply for membership of the South African Essential Oil Growers Association.

Karen is a lecturer and researcher at the University of Zululand and is very passionate about medicinal aromatic plants. In August last year, Karen took a group of international and local    aromatherapists and scientists, who were attending an aromatherapy conference in Durban, on a “tour de fragrance” to show them the variety of plants that could be found in Zululand. She believes that the medicinal properties of South African plants can still play a major role in combating the threatening diseases of mankind, such as HIV, AIDS, TB, malaria and cancer, and that greater effort and more research funding should be made available to universities and research institutions to increase momentum.

Medicinal plants are an important aspect of the daily lives of many people and an important part of the South African cultural heritage. Southern Africa has well over 30,000 species of higher plants. The Cape Floral Kingdom alone has nearly 9,000 species and is the most diverse temperate flora on earth, rivalling the tropical rainforests in terms of species diversity. With South Africa’s remarkable biodiversity and cultural diversity, it is not surprising that approximately 3,000 species of plants are used as medicines.

However, there is a lack of detailed documentation on the use of medicinal plants in South Africa. This is an urgent priority in view of the fragility of oral-tradition knowledge, and the rapid pace of urbanization and acculturation in this country. With official support, formal documentation, research and systemization, the beneficial practises of Africa’s indigenous systems of medicine could one day claim their place among the great healing traditions of the world. [For more information contact Karen at kswane@pan.uzulu.ac.za]

A blast from the past!
I have just been sent by a very old customer a copy of my May, 1994 Newsletter, together with a Price List from the same period. It seems that, at the time, we were moving. I wrote:
“I now know that moving will never be easy - despite having moved more than twenty times during our married life around the world.” Well, things haven’t changed much!

Of course, I couldn’t resist comparing some prices in our list with those of almost 14 years ago. In 1994, we used to charge £1.75 for 100ml of Sweet Almond, £15 for 5ml of Rose Absolute and a staggering £9 for 100ml of Evening Primrose Oil. Lavender French was £2.50 for 10ml, and Tea Tree a mere £2. A litre of Base Cream would have set you back £15, and a litre of Cornflower floral water a mighty £25. 5 litres of Grapseed was on offer that month for a paltry £20, and the Carrier “PRO-PACK”, to include 500ml each of Sweet Almond and Grapeseed and 150ml each of Avocado Refined, Jojoba and Wheatgerm, was an obvious steal for £16. But what staggers me most is that we could afford to sell 25ml of so-called Sea Buckthorn oil, which I had bought from an itinerant gentleman from the Altai, for only £3.85! People should have bitten my arm off, but they probably thought it too good to be true, as I was to discover myself a little later! There was, however, a standard postage charge of £3.50 in the good old days.

Finally......
I’ve stuck myself in a box and am ready to go!





charles@essentiallyoils.com

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