It was a friend of RUSSH (makeup artist Carly Lim) who led me to Jesse Wakenshaw on Instagram. It’s hard to quantify his work, but I’d describe him as an olfactory artist and creative who specialises in niche perfumes. Her creates small batch fragrances, but not the regular kind. His interest lies in unlikely combinations and unusual notes — things like synthetic animal musks, iris, tonka, hedione and jasmine rice. If you’re into under-the-radar fragrance, or want to explore something completely custom, Jesse is the person for the job.
Beyond this, he is a fragrance industry buff and almost-historian. His favourite-ever fragrance, perfumer and details surrounding his own work and method, below.
Tell me about your relationship with fragrance and scent — what initially sparked the interest?
From a young age, I was drawn to the escapism of fragrance — the way a scent could transport me, awaken curiosity and evoke a sense of confidence I didn’t always feel growing up. As a young man still discovering who I was, fragrance offered a quiet power: the ability to transform, stimulate, and provoke something deeper within. It became more than just a sensory experience for me, it was a form of self-expression.
Are there any early scent-related memories you can share?
Traveling down the south coast, driving through quiet bushland before reaching a caravan park, and the caravan had been closed up since the last visit — damp, musty with the combination of plastic and vinyl wafting in the stagnant air. And then the smell of burning campfire but with a briny marine facet. Very nostalgic…
So how did you get into perfume making and olfactory studies?
It happened pretty seamlessly and quite naturally, but if I had to pinpoint it, I’d say it really took off during the early COVID lockdowns. I became obsessed with researching olfactive profiles online, reading, collecting, absorbing everything I could. I started collecting raw materials and digging into how compositions work and how molecules interact. Through that process, I came to understand that perfumery is an art form. There’s no one right way to do it.
As someone who’s hyper-creative across multiple disciplines, it felt second nature to merge all those experiences together. Perfumery became this perfect meeting point — a place where everything I’d done creatively could finally align.
How would you describe your work and what you do now?
A combination of scent and sculpture — often in various forms — acts as an apparatus to hold and release scent molecules. I explore the idea of adhering scent to specific objects in order to carry and convey a visceral experience to the viewer. That said, I’m by no means bound to this approach. Some moments call for nothing more than a fleeting scent: an invisible language to communicate ideas.
One common theme is that my work leans heavily on the psyche—on how we perceive and experience scent at an emotional level.
What’s your creative process when you’re making a perfume? Is there a unique method?
It’s a chaotic one! Sometimes it starts from a visual cue — something I see that triggers a feeling — but more often, it begins as a thought or idea in my head. Something abstract that I just need to smell.
I start by sketching out potential materials. That usually means a table covered in paper blotters soaked with diluted aroma chemicals. It’s messy. There’s constant sniffing, layering, second-guessing. A lot of overthinking, to be honest. But also… curiosity. This constant urge to see how something would work. Would this note completely clash with that one?
Then the doubting kicks in. Eventually, I’ll commit to a formula and create a sample. Then I let it sit, macerate, do its thing. After that comes more evaluating, more rethinking, more time. It’s never linear. It’s often frustrating. But that’s how it goes. It’s not a clean process, but it’s mine. Sometimes in all the chaos, something magic happens.
What sort of notes or raw materials are you mostly drawn to?
I’m drawn to anything unusual or strange. There’s something captivating about how an offbeat note or raw perfume material can blend with more traditionally “pleasant” ones. I love the contrast and the tension they create.
That said, I do have my favourites. I’m particularly captivated by the elegance of orris root, the green vibrancy of galbanum and the lusciousness of jasmine sambac. I also have a deep love for animalics, too: tonquitone, a synthetic deer musk, is a standout for me.
Rich, resinous materials like labdanum, benzoin, and olibanum (along with their synthetic counterparts) are staples in my work. And I can never resist a good cumin note. Oh, and patchouli. Always patchouli.
What do you wear or how do you smell, day to day?
I don’t wear too much to be honest. Sometimes I will wear things I’m experimenting with on skin. Occasionally I’ll do a little mix in a tester atomiser and wear that. I now know to always write a formula down too, even if it is a spontaneous draft.
But I smell slightly sweet, slightly salty…
What’s the most interesting fragrance you’ve ever come across?
There’s many! But Serge Lutens JEUX DE PEAU a warm interesting savoury gourmand which I believe is discontinued now.
What’s your favourite perfume of all time?
That’s a hard one. Lanvin ARPEGE? Florals, aldehydes, juicy ripe fruits… It’s the old school Gothic Romanticism at its core for me.
Last question, if you could meet with any perfumer, living or dead, who would it be and what would you ask them?
Sissel Tolaas! I’d love to talk about pushing boundaries, watch them work in the lab, evaluate their ideas and see how they approach scent creation. I’d ask them about the rarest scent they’ve ever researched and what it was like to uncover something so unique. And of course, I’d be curious about their favourite project they’ve ever worked on.
