Jo's Scent Notes: Ode Ona Carte Blanche

Never lose your Apple ID, is my advice. Might seem an odd way to start a fragrance review, but this is simply to set the scene for a fragrance that has proved wonderfully therapeutic – almost meditative – at a very stressful time.

Through a combination of fraud, scamming, changing all my passwords, writing the new ones in my phone and then for the first time ever, having my phone stolen next day (and not being able to remember the passwords), I managed to get locked out of Apple. No phone numbers. No social media. Couldn’t even watch ‘Ted Lasso’ to take my mind off it, because yup, it’s on Apple TV. It could have been worse. I didn’t actually lose any money (thanks for flagging up the fraud, Amex) – but I felt for five whole days completely cut off from my whole world.

Help came in the form of this extraordinary perfume, which centred me, calmed me, soothed me. I’d actually mislaid the little bottle that I was given a couple of months ago, but not being able to access any of my devices (Apple’s requirement to reset your Apple ID means switching everything off) gave me time on my hands to tidy Beauty Bible HQ. Lo, there was Ode Ona Carte Blanche down the back of a cupboard, tipped into near-oblivion by too many bottles crowded onto the shelf.

It was precisely what I needed. Designed for ‘Clarity, release, renewal’ (Carte Blanche could have been formulated for an incident like mine), it sort of smells pleasingly like a room that’s been smudged with sage. Which is logical because sage – along with sandalwood – is a pillar ingredient, and – whaddya know? – it was inspired by the ritual of clearing a space by burning woods and herbs.

There’s a wonderful, cleansing pine needle tea note, too, which in the Tardis-like way fragrance has, takes me right back to a shop I loved in New York called Zona, where I’d buy pine incense to bring home. (It came with a little adobe clay ‘house’, so the smoke wafted out through a tiny chimney; lost in one of many moves, over the years, I miss it to this day.)

But this isn’t, somehow, like wearing a spa on your skin. It’s w-a-y more interesting than that. First zoosh and there are fresh citrus notes, and a nose-tingle of black pepper. Allegedly there’s cardamom in there (I don’t really get that), and amyris, an interesting note that’s actually a soft resin, giving a woody warmth and even a sort of skin-hugging glow.

I shouldn’t be surprised at the aromatherapeutic effect of Carte Blanche. Ode Ona was founded house founded by psychologist and designer Ruth Chao von Gehren; its scents draw on a combination of Eastern wellness rituals and Western perfumery, inviting us to choose a desired state of mind – from calm and grounding (I can never have enough of that!) to love or renewal.

I very much like the fact that Ode Ona’s scents come in sleek 8ml atomisers (you twist them and the nozzle appears, all rather James Bond) – so you can try before you splurge on the full size. This 10ml is also perfect for the handbag, and has never been far from my person since that tech nightmare.

After five long days, Apple gave me back my ID (and, it felt, my life). I never want to go through that again, and my lifestyle advice to you is: write down your passwords somewhere safe, not on a phone – which I know runs counter to popular wisdom, but will avoid an off-the-scale scenario like mine. ‘Carte Blanche’ of course literally means ‘clean sheet of card’, a blank document on which you can write whatever you like. It rather feels like that, since my iCloud sync-ed with an address book that appears to date back to 1977, and I’ve lost hundreds of contacts (which feels in one way liberating and the other, really annoying).

Meanwhile, I have a new tool in my olfactory kit for troubled times – though I’d wear Carte Blanche for its quiet beauty, not just as a balm for the stressed soul.

£48 for 8ml eau de parfum – buy here

£150 for 50ml eau de parfum – buy here