I’ve said many times that my life, like Jerry Seinfeld’s, has a way of balancing itself out – even Stevens all the way. Makes sense then that as my eyesight goes the way of video tapes, my sense of smell could get me a job with a French perfumier. Which is great if you’re working in said role, but not so good in our smoke-free music venues, where I spend a fair amount of time. Whoever knew that men fart pretty much constantly when watching bands?
So I have become maniacally sensitive to fragrances, and thanks to two big projects for Clarins Australia, absolutely inspired by the beauty of their bottles. I’ve illustrated a hoard of them, this is a teeny taste…
