Applied Chemistry (1992)

Design partners Sandra Higashi and Byron Glaser of King George County conceived APpLiEd CHeMiStRY as a playful collision of science, scent, and symbolism—a “chemistry set” for adults that blurred the line between laboratory rigor and human attraction. Their aim was not simply to sell fragrance, but to reframe it as experiment and ritual: something hands-on, curious, and faintly mystical. It nodded to the idea of a make-your-own perfume kit, but filtered through a distinctly early-1990s New Age sensibility, where folklore, intuition, and personal alchemy mattered as much as formulation.

The result was visually striking and conceptually clever. APpLiEd CHeMiStRY arrived in a square, gunmetal-gray metal box that felt serious and industrial, like a piece of lab equipment rather than a cosmetic. Inside, five real glass test tubes—sourced from a chemical supply company—were neatly nested, each capped with a black top and rubber dropper. The typography played with upper- and lowercase letters to mimic chemical equations, reinforcing the illusion of scientific experimentation while winking at the user. Measuring roughly 3¼ inches including cap and dropper, each tube was filled to about three-quarters, suggesting precious contents meant to be dosed carefully rather than splashed.

Each fragrance was presented as a component rather than a finished perfume. X2C offered a bouquet of white florals—clean, luminous, and classical. IM4U leaned earthy and intimate, built around musk with soft floral undertones that hinted at skin and warmth. HeHe delivered a playful contrast: tropical fruit notes with melon facets, juicy and lighthearted. Y centered on hyacinth layered with Oriental nuances, giving it a green-floral core warmed by subtle spice. OoAh, described as aquilaria agallocha with woody notes—essentially an abstracted agarwood effect—was dry, resinous, and meditative, grounding the set with depth and calm. Each scent could be worn alone, but their true purpose was combination.

Accompanying the fragrances were tongue-in-cheek “recipes,” referred to as CoNcOcTiOnS, which encouraged users to mix drops like potions. These playful instructions promised everything from attracting romance to warding off bad luck or mending a broken heart. The humor was deliberate and affectionate, framing perfume not as a rigid luxury product but as personal folklore—half superstition, half self-expression. As one contemporary article quipped, “Madame Curie would have loved this,” invoking Marie Curie as a symbolic patron saint of curiosity and experimentation rather than literal chemistry.

APpLiEd CHeMiStRY was sold through upscale boutiques and museum shops around the world, reinforcing its status as a design object as much as a fragrance product. In the United States, it retailed for $48 at Chiasso locations on North Michigan Avenue and West Madison Street in Chicago. Thoughtfully conceived, simply and elegantly designed, and flawlessly manufactured, the set captured a very specific cultural moment—when design, irony, and personal ritual converged. Equal parts object, experience, and inside joke, APpLiEd CHeMiStRY invited its wearer not just to smell good, but to play, experiment, and believe—at least a little—in the magic of mixing things together and seeing what happens.

all images from ebay seller stellamae17