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Snappy suits made to odour

Kenneth Howe

AS IF MEN NEED MORE fashion decisions in their lives. When it comes to buying suits, forget about the weight of the wool or the cut of the cloth: dabblers now have, veritably, fashion scents. In Hong Kong alone, legions of men in suits are parading about in the essence of lemon and pine - fearless of triggering olfactory associations with dishwashing detergent or furniture polish.

The evolution of aromatherapy. Way beyond cardboard pine trees hanging from a car's rear-view mirror. Past potpourri, candles and massage oils. Local haberdashers have begun serving up fragrant formal wear, made possible by recent technology. Perfumed micro-capsules are woven into the 100 per cent wool suits during the spinning process, explains Danny Mok Shing-leong, senior manager of Kwun Kee tailors, which has sold about 1,000 locally since offering them last autumn. The scent begins to wear off after 10 or so dry-cleaning sessions, or two to three years, he says.

Claude Yeung bought his dark blue, lemon-scented number three months ago. The scent 'makes me feel fresh', says the 46-year-old. Lemon is by far the favourite, says Mok. Fond of 'trying new things' - not surprising for the creative director of an advertising company - Yeung says the suit provides an alibi should one decide to behave in a fresh manner. 'It is good for karaoke or discos,' he says. After a night of rubbing up to the opposite sex, 'When you go home and your wife asks, 'What's that fragrance?', at least you have one excuse.' When he stops laughing, he clarifies that such a scenario is the running joke among his 10 male friends, one of whom also bought a suit.

Actually, scented clothing is nothing new. During England's Tudor period, Elizabeth I popularised the fashion by wearing perfumed gloves. Two years ago the French concocted 'eau de cleavage' with a bra that has a sewn-in capsule in-between the cups. But it was three South Korean fashion houses - LG Fashion, Essess Heartist and Kolon International - that penetrated the stodgy, conservative realm of business. Introduced in spring 1999, the suits took off - the cognoscenti preferring lavender - among 20 to 30-something office workers inhabiting Seoul's hard-drinking, chain-smoking after-hours culture.

Mok happened upon the concept while watching a TV programme on hi-tech products and thought 'it would be a great selling point'. The 45-year-old's wardrobe now resembles a bouquet, though lemon is his favourite too, also citing 'freshness'. Such an adjective borders on sounding like a commercial for feminine-hygiene products but based on the psychology of aromatherapy, lemon is said to raise the spirits and pine aids concentration, Mok says. He clarifies, however, that the scents are subtle and often undetectable to others, at least in the business world where people often grant each other ample personal space.

'Encouraged' by local sales, Mok says mainland sales are 'absolutely great'. Scented suits, which are 10 per cent more expensive than a normal suit, accounted for more than 30 per cent of Kwun Kee's sales in China since last autumn. Mok says 'mainland customers are less traditional since they started wearing suits only about 20 years ago' and have a desire to 'stand out'.

'When suits became more common in the mainland people started wearing designer brands such as [Alfred] Dunhill.

'But nowadays, more and more people are getting rich so designer brands are commonplace. I've heard people say: 'I've got money. I want something really special'.' Or the latest gimmick, which is how Sam Melwani, owner of Sam's Tailor in Tsim Sha Tsui, views the offering. He reckons he has sold about 20 scented suits in the past six months, mostly to Americans and Europeans, but thinks the fad will go the way of Scotch-guard, which a few years ago was touted as a dry-cleaning alternative but fizzled.

'There's too much tradition in the local market. It may not be for everyone,' concedes George Yau, Kwun Kee's general manager of the ready-to-wear division. For the coming autumn he is looking at introducing more aromas, although he will probably steer clear of one of the manufacturer's options: garlic.

Personal tastes aside, some countries are snubbing such couture. In America, stores have reportedly resisted the technology for fear of lawsuits from people who have allergic reactions. And neighbouring Canada has declared 'fragrance-free' zones in offices and public places. But perhaps 'incense' suits, as they are fondly referred to by mainland Chinese, are nothing to sniff at.

Of the five senses, smell is considered the most powerful, being the only one that provides a direct nerve link between the brain and outside world. That's why some Japanese companies pipe in fragrances with the hope of increasing productivity, and in Paris the subways are scented to instil calm. Women, for example, are especially sensitive to body odours for sexual arousal and mate selection, according to Monell Chemical Senses Centre, an independent research facility in Philadelphia.

Mok, though, isn't taking the bait. 'I'm not sure whether scented suits increase my 'man charm',' he says. Male pheromones secreted in the underarm, however, are said to make men more sexually attractive to women, according to a study released this year by the British Psychological Society.

Combining this insight with a fact from Monell, that our sensitivity to scents is strongest between the hours of 5pm and 7pm - a time which conveniently coincides with most bars' happy hour, begs the question: can pheromone-impregnated outerwear be far off? Additional reporting by Ambrose Leung

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