Starbucks will brew your latte just the way you like it, and Victoria's Secret will let you mix 'n match a custom bikini -- but not until now has the everyday consumer been able to create a personalized fragrance.

Enter Scenterprises -- the distributor of The Perfume Studio, UK --who creates a customized fragrance journey for beauty junkies, bridal groups, the curious and corporate types alike. The adventure was created by fragrance expert and president Sue Phillips, who has formulated scents for such prestigious brands as Tiffany, Chopard, Lancôme and Trish McEvoy.

Custom fragrances have previously been the domain of the royal, wealthy and privileged, as blends often take months and endless reincarnations to finally perfect, with costs easily seeping into the thousands.

Instead, Scenterprises, takes 18 high quality notes that cover the gamut of scent -- from citrus to woods to florals -- and presents them in easy-to-blend formulas that guests discover during a one and a half hour "journey."

For the master-led experience, custom blending of your fragrance, the finished spray bottle and registration into the company's database so that your ingredient formula is forever remembered, the total cost comes to $135. Refill vials are $55.

"People want fragrance to reflect their personality and individuality. But my events are also sensory celebrations that give guests an appreciation for the love and joy of fragrance. I help people enjoy their sense of smell. It's truly like taking the time to stop and smell the roses," says Phillips, who trains other fragrance ambassadors to lead parties all over the country.

Yet when I was invited to Phillips' Upper East Side New York apartment to take the fragrance journey myself, I have to admit; I was initially very tepid.

You see, many fragrances trigger full-blown migraines for me -- and I know I'm not alone on this one. I envisioned a spritzing session uncomfortably ending with a heady rush for fresh air and a swig of painkillers. Honestly, the idea of sniffing 18 fragrances back-to-back sounded like my idea of torture.

But I reluctantly decided to at least give it a go for the sake of the story.



Phillips began the session with a fun personality test that was a grown-up version of the girly variety you often find in 'tween magazines; Is your ideal vacation a spa getaway or sight-seeing excursion? Do you feel most at home in silk or wool? The purpose was to match me with a scent identity, in case I needed guidance later while deciding on my formula.

Then laying out the glittering test tubes of fragrance, Phillips uncovered the story behind each scent in a soft, melodious and very fancy South African accent.

Sometimes she asked me to guess what I thought the scent was; other times she'd ask me to close my eyes and tell her what color I saw when I sniffed. Other scents came with exotic tales that only a former theater performer could recount with such passion and drama.

"One of the perfumers I met when I used to go to Paris told me the difference between French and American women. 'American women just spray on their wrists and go, and the fragrance soon disappears. French women understand that the scent is sensual, that it rises, and spray on their ankles and behind their knees, finishing at their wrists and neck,'" Phillips recounted in a flawless French accent that was big on the "ze."

About halfway through smelling six or seven vials, I noticed something very strange; I had no sign of a migraine. And we had gone through my nemesis of several florals. I was so perplexed that I had to finally mention it to Phillips.

"The difference between pure, high quality fragrance and the synthetic kind that just about everyone thinks is fragrance is tremendous. I have never had someone get sick from going through all 18 of my fragrances yet, even the ones who think they will be, who initially want nothing to do with it," said Phillips.

And I had to agree; the subtle, fresh and slightly powdery scent of the florals were like a freshly picked stem straight from the garden -- and not anything like the dizzying and sickly sweet stuff you find on store shelves.

After finally picking my three favorites and absorbing a lesson on the difference between top, middle and base notes, I watched as Phillips blended the fragrance straight from the vials with a dropper into a pretty pink spray bottle I had also picked out.

As if that isn't cool enough, you get to name your own scent too -- which The Perfume Studio keeps on record with formula details so that you can easily reorder refills or other ancillaries like scented home candles.

The entire experience also left me zenned-out, in a most soothing and spa-like way. I finally understood that Phillips wasn't just being cute when she said the journey really does make you stop and smell the roses.

I came home with a fragrance I've since received endless compliments on, and to which no one else can buy anywhere.

Sorry, Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian -- your fragrances have nothing on Grace Gold.