Morning Chess: The Fragrance of Leadership and the Forgotten Power of Middle Managers
There are fragrances that dazzle with excess, and then there are fragrances that command with restraint. Morning Chess by Vilhelm Parfumerie belongs to the latter. It does not scream for attention; instead, it plays the long game. Bright bergamot at first spray, then a rich descent into patchouli, black amber, and leather. A fragrance inspired by a grandfather and grandson playing chess together on summer mornings. Simple. Strategic. Generational.
When I first wore Morning Chess, I couldn’t stop thinking about work—not in the burdensome sense, but in the way scent sometimes unlocks a hidden analogy. I realized: this fragrance is an organizational portrait. It smells like middle management.
Not because it’s ordinary (it’s not), but because it carries the complexity of roles that are overlooked, under-celebrated, and yet absolutely essential. Middle managers are the heart notes of every workplace—strategic, stabilizing, and quietly powerful. And just like Morning Chess, their influence lingers far beyond the opening impression.
Fragrance as a Map of Organizational Life
In perfumery, every composition is built on three layers:
Top Notes: the immediate impression, often bright, citrusy, fleeting.
Heart Notes: the core of the fragrance, complex and enduring.
Base Notes: the foundation, what lingers after everything else fades.
This structure mirrors organizational life. Employees are the top notes—energetic, innovative, full of potential. Executives are the base—shaping long-term vision, strategy, and legacy. And middle managers? They are the heart, binding both ends together.
Without the heart, the top would vanish too quickly, and the base would remain abstract. Without middle managers, employees would burn out or disengage, and executives would be left wondering why their “big ideas” never translated into reality.
The Opening Notes: Employees as Bergamot
In Morning Chess, the first impression is bergamot: crisp, zesty, awakening. It announces itself, but it is fragile. Bergamot is volatile—it cannot sustain itself for long without deeper notes beneath it.
So it is with employees. They are the vitality of the organization. Their creativity, problem-solving, and enthusiasm bring the daily spark. But energy without structure quickly fades. Left unsupported, employees become disillusioned, disconnected, or disenchanted.
The truth is, most employees don’t leave organizations because of the CEO; they leave because of the absence—or toxicity—of their direct managers. Just as bergamot requires a strong heart to extend its presence, employees require managers who can translate their energy into sustained impact.
The Heart Notes: Middle Managers as Leather and Patchouli
Once the brightness softens, Morning Chess reveals its depth: patchouli, warm and earthy; leather, rich and grounding. These are not flashy notes. They don’t grab attention in the same way. But they are what make the fragrance memorable.
Middle managers carry this same weight. They are interpreters—decoding executive vision into actionable strategy, while also amplifying employee needs upward. They live in tension: pressured from above, expected to deliver below.
And yet, like the heart notes of fragrance, they are what give shape and meaning to the whole. They absorb complexity. They balance contradictions. They hold the game together when others are focused on their individual moves.
A chessboard without a strategist is chaos. A workplace without strong middle management is the same.
The Base Notes: Executives and the Longevity of Culture
Finally, Morning Chess settles into black amber and musk—warm, resonant, long-lasting. The base is what lingers on skin hours later, the part others remember.
Executives, too, are remembered for their long-term vision, but here’s the irony: employees rarely encounter executives enough for their culture to be lived directly. What employees actually experience day to day is filtered through their managers.
Which means middle managers, not executives, are the real carriers of organizational “sillage”—the cultural trail that lingers long after meetings end. The tone of a one-on-one conversation, the fairness of workload distribution, the recognition given (or withheld)—these are the black amber and musk of organizational life.
The Silent Strain on Middle Management
But let’s be honest: many organizations fail to honor the heart of their fragrance. Middle managers are undertrained, overextended, and often seen as expendable. Companies pile strategy, compliance, performance evaluation, and people development onto their shoulders while simultaneously stripping them of authority.
It is no wonder many managers experience what researchers call “the squeeze”: they are crushed between unrealistic executive expectations and the very real human needs of their teams.
When ignored, this strain doesn’t just hurt managers—it weakens the entire fragrance. The top notes (employees) grow bitter. The base (executives) becomes disconnected. The whole organizational composition falls flat.
Lessons from Chess: Strategy, Patience, Ritual
The chess metaphor of Morning Chess is instructive here. The game is not won in a single move. It is about patterns, foresight, and positioning. Middle managers, like chess players, must think several steps ahead. They are not simply moving pieces; they are shaping outcomes.
But chess is also about ritual. The daily discipline of showing up, of playing the long game, of honoring both the competition and the relationship. Middle managers who succeed cultivate rituals with their teams: weekly check-ins, consistent feedback loops, intentional recognition. These may seem small, but they are the difference between chaos and cohesion.
What Organizations Can Learn from Morning Chess
If companies listened to fragrance, they would learn the following:
A bright opening is not enough. Hiring brilliant employees won’t matter if you don’t sustain them with strong management.
A powerful base cannot carry alone. Vision and mission statements fade unless embodied in everyday leadership.
The heart is everything. Invest in your middle managers—not only with training but with trust. Give them authority, not just accountability.
What Middle Managers Can Learn from Morning Chess
If managers embraced the lessons of this fragrance, they would:
See themselves as culture carriers, not just task distributors.
Embrace the duality of bergamot and leather—energizing when needed, grounding when necessary.
Recognize that leadership is not always dramatic; sometimes it is about quiet consistency, like a scent that lingers unnoticed yet unforgettable.
The Employee’s Role in the Fragrance
And for employees? Remember this: you are the top note, and that is no small thing. You set the atmosphere, you bring the spark. But your longevity comes from being part of a composition larger than yourself. Recognize and value the managers who champion you, and don’t underestimate your own role in sustaining the fragrance of the culture.
Final Thought: The Fragrance That Lasts
Morning Chess began as a ritual between two people—a grandfather and grandson, a game of strategy, patience, and connection. That intimacy is what makes the fragrance so compelling: it is about presence, not performance.
The same is true of leadership. Middle managers and employees together create the presence of an organization—the lived culture, the atmosphere people actually experience. Executives may design the fragrance, but managers and employees are the ones who wear it.
And just like Morning Chess, the true test of leadership is not in how loud it announces itself, but in how well it lasts.