Chanel No.5 Through the Years

The renewed interest in Chanel No.5, due to the new advertising campaign with Audrey Tautou, reaffirms what has been a shared secret: "The powers that be at Chanel claim that a product bearing its name (be it in the form of scent, soap or bath oil) is sold every six seconds". And that the production, shot before the unfolding of the current economic crisis spared no costs: "A crew of 25 people reportedly worked on it for three weeks last May, filming everywhere from Paris to Limoges and, of course, Turkey". [source: Independent]

The new commercial {presented here} is a more haunting version with a nod to traditional values compared to the all dancing, outright-glamour-and-paparazzi-escaping of the one with Nikole Kidman some years ago. Shot by Baz Lurhman the fiary tale "I'm a dancer" routine was a modern, upbeat version ~with more thigh shown~ of the Roman Holiday scenario: VIP who finds true love at the side of a mere mortal, if you recall your Audrey Hepburn collection correctly. Funnily enough, Kidman looks nothing like Audrey Hepburn in her super-tall frame and attenuated blonde features, although Tautou does bear a passing resemblance thanks to the immense doe-eyes of both brunettes.
The current No.5 commercial reprises the romantic scenario "feminine classique" with a nod to the story-telling fantasy unconventional style of the OVNI, aka an anything-goes-style in which a sense of parody might be injected or the fantasy materializes. The latest Jean Pierre Jeunet commercial for Chanel No.5 uses angle-shots, photography and editing style which err on the side of romanticism, rather than the parody he had exhibited in Delicatessen or the follow-the-pale-faced-gamine-with-doe-eyes of Amélie. The invocation of the bottle in the reflections of lights from the window panes of the Orient Express train however, the warm saturation of colours, the bird's eye angle at the end showing the protagonists hugging while the interlocking CCs are left to shine on the mosaics through the fade-out are all masterful choices of film direction. The final shot reminds me of the bird'eyes shot of the fateful couple shot by Francis Ford Coppola in his Dracula (a film full of intertextuality in itself).

Chanel always paid a lot of attention to how they presented No.5 to the world and I took the initiative to present a little retrospective through the years a propos the latest:

The first illustration for No.5 featured famous illustrator's Georges Goursat/Sem stylised silhouette of a flapper, the fashion for liberated women being to embrace the new fragrance; the flowing dress in typical 20s flapper style, the bobbed hair, the ecstatic hands in the air. This was not an advertisement nevertheless (Sem was known for satirizing Chanel in his previous attempts) but an acknowledgement of the popularity of the new scent to its intented audience: the fashion-conscious and the hip.

© ADAGP

Next Coco Chanel herself posed at the Ritz Hotel suite where she stayed to photographer François Kollard in 1937, the grandeur of the suite and the majestic fireplace echoing the luxury of the fragrance.

The tradition of pampering connected to No.5 persisted through the years through advertisements which hinted at the rapture and sense of luxury which its use provoked.


Marilyn Monroe ~although never chosen by Chanel herself as a spokeswoman for the fragrance~ became the best ambassadress and advertising vehicle of the brand in 1960. She revealed in an interview which asked her what she wore during her schedule that Chanel No.5 was her choice of bed attire. A indelible memory was scratched in the flummoxes of people's minds to this day and No.5 became legendary to people who had never thought of perfume before! Certainly not in those terms!

Ali Mc Graw and her more down-to-earth strong beauty took the torch in 1966 when she posed with her dark features as the face of Chanel No.5. The choice showed the emphasis which Chanel placed on their American audiences even then.


The 70s were scattered with print and TV ads of classically beautiful Catherine Deneuve (once upon a time face of Marianne, the French national emblem), the one who has been more closely related into people's minds with No.5. Ironically Deneueve was opting for Yves Saint Laurent for her clothes and for Guerlain for her perfumes! It doesn't matter: think of Chanel No.5 and some old ad depicting Catherine Deneuve is certain to pop up in your mind.


Unknown beauties were continuing to feature in advertisements or Chanel No.5 but the glamour and joie de vivre were always featured when the famous number was brought forth.


The last French face to front Chanel No.5 in the late 70s (in memorable Ridley Scott directed commercials) and all through the 80s, was Carole Bouquet. The French actress wasn't the most talented one to come out of the country but her beauty and chic radiated through the pages in classy sexiness.


It was the bottle itself which took center stage in the pop images reminiscent of the Andy Warhol technique before the Nicole Kidman contract in 1985. Actually Warhol never made any reproductions of the No.5 bottle: it was a gesture of homage.

Estella Warren, swimmer, model and actress, was the early 2000s face for Chanel No.5 in what was an unforgetable campaign of commercials filmed by Luc Besson reprising the Little Red Riding Hood fairy tale in a most imaginative and creative melange. The print ads were visually striking, but not the same thing at all.


And then there was she who was at the height of her Hollywood career after worthy choices following an infamous divorce from Tom Cruise: Nicole Kidman had arrived and securing a contract to front Chanel No.5 was its apotheosis.

Please look at Perfume Shrine posts on Chanel No.5 commercial short-films through the years, clicking this link: Advertising Series part 1, I don't want to set the world on Fire.

Behind the Knee...

A commercial NOT to be missed! An old, rare (never seen it linked before) clip for Chanel No.5 with Catherine Deneuve seducing us through the screen, talking about her man and how they indulge each other.
Click here to watch La Deneuve!

You've probably never seen it because they mispelled the Chanel name...

Next week we will tackle an exciting niche line flying under the radar, review vintage treasures and have lots of surprises to come too. Stay tuned!

Pic of 1970s ad via Okadi

Caught In Her Clutches ~Ma Griffe by Carven: fragrance review

Mademoiselle Carven defined her fragrant prototype as "an outdoor perfume that needs to give up its heady character", resembling her, hence the name and the packaging: "white for innocence, youth, and freshness; green because to me it's the most beautiful colour in the world". The creation was none other than Ma Griffe (my signature), the legendary 1946 masterpiece of -by then- already anosmic Jean Carles, for which a startlingly different advertising campaign was devised: parachuting Trocadero in Paris with thousands of sample bottles! What a wonderful idea!

But Carven wasn't born so. Petite to extremis, Mademoiselle Carmen de Tomaso founded a fashion house at ni6, Rond Point des Champs Elysées to cater to dainty women's needs like her own, among them Michelle Morgan and Edith Piaf. She decided very early on that her Spanish-sounding name was not on a par in the Paris scene; so she went through the whole alphabet substituting consonants till she stumbled upon V. Carven it would be, alors! From then on she produced frocks as well as frags, from Vert et Blanc and the iconic men's Vétiver to the trio of Robe d'un Jour, Robe d'un Soir and Robe d'un Rêve (a dress for day, a dress for evening and a dress for a dream).

Ma Griffe is referenced in Janet Fitch's novel White Oleander , a story about dysfunctional foster care, as the signature scent of Olivia Johnstone, a stylish and agreeable prostitute next door who befriends the young narrator Astrid and later gives her a bottle of Penhaligon's, a metaphor for their relationship. Fitch had an aunt who was an actress, spoke French and traveled to Paris, so when "a really chic French perfume" was needed, Ma Griffe came to mind.

True to form, Ma Griffe is a very Parisian idea of a springtime and summer fragrance, très élegant, its cooling freshness contrasting with warmth underneath, powdery as nothing else can be and starkly green. The gardenia note is constructed on styralyll acetate, same as in Miss Dior one year later on a formula by Jean Carles perfectioned by Paul Vacher. Generally floral chypres of the times relied on the heady greenness of this synthesized aroma for their kick of feminine guiles, before progressing to jasmolactone and the tiglates of today.
Like I had written when composing the Chypre Series, Ma Griffe was conceived to be "very powdery dry and quite spicy thanks to the weird note of styrax, [...and] managed to be assertive in its name (it means "my signature", but also "my talon") and supremely sparkly and feminine in its aroma. It marked the introduction of chypres into the arena of professional women. Those were not factory workers of the war or flappers; they were secretaries at the new firms; twin set in place, string of pearls and a slick of lipstick on impeccably powdered faces. The psychology of those new chypres talked about women who earned their living by themselves, but did not manifest themselves as sexual predators: There is a sense of detachment and intelligence".


Sadly, Ma Griffe has changed its colours like a cornered chameleon over the years, due to change of ownership of the brand, resulting in the occasional cheapening of the formula, opposing opinions and confusion when trying to locate a bottle that prompts the djin to come out. The formula has indeed been reworked multiple times since its birth, ending with the latest version of 2006 eau de parfum being a one-dimensional soapy floral. Current owndership of Arco International is reportedly trying to reposition it. Let's hope so!

Maria, also known as Bittergrace to her accomplishes in pagan reversion, critters' photography, political wit and artistic smuttiness, had been most kind in sending me a round of vintage versions for me to compare and contrast with my own and the memories of the women in my family who have worn Ma Griffe faithfully.

The oldest, coming from the 70s in a splash bottle smells intensely citrusy, with an aldehydic fizz that makes a sparkling overture to the floral green proceedings. Since bergamot was one of the first photo sensitizers to be heavily restricted, I assume the second batch in a clear swirl-capped bottle, which comes from the 80s, has lost its shining citrus tang due to that. In addition it is heavily powdery and more assertive, in accordance to the times perhaps, with a pleasing off note that manages to remind me of the impossibly chic fragrance my grandmother wore. Last, but not least, an early to mid-90s formula of parfum de toilette reveals facets of the 80s vintage but less potent, while still not as bright as the first one, but quite good.
Maria warned me about the 'eau de toilette' in a broad-shouldered bottle with a green plastic cap, describing it as "just unbelievably awful. Avoid it like the plague!" Duly noted, Maria!

Originally Ma Griffe was marketed as a young scent at a time when the youth segment had not been catered for. Ironically one of the most common complaints is it smells old. Myself, I ascribe that only to changed perceptions and vogues.
Ma Griffe can be traced on online discounters, certain shops and on Ebay. Careful attention to packaging and bottles as well as sampling from different periods might help you find the version you prefer.

Notes:
Top: Gardenia, Galbanum, Aldehydes, Clary sage
Middle: Jasmine, Ylang-Ylang, Rose, Sandal, Vetiver
Base: Styrax, Cinnamon, Benzoin, Tonka Bean, Labdanum, Musk

Pics courtesy of parfum de pub. Clip originally uploaded by courageousjohnny on Youtube

The Agony and the Ecstasy part2: control and surrender in fragrance

Continuing from yesterday’s post, today we occupy ourselves with the matter of control versus surrender as manifested in matters of relationships as well as sensual escapades that pertain to olfaction.

The amount of control we exercise in indulging our fragrant desires is not proportionate to the pleasure thus derived. On the contrary it varies according to the occasion and circumstances. Although usually control is assumed to be a desirable quality and one that is highly regarded, especially in western society with its competitive background, it is often that it also acts as a binding force that ties us to refusal of sensuous pleasure. The latter could be best arrived at through surrender to stimuli that have or have not been chosen by us in the first place. Imagine the surprising whiff of baking goods when walking past a bakery or the intoxication of smelling a familiar aroma on a stranger passing us on the street. Those are instances in which our degree of control of what we perceive is close to nil. Yet we derive pleasure from them.
Of course one could very well argue that the reverse is also within the sphere of probability. A close encounter with a smell that has foul associations in our mind makes the proximity with the vessel that perpetuates it insufferable, a true torture. In those instances we would dearly wish that we could exercise control over what we actually smell.
Surrender also has a somewhat fatalist tone to it, as if there is some predestined course of events, a kismet that accounts for our experiences instead of us shaping our present and future. The matter quickly becomes philosophical, which is perhaps beyond the scope of this post.

If we were to investigate cinematic examples of this conflict we revert to the 1960s classic by Spanish master director Luis Buñuel “Belle de jour”.
In it Catherine Deneuve stars as Séverine, the repressed wife of Pierre, an upper class doctor; sexually frigid with him, yet harbouring fantasies of a sadomasochistic nature which lead her to become a day-time high class prostitute in a posh brothel run by a knowledgeable French woman. There her fantasies take shape and form, although often following alternative avenues that include Chinese sex toys, assimilated necrophilia and voyeurism. However, although Séverine would like to act out her fantasies with her husband whom she loves, she capitulates to men to whom she is indifferent to in a surrender of the senses that satisfies some inner need that cannot be met in her bourgeois existence. Her rencontre with a criminal youth and also with an acquaintance who exerts control over her in daring tones –as he is intrigued by her iciness which he hopes to shatter- in her regular impeachable life will forever alter her cosmos and make her the victim or the culprit of fate.
As the director himself said:

"All my life I've been harassed by questions: Why is something this way and not another? How do you account for that? This rage to understand, to fill in the blanks, only makes life more banal. If we could only find the courage to leave our destiny to chance, to accept the fundamental mystery of our lives, then we might be closer to the sort of happiness that comes with innocence."

The whole layout of the film exploits many ideas that pertain to youth (the distinct innocence of youth preyed on by the older, more experienced man played by Michel Picolli); to class and elegance of a bourgeois aesthetic (the impeccably decked in Yves Saint Laurent couture Séverine wearing Roger Vivier classic buckle low pumps is a fashion plate for eternity); to fantasy vs reality (what is true and what happens inside Séverine’s head? The end is particularly ambiguous). The viewer is left to decide for themselves interpreting clues any way they choose. This is especially evident in the scene in which a client at the brothel brings a Chinese box to use, upon perusing which all the other girls shudder except for Séverine who remains fascinated. Asked on what the box included the director was quick to comment that there was no point in it containing anything in particular, as the scene was meant to signify the vast difference of mentality between the heroine and the other girls.

One particularly brilliant moment that pertains to perfume and our issue is the scene in the bathroom when Séverine accidentally smashes a big bottle of Mitsouko by Guerlain before she sets out to spend the afternoon at the brothel. (It can be seen in the trailer attached below, clicking on the screen). The bottle is in the big round style with the pyramid stopper that was quite popular all through the Sixties.


Mitsouko is a perfect example of a scent that is implicated in sex and the issues of control vs surrender. Much like the literary heroine that inspired its name (the Japanese girl in the novel “La Bataille”) it has a rich heart and sensual base that extol an animalic presence of labdanum and the earthiness of oakmoss and vetiver which combine to give the more ethereal elements of floral notes a subversive mantle. Although Mitsouko has all the pedigree of a well brought up upper-class lady, this is only the surface which one could easily scrape to find a ferocious needy sensuality about to manifest itself in surprising throes.

Another one of Catherine Deneuve’s brilliant roles in a film by the same director is “Tristana”, a different take on the issues of control vs surrender. The setting in this one is quite different than the rich upscale Parisian apartment of Séverine that makes us dream of an idle pampered existence that is laced with naughty fantasies. Instead Tristana is a poor orphan girl in a Spanish village trust into the care of an older gentleman, the respected due to his honorable nature (despite his socialistic views about business and religion) Don Lope. Nevertheless the one flaw of Don Lope is his weakness towards women and he seduces Tristana, all the while saying that she is as free as he is. He will have to face the consequences though, when she in turn acts on this freedom, when -upon becoming his wife- she tortures and humiliates the husband she despises.
The subjects of fascism vs socialism, old age, Catholicism and sex are relentlessly explored and in the end the innocent girl becomes a cynical wile woman who believes in nothing any more while the worldly Don Lope played by Fernando Ray becomes rather belatedly the father figure that Tristana needed in the first place. As he reaches the peace he was pursuing all along he exclaims 'It's snowing so hard outside, but in this house, I'm nice and warm. What's there not to be happy about?' It is poignant that he recognizes only too late that acceptance, surrender to the course of life is a surer way to inner peace than struggling to impose one’s will.

Watch the "Tristana" trailer clicking on the screen.


Because to my mind there is an inherent melancholic touch to what I interpret as the loss of innocence, the perfume that I would choose to anoint the beautiful Tristana with is none other than L’Heure Bleue by Guerlain. One of their great classics, issued in 1912, it was inspired by “the blue hour”, that magical moment when the sun has set, but the sky hasn’t yet found its stars, when the odour of flowers intensifies.
Wearing L'Heure Bleue is like partaking in a secret rite of passage that an innocent soul goes through to meet their unintended destiny, just like Tristana in her quest for true love. The bittersweet smell of aniseed is the poignant thread that travels through the journey of life, full of experiences, full of disappointments that make the heart strings ache. Cloves and powdery heliotrope providing the backdrop of a darker theme, while the heady damascene rose and jasmine shine as the memorable sweet moments of happiness found adrift an existence that exerts no control over facts. As the scent of L'heure bleue unfolds, you are left with an impression of rejection, of refusal, of an idealism that is crashed by the vagaries of life that makes me inwardly sigh for all the lost causes and dreams that might have been.
It is also one of Catherine Deneuve's personal choices of perfume in her vast wardrobe of fragrances and I can very well see how she might be partial to its soft caress that whispers of times past.

Next post will persist in this genre with more perfume references. Stay tuned!


Pics from film Belle de Jour courtesy of toutsurdeneuve. Portrait of Deneuve by Raymond Darollet courtesy of Toutsurdeneuve. Clips from Youtube