Showing posts with label chic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chic. Show all posts

Saturday, June 6, 2020

Trussardi Donna (vintage, for women, 1984): fragrance review

Everything there is to know about the feminine fragrance by Trussardi from the early 1980s (1984 to be exact) can be seen right from the start. The mock croc white bottle is revealing everything there is to know about this distinguished, yet extinguished scent. It's substituted by lesser mortals. But it keeps a soft spot in the hearts of some of us.


Trussardi Donna bianco classico via

Both Trussardi scents (men's and women's) from the early 1980s were encased in that most evocative and luxurious of materials—supple leather—which hugged their contours the way one envisions the molds used by a sculptor. The shape is recognizably that of a flask, and Nicola Trussardi himself was responsible for that gorgeous presentation. There was a textural element involved with the mock-croc motif, inviting the hand over the surface to touch, to feel...the anomaly in the grain so inviting, so exciting, so mature... The classic sharp chypre structure with a lush floral component in the heart was not alien to our house. My mom's beloved Cabochard with its leathery note—arid, nose-tingling, and almost masculine—would only derive from a house specializing in leather. The spicy top note of coriander and the touch of green herbs, plus waxy aldehydes, gave a clean opening. The alliance with the styrax and leathery tonalities which make up the basic core of its base is what makes it a juxtaposition in two different ideas: herbal crispness pitted against inky smokiness. They're both non-smooth, non-pliable ideas, but they match in headstrong confidence. It's the material which flamboyant women with a devil-may-care swagger thrive on.


Trussardi for Women (1984) in its vintage iteration, I recall, gave off that classic perfume-y vibe which many chypres of the 1970s and 1980s used to emit, such as Jean Louis Scherrer or Gucci No.3, yet softer and less bitter than something more galbanum-rich such as Or Noir (liquid black gold like I have described in my article) or Silences. They were scents of clean grooming, yet sophisticated preparations, not just shower fresh like nowadays. Today, men of taste might wear them with no problems, and the vintage concentration rivals many a modern eau de parfum for sheer longevity on skin and clothes. It's such a pity that a newer generation will only be confused amidst all the different Donnas in the evolving and evolved Trussardi canon.

Friday, October 5, 2007

Chypre series 4: aesthetics

Previously on this series we mentioned briefly that chypres have apparently fallen out of favour in late years, with the exception of the very new "modern" ones discussed. And we pointed out that this is due to the differentiation in ingredients listed, but it must be accounted to something else as well.
After all Jacques Polge attempted to create a new breed of chypre without oakmoss in his 31 rue Cambon for Chanel Les Exclusifs, using a novel accord of iris and pepper. We could mention in passing that this had been reported by dr.Luca Turin a long time ago and I seriously doubt that had it not (and consequently heavily discussed) most people would accurately discern the nuances of those exact two notes. Because yes, 31 rue Cambon is very well-crafted and it seams a textured veil of soie sauvage that is quite different than the orientalised brocade of Coromandel or the chiffons of the rest of Les Exclusifs. One or two of course might profer the opinion that it is not as revolutionary as lauded in its final result, which is what matters most to the wearer anyway, but that would divert us from the point of today's article.

The matter is that chypres (and 31 rue Cambon among them, hence the inclusion) smell very different than the rest of the fragrant families. This is definitely a matter of aesthetics which might attract or repel anyone who tentatively opens this Pandora's box of perfumers' temperas; colours which they love to use, abuse and even distort to create nuanced recreations of abstract pictures that do not resemble anything in particular. If floral perfumes try to catch in some greater or lesser degree a glimpse of fragrant bouquets unfurling and fields in bloom, if citrus perfumes evoke the first bright days of summer and the joys of downing a frozen glass of sparkly, tangy liquid and if orientals make us visualise opulent maharanhis in their palaces adorned with heavy jewels and burning aromatic resins, chypres do not aim to offer a visual subtext to their message. Although they usually get described as mossy, earthy, deep and often damp -like the forest floor of an autumnal day- it is equally valid to note that they offer a smooth result in which none of the seperate notes raises itself in a high-pitched falsetto voice over the others, but they all work in a choral unison of unprecedented discipline and beauty. The notes blurr and blead into each other like watercolours on the canvas. But their finalised effect is usually not very much in tune with watercolours in their feel. They are more solid, substantial, offering great depth and dimension much like the oils on a J.M.W.Turner naval depiction. You feel the smoothness and sumptuousness of them as you apply them on your skin and this is their characteristic that accounts for profound and deep-seated love or hate towards them among perfume wearers.

Chypres also project a level of confidence in themselves. In this regard they share this quality with several orientals; but whereas orientals have a foot in Freudian notions of childhood attachements, since this is a category that is using elements that recall memories of comfort and nourishement (especially in recent years with the emergence of the subcategory of parfums gourmands) such as vanilla and culinary spices, chypres project a more cerebral attitude. They are frequently viewed as extremely sophisticated, whereas orientals might not be as much, and their wearer is often seen as a specimen of womanhood who would partake of The Financial Times on a regular basis. At least this is what the dominant perception is among the general and not so general public.
As Julia Muller in The Haarman & Reimer Book of Perfume notes:

"These perfume users {chypre users} view themselves as being harmonious, well-balanced individuals, who rarely have unhappy or depressive moods. All in all, they are satisfied with themselves and with their lives. They are realistic in their thinking and put less stock in their luck and more in their own deeds."

Perfume consultants attribute those characteristics to a group they term "Extrovert and emotionally stable", which if one dabbles in such things is represented by a special quadrant in the psychological test for perfume choosing known as the Colour Rosette Test.
According to Leffinwell (click here):
"In the color rosette test, the test subject selects from seven different color combinations the one that she likes best. If she chooses more than one rosette, she is asked to pick which of the two appeals most to her. A woman who picks the color combination of yellow, orange, red and pale green, for example, is not only extraverted, active, optimistic and positive – she’ll also tend to prefer fresh floral fragrance notes. Women with a preference for subdued, pastel-like hues like purple or colors like blue-black and mauve, on the other hand, tend to be introverted and pensive. They are likely to want Oriental scents. On the other hand, if the test subject has an equal preference for two color rosettes, she finds perfume creations interesting that unite both corresponding types of fragrances".

If nothing more, this generalisation is fun to peruse and might reveal some hidden aspects of psychology that might or might not bear any relevance to our psyche. There is even a section devoted to men!
For the full test click here.

There is also a more superficial element nevertheless to chypres and their perceived message. Often the very french word chic surfaces in conversations among people into perfume when discussing chypres. Perfume Shrine had discussed the concept of chic in perfumery previously and you can access the article clicking here. As you can see, chypres feature prominently in that notion, exactly because of their manufactured character that does not try to mimic nature but rather to interpret it through the lens of an intelligent human mind.
Sartorial choices therefore follow suit (and there is a pun in this!):
"In their desired lifestyle, these women do not have any interest in keeping up with fashion, in all of its varied manifestations. They love to look well cared for, and their clothing must always be suited to the occasion. In all matters, especially in the case of clothing, they display a pronounced sense of quality. Basically, there are not many very young women in this group of perfume users.”
(by Julia Muller)

Those elements discussed above might hold the secret to why recent years have been the tombstone on chypres. In a world revolving around air-headed celebrities who cannot read a book of chick-lit, let alone The Financial Times and in which low rise jeans stoop to down there revealing crass G-strings with fake Swarovski rhinestones, the attributes of classic chypre perfumes seem almost alien. And therefore shunned in favour of more complacent concoctions that might take shelf space at your local Sephora from those illustrious chypres of yore.



Stay tuned for a Titan of a legend reviewed in the upcoming posts and for analysis on the chronology of chypres in relation to the zeitgeist!

Pic of maison Dior courtesy of gettyimages, pic of Colour Rosette from Leffinwell

Thursday, September 21, 2006

What is Chic ?

The human brain needs small incentive to go on a day dreaming track when provoked. A casual question on a perfume forum made me think about what constitutes chic in perfume. The unanimous response reigning supreme was Chanel #19, a scent I personally love and consider very chic indeed. Other chypres also featured prominently. However the issue deserves pondering on and not just writing it off with a few predictable recommendations.
Antisthenes the famous Greek philosopher, has a saying attributed to him, by which I have abided all my life: roughly translated, the beginning of wisdom lies in exploring meanings. So what is chic? I have thought about that, first of all.

via tubearc.blogspot.com

People have different definitions: some consider chic equals “confidence, timelessness...fragrances that are effortlessly stylish”, others say that it “means fashionable, to be sure, but also stylish in a kind of lean 'n' mean, insolent, provocative way” and cites models of a certain designer house as examples.
Ayala, a perfumer herself had this to offer: “timelessly stylish (as opposed to the passing fashion-du-jour). There must be something about it just a little bit cool or aloof in a way - as if there is no real attachment to the scent (or the fashion item), and they are just used as a tool...”

Luca Turin addressed the issue in a humorous way in The Emperor of Scent:
“Chic is first when you don’t have to prove you have money, either because
you have lots, so it doesn’t matter or because you don’t have and it doesn’t
matter. Chic is not aspirational. Chic is the most impossible thing to define.
Luxury is a humorless thing, largely and when humor happens in luxury it happens
involuntarily. Chic is all about humor. Which means chic is about intelligence.
And there has to be oddness –most luxury is conformist and chic cannot be. Chic
must be polite and not incommode others, but within that it can be as weird as
it wants.”
By that same token, Madame Clouzot, sister to film director Henri-Georges Clouzot in talking about French perfumery she deemed only two houses as really great French perfumers. She then ascribed Guerlain to cocottes (=kept women), while Caron was for duchesses (proper, proper chic). What the French consider chic nowadays is “a sort of kept-woman vulgarity”, luxury that shows. So I do find myself simpatico with that opinion expressed above. 

Many times women’s glossy magazines, fashion editors and coffee table books devoted to style do spreads with images alluding to the following ladies: Jackie Kennedy-Onassis, Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly - and Katherine Hepburn if the editor is having a good day...More subversive personalities, like Diane Vreeland or D.Furstenberg, are considered exceptions that consolidate the rule. In that light, chic at some point deteriorated to certain "style-icons" of Western perception and scope.
A pearl necklace, a camel coat and black leather pumps look. You know what I mean. Timeless, classic, a little preppy. (I am having a difficult time imagining in those terms what would be chic in India, for instance, if one takes into consideration clothes’ tradition and climatic differences) But what was it that equated chic with that look? Is this chic? Not if a hundred women out there go out and copy it; because isn't chic supposed to be sophisticated? And what is so sophisticated and individual in following in the footsteps of someone else, someone as well known as the style icons just mentioned? I mean, everyone would expect it. Hmmmm...

In the interests of objectivity I searched the term online too.

The Free Dictionary had this to offer:
adj. chic•er, chic•est
1. Conforming to the current fashion; stylish:
chic clothes; a chic boutique.
2. Adopting or setting current fashions and
styles; sophisticated: chic, well-dressed young executives. See Synonyms at
fashionable.
noun
1. The quality or state of being stylish;
fashionableness.
2. Sophistication in dress and manner; elegance.

By that definition, chic has a stylish air, a contemporary element (not something obsolete) and yet possesses elegance aplenty.
Also there is this definition by Wikipedia: “means stylish or smart, as reflected in styles of fashion such as heroin chic or boho-chic”. This leaves much more leeway, though, for almost anything.

via goldgorgeous.blogspot.com
So what are the perfumes that personify all the elements of chic? What is elegant, contemporary, sophisticated, non aspirational, confident, insouciant, and humourous?
Maybe it can be better defined by what is not in that league.

Too much luxury has an effect of “blinding” the sensory receptors, registering as bordering on show-off. Cascades of costly ingredients, rich velvet feel, gold tinged nuances: all that points to the direction that the wearer wants to be perceived as wearing a rich perfume (why that would be desirable, enough to make it to a beauty magazine such as Allure with the corresponding views of Frédéric Malle -the head of “ Éditions de parfums”- in the article "How to smell discreetly rich", is perhaps the theme of another article). What could be included in this super-luxe category? Obviously the Clive Christian and Amouage perfumes, which are so costly they surely stand as the olfactory equivalent of a Hèrmes Birkin bag -in crocodile skin, no less; costs as much as a small car and has a waiting list of at least two years. I’d rather give my money to charity, thank you.

Unfortunately, although not as pretentious, there are other perfumes, lovely, gorgeous perfumes that bring to mind lush plush and starched banknotes: Joy, Shalimar, Boucheron femme and homme, 24 Faubourg. They don’t smell un-chic. But they do smell conformist, like someone who wants others to know he/she has good taste. Alas many oriental fragrances suffer from this affliction.

Too much sexuality is also anathema to chic, not because very sexual beings are not chic per se (they can be, as proven by some), but because advertising one’s sexuality with perfume might border on the desperate. So hairy-chested, virile, traditional male aftershaves that purport their attractant properties like Kouros pheromonic experiments and perfumes that have the dubious fame of resembling odorata sexualis (such as Musc Ravageur, Boudoir, Shocking, Obsession or Ambre Sultan to name but a few) bring to mind catcalls to carnality and cannot be seen as insouciant. Sorry…They do serve their other purposes admirably, though.
Too much experimentation on the other hand, that avant garde that is so prevalent among niche brands with unusual synthetic ingredients that mimic everyday objects of sometimes even an unpleasant nature, are also removed from the elegant part of the equation. Comme des garηons is a prime candidate, although I love their Incense series.
Obsolete creations that have withstood a myriad incarnations or bring on the reminiscence of another era can also be excluded. They do attach themselves to ageist jokes of a cruel nature and this is sadly to their detriment as well as to the joker’s. I am afraid Quelques Fleurs suffers from this fate, along with certain old lavenders, such as Yardley English Lavender. It’s not a fault of the perfume; it’s just that they seem far-away and not intended for a major revival.
And there is no need for me to elaborate on why fragrances that smell too much like food do not have associations with chic, now is there?

So what does that leave? I find iris scents and non invasive chypres chic. Some aldehydics can be too, if they don't conform too much. Even some select orientals could, if one wears Opium the way I do: very casually. Yes, Chanel #19 is very chic, exactly because it never shows off and is never more or less than a lady. Miss Dior is also playfully audacious and naughty under the effluvium of floral notes. Rive Gauche vintage is so coldly steely it can cut a swath in a room and make everyone wonder without ever becoming bothersome. Bois des iles is wonderfully composed to sit equally well on men and women, in formal or informal attire. Tauer’s L’air du desert worn by a discerning male could be very chic. Defiant. Mitsouko in all its veiled mystery can be chic, simply because it never elicits the instant recognition compliments and is sexual in a most intriguing, never obvious way. Guerlain Vetiver is always chic; dicreet but individual. Alpona or Jicky on a man could be all those things as well. I would like to put Madame Rochas in its older incarnation in this league, along with modern ones like Voleur de roses, Timbuktu, Fumerie Turque, Tubereuse Criminelle and Iris Poudre. Possibly there are others too.

Does perfume play such a major part in grafting chic-ness onto an individual? Is that even possible? I don’t know for certain. All I know is that chic needs humour. So maybe even the least expected perfume can be viewed as chic on a person who has the wit to make it his/her own.

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