Chanel No.5 L'Eau: fragrance review & marketing insights

 Chanel No.5 L'Eau, endorsed by the debutantes of the Chinese press, has been hailed as an innovation, but it's really "new old school". And I'm stating this in a positive light. It's a very likeable fragrance by Chanel which retains the spirit of the classic with a very contemporary sensibility of new beginnings and a freshness that differs from the exigencies of the 1920s, a century later. But its composition is not innovative, rather it makes abstract and elegant (in the mathematical sense) what has been passed down from tradition, in order to appear new. 

To wit, the use of aldehyde C8 is an addition that is not particularly modernist, nor is Australian sandalwood or the fractional-distillation ylang ylang that Polge père (Jacques) and Polge fils (Olivier) have been surely contemplating using for a couple of years now. The balancing act of the fragrance lies in judging how the citrusy freshness extends and rejuvenates the rose in the heart. And how an aldehydic fragrance appears non stuffed, nor "old lady perfume" (explained).

The core of No.5 L'Eau is shifted from the densely ylang and perceptible musk chord that dominates the modern varietals of No.5 to the delicate, wisp-like chord of citrus and rose. Almost a skin scent. By definition the concentration is light, ethereal, reflected in the choice of Lily-Rose Depp as the face of the ads. But why an ethereal version with a youth as the face?

It all started in the 80s when then in-house perfumer, the erstwhile Jacques Polge, created the first real "tampering" of the authentic formula to bring it up to par with the powerhouses of the decade of excess. When you have to keep your footing in the market that saw the original typhoon of Dior's Poison and the lead density of detonator of amber waves that was the original Obsession by Calvin Klein, you have to have a classy and elegant formula boosted to its logical limit. Ergo No.5 received a generous helping dose of the sandalwood synthetic Polysantol which effectuated that smooth, lactic boost that was missing from the earlier versions. No.5 Eau de Parfum is possibly not the "truest" No.5 but it is a satisfying edition that is made with great care.

Chanel continued to keep a very tight, and careful, modus operandi on any and all subsequent editions of No.5. I distinctly and fondly recall the No.5 Elixir Sensuelle which boosted the soapier smelling and muskier elements to render a less faithful but still sexy-as-hell body gel. It encapsulated what Coco Chanel herself had meant for No.5 to symbolize: a clean woman that wasn't at odds with her natural scent. The idea that women could be both sexy and not dirty. After all, her inspiration was a famous cocotte friend who smelled "clean", contrary to society women of the times "who smelled dirty" according to the French designer herself. 

The logical extension could only be manifested in something like Chanel No.5 Eau Première. Indeed praised by almost everyone in the industry for adhering to the original concept, without deviating too much, and at the same time bringing forth a new sensibility, Eau Première was critically praised by critics and bloggers, as well as connoisseur wearers only to be daunted at the fragrance counter by a relative indifference in its modern message. Eau Première, fabulous though it was, couldn't address the needs and wants of a youthful audience who knew No.5 from its legendary course and urban fashion clout, but did not feel confident in pulling it off in real time.

Unlike many, maybe even most, flankers by Chanel, such as Coco Mademoiselle and Coco Noir (extending and renewing the fragrance concept of Coco Eau de Parfum), which had little relation to their predecessor, No.5  l'Eau inherited enough of the original's nucleus to serve as a valid reimagining on the original idea.

Related reading on PerfumeShrine:

Coco by Chanel: fragrance review

Chanel No.19 & Heure Exquise: Twin Peaks

On Classifying Chanel No.19 & perfume review 

What's the True Story of Chanel No.5?

Cultural history: Exposition Chanel

Chanel No.5 Through the Years

Chanel No.46: fragrance review & history

I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire: Imaginative Fantasies

Chanel Les Exclusifs Misia: fragrance review [And a collective Chanel Les Exclusifs link.]

Diptyque Fleur de Peau: fragrance review

The Diptyque story began in 1961 Paris at 34 Boulevard Saint-Germain with, at its heart, three friends driven by the same creative passion, who chose a Greek word which means a dual panel painting. Illustration was the very core of the founders, as Christiane Gautrot was an interior designer, Desmond Knox-Leet, a painter, and Yves Coueslant, a theater director and set designer. From then on, inspired by their Hellenic treks along the Greek peninsula and its mountainous terrain, and from their country cottage on the picturesque Mount Pelion, buried amidst thick fig trees all the way down the sea front, they launched several classics, from Virgilio to Philosykos. 

But the brand also presents a later day constellation of contemporary stars, like Eau Duelle and 34 Boulevard St.Germain. Picking just one is an Herculean task. The most sensual in the current rotation however is an easy choice. None other than Fleur de Peau. 

 Fleur de Peau relies on that rarity of the "musky idea": it harnesses the vegetal musks from angelica archangelica and ambrette seed oil, flanking them with ambrettolide, a macrocyclic musk which shares properties with ambrette seed and aids diffusion and lasting power. Thus the somewhat nutty, with a hint of berry, slightly sweaty and oddly metallic fusion of the properties in those fine musks gains the upper hand and makes Fleur de Peau very sensuous. 

Backed up with classic starchy iris, and carrot seed, which aids the earthy, starchy effect, it creates a cocoon of scent on the skin; it's as if the Platonic idea of sensuality has landed on our shores. The delicacy of vegetal musk with the central chord of pink pepper and rose recalls the refinement of Les Exclusifs de Chanel No 18 Chanel, and Musc Nomade Annick Goutal, two other fragrances with ambrette seed oil tucked into their heart of hearts. A quiet sensuality that does not plunge its décolleté low.

 

Fleur de Peau is soft, tenacious, with a discreet but perceptible sillage, radiant and glorious indeed. One of the better launches by Diptyque in recent years.

Chanel Les Exclusifs Boy: fragrance review

It's hard to go wrong with an aromatic fougere; men have been conditioned to opt for them and women to respond to them as "the natural scent of men" since at least the end of the 19th century when Jicky by Guerlain became the first to make an impact. Lavender and musk plus a spattering of sweeter notes is the basic recipe but each maker gives them their spin.

Chanel made Boy (after "Boy" Capel, a lover of Coco's) in their boutique range Les Exclusifs to appeal to those men who want that steadfast tradition in a sleek modern bottle and who don't mind a bit of a retro touch. This is what perfumer Olivier Polge (son of Jacques who was head perfumer for 3 decades) envisioned I'm sure.

What I smell distinctly after the top note of sharpness is the heliotrope and tonka which give a slight effect of marzipan paste; they elevate lavender from the usually medicinal territory into something softer and cuddlier. Hard to find this not fitting any occasion, casual, office or night out.

A Special Homage: Coco Chanel

Today would have been Coco Chanel's birthday, had she been around and withstanding the scrutiny for her infamous past. No matter what anyone has to say about the lady herself and her tumultous personal life, her enduring style has really changed the way we see fashion and how women dress themselves. That's you see the advantage of avant-garde; making history.

via

Chanel's characteristic use of jersey fabric, pants for women, that do not resemble the harem, the trademark quilted handbags, two-toned pumps, pearls and costume jewelry, the freedom of fluidity & movement in her jackets, the stark usefulness of neutral colors such as beige, white, black and navy and her philosophy of function vs. decoration have made Chanel an icon of the 20th century and a true liberator of women from the constrictive garments of La Belle Epoque. We owe her that much.

Her fragrances of course couldn't but follow her unerring sense of style. The famous Chanel no.5 was followed by many others, notably No.19 commemorating her birthday on August 19th. This is what I am wearing myself today, reveling in both its sharp galbanum and vetiver cutting through the humidity (thick like it could be cut with a knife) and luxurious enough with its orris background.

So in her own honor, please find some related articles of mine on her style, beauty advice, iconography and of course perfumes.
And please share your own experiences with Chanel beauty & perfumes in the comments!

Coco by Chanel: fragrance review

Chanel No.19 & Heure Exquise: Twin Peaks

On Classifying Chanel No.19 & perfume review 

What's the True Story of Chanel No.5?

Cultural history: Exposition Chanel

Chanel No.5 Through the Years

Chanel No.46: fragrance review & history

I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire: Imaginative Fantasies

Chanel Les Exclusifs Misia: fragrance review [And a collective Chanel Les Exclusifs link.]

Chanel Les Exclusifs Misia: fragrance review

Few toiletry indulgences feel more decadently feminine than owning a fine goose down puff for applying face or body powder. Few rituals feel more delicately ballet-like in their choreographed sequence than the traditional powdering of the body, fresh out of a bath, using said goose down puff with small pat pat pat motions that are as close to caresses as they are to little slaps, both erotic provenance of the demi-mondaines of another time. Misia the fragrance encapsulates in liquid form this graceful dance in Chanel's 15th Les Exclusifs perfume launch, redolent of the retro makeup scents of yesterday.

Emanuelle Beart in Le Temps Retrouvé by Raoul Ruiz via

Chanel via its new head perfumer, Olivier Polge, son of Jacques, only the fourth perfumer in the revered history of the French brand, bows to Guerlain's Après L'Ondée; a composition from the first years of the 20th century based on the ethereal marriage of heliotrope, violet and iris. Yet Chanel's Misia, like the eponymous lady friend of Gabrielle Chanel's it was named after, holds its own ground as well, an outstanding entry for Polge junior regardless of the trodden course. 

Olivier Polge may have excelled in Dior Homme previously, exploring the cocoa dust facets of the iris note in a men's scent, but it is in this feminine composition that he propels the retro facets of iris in their logical apogee, somewhere between the retro cool powder of Love Chloe and the earthy dustiness of Norma by Histoires de Parfums.  The "lipstick note" is after all its own perfumery meme, swirling its tutu years ago with Drole de Rose by L'Artisan Parfumeur and stomping its foot down naming names in Lipstick Rose in the Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle line. (Even Guerlain revisits their own themes, what with Meteorites limited edition fragrance and now with French Kiss.) Chanel's lipsticks account for a huge segment of the brand, so walking down that road felt like a given.

After all, Polge Junior has something of the Midas touch in him; count with me: Flowerbomb, La Vie Est Belle, Mon Jasmin Noir, Burberry The Beat...

The intensely powdery, starchy cloud of orris (the dried rhizome of iris flowers) is at the very heart of Misia with very perceptible cool, sweet violets for "lipstick" (α methyl ionone); in fact the very scent of proper, ladylike lipsticks with their violet-rose aura which separates the teens from the grown ups. While Misia starts with a bittersweet top note reminiscent of time-honored perfumery aubepine-heliotropin chord, the heart of the fragrance is pure cosmetic impression, an archetype of grooming and of la salonnière. Polge used both rose of Grasse and Bulgarian Damask rose for the floral component and a cluster of benzoin resin (caramelic, vanilla plush), tonka beans (hay and almond like) and modern musks for the downy soft drydown.

“I thought of the Palais Garnier in the days of the Ballets Russes: pearls and aigrettes in the women’s hair melding with the scent of red-tinted lips; the sound of musicians tuning their instruments; and the dancers wearing make-up from head-to-toe, warming up behind red velvet curtains. I thought of how to interpret lipstick and powders into a perfume and decided to use violet dressed with rose de Mai and Turkish rose, which trigger memories of lipstick, while the benzoin I added creates a powdery effect, like make-up. It’s very feminine and floral but it’s also sumptuous. The strong violet accord is a new ingredient in the grammar of Chanel”  reveals Polge to Lucia van der Post.

It was Polish muse Misia Sert, née Maria Sofia Olga Zenajda Godebska, a Belle Epoque fixture and the subject of many a Renoir and Bonnard painting, who introduced Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel to many of her subsequent fixtures; Venice, baroque, Les Ballets Russes, Paul Reverdy...
She was also the confidant to whom Chanel poured her heart out to when the latter lost her first true love, Arthur "Boy" Capel, to a car crash.

In a way Misia the fragrance aims to be as emblematic and prophetic of great things ahead as Misia the muse was to Chanel's career. May it prove so!

Chanel Les Exclusifs Misia eau de toilette is offered in 75ml and 200ml bottles with magnetic closure, same as the rest of boutique exclusive Les Exclusifs perfumes.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: 
Best Violet fragrances guide
Powdery & Dry Perfumes
Parfums Lingerie: intimate femininity

Le Labo Cuir 28 (Dubai exclusive): fragrance appreciation reprisal

Far from the crowd pleasing orientalism of Benjoin 19 (Le Labo's Moscow "city exclusive") which I had reviewed for Fragrantica last autumn, Cuir 28 by Le Labo reprises some of the butcher elements of the great leather perfumes tradition and marries them to a woody-peppery chord with unisex appeal. This brings it at a no man's land of leather scents, as it doesn't fit the mold of any category really; is it like Bandit (Piguet), Cabochard (Gres), Cuir de Russie (Chanel), Cuir de Lancome, John Varvatos Vintage, Tuscan Leather (Tom Ford), Bel Ami (Hermes) etc etc? It's like none of these things.

Phenols (tar-like notes resembling melting asphalt) resurface in Cuir 28 as a leathery note aspect on top; agressive and oozing with bitumen, the "cuir" note in Cuir 28 is unpresentable, tough and butch, probably an echo of Parchouli 24 which also presents an odd and visceral experience, especially if you're an acolyte of the school of sweet orientalized "suede" leather scents. The hardcore leather bar crowd however should find it eminently intriguing due to this very reason, although a bit of vanilla does surface later on; a respite of human affection after the hate fuck.

The fragrance segues into a iris-peppery combination that makes for the prolonged elegance of Chanel Les Exclusifs 31 Rue Cambon, diverging into two slices in the Le Labo creation, a still dry and with hints of vetiver earthiness medley that feels like a different person has walked into the room. The two slices do not meet in the pie and remain sort of disjointed throughout, which produces an odd but trippy experience for the wearer; in a way it's probably a test of whether you'll have your perfumista card revoked: do you have the patience to discover the unfolding?

The final phase of Cuir 28 comes through a hint of musky vanilla that tries to efface the butch factor of the top note, small comfort for the wild ride. For the full review please consult this link on Fragrantica.

Though a Dubai exclusive (Le Labo reserves some of its fragrances for city-specific distribution only resulting in the City Exclusive) for the month of September 2014 ONLY Cuir 28 can be found online at the official Le Labo site and Luckyscent. (I had been able to review this thanks to a generous procurer of the sample; you know who you are, thanks)

Le Labo Aldehyde 44: fragrance review

The aliphatic aldehydes string of Chanel No.5 is what is termed "aldehydic" in perfumery parlance and characterises a whole sub-group within the floral fragrance family: C10, C11, C12 aldehydes to be exact, creating an accord so memorable it has pervaded fragrance mores for decades. [If you don't know what aldehydes are, refer to this article]. Le Labo's take in Aldehyde 44 is more inspired by the sweeter, soapier, more snowy-capped mountains seen flying above in lesser known (and more American-geared) Godzilla-aldehydic Chanel No.22 and equally American "sharp clean" White Linen by Estee Lauder than muskier-sexier-dirtier (aka Frenchier) No.5 however. Perhaps the fact that it's a Dallas,TX city-exclusive (only Dallas inhabitants and visitors of the city's Le Labo boutique at Barneys can partake of the sprakling waters!) is not totally random as imagined.This is a clean, rested, posh fragrance; depilated, smoothed and hosed and full of energy, not languor.

The opening in the Le Labo fragrance is so old-fashioned elegant and prim in its sharp biting "sparkle", with its citrusy-waxy fat top note, you will be doing a double take to see whether you have been magically transported back to 1955 and wearing a whale-boned petticoat under your skirt. But the perfume is modern, in more ways than one.
The progression is seamless and sustainaibly sour aldehydic into a somewhat metallic musky floralcy in the base, without either too much sweetness or woodiness (The idea of musk at Le Labo can be perversely illusionary anyway, as attested in Musc 25. Perfumer Yann Vasnier is using ambrettolide here in Aldehyde 44, which is a macrocyclic musk, very refined, soapy smelling-fruity in character).
What is characteristic is there is no powderiness in Aldehyde 44, as associated with other retro fragrances that utilize irones and ionones (iris and violets) to denote cosmetic products and old-school face powder. Instead it's citrusy waxy-soapy-fatty, it makes me think it's what an hypothetical child between Ivoire by Balmain and White Linen would be like: the green sudsy oiliness of the former meets the fatty sweetness of the latter, the rosy facets taking on a peppery bite with lots of buds' green, a hint of pear fruit in there too.

If you read that Aldehyde 44 contains woods and vanilla and imagine a comforting scent, you will are in for a nasty surprise: the woods only come from the C12 aldehyde (a pollen-rooty, lilac scent) and the silvery refracting amber synthetic; while the citrusy touches are reminiscent of bitterish, tangy orange rind (which has a resinous quality, not unlike some incense blends) and not marmelade. The floral notes cannot be taken apart, it's an abstract blend where no note rises above the rest. Aldehyde 44 possesses "sweetness" of another kind altogether and it can only be compared to that encountered in No.22 (especially in its less incense-y modern incarnation as part of Les Exclusifs in Eau de toilette) or the classic Lauder referenced above. The sillage is civilized, but definitely there, and the lasting power very good. Lovers of the elegant polished genre, rejoice, this is a well-crafted example; perhaps not totally necessitating the ouchy price-tag nevertheless.

The offficial Le Labo presentation states: "Aldehyde 44 is a small wonder that sits tight between an aldehyde overdose, that gives this scent a unique cleanliness to it, a sublime floral composition that is built around Naracissus, Jasmin, and Tuberose (all Absolute in case you wandered), and a bed of muscs tied with a hint of vanilla. The result is esthetically admirable and unique".

Aldehyde 44 by Le Labo features fragrance notes of: aldehydes, tuberose absolute, jasmine sambac, narcissus absolute, woods, vanilla and musk.

Le Labo Aldehyde 44 is a Dallas, TX city-exclusive, retailing at $290 for 50ml, but only for the month of November it is globally available at Luckyscent and on the official Le Labo site.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:  Le Labo reviews & news , Aldehydes: what they are, how do they smell, where do they shine, Aldehydic fragrances

photo of Cyd Charisse

Chanel No.19 Poudre: fragrance review

~by guest writer AlbertCAN

Of all the people in the world I would have never guessed that I would be one of the first to write a full review about Chanel No. 19 Poudré, one of the two latest introductions from the fabled house. In fact even if the spirit of Coco Chanel told me this morning I would not have believed it, for all signs pointed to an uneventful day.

Yet life has a way of stringing the impossible, isn’t it? I had to take a photo with my personal belongings otherwise nobody, including myself, would have thought of it.

August 4th was my day off, the unorthodox result of my manager’s scheduling so I could work Monday to Saturday. This Thursday was meant to be routine—errands in the morning, fitness workout in the afternoon, early retirement by night in preparation of the early shift tomorrow.

Except I found out in the evening that I had to cast my ballot an important provincial tax referendum by tonight else I would have missed the opportunity altogether, with the nearest voting station at a local mall about 15 minute drive from my house. Nothing chic has been discovered in that toy plaza since the arrival of Givenchy Amarige d’Amour, as I uttered to myself when I pulled out of my driveway.

The voting station was everything I loath, being a stone throw away from Walmart and the Hello Kitty concession stand, right next to the mall’s washroom. By the time I drop off my vote, after being asked to triple seal my ballot with three distinct envelopes I was just ready to leave. But then I remembered that one of my fragrances was about to run out, and not wanting to waste too much of my time I marshalled myself to The Hudson’s Bay Company, our historic—albeit slightly paunchy and tired by now—national department store monument. Move along, I said to myself, just get on with it.

The fragrance section of the HBC on a Thursday evening was nothing to behold: Sales staff three people strong, all manning multiple stations and sounding a bit inexperienced when interacting with other clients. With my look of death they left me alone after 10 seconds.

That’s when I bumped into a big display stand of Chanel No. 19 Poudré.

I did a double take and quickly scanned the store’s Chanel inventory. Not a bottle of No. 19 in sight, and only the display of the new edition available: 2 bottles of 100mL Chanel No. 19 Poudré eau de parfum. The most seasoned Chanel reps, even account managers, couldn’t tell me weeks ago when their supplies of Chanel No. 19 Poudré would come to the Vancouver flagship store. Now I was face to face with two bottles in the local mall, with associates not even knowing a thing about it. (“I think it’s a limited edition*,” the poor lady said as she carefully surveyed the shelves, “Two is all we have.” *editor's note: Chanel No. 19 Poudré is inteded as a regular diffusion to the original line and not as a limited edition)

I quickly grabbed the tester and gave it a test run. Now, having read all the information from Perfume Shrine (here and here) I knew what to expect: Beautiful orris absolute, soft and buttery sheer. Much more delicate than the original, and with the icy zing of galbanum now in tender check. I’ll take one, as I quickly pulled out my credit card. I walked out of the store a happy man. The story, however, had just begun.

While my initial impression of the scent stays true on the blotter--for up to three days I find-- on the skin is a slightly different story. About 10 minutes after the initial testing the orris absolute, so prominently featured in Chanel’s Les Exclusifs line (most notably 28 La Pausa and No. 18) started to soft focus: the delicate floral initially pinning in the background started came to fore, and on my way home one thing was becoming very clear—the orris absolute gave way to a suede musk, bolstered by a synthetic iris, which was what I got for the rest of the three hours. It’s still going softly but surely, actually.

Now I would be inclined to say that the musk element feels like a natural progression from Chance Eau Tendre, but to be honest the woody-musk drydown is very much a thoughtful rendition of the original No. 19 elements, most notably the pronounced woods within the eau de toilette version without the oakmoss presence. In fact that’s the ironic arch about the structure of the new fragrance: I had the eau de toilette of the original and the new one side by side on each arm and they are essentially the same breed. The biggest difference among the two would be the green and the floral facets—in No. 19 Poudré the rose and jasmine absolutes are decidedly not present, and neither was galbanum taking a cut in the new version. What makes the original so interesting (and so difficult to sink into at first try) is that hit-your-face-like-ice-blade freshness only the finest galbanum from Iran could do (anything less would conjure a hint of garlic from the inferior grade). The new version, in short, feels almost like a summery of the old in a more updated language, albeit a bit hollowed out in the centre to usher in an iris-musk sillage.

Thus am I disappointed? Far from it: I know this is going to surely reach a new generation and an entirely novel set of audience, most notably the American and the Asian audiances. In fact the entire artistic creation is right on the money, from the bottle to the juice. Even the image, albeit a bit on the forgettable side, is well integrated into the target image.

The original No. 19, to begin, is truly one of the priciest formula in the original Chanel archive, with the finished compound costing around 1800 Euros (the exactly figure from Chandler Burr’s A Perfect Scent eludes me at the moment). Yet it continues to be a tough sell in the States with its cashmere opening and independent development. When looking at the formula, most notably the original eau de toilette, one notices the genius of Henri Robert by pairing the warmth with the cold, the sunny cis-3-hexanol salicylate and hedione with the severity of iris, the crisp neroli with the sensual woody chypre. Carefully beaded verdant crystals on top of premium silver penne velvet, breath-taking but not for everyone. So if the new edition could help breaking people into the masterpiece, well, why not? Yes and no.

I don’t question the Chanel perfumers’ desire to stay true to the spirit of Coco Chanel, and I don’t question the quality of iris at the beginning of the fragrance (I have several commercial orris blends in stock, and after smelling them along side the latest Chanel it was pretty obvious that some synthetics, most notably the tea-like alpha-isomethyl ionone, is paired with the orris absolute). Yet I wish the sillage could be a bit more varied and nuanced, a bit more imagination on top of modernizing the tradition: Wouldn't it breath-taking to dazzle us, Monsieur Jacques Polge, by pairing galbanum with a beautiful green element not available at Coco Chanel's time, such as the Michelia alba leaves extract? (Come to think of it: Why not? Wouldn't the high priestess of innovation appove when it's brilliantly done? ) And the white floral facet: well, pretty—I can feel the lily of the valley hovering in the background with the use of hydroxycitronnellal—but all this makes me yearn for the original so much more. So we have anther version of No. 19 that’s not for everyone, this time in a different context.

On the other hand the new No. 19 is quite versatile, not only accommodating for different events but also as a layering base for the original parfum in order to amplify the iris in an interesting way. And as I have alluded to earlier in this article, the verdant fragrance can potentially be used as a masculine for some dandies. In fact I look forward to pairing this with a few drops of my 15mL parfum (which works surprisingly well as a masculine, by the way). By the same token, on the other hand, best to test the fragrance before purchasing a full bottle, as unlike the traditional No. 19 line what's on the blotter may or may not be what you get on your skin, as the case to me.

Chanel No. 19 Poudré is a green floral and was developed by Chanel house perfumer Jacques Polge: The notes of Chanel No. 19 Poudré include neroli, galbanum, jasmine, iris, white musk, vetiver and tonka bean. I sampled the 100mL Eau de Parfum tester, both on paper and on skin. I purchased a bottle, although I haven’t opened it yet. It’s out in the market, although at the moment availability varies depending on geographical regions.

photo of bottle in box, copyright by AlbertCAN

Chanel to Launch Les Exclusifs Jersey & Chanel No.19 Poudre flanker

It was a matter of being due at Chanel: Chanel No.19 is such a revered classic (and a very popular mature woman choice in my country) that it would be a misstep not to exploit this by rendering a new flanker, aimed at the younger audiences who might be introduced to the brand of No.19 via that gateway.
Enter No.19 Poudré, the latest mainstream fragrance by Chanel, as revealed in a lengthy interview by Jacques Polge on Women's Wear Daily, which will hit the stores in the summer of 2011.

The composition, much like Cristalle Eau Verte did for Cristalle and Eau Premiere did for No.5, will highlight the lighter, more diaphanous elements in the formula, with the lately popular veil of modernised, sheer powder accord (as in Love,Chloé and Esprit d'Oscar). The powdery effect will be rendered through novel musks plus iris, an already major component of the classic No.19. According to veteran perfumer Jacques Polge who is only the third head perfumer for Chanel, since 1978:

"We've found some new musks that are very interesting, and we're working a lot at the moment on iris, which is a very important ingredient in No.19 Poudré. We have our plantations in Grasse, with rose and jasmine, and we're trying to find new qualities in those. But we're also trying to reproduce what was done 40 years ago, that nobody does anymore".

Other ingredients featured prominently in No.19 Poudré besides iris and musk are jasmine and neroli. The concentration is Eau de Parfum, as shown on the bottle.

My personal view on the new flanker launch? It's dubious whether classicists will be pleased by the new No.19 flanker, but it does sound like it will be heavy on those "novel" musks and iris (probably boosted by synth alternatives as well) to project at a powdery pitch. Powdery is a new trend in the market which would have fans of the older version (I'm one of them) not too mad at the new.
Who knows? A flanker usually means the continuation of a brand: I would like to see the No.19 brand going rather than being left behind in the wake of more popular things.

As to Jersey, it is the name of the upcoming Chanel Les Exclusifs, joining Beige, Sycomore, 31 Rue Cambon, 28 La Pausa, Coromandel, Eau de Cologne, Bel Respiro, No.18, Bois des Iles, Cuir de Russie, Gardenia and No.22. [links open up reviews of respective scents]. The name had been trademarked a long while ago, as we rgularly predict trends on these pages based on that, and it remains to be seen what treatment the masterminds of Jacques Polges and Chris Sheldrake are envisioning this emblematic fabric of Coco Chanel ~which made her famous (and infamous)~ will translate into. Referencing couture through fragrance is not unknown to Chanel. If we're allowed a little deliberation, a white floral is missing from the Exclusifs line. Or specifically a magnolia, one of the latest notes du jour, begging for a luxury spin.
Edit to add: Preliminary testing suggests Chanel Les Exclusifs Jersey is a clean fragrance with notes of lavender, vanilla and white musks. We will update with a full review.

Release dates for Chanel No.19 Poudré are 1st of June for London (on preview at Selfridges) and 15 days later for the rest of the UK and Europe, available at major department stores.
Chanes Les Exclusifs Jersey will hit stores in autumn 2011 as part of the Chanel boutiques circuit and online at the US store.

thanks to AlbertCA for bringing this to my attention, pic via Grazia scan online

Chanel Gardenia vintage vs. modern Les Exclusifs Gardenia: fragrance review & history

The original Gardénia, issued by Chanel in 1925 and composed by legendary perfumer Ernest Beaux who created all the early opi/opera of Chanel, was built on a fashion premise: The deco motifs of the 1920s exalted the almost cubist arrangement of flower petals, resulting in designs which were transported into impressive jewellery. Gardénia was not conceived as, nor was it meant to be, a gardenia soliflore, although the heavy-smelling blossom was picked thanks to its optical resemblance to Mademoiselle Chanel's favourite flower: the camelia, which doesn't hold a scent. The name in reality derives from the English word "garden" (it's jardin in French): a popular reference of the times, especially if we recall the Shalimar story and the gardens of Lahore that made the imagination run wild. That was then.

But gardenia fragrances in particular re-entered the consciousness of the public with a vengeance in the next decade, the 1930s, in a different manner. This was a time of financial difficulties and a more conservative cultural milieu, when every company was launching or re-issuing their own gardenia fragrance; advertising them as a return to neo-romanticism, the gardenia boutonnières of Edwardian dandies and the gardens in the South of France which provided welcome escapism. Indeed an American advertisement for Chanel Gardénia mentions how it's meant to evoke romantic gardens at the Riviera and tags it as a youthful fragrance. [Chanel is no stranger to capitalizing on advertising to promote specific perceptions of their products, as it famously did with No.5.]
It was 1936 after all when the hit song "These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)" by Eric Maschwitz & Jack Starchey included the infamous lyric "gardenia perfume lingering on a pillow"...alongside "an airplane ticket to romantic places". Is it any wonder that in the economically "tough" decade of the 1970s Brian Ferry & Roxy Music chose to bring this song back doing their own cover on it (1973)? Chanel would eventually bring their Gardénia back from the dead too; but almost two decades later. And as recently as the end of the 2000s yet again, this time in their boutique line Les Exclusifs where's it's still available.

Olfactorily, the two versions cannot be any more different, providing a valuable history lesson for any inquisitive perfume lover:

The vintage Chanel Gardénia was composed on a narcissus base with a green accent of styrallyl acetate; a freshly green note, naturally present in budding gardenias and a very popular inclusion in many classic floral chypres: It provides the gardenia greeness in the heart which compliments the mossiness of the background, from Miss Dior to Ma Griffe. The trick of composing a "gardenia chord" instead of using an extract from nature was necessitated by technical complications: No essence could be rendered (till very, very recently in fact and then only in some extremely limited distribution niche fragrances). The gardenia in the hands of Chanel is oscillating between green and creamy, as it's allied to other white florals with a powdery veil.
The top note of the vintage Gardénia however is surprising in that it's built on a violet accent, composed through octin and heptin methyl carbonate. The progression from the sweeter violet to the feminine floral harmony in the heart, featuring natural jasmine, makes for a rounder experience with woodier base notes recalling those in Chanel's own Bois des Îles or even Coty's Imprevu, with a spicy whiff of vetiver lingering.
The vintage came in extrait de parfum (a very round and feminine smell) and later Eau de Toilette in the standard square bottles with the round black screw-on cap. Opening one, made me realise how different the perceptions of a floral were in those eras back contrasted with today: Although I can feel the delicate rendering of petals, there is no immediate "department-store atmosphere" of a hundred florals sprayed simultaneously into the air. Drop by drop, it's silky and polished, like a strand of patina rose pearls in slightly differing diameter.

The original version of Gardenia circulated well into the 1950s, but it disappeared at some point when other Chanel fragrances such as No.19 and Cristalle entered the scene. Sometimes the labels did not have the French accent aigu for the American market.
An effort was made to bring it back alongside the more faithfully rendered classics Cuir de Russie and Bois des Iles in the Chanel "Rue Cambon" exclusive boutique circuit at the cusp of the 1990s: Regrettably, it was the least resistant link in the chain, accounting for a rather destitute white floral. The bottle in extrait was rectangular with a white label like standard Chanel extraits (depicted) and the colour of the juice a light yellow. There was also a limited edition Eau de Toilette in a rectangular bottle edged in gold, with white label and white cap in the 1990s (shown on the right).




The modern version of Gardénia as part of Chanel Les Exclusifs more upscale line, reworked by Jacques Polge, conforms to the latest regulations and changing tastes. Thus it is comparatively much thinner, stretched to its limit, based on a standard white floral chord with fresh & green jasmine/hedione, "clean" orange blossom cologne-ish notes and just a smidgen of tuberose (and absolutely no gardenia whatsoever). A delicate vanilla base is the only other detectable note, very light and soft without much sweetness. The fragrance's popularity and reception is no doubt accounted by its transparent and easy demeanor which lends itself easily to any wearer. There is a young, ice-princess vibe about it, rather classy in its sex-denying way.

It leaves something to be desired in fulfilling a powerful romantic imagery and rather much in providing an avant-garde entry in the field of white florals (which it could have tried if it wanted to); but its wearability provides options for casual & office wearing, which is more than can be said for some of the more sumptuous and demanding vintages. Among Les Exclusifs, in Eau de Toilette concentration with an even paler colour of juice than before, Gardénia is also one of the most fleeting, making for a brief experience that needs to be constantly renewed.

Notes for Chanel Gardénia: jasmine, gardenia, orange blossom, tuberose, clove, sage, pimento, musk, patchouli, sandalwood and vetiver.


Ella Fitzerald sings These Foolish Things


And Brian Ferry reprises it in his own innimitable style in a rare 1974 video.

pic of vintage parfum via musclecars.net. Ebay & stock bottle photos. Pearl necklace & gardenia extrait bottle via the Romantic Query Letter.

Trick or Treat? Top Autumn Fragrances for Any Mood

Which mood is more you? The playful trickster, barefoot and hell-bent on playing mischief to placate the evil Halloween spirits or the mellow pacifist stuffing the mouth with calorific indulgences and the contended smile of "all's good"? Or you can be both, depending on how your day is going. Fragrances can be like that too, you know!
There are scents which are comforting, snuggly like an old favourite jumper when the sky is uninviting, first thing in the morning, and the temperatures are plummeting; a fragrance which smiles at you from within its heavy glass with the sweetness of a kid on a Hallmark card. And there are scents which are devilishly playing tricks on you, requiring that you have either the right attitude or the right weather conditions or the just right outfit (and possibly makeup and jewellery too!) in order to bring out their best; if they want to! But oh, when they do...The latter category might seem like they're ultimately a pain in the butt to have around (what if you look at them in a certain way and they crack from side to side?), but so often they form some of the most satisfying fragrances we possess in our wardrobe. The former... well, they are our fall-back-upon scents and in times like this, this is kinda precious too, don't you agree?
So here is our small selection of "Tricksters and Treaters". Feel free to add yours in the comments!

• THE TRICKSTERS

À Travers le Miroir by Thierry Mugler
A strange tuberose, half-way between carnivorous mentholated flower with bitter touches (reminiscent of a herbal autumn garden) and decaying sweet flesh; yet rather light, if you can imagine that! If you're a man and always wanted to own a tuberose fragrance but found them too Fracas-shouting femme, then this is your bet. Alexis Dadier must be a brave perfumer since he shed tuberose of its black lingerie & berry lipstick to reveal its muscled up (hold the baby oil!) facets. A tuberose of the Tubéreuse Criminelle school of thought!

La Myrrhe by Serge Lutens
Myrrh gum is part of ecclesiastical incense alongside frankincense for millenia. You would expect an oriental, full of resinous mystery, going by the name, right? Lutens goes one better and infuses the bitter ambience of myrrh with candied mandarin rind and citrusy aldehydes which bring this on the upper plane of an airy aldehydic. Somehow it wears lightly but solemnly too and it resembles nothing else on the market. Cool autumn days bring La Myrrhe's attibutes to the fore and it remains amongst my most precious possessions.

Aromatics Elixir by Clinique
It's hard to picture autumn without the imagery of a forest in full regalia, evergreens gaining inches day by day, sepia foliage being trampled underfoot and the promise of fairies in the wings; sorry, behind the mighty oaks, I meant to say... The enchanted forest scentscape of Bernand Chant's masterpiece is among the most challenging, but also among the most complimented and revered, fragrances in the world. If you find difficult to tame this patchouli, rose & oakmoss Godzilla accord in the pure parfum spray, tone it down opting for the Eau de Toilette or Velvet Sheer formulation within the range. Review of Aromatics Elixir on this page and smell-alike on that one.

No.18 by Chanel Les Exclusifs
If you're lucky enough to have this ambrette and rose blend sing on your skin, you're very fortunate. I wish it did on mine and in my memory banks as well. It's probably among the most individual things to come out in the last 10 years and it's quite unique (Although Musc Nomade isn't too far removed in its concept, but the Chanel is more of a subtle perfume than an invisible human aura like the Goutal). Review of No.18 here.

Les Larmes Sacrées de Thèbes by Baccarat
If only because this discontinued limited edition Egyptian beauty will have you scouring the Internet for it but end up paying through the nose (Masochists, please take note! I actually managed to bypass this at a Baccarat boutique when it was available commercially). Somnombulent balsams speek of Egyptian rituals which transport you to a warmer, southern meridian. (Read reviews of all three Baccarat scents for the occasion on this link)



• THE TREATERS

Doblis by Hermès
Doblis is an anomaly: Such a refined composition, the best leather fragrance in the world (and the rarest) just can't be classified in the treaters, where sweet ambers and indulgent gourmands should populate the premises, could it? And yet, Doblis is so silken, so restrained, so smooth, fanning precious flowers onto the most buttery suede, that it transcends into the beatific ecstacy reserved for true excellence. Review of Doblis on this page.

Like This by Etat Libre d'Orange
And the anomalies continue: What is an Etat Libre scent doing in this side of the list? But its welcoming spicy notes of immortelle and ginger and its succulent pumpkin and mandarin heart, set nevertheless in an interesting diorama where one supercedes the other, Like This reads like wise verse by Rumi instead of a Dear Abby column as one would expect; and on top of that it is fronted by the most interesting celebrity to front a fragrance in the last -oh- twenty years...Tilda Swinton! More info on this link.

Shalimar Ode à la Vanille by Guerlain
The smoothness and delicacy of vanilla pods, air-spun here and with a prolonged and rather linear, easy projection of citrus and familiar core. Impossible not to like, impossible to misbehave. More info on this article.

Bois et Musc by Serge Lutens
Autumn can't be autumn without the evocation of woods and this small gem in the Palais Royal Parisian exclusive line by Lutens fulfills the bill admirably, because it highlights both the woody panel of cedar and the skinscent idea of a humane-smelling musk. Simple but very effective and drop-dead sexy. Review of Bois et Musc here.

Coromandel by Chanel Les Exclusifs
Dusty cocoa and refined patchouli to the point that it reads as devoré velvet in shades of deep maroon. Justifiably it's the best-seller in the newer Les Exclusifs (alongside less character-driven, more camel coat & low pumps scent of Beige). Review of Coromandel here.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Comforting scents for when the Going Gets Tough, Falling in Love: Scents & Treats for Fall

Photography by Fred Boissonas in early 20th century Greece: a) Edessa 1908 and b) Kastoria Kleisoura manor 1911.

Guerlain Cologne du Parfumeur: fragrance review & draw

If we lamented the course of Chanel the other day, today is Guerlain's par for the course. Although I am a fervent fan of the house and have worn almost everything ever produced with pleasure and reflective appreciation over the years, I can't warm too much towards the latest Cologne du Parfumeur, especially after the very good and very "Guerlain-feeling" Tonka Impériale which had produced a coup de foudre.
Cologne du Parfumeur comes as the latest installment in the Eaux de Cologne line of classic eaux by Guerlain and the delineating of a continuing tradition is at the heart of the launch's philosophy with a refurbishing of the bee bottles to bear the names of the perfumers who composed each of them: Following in the footsteps of L’Eau de Cologne du Coq (1894), L’Eau de Cologne Impériale (1853) and L’Eau de Fleurs de Cedrat (1920), in 2010, Thierry Wasser presents ‘Cologne du Parfumeur’, issued in May 2010, a creation that Thierry admits having originally thought of for himself.

The key note is Calabrian orange blossom intertwined with other citrus fruit. Yet this fairly classic accord also has a ‘modern twist’ thanks to green, musky and sweet facets. The designer acknowledges that it can be worn alone or layered with your usual scent (and I can totally see the latter). The practice of hereby chronicling the heritage of the house by naming each successive perfumer on the eaux bottles themselves also indicates that the more cynical amidst the perfumeland ~who have been bemoaning the LVMH takeover as the cultural ruin of Guerlain for long~ are being heard. Possibly (but not conclusively) this is also a move to assuage the negativity of the Guerlain detractors being vocal on the Net.

The fragrance however removes itself from any traditional Eau de Cologne mould, injecting an opaline green rather than distinctly herbal/aromatic touch (a hint of rosemary instead of the fuller pungent lavender and bouquet de Provence) atop a very "clean" (not tart!) orange blossom (see Yves Rocher or Prada Infusion des Fleurs d'Oranger) and a pale woody musk at the base which produced a "white" effect. But whereas the dry feel of "vegetal" musks worked superbly (and daringly) in Hermes's Eau de Gentiane Blanche, evoking white washed rocks under a hot sky and staying bitterish and insolent, Guerlain's Cologne du Parfumeur feels pale and wane in comparison, too tame & behaved for a vegetal musk, whereas too subdued and sanitized for a Mediterranean cologne; and believe me, I grew up with the latter. Like the perfumer's country of origin, this is Switzerland among perfumes: Always neutral, never engaging in exalted passions, and sometimes reminding me of the very unfair ~yet perfectly witty~ criticism of Orson Welles: "In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder and bloodshed but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland, they had brotherly love; they had five hundred years of democracy and peace and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.”

But of course Thierry isn't to blame solely. Decisions are very rarely only taken in the lab! The cologne is perfectly unisex, undoubtedly pleasant, reminiscent of several familiar themes, but it doesn't really cut through the "white" gauzy net of eaux that flood the market currently, which is its major disadvantage.
Cologne du Parfumeur has average tenacity (not at all bad for a cologne) and subtle sillage, but ultimately it reinforces the idea of Guerlain's "Diorisation" after the take-over by LVMH, a plight which is not ultimately desirable by neither core fans of the brand, nor new audiences who can find catchier names and catchier marketing featured in glossies from other brands.
It is available from May 2010 on those Guerlain counters which carry the Eaux line in a redesigned bee bottle bearing a label with the perfumer's name on it.
Please note the moniker "Les Exclusifs" under the Guerlain name and funnily enough...the French definitive article before the name Cologne (i.e. La Cologne).

Notes for Guerlain Cologne du Parfumeur:
Citrus, Amalfi lemon, African orange blossom, rosemary, mint, lavender, musk.

I was honoured to be sent a generous preview decant from a very dear friend and in appreciation of their kind offer I am extending one sample to a lucky reader. State your interest in the comments! Draw will remain open till Wednesday 8th June midnight.

Read another view by Octavian. Illustration via getnouveau.com

Chanel Chance Eau Tendre: fragrance review

It's always a frightful day when a respected brand falls down from the skies into the puddles of stagnant water in the pedestrian crossing. The introduction might seem dramatic, but it is necessitated. Chanel has so far benefited from a lofty image, a steel-handed management thanks to the Wertheimer brothers and an in-house perfumer, Jacques Polge, who has steered the house into a more or less coherent direction for decades. But it seems that this course has lately diverted: The two flankers of Chance, Chance Eau Fraiche and now Chance Eau Tendre alongside a couple of forgettable masculines, show clearly that Chanel takes into consideration the market angle more than it is getting blame for.

In the case of Chance Eau Tendre the effect feels like dumping down, instead of modernizing an idea for a young audience; unlike the excellent No.5 Eau Premiere which took a classic and flew it into the ethers of poetic but approachable Elysium. In short, Chance Eau Tendre is only technically a well-crafted formula (good tenacity, plenty of sillage, coherent notes in unison) but artistically it's a plea to the lowest common denominator. And that's surprising from someone as skillful as Jacques Polge who clearly knows better, so it cannot be anything but a deliberate marketing decision from above.

A soapy fruity on a white musk base which recalls every similar major department store launch of the last coupe of seasons and in particular Daisy by Marc Jacobs. No offence to Daisy, but there is something seriously wrong when a Chanel fragrance starts smelling like Daisy. The fabric softener (on pale woods that read as non-descript) feel is especially in contrast to the haute ambience of other Chanels, even in their modern versions. There was a hint of a diversion when Beige by Chanel was launched in Les Exclusifs sub-line, its approachability and pastel-coloured smile easier and friendlier in its mien than other specimens. Yet whereas in Beige this worked due to the overall honeyed floral character and the suaveness of the hawthorn note which enveloped in a hug, in a fruity white musk composition any such intention falls flat and feels like an air-kiss at a social gathering of no greater importance than the pocketbook.

A pity...I wonder how well Chance Eau Tendre will sell, since similar smells can be had at a lower price. Then again, the whole axis of a luxury brand lies in selling even mediocre products just because they bear a prestigious name...

Might I remind you that the upcoming masculine is called Bleu de Chanel, scheduled for release in August 2010 with an international ad campaign shot by Scorcese as previously announced. As for the scent itself, according to the website RelaxNews, "it is fresh and woody, with notes of citrus, pink pepper, mint, ginger, jasmine, cedar and patchouli". [source]


A propos: L.Turin had said it best talking about brands: "To borrow terms first applied by 19th century journalist Walter Bagehot to the monarchy, brands have both an "effective" and a "dignified" function. [...] The dignified function is image: the buyer advertises his purchase to others.[..] That label, not the white baby sealskin bag to which it is attached, then gradually comes to mean "money". In other words, it becomes a currency. Once you have a currency, you can do lots of fun things with it. You can debase it (real Vuitton bags); you can counterfeit it (fake Vuitton bags); but best of all you can play on the fact that all currencies work by mutual consent. In other words, if you can persuade the rich to use your debased coinage, then the poor who buy real fakes and fake fakes will not feel shafted or silly and the scam becomes self-sustaining. [...] This is what is called brand "mystique" and it works best when those who produce the lies believe in them. [..]You have to believe, and to communicate the belief, that there is something intrinsically different about an object that bears a particular name. This is not a new trick: the aristocracy has practiced it to great effect since the French Revolution. A titled name used to mean having, it now means being. Titles are, in marketing terms, the human limited edition. What this means in practice: you've just bought a frog, but the ads swear it's a prince".

Notes for Chanel Chance Eau Tendre are:
Top: grapefuit, melon, quince
Heart: hyacinth, jasmine
Base: iris, white musk, Virginia cedar, amber

The campaign is fronted by Sigrid Agren, and photographed by the legendary Jean-Paul Goude, a longtime collaborator of Chanel parfums. Chanel Chance Eau Tendre will be available as an Eau de Toilette in 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz at major department stores.

Illustration via Foliadesign

Chanel No.46: fragrance review & history

Amidst the fragrances that Gabrielle Bonheur (Coco) Chanel commisioned, No.46 stands as something of a largely unknown enigma. When Ernest Beaux had presented samples to Coco for her choosing for her first perfume launch, he had prepared 10 of them in total, numbered from 1 to 5 and from 20 to 24. Among them, No.5 and No.22 were the winning contestants, issued on 1921 and 1922 respectively. Fragrances so elevated by the diffusion of their aldehydic pitch that they became synonymous with the genre forever after. A little on their left, the refined, gracefully soft aldehydic floral which was released much later; in 1946, at the end of the war. No.46 recalls most vividly the ambience of the classic No.5 that cemented the popularity of futuristic, "frozen" bouquets, while remaining surrounded by other obscure scents with digits on them like fairy godmothers: No.11, No.14, No.20, No.21 and No.55...



The timing for the release of No.46 is crucial in its critical appraisal and its positioning in fragrance history. Despite the fashion genius of Chanel being “incorruptibly sober and pure”, as per her biographer Edmonde Charles-Roux, her life presented certain disputable facets that cast a shadow on the image of the "women's liberator from fashion's oppression" and Evangelist of Style. (Even today, Audrey Tautou who impersonated her in the 2009 film Coco avant Chanel mentioned this early feminist "manifesto" as grounds for accepting the role.) Coco had been self-exiled in Switzerland since 1945, her perfume royalties into exile with her for a decade as well, following the tempestuous reception that accompanied her affair with Hans Gunther von Dincklage; a German officer 13 years her junior ~she was 56 at the time~ and alleged Nazi spy by the nickname "the sparrow", who had arranged for her to remain at the famous Ritz Hotel suite which Coco had made into her wartime abode (and her "real" home for 3 decades, as opposed to her Rue Cambon appartment where she received guests). Additionally, the dubious Operation Modelhut, in which she was implicated, was based on the idea that one of Chanel's friends would pass a letter from her, suggesting secret negotiations furthering the end of war, to Winston Churchill.

“This woman was referred to as a person Churchill knew sufficiently to undertake political negations with him, as an enemy of Russia and as desirous of helping France and Germany whose destinies she believed to be closely linked together.” [according to the Schellenberg interrogation transcripts]

Yet unlike women collaborators who had had their hair shorn in public humiliations or Diana Mitford, Lady Mosley (Hitler's Angel) and Unity (Valkyrie) Mitford, forever associated with the Third Reich, Coco Chanel remained untarnished by repercussions (she was arrested but soon released). No doubt she had taken advantage of her connections, as was her custom: It was a rich boyfriend who helped her open her own clothing boutique in 1913; it was Vera Bate Lombardi who established her name amongst European royalty and through which she met ~her almost husband~ the Duke of Westminster and who possibly served as the connection to Churchill; and it was one of her unnamed powerful liaisons who made if possible for her to escape punishment or humiliation for her past.
The cool reception that the French reserved for her 1956 runway comeback terming it obsolete neverthless was testament to how they hadn't forgotten... Luckily for her, however, it was the Anglosaxons (in the guise of Americans mostly) who loved her little black dresses (they still do!) and thus helped her progressively obliterate the bad memories.

It was during those troubled years of WWII that Chanel had tried to wrest control of her fragrances from the Jewish manufacturers ~the Wertheimer family who own them to this day and also controlled Bourjois~ exploiting the pro-Aryan laws to her benefit. (The Wertheimers owned 70% of the house, Theodile Bader of Galleries Lafayette who introduced Coco to them was rewarded with 20% and Chanel herself only held 10%). As a result, the perfumes conceived in the time frame surrounding WWII are rumoured to generally have a striking resemblance to her already successful 20s and 30s creations, probably in an attempt to reposition herself in the fragrance producing pantheon as an independent entity. Little is known of them, but the time framing bears significance as in 1954 the Wetheimers came to an agreement with Chanel for her to reliquinsh all control to them in exchange for having her personal expenses taken care of for life (It took 17 years).

The way that a little No.46 came into my hands is episodic and worthy of recounting à la Lafontaine: Once upon a time, (then) Florentine-bound Liisa Wennervirta had come across and purchased a full stoppered bottle of said perfume on an auction site, about which she asked my opinion and info after the fact. Certain details had been negatively indicative to its authenticity (or so I thought at the time) and the cynical/distrustful in me sighed a bit inwardly (I repeat this was after the fact) because I really like Liisa, had followed the scandals by Polkadot Patty a couple of years ago and would really flinch if she had been scammed. On the other hand, if it was a fake I would be supremely curious to see how someone would venture into even attempting it and would admire his/her serious cojones despite my disgust at the practice. Liisa sent me some to try out and it transpired that it was against all odds seriously delightful juice!
As Liisa herself said: "It's not that grandma-style rose like Penhaligon's Elizabethan Rose, nor that sweet, slightly sickening rose of Nahema or Mahora in extrait version, it's warm, spicy, carnation-y and slightly reminds me of Fleur de Feu but after a while it mellows to sweet musky calmness. Something that I badly miss among Les Exclusifs."

The opening of Chanel No.46 boldly reveals the penchant of the brand into producing abstractions of an arresting grace. It is redolent of the ambience of No.5 quite vividly, to the point that a lover of one might instantly recognise sub-themes in the structure of the other, like a student of baroque fugues recognising the intermingling motifs across several bars of music. At the time however No.5 hadn't acquired the cult status it has today being instantly recognisable across continents. The basic chord which echoes throughout No.46 seems to be the rose, ylang-ylang, carnation/lily (a hint of spice) and musks (two parts of this harmony form the main basso continuo of No.5, anyway, especially in vintage parfum form and the defunct Eau de Cologne version). This is underscored by a soapy-mossy feeling that recalls retro grooming products to my memory. The musks are especially rich and radiant, emitting warmth and a subtle come-hither.

In its way, Chanel No.46 is firmly placed in the tradition of its times too, while echoing an established success: Smelling it alongside L'Air du Temps (1948) (its carnation tinge plus aldehydic-salicylate facets), the more orientalised Fath de Fath (the original 1953 version, not the 1993 reformulation) with its intensely musky base, or the delicate bouquet of Coeur Joie by Nina Ricci (1946), one is not hard-pressed to understand the greater need for fragrances that presented a refined and genteel ambience of ladies who eased back into their feminine endeavours after the more androgynous occupations of the war days. All without eschewing their animal instincts...

Notes for Chanel No.46:
Top: bergamot, orange and neroli
Heart: rose, lily of the valey, ylang-ylang and jasmine
Base: vetiver, orris, sandalwood, coumarine, vanilla and musk

Needless to say, it's a very rare fragrance and your only chance for a bottle would be buying off a collector.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Chanel reviews & news, Vintage scents

Pic of No.46 by Liisa Werenvita used with permission by Perfume Shrine. Photo of Gabrielle Chanel in 1909 scanned from Edmonde Charles Roux book 2004, p.62. Photo of Diana and Unity Mitford saluting the Nazi way via wikimedia commons.