Friday, February 18, 2011

Sunny Fragrances to Beat the Winter Blues

There are some occasions in the lagging days of winter, eternally stuck someplace between middle & end of February, when the snow keeps piling up at the front windows and the birds fly down-spin over the yard, which can exasperate even the bravest of brave souls. Although my own native winters are mild & sunny, with only the occasional snowfall, white flakes not sturdy enough to pile up and withstand the coming out of the sun the next day, every time I have been away from home into a northern European country or in the windy winters of Down Under beside the lapping of the cold ocean, I got a taste for what it must feel like to always be cold, always rubbing one's nose when outside to stop it from getting numb.

The scented world around seems sleeping, with the indoor smells gaining momentum, but perfume can provide an intentional, on demand change of one's landscape: How exquisite a pearly aldehydic floral seems on an ice-cold day and how bright & dreamy does a floriental, full of the sunny rays that warmed the petals of its tropical flowers...

My picks for instilling a sunny disposition and banish those winter blahs comprise a list of perfumes which are noted for their optimism, sheer joie de vivre, indulgent nature and easy wearing; in two words, uncomplicated happiness! Fragrances to remind you of the coming of spring and to put a spring in your (still mutton-wearing) step! After all, in Turkish tradition the end of February marks the end of winter's cemre: Cemre are 3 fireballs coming from heavens to warm the earth for the coming of spring; the first appears on February 19-20, the second between February 26-27 and the third falls to ground on 5-6 March...Spring is just round the corner!
And if you're gifting someone to cheer them up, consider a bouquet of chocolate hearts for a perfect gift hamper accompanied with an elegant floral perfume for a striking impression.

10 Fragrances to Beat the Winter Blues for Men/Women:

Patricia de Nicolai Le Temps d'une Fête
The perfect hyacinth-ladden green floral to evoke spring, full of crushed leaves & grass; a fragrance so beautiful and cheerful that it will make you spin around and around humming Mendelssohn's Spring Song even when getting down the Christmas decorations.

Ayala Moriel Les Nuages de Joie Jaune
Described as "drifting in yellow clouds of happiness", this is an all-natural soliflore fragrance built on the yellow pom-poms of mimosa and the honeyed goodness of cassie. As light as air and as joyful as the first bright, sunny day in late February. [availability]

Annick Goutal Songes
Someplace in the tropics, languorous women with Gaugin-esque physiques pick up cananga odorata (ylang ylang blossoms) to render their sunny essence which finds its way inside this summery potion of liquid sunshine. A floriental full of the suntan and solar notes of salicylates, fanned on a vanillic and woody base.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Mandarine Basilic
These succulent Mediterranean flavours, combining almost as in a fruit salad, benefit from the spicy zing of the basil note. An easy, piquant scent which lifts the mood anytime.

Profumum Victrix
The Latin sounding name hides a masculine cologne of earth and wind, where the laurel, the greens and the coriander conspire to give notions of open, endless prairies under a dog-toothed sun.

Molinard de Molinard
Fruity floral in the best possible sense. If you like Amazone and just didn't know where to look to to find a similar fragrance, look no further. This is has the happy ambience of a warm summer evening spent at an outdoors cinema in Sicily or a Greek island, all paved with gravel, with thick jasmine & honeysuckle vines climbing its walls, watching Cinema Paradiso.


Hermès Concentrée d'Orange Verte
This lime-laced cologne is simply the best masculine/unisex cologne to lift a lagging mood or a weary spirit. The hesperidic touch is enough to get you out of bed as sure as a good Robusta.

Patou Câline
The greenly fresh aldehydic sophistication and malleable primness of Patou’s Câline remind me of Audrey Hepburn in Sabrina, after her European trip in which she becomes a proper “lady”, almost unrecognizable to those who knew her as merely the chauffer’s daughter to the rich family. [Full review here.]

Lancôme Miracle So Magic
A surprising entry in the Miracle flankers stable, this is composed by Annick Menardo and although it diverts from her smoky, dark path, it bears a remarkable affability without insipidness: the green sweet smell of clover fields opens up on an endless vista in front of you as wild-flowers zoom into focus. Just lovely!

Hermès Iris Ukiyoé
Its detractors call it "Yuck! Away!" but don't let this parody on the Japanese-alluding name deter you. Notes of an aqueous hydrangea and a lightly spicy grape-like accent bring forth the fantasy of the iris flower, instead of the familiar rooty-violety root. Spring-like! [Full review here.]

And of course anticipating some of the upcoming fragrances for spring makes one dream a little bit and withstand the last throes of cold better. Catch them up here!

And you? What are your favourite fragrances to come out of hibernation? Tell me in the comments.




Spring Song by Felix Mendelssohn from "Lieder Ohne Worte".
Painting "The Promise of Spring" by Lawrence Alma-Tadema.
Molinard pic via Perfumes.bighouse.blogspot.com. Goutal bottle via thefragrantelf.livejournal.com

Thursday, February 17, 2011

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.

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