Not another commercial!

I stumbled upon this lethal CHANEL commercial, originally found by Octavian Coifan, with actor Tim Duquette and directed by Marcel Langenegger.
It just begged for commentary, don't you think?



(Uploaded by TIMDNYC on Youtube) Click to watch.




The chronology of the commercial can be indirectly guessed as late 90s, judging from the jewels on the woman who plays Coco Chanel herself. I distinctly remember the white cuff bracelet with the beaded pattern emerging sometime in the 1997/1998 collections, leafing past issues of Vogue. If you want to get a glimpse of the newer bangles by the house of Chanel, those depicted here are very nice and wearable.
It was in 1922 that Coco, known as Mademoiselle, among anyone mentioning her name in her vicinity in later life, issued the most iconic designer perfume, No.5; and the year she used jersey, a humble material used for masculine underwear, as her foray into fashion modernity and avant-garde. Costume jewelry would follow as well as her famous jacket and the little black dress.

To revert to perfumed matters, ésprit de parfum means of course "the spirit of the perfume" and is a concentration very much favoured by Christian Dior Parfums among others, but basically it contains the ratio of essences vs. ethanol and water that we more often than not call Eau de parfum.
However Chanel has invested a great deal in branding our memories with the "L'ésprit de Chanel" tagline for its Coco scent ~and from then on for the whole line of products; and besides ésprit evokes a spiritual rite of passage, as if it contained something much more ethereal than the mundane cosmos of aromachemicals alongside some natural essences that it actually does. This is cunning advertising of course but also an allusion to the powers of olfaction to affect our mood and enhance flights of fancy, which is something quite tangible for perfume addicionados like ourselves.

In this specific commercial nevertheless it takes another not so subtle meaning, denoting the essence, the spiritual core and soul of those women who have been "harvested" almost, like flowers, to render their most precious essences. Recalling to mind the german book "Das Parfum" (last year reprised as a film titled "Perfume: The story of a Murderer"), in which Greneouille, the anti-hero, seeks out the best of humanity in the rare essence of untouched virgin beauties, using a technique similar to enfleurage to render a concrete that would mesmerise the world with its profound innocence and beauty. If only human essence could be captured, imagine how poignant farewells and break-ups could be or how memories of loved ones could linger on for ever.

Yet the commcercial also brings to mind the vats of formaldehyde and other preserving agents in which bodies are kept in such films of science fiction such as Alien, Event Horizon or The Matrix. I find this touch particularly ironic, as it might have been intentional as a tongue-in-cheek innuendo to the fact that Chanel No.5 contains synthetic ingredients. However recent occurences while bloggers visited the Chanel laboratory and appartment (allegedly house perfumer Jacques Polge uttered the dubious line that No.5 contains only natural ingredients) make me think that this is not meant for the masses and it is either my mind playing tricks on me or a very subtle hint by the director.

The vaguely forensics scene of the body of the woman and the drops of blood or -indeed, essence- of hers diluted in a pint of other liquid is a nod to detective stories and CSI-directed shows, which are quite popular by all accounts.
The sparse bottle apothecary style with the slanted writting on it, as it came from a latin-inscribed chest of drawers in a pharmacy is indicative of the spirit in which the spartan architectural bottle was conceived, if not in historical accuracy, then at least in a matter of kindred spirits.
The frightened look on the perfumer's face (which is of course quite different that the one of actual perfumer Ernest Beaux)and his tentative gesture that denotes the number five, to communicate the reply to the question how many women were murdered for this, is another playful take on the infamous tale on how Chanel No.5 came to its numerical "name".

All in all, this is probably the most beguiling commercial for Chanel No.5 I have come across, exactly because it is so contrary to every image of glamour and romance reiterated before it. It transpires as a little gruesome, a little cruel, which is not au contraire to the real ésprit de Chanel, a person who would have served time in jail for WWII treason (her affair with the Nazi officer) had it not been for her highly placed connections and Churchill's pardon. And it makes one feel that it doesn't have to do with glamour at all but with inner need that resonates with the subconsious. A very apt concept for a very imaginative commercial.

Pic by afternoonrain/flickr

Lucky draw for Daisy mini: the winner!

As promised I did put names in a hat for the lucky draw I had announced on my Daisy by Marc Jacobs review and the winner is none other than Divina. I bet this would fit nicely with her miniature collection.
Please mail me with an address so I can send this out to you!

Aromatics Elixir by Clinique: fragrance review

If you have ever wandered in a dark, damp forest you know the smell of dead leaves trampled underfoot and grasses soaked with bog water. But do you know what trolls smell like? Do you know what the enchanted forest vibrates of? You feel it in the air, you know it in your flesh, the waters speak of it in hushed murmurs...
Elixir. Aromatics Elixir.

The old scent by lab-coated cosmetic giant has nothing clinical about it. Except perhaps for its potency which is phenomenal, accounting for it being immediately recognisable and perceived within a 10-mile radius. It is the one singular scent, a very characteristic chypre, I always compliment on its wearers yet find stifling when I wear it myself. Maybe this is why it introduced the infamous "spray and walk into the mist" technique. It had to! But then "walk into the mist" is so evocative a phrase anyway.

Composed in 1971 by master perfumer Bernard Chant, the same man who created the headstrong Cabochard, a personal favourite for all the right reasons, it bears the powerful signature of intense patchouli and moss in the arms of sandalwood and vetiver. With a base like that it brings to mind the german forests of the brothers Grimm and the scandinavian mythology. The sudden entrance into an apocryphal cave where creation must have begun, in the guts of the earth, fans out powdery notes of coumarin and rose and the bitter taste of good soap. Humble chamomille is mocking you as you bend to pick up some to only come face to face to poisoined mushrooms.

With its dramatic, sad and intense tonality, it reminds me of Aase's Death by Norwegian composer Edvard Grieg, from "Peer Gynt" (Suite No. 1, Op. 46)
Click to listen to it.


(Uploaded by skszyp on youtube)

This is no laughing matter! No fairies or elves lurk in the dark corners, no Shakespearian lightness, no redemption for the frail of heart. It takes bravado and cojones to wear it and to be prepared to burn in its embrace. Into the embrace of the Dragon, where all things meet their opposites. The future and the past; desire and regret; knowledge and oblivion; and love....oh yes...
Excalibur came as a most welcome shocker to my novice eyes back in 1981, when it introduced me to what later became an obsession and almost a thesis. With its ingenious choice of thespian extraordinaire Nicol Williamson, its ravishing villainess in Helen Mirren alongside other wonderful choices following the masterful baguette of John Boorman it filled my mind with the beautiful, magical imagery of the emerald isle where it was shot and with the gruesome realism of medieval battle coupled with the romanticism of Morte d'Arthur.


Click for a quick taste.

(uploaded by kipesquire on youtube)

Recently there has been a Velvet Sheer version of Aromatics Elixir out (a seemingly oily gel that does contain alcohol nevertheless per Clinique, in a beautiful clear splash bottle with a clear glass top). Lighter, younger, much more wearable, playing up on a more subtle approach of more chamomille and a less animalic base, minus the civet and deep moss.
So if you have qualms, maybe now is the time to step into the enchanted forest and reap the aromatheuraputic benefits it has been purported to have on the psyche since its creation all that time ago. The body products are also an excellent choice as their scent really lingers.
However the old version in parfum is still something to hold in awe, even if you do not like it.

Like Merlin says: "A dream to some, a nightmare to others". Couldn't be more aptly said for Aromatics Elixir.

The Quest for the Great Dry Citrus

Perfumeshrine receives lots of mail from readers. Some with kind words of admiration, some with suggestions (which are much appreciated), some with questions on various matters. The latter usually make me ponder and try to come up with thoughtful answers, which I am not always sure make the grade and help along, except when people do follow up and thank me. But it's worth the effort every time, I think.

This is one such email I got recently:

"Dear all,

I am a man fascinated with fragrances.

Ever since my brother, working at our small town perfume shop dressing up windows, brought home little bottles (called testers I found out much later) of fragrances. It was in the early 80s and I still remember that I was impressed with Cacharel's Yatagan {correction of editor: this comes from Caron} and Dior's Eau Savage {sic} .

My love affair with fragrances continued in a distance, until in the late 80s early 90s when I desired to have a bottle of CK's Obsession. We got it from Canada from a relative of my first love. I used it for some time; sometimes intoxicated by its power sometimes disturbed. Next there came the CK One again from Canada (!). That was a big bottle and we happily shared it with my second bigger love. I was happy with CK's freshness and cleanliness.

Then something powdery came in the market and it was a bit nostalgic of childhood smells around loveable old aunts... I bought my first fragrance... a set of Le Male. This must have been in 1994 or 1995. Years passed by with some Sander's Simple, some Kouros, even some Lanvin to discover 6 years ago, due to a new big love, the fragrance collection of Comme des Garcons. I chose my first CDG after asking their Paris flagstore to post me scented papers of Odeur 53 and 71. By that time I was already far away from my hometown. I chose 71 and accompanied it with Dry Clean by CDG. These were my fragrances for three years. Then there came 53. Now I am in my 2nd bottle of 53. Meanwhile this last summer I wore Eau de Lalique which I found to be quite impressive for an eau and look forward for a bottle more. I have been researching for the great dry citrus fragrance for a few months and that is how I came across Eau de Lalique. It took me 10 days to decide on it and I was happy I found it. In the meantime I tried CDG's Play on paper and my skin. It was disappointing. I received also a sample booklet of luxuriously put together perfumes by Serge Lutens; not my cup of tea I must admit as I am rather picky with my teas nowadays. I haven't tried the Guerlen' s {sic} Eau, with citrus. I am afraid that, that too is going to be too sweet.

My kindest regards.

A devoted fragrance lover.

Michail"

A couple of comments, first:
I gather this was sent to more than one person, there are a couple of mistakes that might be attributed to a newcomer to fragrance lingo or not and there is no direct question. Also I am a little perplexed that the writer was not able to find Clavin Klein fragrances where he is, considering they were available in department stores, as far as I recall.
But I reckon the question is the quest for the great dry citrus. Which is valid enough. Therefore dry citrus recs should follow.

Dear Michail,
thank you for choosing Perfume Shrine to ask this question.
I think you have dabbled in a cornucopia of perfumes that are not strictly confined to citrusy smells, so your tastes are really more varied than you might think.
Congrats on the daring appreciation of Yatagan too; a scent that not many would brave. I really did laugh out on the Lutens comment, as those are very much revered and somehow your outlook on them came as a surprising and I might say unaffected, refreshing change. And yes, they are rather sweet perfumes to begin with, per general consensus, so it's all right.

Considering that citrus scents are so popular and varied, sourcing their top notes from various fruits that invariably have a different odour profile and therefore different sweetness level, I would venture to recommend a few that to my nose seem like what you are looking for. Orange and mandarin render sweeter notes than lemon or lime (such as in CKOne) and begamot is a more classic bittersweet note. Neroli has a more floral tonality as it is distilled from flowers, while petitgrain is another ingredient that might remind you of citrusy and lightly green notes. Therefore reading what the notes for each fragrance are might help you in your quest.

The Eau Imperiale de Guerlain you are referring to is not too sweet, if you are hesitant to try it. It is however very fleeting and that might disappoint you if you are accustomed to such tenacious and potent fragrances as those you mention.
A good choice for a dry lemon with the background of cypress wood is the now classic Eau d'Hadrien by Annick Goutal. A smaller brand that you can however find where you are.

A tenacious and easier to procure citrus is O by Lancome, a scent that is marketed to women, but which has been borrowed by men since it launched in the late 1960s. The crushed lemon leaves of the beginning get anchored down by a little sandalwood, which lends a sensual touch to the more acerbic opening.

In that vein I would also recommend Eau Dynamissante from Clarins, a skincake brand that has produced this as their first aromatic foray, claiming aromatheurapeutic benefits from its use as well. It's bracing, cool and quite dry and would satisfy your summer needs admirably.

For a grapefuit fix may I suggest Citrus Paradisi by Czech and Speake. It's a clean and realistic smell with a little smokiness in the background. Also Vie de Chateau by Patricia de Nicolai is another bracing cologne, technically not just citrusy, but more green and woody, that you might enjoy nevertheless. Originally conceived for a prince (prince Sigalas) by de Nicolai who is related to the family Guerlain it is a classy composition that encompasses many acerbic notes allied to herbs and aromatic grasses that lend a distinguished dryness.
Another unisex easily got scent is Un Jardin sur le Nil by Hermes, opening on what they say is green mango, yet I perceive as tart grapefruit. It segues to woody notes and a little whiff of incense. It might be a little less dry than Vie de Chateau though.

Another confident De Nicolai scent is New York which combines bergamot and Sicilain lemon with spice and some amber to produce a scent that is trully mellow and polished.
Douro(formerly Lords) by Penhaligon's is a more powdery, sharp and soapy rendition of citrus notes on a woody, aromatic base and you might find it to your liking.

For the more obscure fragrances, please refer to this excellent and most reliable site (to which I am not affiliated, by the way): Aus Liebe Zum Duft/ First in Fragrance.

I hope you do get to find what you are looking for.

Regards,
Perfume Shrine



Dear readers, if you have any more recommendations, please mention them in the comments section. Thanks!

Next week we review chypre fragrances of the enchanted kind!...
Pics come from Luckyscent and Garden.co.uk

Daisy by Marc Jacobs: fragrance review and lucky draw!

If you doubt your eyes, you can never doubt your nose, it seems. It is unmistakeably capable of discerning that which the promotional material might deny. It has the ability to get not only molecules stuck in its receptive velcro but also memories, associations and musings. And it was thus that Daisy by Marc Jacobs entered my consiousness: as the memory of another scent.
Marc, darling, I know you have Sofia Coppola as a muse; you have made this clear many times from the bags to the shoes to the perfumes. I wonder does she use Light Blue by Dolce & Gabanna too apart from her other favourites? Because frankly this is what your latest reminds me of vividly; oh, so vividly!

At first I did a double take not willing to believe what I had read about it. I had even posted about its notes which come in quick succession; like a fussilade in the face of ugliness they read: top notes of wild strawberry, violet leaves and ruby red grapefruit, a heart of gardenia, violet and jasmine petals on a base of vanilla and musk.
And yet, if we compare with the notes for Light Blue: Sicilian Citron, Bluebell, Granny Smith apple, Jasmine Sambac, Bamboo, White rose, Cedar wood, Amber, Musk ....what do we get? Close to nil...
Because apart from jasmine and musk (which surely are in about 99.9999% of all feminine perfumes) I fail to discern what makes those two so similar. Granted, the citrusy burst of Light Blue and the woodiness of its base set it apart (and probably are to blame for the accolades it's getting right and left).
Basically a classic in the making, Light Blue has been selling crazily and especially in the Mediterranean countries it's something akin to putting on your instant personal gelateria with icy cold smoothies to enjoy all day long. It gives the impression that if you lick it off your arm your tongue will climax.

The tendency to follow in a bestseller's shoes is not new of course and the examples of perfumes who did just that is legion - like the Antichrist, one might humorously say. This is neither the space nor the time to talk about it, we have other posts to concern ourselves with that in the near future. It is enough that fairly recently Moschino came out with something that is also quite close to Light Blue: his I Love Love ~arguably one of the silliest names in the known universe, yet a decent enough little potion.
Of course if we compare notes, we see that it features: orange, lemon, grapefruit, redcurrant, tea rose, lily of the valley, cinnamon leaves, tanaka wood, cedarwood, musk. Ah...a bit closer. But still!
Marc in a rare confessionary mood divulged that

“I don’t want to get too artsy about inspiration, but there is a sense memory, a reference, in fragrances”

Uh huh...thought so.

Not that Daisy smells exactly like Light Blue because it doesn't. And what would be the use of it, if it did? This is of course perfume no man's land as no one wants to answer this question it seems. But give a well-known recipe a little twist and it will sell like cupcakes. This tendency has resulted in an homogenization of the market that is to its detriment, alas, yet perfumers and companies persist regardless.

The promotional material for Daisy reads:

"a sparkling floral scent - fresh and feminine, with a touch of whimsy. A modern vintage that embodies effortless charm."

I have to admit that it is a very nice, inoffensive, pleasant little scent that would be a lovely foray of a budding into womanhood young thing that loves to have an adorably pretty bottle on her dresser. Because Marc, really, you outdid yourself after those spartan Splash bottles of yours! This is sooooo cute, so girly, so fashionably whimsical that fans will come in droves to the stores eager to give you their cash for this.
Three little daisies of vinyl with a center of metallic gold adorn the cap, with a little matching "belt" underneath it. It's much better in person, because the petals are bendable and soft. And it makes me wonder why Marc was reportedly not content with it and thinking of changing it a bit. That would be miscalculation, Marc, I must warn you!

Of course daisies do not smell per se. But who gives a damn? This is fantasy land and Marc is saying it himself:

“Daisies don’t smell, but I wanted to evoke the feeling that you get when you see them — happy and youthful. My gardenia and jasmine scents [Marc Jacobs for women and Blush Marc Jacobs, respectively] are more singular and definitely more ‘designer’ scents. I don’t want to say they’re older, but they’re more sophisticated.”

I admit that Blush is my choice out of his mentioned scents for its crystalline transparency that weaves its spell to you despite your best efforts and his Winter Amber Splashwas powdery goodness to me. I don't know however if I would term them terribly sophisticated. It might have to do with different perceptions.
Daisy is abstract, beginning on a tang of berries -a very popular note in noughties perfumery- seguing on to a floral theme of indeterminate fugue that ascertains Alberto Morillas's artistry, but perhaps betrays his innovative spirit (his list of creations is fascinating: click here). The sustained note of light musk on a lightly vanillic bed stays on the skin poised for hours.

All in all, Daisy is not a bad case of a fruity floral, if only because it is not overly sweet. And this is an achievement nowadays. It is sure to please and it smells good and will earn you compliments from people, most assuredly. If it comes in a too cute container, it's not its fault. It was drawn that way!



Daisy comes in an eau de toilette concentration at 1.7oz/50ml at 55$ and 3.4oz/100ml at 70$, as well as a shower gel (30$), a body lotion (32$) and a rich body butter (35$).Available from major department stores.

And for our lucky readers I have a very cute mini bottle of it available for one winner of a draw. Please post in the comment section if you want to enter the draw and good luck!!


Chypres will resume as scheduled later on...

Pic of eye from athinorama, pic of bottle from Marc Jacobs campaign