Guerlain and Chanel upcoming launches: fragrance rumours

As a coda to the Guerlain news on new fragrance we had announced the other day, we were able to find a little more info that might elucidate one of our claims. It was hypothesized that the phrase Guerlain, Une Ville, Un Parfum, recently trademarked by la maison Guerlain, might indicative a commemorative limited edition or a concept similar to Comme des Garcons with their Incense Series, inspired by different cities around the world steeped in the tradition of incense, each evoking a special atmosphere.

Digging and asking we got hold of more info on the Guerlain idea: apparently there are some names that do indicate the latter rather than the former. There are the deposited names of Guerlain 01 Moscou, Guerlain 02 New York and Guerlain 03 Tokyo, as well as variations that combine Paris with each city (ie. Guerlain Paris-Moscou etc.) It is obvious that Guerlain is going for a more glamorous choice of metropolies rather than the anchorite approach of the Japanese brand. And it was further elucidated to us that although the term Guerlain, Une Ville, Un Parfum is indeed a communication tool that has or will be used, as Octavian Coifan suggested the other day to us, the above names with cities included are on the contrary on the same level as other perfume names such as L'Instant or Tutti Kiwi (one of the lastest Aqua Allegoria scents).
That would be interesting to watch!

There is also the name Habit Noir, perhaps a flanker to Habit Rouge, the classic 1965 masculine counterpart to Shalimar, with its deliciously powdery notes. Noir is the new...eh...can't say "black", as it does mean black, but let's just say it's on the lips of everyone right now. I don't see the innovation in naming something "black" or "noir" anymore, especially in view of it being used for compositions that are as far removed from the dangerous, illicit air they imply as possible. Could they have replaced that name with the Habit de Metal flanker which they released in March 2008? Although I am kind of intrigued on what the names Mephisto and Centurion are doing there as well!

Oh, and after Insolence, My Insolence and the newest Insolence Eau de Parfum, prepare yourself for an Insolence Tendre ~probably for next spring launch. Just what we have been anxiously awaiting for, n'est-ce pas?


And what about Chanel? Apart from the newest inclusion in Les Exclusifs, Beige, of course; an addition which erupted like a sleeping volcano under our nose (click to read) as being a white floral with a pronounced (?) musky base and launching at Saks in a week.
I think it's fairly safe to assume that the next one to join in about a year will be either Rouge, or Bleue, judging by my info. Octavian knows the vintage Rouge was strong on rosy tones anchored by Javanese vetiver with lots of sweet powdery orris-violet notes. But we have already ascertained through Sycomore and Beige that the new variations bear no similarity with the vintage alchemies, therefore all possibilities are open. The violets potential however is something up till now untapped in the Chanel stable, therefore the new Rouge might veer towards that.

Good news for us though: Cristalle is not only not showing signs of being discontinued as had been feared by many perfume bloggers and participants on online fora, but there seems to be a series of flankers programmed or at least in the process of thought to exploit its chic and insouciant pedigree. Variations, such as Eau Aromatic ~shouldn't it be Aromatique, though?~, Eau Citrus and Eau Rosée. And/or perhaps also Vert and Bleu de Cristalle, which seem older (abandoned?) trademarks.
Whether these will be issued under the collective name Cristalle Facettes (Facets of Cristalle) or the term Facettes is reserved for some makeup addendum is dubious. We will soon enough see for ourselves.

Perhaps there might also be another Chance flanker, under the name Chance Folle? I'd say this is pushing one's luck (how much more pedestrian can they go for Chance?) but I am not averse to the name itself, what with its gambler's nuance which would fit with a sophisticated commercial I had posted about previously and with its allusion to Divine Folie by Patou (although I am sure it won't have any relation to that one). My personal opinion is it will be a phrase used in the advertising, rather for a stand-along fragrance. Les Lignes de Chance is perhaps the collective name under which the flankers could be marketed.

But the most intriguing should be Jersey de Chanel, which directly alludes to the fashions Coco herself introduced in the 1920s, inspired by the material previously used for masculine undergarments.

The above are of course mere hints at what we might or might not expect ~some plans do get abandonded mid-term sometimes. They have not been officially corroborated before the firms are ready to proceed with press releases and carefully mapped-out marketing strategies.
But it's fun to speculate nevertheless.

Guerlain ad via Okadi, Chanel Les Exclusifs photo courtesy of New York Times.

Vetiver Series 4: the Secret of Gender in Vetiver

Have you ever watched a conjurer put a volunteer from the audience into one of those contraptions that open and close via those ornamented Chinese doors? He enters as a man, next thing you see is the magician's attractive female assistant emerge from the same little door all decked out in sequins and feathers. What happened to the man? Who knows. He doesn't disappear, unless we're into a Woody Allen film, but the change is dramatic and surprising. The same thing that sometimes happens upon setting eyes on a beautiful woman who has a little too wide shoulders, a little too large hands and you catch yourself trying to discern if she's hiding an Adam's apple under that dainty diamanté necklace and the shimmer of a thousand crushed pearls in her Nars eyeshadow.

Olfactory perceptions can be like that. First you think you have a good, solid, traditional feminine or masculine "note". Then the artist takes the material and spins it on its axon rendering it the bearer of news in the drama that unfolds in the stage of your olfactory adventure.
Vetiver is just one of those materials. Although traditionally thought of as masculine, as far back as in the 1910s-1920s, vetiver, without its masculine accoutrement, was starring in very feminine fragrances playing the liberated card of the garçonne, just hinting at a subversive undercurrent. Some of the unabashedly feminine fragrances featuring vetiver do so with the gusto of a painter who puts a touch of black on the milkiest white to create the enigmatic imperceptibly greyish pallor of a romantic heroine.

Besides, vetiver along with orris contributed to the famous powdery base Vetyrisia, featured in many classic products that evoke seemingly long-forgotten times.

Ernest Beaux with Chanel No.5 (1921) put the defining touch in the aldehydic, abstract creations that defined the new femininity: foregoing the usual flower bouquets, he infused the composition with a woody note of vetiver that creates disturbing arpegios under the super feminine ylang-ylang and the catty musk of a fur coat. The result très célèbre remains a perfect evocation of sohpsticated feminity that changed the world of fragrance for ever: "a woman should not smell like a flower patch", Coco Chanel quipped.
Jeanne Lanvin went one better in this particular field by having André Fraysse make vetiver an even more pronounced note in Arpège, a dark green glove that engulfs the flowers in forest tranquility. Crepe de Chine by Millot and Djedi by Guerlain were other fragrances featuring its chic aura.
Perfumer Maurice Blanchet worked with Charles Frederick Worth's son, Jean Charles, to create Parfums Worth in an era when couturiers came up with fragrances inspired by the paradigms of Chanel and Jean Patou. In 1932 he introduced Je Reviens to the world ~a fragrance masterminded around narcissus and anchored by the serene touch of vetiver. Completely changed now to the point of non recognition, Je Reviens serves as a landmark of Art-Deco style and the romantic inclinations of the times.
Indiscret by Lucien Lelong was created in 1935 (revamped and completely changed in 1997 by Mane) in a Surrealist-inspired bottle reminiscent of half-drawn curtains. Reportedly one of the staples of Marlen Dietrich, it evoked the ambience of a cabaret with its daring use of decadent flowers of corruption and woody notes in which vetiver played a significant part.
Its polar opposite could be Blue Grass by Elizabeth Arden came in 1936 by perfumer George Fuchs, from old Grasseois house of Fragonard. Unapologetically sporty and carefree, not cosmopolitan in the least, it was named for the Kentucky "blue grass" in honour of Arden's horses. "You'll never sell it with that name, it will remind people of manure" one of Arden's managers complained, but history proved him wrong as it became one of Arden's bestsellers.
In the 30s unisex was quite popular in a light hesperidic and vetiver-woody composition bearing the name Aqua di Parma. Their classic Colonia was reportedly favoured by both men and women, some of them famous like Ava Gardner and Cary Grant, as a valued pick-me-up.



The classic emancipated chypres around and after WWII found their predictable ally in the aloof stance of vetiver. The dangerous Bandit (1944) for Piguet, created by Germaine Cellier for dykes, managed to combine the tweed feel of vetiver with bitter green quinolines evoking leather in what was an outlaw's uniform. Ma Griffe used to be assertively powdery and frosty with the spicy touch of styrax and vetiver that providing the cooling background of a confident and world-savvy woman singing an emerald song atop a Parisian terrace. And of course the ultra-green, ultra classy dry Y by Yves Saint Laurent (1964) which should be sampled if only to see what a true classy chypre smells like.

But its most surprising use came into the aldehydics of the 60s and 70s. The Yves Saint Laurent iconic creation, Rive Gauche (1971), utilised vetiver to provide the cool background on which frosty, sparkling flowers rest silently, as did Calandre by Paco Rabanne, two years its senior and arguably the prototype of a metallic rose smothered in frost. The impeccable taste of Calèche was furthered through not only aldehydes, but also the quietly woody tonality of vetiver, which is the dominand impression of its base notes.
Clinique's Aromatics Elixir (1969), by nose Bernand Chant, took that gigantic rose and buried it under a whole forest floor of patchouli and vetiver to render it the most memorable sillage one can encounter on a stranger. It's interesting to note that Chant worked on both Cabochard with the drydown of which there is kinship as well as the classic masculine Aramis by Lauder.

Chanel No.19 is perhaps the best example of vetiver shinning through a starched cotton shirt that is meant to clad a woman of pedigree. Unassuming, prim, beautiful in its orris richness, it looks upon you with the severe eye of a lady to the manor born who never dons pearls but opts for cool silver bangles.
The echoes can be heard both in Chanel's other cool composition, Cristalle (Eau de toilette 1974 by Henri Robert; Eau de parfum 1992 by Jacques Polge), as well as the enigmatic green fruity chypre of Diorella by Edmond Roudnitska.
White Linen (1978) by Estee Lauder and Ivoire (1979) by Balmain both play upon the clean, soapy facets of feminine traditionality with a distinct touch of serene vetiver that is treated in a cool and soothing, powdery way.

The 80s saw a return to chypres, this time more professional and cerebral, less animalic than before, fit for the office heroines of a brave shoulder-pad era. A plethora of them use vetiver: the emphatically powdery with a pittosporum heart Knowing (1988) by Lauder and the exhuberant and projective rose of Diva by Ungaro. Interspersed there came the naughty, assertive dissenters who had other plans after the boardroom meetings and always kept a pair of spare lingerie in their crocodile clutches: Paloma Picasso and Parfum de Peau by Montana.

Even in the loud florals of the 80s, such as Giorgio Beverly Hills (1981), vetiver is the one saving grace that might have kept the strident, overachievers from becoming the gripe of death. A case in point was evident in the older version of Beautiful (1986) by Estee Lauder that kept the extravagance of intense white florals under check by copious amounts of the earthy grass root. Possibly it was a knowing nod to the successful turn that Sophia Grojsman had interjected in the brand's White Linen almost a decade before and in the fruity "grapefruit impression" of Calyx for Prescriptives in 1986.
The trick of containing white florals with vetiver was repeated two years later in Carolina Herrera's eponymous fragrance for women: a scent full of the indolic smell of jasmine and tuberose that would risk being caricatures of womanhood had it not been the discreet underscore of vetiver.
The experienced Jean Kérleo was aware of this true marriage by utilizing it in both his shadowy chyprish floral 1000 (1972) and the sunny, hearty smile of Sublime (1992), both for Jean Patou.
Could it then be that ommiting vetiver is the fault of loud white floral fragrances that bombard our nostrils with all the force of a WWII London air-raid? We can but assume.


As years and trends progressed vetiver along with patchouli became de rigeur: restrictions on the amount of oakmoss used in fragrances necessitated a turn into its earthy and re-assuring timbre.
Some surprising examples show just how magical its effect can be in the most unexpected ways. Le Baiser du Dragon by Cartier is full of vetiver in the base beneath the amaretto notes of its heart. Agent Provocateur uses it to render that troubling, earthy chyprish nuance to rose and saffron. Even Lush, a brand famous for their "homemade" looking skincare came up with a solid perfume inspired by the soothing attributes of vetiver, combined with the ultra-feminine jasmine for good measure: Silky Underwear, first released as a powder.

And then again the opening of the "niche" sector saw the tremendous potential for fragrances aimed at both sexes which made use of the note in unique ways, away from the establishment classic, rendering it very popular with women of unconventional tastes: from the fresh, young and chic hermaphrodite of Chanel Sycomore and the nutty, bittersweet delicacy of Vetiver Tonka in the Hermessences to the licorice-laced Vétiver Oriental by Lutens and the sexy darkness of an unusual brunette beauty of Vetiver Bourbon by Miller Harris.

But we will return with seperate reviews later on.
To be continued!

Autoportrait by Tamara de Lempicka (1925) via art.com. Bandit ad originally uploaded at MUA. Knowing ad via Parfum de Pub. Pic of Elena Bonham Carter smoking from "Fight Club"

Kapsule by Karl Lagerfeld: new fragrances ~Light, Woody, Floriental

Karl Lagerfeld is best known for a few things: his trademark ponytail, his eye-glaring weight-loss, his prolific churning-out of numerous collections for several brands (Chanel, his own, Fendi etc.) and his perfume fetish. The latter got manifested not only through his own personal choices (one of which is the immortelle-rich Eau Noire by Dior's private line, at the same time when he donned the Heidi Sleiman suits on his newly thinspirational figure), but through the fragrances under his own name. From the old Chloe (which got reformulated recently into a completely new fragrance)and the spicy KL to the discontinued Sun, Moon, Stars and Photo for men.

Now Karl is launching a new unisex line, called Kapsule, (with K standing for Karl?) in collaboration with Coty. The press release is talking about aiming to en-Kapsule-ate the French market, whatever that might mean. The aim of Lagerfeld is making a quality perfume that will be affordable.
Somehow, Coty as the investor can be a blessing and a curse: It might signify a low markup that will aim at wide distribution, great team and PR and prove very successful commercially (example: Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker) or it could equal a celebritoid vibe on the mind of perfume buying audiences that is sub-par in quality (example: all the usual suspects, I'm afraid). At any case, the Coty team are not novices and they know what they're doing.
For Karl Lagerfeld the project has acquired a -shall I say it?- rather "niche" touch: from the sparse bottles to the unisex proclivities. The names which evoke fragrance families are gently evocative of the newest trio of Guerlain Carnal Elixirs/Elixirs Charnels, although much less playful in their intent. Also the different perfumers behind the different versions within the same range is another niche trait.
Everyone is doing their own version of niche! Niche is the new mass-market, obviously.

The new line will nevertheless be issued in three versions, each aiming to capture its own audience:
Light will be fresh and summery, with notes of bitter orange, jasmine, nutmeg, clove and musk.(transparent blue bottle; nose: Mark Buxton)
Woody will be focused on cedar on an amber background with accents of plum and and moss. (dark blue bottle; nose: Olivier Cresp)
Floriental will be the most delicate with tea leaf aroma,ivy leaf and violet notes. (red bottle; nose: Emile Cooperman)
The names which evoke fragrance families are gently evocative of the newest trio of Guerlain Carnal Elixirs/Elixirs Charnels, although much less playful in their intent.
Bottles are simple and solid, designed by Lutz Herrmann: squarely built with a round label, each one tinted a different colour.

Expect to see the Kapsule collection by Karl Lagerfeld from October 2008, starting with Paris exclusively at Colette and Parfumeries Marionnaud and rolling out in Germany and US in November. Early sights of the range can also be caught by autumnal travellers who will see it in travel retail (duty-free shops). In the US Neiman Marcus will have them as an exclusive.
30ml/1oz or 75ml/2.5oz eau de toilette spray for €37/$59 and €68/$108 respectively.

Pics and info through wwd.and Vogue.fr

Guerlain: Bois Torride and Guerlain, Une Ville, Un Parfum: fragrant news

An avalanche of heads-up involving upcoming launches from major houses such as Chanel (Beige) and Hermès (Vanille Galante) were piling up and today Guerlain news join them.
We do cherish the opportunity to ponder on rumours in any case.
According to the very perceptive Kopah from Basenotes:

"It seems that the name of the next instalment in the L'Art et la Matière series may be Bois Torride. Guerlain filed an application for a European Community trademark for this name on June 4, 2008. (For the record, their applications for the names of the Elixirs Charnels/Carnal Elixirs were filed on April 28.) They have also recently filed applications for the script logo which appears above their shop at 68, Champs-Elysées, and for the phrase Guerlain, Une Ville, Un Parfum".

Since the same happened when we were speculating what the newest Serge Lutens would be (and it did prove to be Serge Noire and how lovely that one is!) , it would be safe to predict that in a few months' time, we could be graced with more news about the newest Guerlain launch: Bois Torride (torrid wood). Might it be too presumptuous to hypothesize that it would not be the torrid, fiery, fierce composition that its name would suggest? There seems to be some sort of betrayal between name and concept in the L'Art et la Matière line especially: Rose isn't very Barbare, Cuir Beluga is only marginally reminiscent of suede, Angelique is not nearly Noire, Iris Ganache is rather gourmand but not very iris-like and Cruel Gardénia is neither cruel, nor gardenia despite its big appeal (leaving only Bois d'Armenie in the line smelling faithfully like the French curiosity "Papier d'Armenie").
In fact it seems to me that this playful interaction between expectations on part of the customer and finished result is at the core of the line. It just can't be random! And if so it shows a wry sense of humour for which we smirk ourselves.

This could also shed light into the relation between Thierry Wasser and the latest masculine Guerlain Homme: official info wanted Wasser to be the house's head perfumer beginning June 2008. Since Guerlain Homme was issued last July and since Wasser was -predictably- amicably seen photographed with Jean Paul Guerlain, with whom he collaborated on the fragrance, it stands to reason that Wasser can't have been highly involved in its conceptualisation (of which Sylvaine Delacourte must be much more responsible being creative director) or execution. On the contrary it seems that he must have been intent on the projects that follow soon: the three Carnal Elixirs of course and the upcoming Bois Torride. It does seem like too much projects in so many months, nevertheless.
I am also reminding you that "torride" was previously linked to Givenchy (Eau Torride) with lukewarm results, so I am hoping that Guerlain will have cards up their sleeve. The gender of the fragrance might also be grounds for speculation, since although woody fragrances are traditionally masculine, they might put a spin and present it as a unisex in the manner of the other niche/exclusives circulating at the Boutique Guerlain. After all, most of us perfume lovers are uninihibited enough to wear what we like regardless of artificial cliches pertaining to gender.
We will find out around December 2009, if my calculations prove to be accurate.

On the other hand, the name Guerlain, Une Ville, Un Parfum sounds like a commemorative, special edition that should mark an anniversary or iconic landmark of the historical house's path to glory. I also see the bling factor of serious Baccarat packaging engraved with special touches that will ante up the price to stratosperical heights: A prospect that sheds a frisson of excitement through a collector's bloodstream and a trembling rattle into the wallet of many a Guerlain fan.
Alternatively it could just be an evocation of Paris in the way that Comme des Garcons has been inspired by characteristic places for their Incense Series. This time Paris being the place of inspiration, it can't fail but to bring to mind the cornucopia of scents we have come to expect from such a place and the grand tradition of French perfumery which Guerlain indeed evokes. This has the potential to be either heavenly or a complete and utter letdown given the tremendous magnitude of its mythos, so I am hoping that Thierry Wasser and Sylvaine Delacourt will be extra-attentive in how they go about it.

In any case, Guerlain has been harnessing the market in many inventive and marketing-perceptive ways lately and I am curious and excited to see what they will accomplish with these. We will report back with more as actual data unfolds in the following months.

Le Baiser du Hotel de Ville, 1950 Paris by Robert Doisneau courtesy of Amazon. Pic of Guerlain boutique, Paris, via the Perfume Bee.