Perfume Acting as a Time Capsule: Why We Will Forever Love What We Once Loved

It's an all too common observation with people I fragrance consult. "Tell me what perfumes you have enjoyed wearing in the past", I ask. They invariably reply with names of fragrances they wore when younger, like L'Air du Temps or Fidji or Dior's Farenheit; it varies. Young and older ones alike also love to reminiscence about things they loved in the turmoil of puberty, from Cacharel Loulou to CK one via Tatiana; I suppose it gives us a sense of nostalgia, a queer thrill of reliving a period of our lives when we were not so sure of certain things, innocent enough that we had faith before life bore its heavy blows crushing our dreams. Whether it was something cheap, brash or immature (Impulse body sprays anyone?) does not matter; the memory is there and the hold it has over our hearts reads like the delicious thrill we feel at the borderline segregating damnation from redemption. And because it is such a thin razor's edge, we continue our lives with a precarious, perverse pleasure derived from seeking for the elements we loved in every subsequent scent to be met, almost like a golden standard against which we judge everything that follows; the Mr.Darcy against which everyone else pales, the Heathcliff whose darkness embodies our secret yearnings, yearnings we have buried and mourned only on the surface. Yes, all too frequently the first fragrances we have loved remain our loves throughout our lives, unless perfume Nemesis -in the guise of allergens restrictions or business behemoths pennies-pinching- shutters the gilded foil and makes them unrecognizable. Only then can we continue to love them for what they once were; the seal of accepted, hard-earned maturity.

via indulgy.com

Contemplating what I just stated I realize "one's youth" is too restrictive. It's also rather inaccurate. "One's prime" is more like it when recalling a given fragrance with a pang of the heart. Shed a thought for my mother in law, for instance, who fondly associates with fragrances she wore in her mid-to-late 30s, because that's the time frame she held a glamorous job that involved international air travel, first class, all over the world. Or a good friend who wore  Gucci pour Homme (from 2003) in his 40s when courting his second wife who proved to be everything he had wished for the first time around. My first Serge Lutens bell jar was La Myrrhe and I was feeling on top of the world when I bought it; I still love it to bits.

Perfume itself is cyclical: like fashion (which famously can be so atrocious that it has to change every six months) it alters its key syntax to reflect a changing world with changing needs. This is why every decade of the 20th century has roughly had its own fragrance background, from the impressionistic scents of La Belle Epoque to the orientals of the 1920s (boosted by the success of Guerlain Shalimar), the advancement of floral aldehydic perfumes, the 1940s and 1950s feminine chypres deriving from the iconic Mitsouko, the hippie revolution with patchouli and musk, the career women of the 1980s with their strong aura of Poison, Obsession and Giorgio up till the 1990s and the watery ozonics exemplified by L'Eau d'Issey, Aqua di Gio and Light Blue and our current inundation of gourmand, sweet perfumes.
But even so generations remember what was the vogue in their formative years: The 40-somethings are still wearing Kenzo pour Homme from time to time and are crazy for Light Blue in the summer, whereas the 25-year-olds are all about the Coco Mademoiselle and Miss Dior (Cherie). The teenagers of today will come to form new associations, different from their elders.

In many ways perfume can act not only as an accurate reflection of the zeitgeist, but also as a time capsule. In fact, time capsule is the name of an actual fragrance, believe it or not. Such is the pull of the concept. No wonder advertising uses this technique, selling the past to the future, its referencing quality being retrospective. For every one of us a scent time capsule is deeply personal. Very often it not only includes the perfumes we have indulged in and felt elated in, but also the other scents we lived through: the stale pizza & fresh coffee brewing in the percolator that morning following a boozed out night waking up next to the object of our affection in our university years; the smell of the new apartment we came into with our first downpayment; the soft fur between the paws of a favorite pet now long gone; the nuzzling warmth of a baby's just slept jumper; the pleasure and the grief of lovemaking; the cold sickly chamber of a deathbed.

So indulge me, cast your mind back: Which are your own perfume time capsules? What period of your life do they capture or would you have liked to capture in something that can recall it for you on demand? I remember a glorious summer spent in the throes of young love, lapped by the waves of the Aegean, accompanied by Parfum d'Ete by Kenzo. The fragrance has since changed and the memory doesn't quite click. In the meantime my old bottle is drained empty, so I'm at a loss; this green floral didn't keep too well and old stock might therefore be rancid. Perfume by its own nature, you see, is destructive; once you spray it, the molecules have flown off their Pandora's box, they're dispersed, you simply can't put them back in. It shares with time that ephemeral, perishable quality which accounts for things of great beauty and great pain.

Repetto eau de toilette: fragrance review

Do ballerinas secretly stuff their lithe forms with cherry-pie flavored cupcakes? If models routinely consume tissue paper in order to satiate their hunger, as infamously stated by Australian Vogue ex-editor Kirstie Clemens, I'm willing to believe anything. Powdery woody florals are a direction that is ripe for the picking, judging by recent releases such as Love, Chloe, See by Chloe, Esprit d'Oscar, Burberry Body perfume and the like, but in Repetto the direction is tilting the scales into gourmand  fragrance nuances which seem incongruent with the associations we -involuntarily- make of dancers. Musky roses (with the odd white floral mixed in) with sweet nuances, reminiscent of such girly accessories as lip cosmetics, goose feather down and tutus, date at least as far back as Drole de Rose by L'Artisan Parfumeur (1996). Perhaps what seemed new then looks derivative now, but I wasn't wowed by the newest Repetto fragrance.

Maybe it is that the brand has such an iconic pull that you expect more, more, more. In this case, however, it was a clear case of wanting less, less, less.

via punmiris.com

The cult brand of ballerina shoes the world over is without doubt the French Repetto; not only have they decked everyone from Brigitte Bardot to Vanessa Paradis, they're prized for being as comfortable as wearing nothing on your feet without sacrificing style. Just in the space of last year Repetto has seen an increase of 20%, mainly outside France where the brand is a national standby (the company is also present in 60 countries), which highlights the enthusiastic reception that this classic Gallic brand is enjoying in the domain of luxury and export. Let it be said in passing that Japan is their second biggest market outside France and they're planning on opening a boutique Repetto in Shanghai, China in September 2013.

via meltyfashion.fr

After a spectacular development following the 1999 resurrection of the brand, founded in 1947 by Rose Repetto, costumer to the Opera, Repetto is launching their first feminine fragrance, developed with Interparfums who manage the uber-successful Burberry portfolio alongside many others. The perfumer chosen for the development of the fragrant jus is Olivier Polge, newly officially appointed to Chanel perfumes assisting his father Jacques Polge whose tenure dates since 1978.

"My goal was to create a handmade effect and bring together luxurious and authentic bases, suhc as powdery musky rose, which is the spirit of femininity. The result is a purified formula with essence of rose and vanilla", elaborates Olivier Polge. The fragrance also includes pear, cherry tree flowers and orange blossom notes, underscored by vanilla and amber woods.
The effect is powdery with the characteristic almond "fluffiness" of heliotrope and macaroons (if I were blindfolded and hadn't received info of the launch I would have pegged it as a Ladurée fragrance more than Repetto), soft, sweet with Frambinone, maybe rather heavy if you're sensitive to sweet notes like I am; heavy like an overweight ballerina in the unfair, politically incorrect world of classical dance where teachers are routinely drawing their nails along tender backs to make you stand straight. Could the Repetto-scented ballerina personification survive in that environment? Not if she shed her Dawrinian advantage, she would not...  But the crux of the matter is that Repetto isn't but a ghost of ballet. It is a brand divested of its reality, it's fantasy.

Whereas Michel Almariac chose to instill an inedible element into the scheme of the powdery musky floral in See by Chloe, opting for the bitter sheen of soap, even though the brand could do with sweetness, Polge, armed with his recent experience in La Vie Este Belle, looked into cupcakes. In fact cupcakes are part of the promotion of the fragrance (I kid you not!) In that regard, it sounds like sacrilege but Guerlain presented a better "contemporary taste" perfume with La Petite Robe Noire.

It's not required that wearers of Cabaret by Gres burst out in spontaneous songs by Patachou, but when the incongruence between brand, finished fragrance and market demographic is so diverse you have a fine mess in your hands.

Repetto eau de toilette is presented in eau de toilette concentration (39 euros for a 30ml spray bottle, 79 euros for 80ml), accompanied by a matching body lotion, while the bottle is adorned by a medallion on a pink ribbon like the one in the emblematic Carlota ballerina flat. The fact that the fragrance is inspired by ballet dancing is emphasized by keeping as ambassadress the star dancer Dorothée Gilbert (who claims “Le parfum Repetto a du poids, du charisme”). The signature fragrance hit French counters on Monday July 1st and is set to create buzz in the international market soon after.

Chronicles of a Destiny Foretold: Why Olivier Polge Was Set to Become Head Perfumer at Chanel Since Forever; a 3 Person Drama

No exaggeration to flat out suggest that Olivier Polge was set to claim head position at Chanel perfumes since birth. France is a conservative, traditionalist country. This is what most Americans lacking a connection to the European establishment fail to grasp, mentally conflating sophistication with progressiveness; it's all right having a country as soft as putty to mould as you wish in your hands, this is a luxury given to few. Coming from an equally traditionalist culture -to the point of ridiculous excess- I can realize that the news of Olivier Polge getting officially employed at Chanel parfums effective September 2013 (as a deputy, not head) has created a stir (and rendered me fatally bored of this meaningful head shot of Olivier reproduced everywhere), but I don't quite "get" it, to be honest! The gossip, the false statements ("Jacques Polge, father of Olivier, to relinquish his position as head perfumer at Chanel in favor of son" ~he denies it), the accusations of nepotism and the hush hush of connections or regionalism surpassing proven, already employed talent (Chris Sheldrake) are -to my mind- stemming mainly from this basic incomprehension. To me, Olivier Polge getting employed at Chanel were -to paraphrase Gabriel Garcia Marquez- chronicles of a destiny foretold. A fact just waiting to happen! The man was practically born with a Chanel spoon in his mouth, taking in mind Polge's tenure at Chanel dates back from1978!

wwd.com

Let's consider the following facts.

Gosses de stars, roughly translating as "stars' kids", is a widespread phenomenon in France. From Charlotte Gainsbourg and Kate Birkin-Barry to Philippe Zitron, Marie Trintignant, Cloclo Junior and countless others, Olivier Polge doesn't feel like a fish out of water in a society where the kids given a head-start thanks to their well-known parents do not feel clumped down as a rule (there are exceptions to that of course, see the Depardieus).

Come to think of it (influenced by our own ridiculously nepotistic society, shame on me), kids follow in the footsteps of parents and elders all the time. Especially when it comes to profession choices.

"My father was very encouraging when I decided to attend perfumery school because I started out studying art. I believe somewhere in his heart he hoped I would follow in his footsteps, as most parents do. He taught me to follow my dreams and passions in life. He also taught me that instinct is important in creating a fragrance" claims Olivier Polge in a 2012 interview on Makeup.com. 

Olivier has been working at IFF since 1998. He even won awards. And with artistic triumphs like Dior Homme or Spicebomb and best-sellers like Flowerbomb, Alien or Balenciaga Paris under his belt (we can allow Lancome's La Vie est Belle languish a bit and I will trash his Repetto eau de toilette tomorrow...), who can blame him? Jacques Helleu, iconic artistic director of Chanel, now singing with the angels in heaven, was also the son of someone within the company: his father Jean Helleu, also artistic director for parfums Chanel.  More specifically perfumery is wrought with families passing the baton on and on and on and on....the Guichards, the Roudnitskas, the Ellenas, the Roberts (Guy Robert and clan) and countless others.

Jacques Polge is revealing another facet of the son's progress and the timeline is most intriguing:

'Despite Polge's pessimism about the future, however, he has been unable to deter his 23 year old [ed.note:at the time] son Olivier from wanting to follow in his father's (how should one put it?) - footsteps. "I tried to talk him out of it", Polge confesses. "But then I thought about it and concluded that I didn't have the right to do any such thing. I can't say that I will be able to make a great nose out of him. That's impossible. But of course I hope that one day he too will become the nose of Chanel. Because for someone passionate about perfumes, there really is no better position in the world." [the quote comes from a 2004 interview on Art of Smell]

It would be interesting to wonder whether Jacques, whose son is a fellow art history major, considered this with a typical middle-class Gallic shiver and eventually came to view that perfumery would be the lesser of two evils, art history being almost a guarantee of being jobless and penniless. (Part of traditionalism is the appreciation of a spending income). This would nicely coincide with the timing of Jacques's statements.

wwd.com

Last but not least, in every business, but even more so at Chanel, the transition from one status quo to another takes time. In the words of Christine Dagousset, the new Chanel Global President for Fragrance and Beauté, this could be called "Chanel time". Usually this takes 2 years (Maureen Chiquet has had 2 years to Global CEO, Christine Dagousset is also given a comparable time and Jacques Polge will also have 2 years before giving the baton, I bet, so his denial of retirement come September 2013 is certainly not inaccurate!)
The official blurb stated "Jacques Polge will continue to exercise until Olivier Polge takes his place as Chanel Perfumes Creator. Olivier Polge will officially start working with Chanel next September."[Chanel press release]

But consider this for a minute: "why now?" 

Monsieur Jacques Polge has technically reached an arc in his tenure, having completed most -if not all- foreseeably major long-term projects: the reinterpretations of No. 5 (Eau Premiere), Cristalle (Cristalle Eau Verte), Chanel No. 19 (No.19 Poudre), Coco (Coco Noir and of course Coco Mademoiselle), the celebration of the 80th anniversary of Chanel Haute Joaillerie with "1932" fragrance (Les Exclusifs), and with Chanel les Exclusifs being an established collection by now. The last new fragrance pillar for ladies, Chance, was launched in 2002! There would have been a pressure now to define the women of this decade as the next long-term project, and I very much doubt, after that lost Chanel fragrance, the Chanel owners would settle. The timing was also very well calculated: Madame Dagousset wouldn't formally take over until January 2015, the perfect time in the meanwhile to train Olivier further and formally integrate him into the brand.

hauteliving.com

And where does this leave deputy perfumer Chris Sheldrake? The perfumes created ever since the call back on Chris a few years ago (his alma mater had been Chanel in the 1980s before being snitched for a stint chez Serge Lutens) have all been solely credited to Jacques Polge, as head perfumer. Additionally Polge, as attested by Christopher himself in an interview, personally phoned Chris Sheldrake after LVMH poached Francois Demachy. Hiring an Australian a British [edit: I'm not 100% sure, a reader corrected me and evidence so far indicates so] as deputy instead of a Frenchman was a move that superficially negated regionalism but more deeply foreshadowed other developments, perhaps in the works for several years.

 I will leave you with a Parthian shot: The supposition whether the newer perfumes' "communicability" (to put a more gentle mantle on their commercialized appeal) was a deliberate aesthetic choice not only imposed by the marketing and business development departments but stemming from people working within the perfume development to facilitate the transitory route from older to younger (and into the gourmand, sweet notes that Olivier is especially fond of, as he admits) is better left for the no doubt fertile imagination of my readers...I welcome your wise commentary.

Madeleine, a Smell Camera: Capture the Scents you Want with High Technology

Wouldn't it be wonderful to have had the smell of your beloved's hair captured into more than a curl-containing locket dangling from your neck? What about your dearly departed terrier, his fluffy paws and the buttery spot between his ears? And isn't the smell of Coppertone and barbeque and fat crabs in sauce the perfect memento of a summer spent vacationing off Cape Cod, washing over you like solace on a grey winter's day when everything seems dross and bleak? The way of high technology has looked like the final frontier to pin down smells, those most elusive sensual stimuli, escaping us in the destructive process that is smelling them (you inhale, they vanish soon after). Other posts in these pages have announced similar projects about capturing or transmitting smells via pixelized forms, but the Madeleine, an odor camera that captures the ambience around the object source, is named after the famous spontaneous memory brought over by the namesake dessert to French author Marcel Proust when he was tasting linded tea and the famous reminiscence he recounted in his "A la recherche du temps perdu". The Madeleine, with use in the perfume industry, aims to capture any scentscape and to inform via the most subliminal and potent sense of all: smell.



"Created by designer Amy Radcliffe, Madeleine is an “analog odor camera” based off so-called ‘Headspace Capture,’ a technology developed for the perfume industry to analyze and recreate the odor compounds that surround various objects. When a smell source is placed under the device’s glass cone, a pump extracts the smell via a plastic tube. After being drawn to Madeleine’s main unit, the smell goes through a resin trap which absorbs the particles so molecular information can be recorded. That data is expressed in a graph-like formula, which essentially contains a fingerprint of the smell. In a special lab, that formula can then be inscribed on a bronze disk to artificially reproduce the smell. The smell can also be recreated in small vials." [source]

So given the choice: What smells would you capture and recreate through this wonderful new gadget?

Special thanks to Trudie W. for alerting me to the news of this new gizmo!

Miss Perfumado: Assim dxam morrê ô flor (Let me die in this way, my flower)

Let me die dreaming
Under the vigil of sad eyes
Of a kind young lady
With a sweet-scented body
Let me die in this way, my flower
Under the shade of your gentle little eyes
Let me die dreaming
Like a dove into her nest
If the dove is happy in her nest
So am I, under the look
And the caresses from
This sweet-scented miss.

Miss Perfumado, Portuguese fado sung by Cesária Évora, translated in English.