31 Rue Cambon from Chanel Les Exclusifs: fragrance review

The Chanel perfume from the line Les Exclusifs that goes by the address tag 31 Rue Cambon is named after Chanel's main boutique in Paris and also the day-time appartment above it that she used as a study and reception room for friends.
The contrast between the baroque apartment and the more austere composition of this scent is intentional according to Jacques Polge who created it, as he did with the whole new line.

31 Rue Cambon is an experimental chypre that omits the classic oakmoss note of the standard chypre composition and is touted as a "dry, musky, nutty scent." I think Serge Lutens tried a similar stunt with his Chypre Rouge, last autumn, which does not smell particularly chypre to me.
Here the formula starts indeed with a dry element that is sparkling and radiant. The substitution of oakmoss has resulted in a novel iris-pepper accord that according to dr.Turin is used here for the first time to render the impression of sensuality and powderiness that would normally be provided by the sensual backdrop of oakmoss and married to different batches of patchouli for the mossy feel. According to an interview of Polge in French paper Le Figaro, Polge is not a great fan of oakmoss anyway, because he finds the smell bitter. A self-proclaimed oriental lover, mr.Polge had to search for exotic varieties of patchouli growth to substitute the moss element that is needed in a chypre composition and came up with a new style. Which is not really chypre smelling either. In fact I would call it a chypre-oriental, if pressed to classify it and you will see why as you proceed.

The green spicy burst at the start gives way to softer accents following the herbal notes and the bergamot-rich top. The iris note here is neither earthy nor ethereal, as we’re sometimes used to perceiving it. Instead it hangs there twisting and turning in little waltz quick steps with the spiciness of the first olfactory hits when you spray the juice to your skin. The piquancy of pepper is very welcome and never overwhelming which suggests a restrained hand.
As it stays on it starts to develop more powdery and flowery aspects like –seemingly- hyacinth with rose and jasmine that remind us of the traditional heart of a classic chypre, yet the whole is based on a woody ambience of sandalwood and possibly amber that reminds me a lot of the soft sweetish echo of other perfumes in the line, like
28 La Pausa and Coromandel. Despite their initial claim that “we tried to do fragrances which are very different from one another” I think they also tried to lend a homogenous quality in them that would identify them as Chanel. I don’t think that could be very doable in so diverse a collection, but it does have familiarity with those and with other Chanels,as discussed before.
The lingering base of patchouli is as far away from headshop and earthy varieties as possible and certainly less pronounced than in Coromandel which seems a little more current and sensual in feeling.
In fact 31 Rue Cambon is quite Chanel in style as it aims at timelessness and probably the most elegant of the new lot.
Maybe because of those elements of wood and amber the lasting power in this one is not bad. It’s definitely not fleeting like the green fairy of Bel Respiro or the pretty posy of 28 La Pausa, but then it isn’t as satisfyingly lasting as Coromandel either, which is a pity.

The general effect is slightly aloof and certainly elegant, which will account for its marked success with people shopping Chanel and wanting to complement their expensive clothing and accessories with something fragrant in completely magnetic bottles (and I utter that last bit both figuratively -as the caps close magnetically- and figuratively).
Whether it is the best chypre in the last 30 years, as it had been initially hailed almost a month ago, remains to be judged upon subsequent applications and the test of time. I think it was rather an ambitious claim to begin with.


Art photography by Chris Borgman courtesy of his site.

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.

No.18 from Chanel Les Exclusifs: fragrance review

When I fist heard about the new line by Chanel, officially termed Les Exclusifs, or affectionately termed Les Prétentieux, the one which I was most in anticipation of was no.18. Named after the number of the Chanel fine jewelry boutique at Place Vendôme it is a scent based on ambrette seed , a vegetal and very costly ingredient that natural perfumers use for substituting real and synthetic musk in their perfumes.
I had envisioned a whole scenario of soft smooth aromas in my mind, lured by the promise of musk that is one of my top favourite notes in creation in most of its nuances and incarnations. Not even the prophet Muhhamad has been so entranced by the promise of musk as I have!

However my impression of ambrette seed largely derives from the oil distilled and the absolute used in perfumes which I have had the rare pleasure of smelling and not the unshelled variety of the seed which I later found out goes into the production of no.18.
Hibiscus Abelmuschus, aka ambrette seed, is a plant of the hibiscus family whose names derives from the Greek ibis (a kind of bird that supposedly eats it) and the Arabic Kabbel-Misk (which means grain of musk). Usually the seeds of the plant when they “hatch” are pressed for their precious oil which takes on a soft, sweetish, skin-like aroma. According to Mandy Aftel the smell is sweet, rich, floral and musky all at once.

Imagine my surprise and dare I say a little disillusionment when I actually got my decant and sprayed the precious juice on my skin. An acrid, pungent smell first hit me that was not the richness and powderiness I anticipated so eagerly.
In fact it reminded me of an anecdotal story I want to share with you. While still little I had a penchant for mixing brews and potions and generally messing with spices, aromas, pomades and yes, perfumes. I found the whole concept of it fascinating and wanted to see how different smells could be combined and nuanced. Spices and cooking are a logical introduction and having been blessed with a mother who cooked well and kept a lot of interesting stuff in the kitchen cupboards I took them out one by one and started experimenting. Once it was the cloves: crushing them, then burning them (they do produce a different, very smoky aromatic sweet smell when burned). Then the pimento and saffron: experimenting with boiling them or immersing them in oil like I had seen women do with basil, rosemary and thyme for aromatizing olive oil (and yes, this is a valid practice that produces mouthwatering results). The stage that really did me in was mace. It was a spice I loved sprinkled on creams and cookies and in meat dishes. It gave a rich oriental, middle-eastern flavour to everything and I loved its ambience. Little did I know that upon burning the unshelled nut in the fireplace (which is quite a hard light brown one) the pungent smell would pervade the house to a point of suffocation and produce fumes that would take eons to clear out rendering my parents furious at me and me nauseous of that smell for life.

Sadly, it was that bitter childhood memory that the initial impression of burned pickles emanating from my no.18 sprayer produced in me. Of course I might be exaggerating because the effect is not nearly as strong as all that, although the whole scent is obviously orchestrated around the solo violin player of ambrette seed, there is no doubt about that.
The effect is certainly not ordinary at all and it only bears a slight resemblance to some oudh fragrances I have smelled and the likeable weirdness of Timbuktu by L’artisan Parfumeur.
Maybe this is an omphaloscopic post and I am analyzing this too much. The point is this medicinal, strange element deterred me from appreciating the full spectrum and possible beauty of no.18. I braced myself for the development, which soon came in the form of sweetish woody and fruity notes of a non-descript nature that in my humble opinion deter from the more daring opening that although repulsive to me personally due to the associations might be a strong pull to people who are interested in the adventurous, distinctive and different. The base is also a little synthetic smelling as if the natural aspect of ambrette seed is anchored with materials invented wearing a white robe, which is a bit antithetical to the promise of a rich vegetal smell.
The modernization of the concept so that it would not recall a natural artisanal perfume, but one issued by a pedigree great house does not work to its favour I think.

Jacques Polge has revealed in an interview that this is his favourite of the line-up and I can see how a person who doesn’t like oakmoss (as discussed before) and is an oriental lover would prefer this. It is certainly the most innovative of the lot and I dearly wish I had the virginal mental and olfactory make-up to really appreciate no.18. As it is, I am unfortunately unable to. It would be like uprooting a mighty tree out of my brain.




Art photography by Chris Borgman courtesy of his site.

28 La Pausa from Chanel Les exclusifs: fragrance review

As promised I start the week by reviewing in full the new Chanels, Les exclusifs.
You might have been a little bored by reading about them on the blogs by now, but I want to offer a tempered view that is completely no strings attached for the interest of balance.


Let’s start by 28 La Pausa.
According to the advertorial it is "a powdery scent based on the oil from iris pallida (known as sweet iris), one of the most expensive products available to perfumers..." and "named for a house Mlle.Chanel owned in the South of France” namely the villa on Roquebrune-Cap-Martin on the French Riviera.
Iris seems to be the one constant in niche perfumers’ obsession with coming up with rare and costly ingredients, and as iris/orris is currently the costliest ingredient to harvest this makes sense. After all someone had said before that everyone in the business wants to make a perfect leather, a perfect incense and a perfect iris scent. Seems to be de rigueur for some reason.
And judging by the issued offerings by Armani Privé, Lutens for Palais Royal Shiseido, The Different Company, Fréderic Malle or even more “commercial” products such as Dior Homme or Hiris by Hermès, iris features prominently on the stakes.
Iris is not just a flower. She is a goddess in the greek mythology pantheon, daughter of the Titan Thaumas and the Ocean nymph Electra, messenger of the Gods and goddess of the rainbow whose colour spectrum is not coincidentally called iris in greek, hence the English term iridescence and the same as the part of your eye that mesmerises with its coloured nuances.


The real question is does 28 La Pausa offer the excitement necessary and the sheer beauty expected from the definitive iris scent? Because this is how the collection has been presented and lauded and we need to check if those claims are met.
The answer is two fold.

If Iris Silver Mist by Maurice Roucel is a crepuscular -if a bit difficult- creation of sheer chill and carroty bulb undergrowth and Bois d’iris is a slightly spicy green heavier silk, 28 La Pausa is a gauzy white cloth that barely covers but lets sweet pale flesh peek from underneath.
The earthiness of bulb undergrowth is there along with a sweeter development as the very light composition progresses through its stages exiting rather soon.
A very light touch of violet is lending a green and very soft quality along with a sweetish fruity tone while some version of synthetic white musk (similar to the feel of the drydown of Pleasures) is lurking underneath assisting the view of exposed skin as described above. It is in fact mostly reminiscent of the lovely Hiris by nose Olivia Giacometti, a hybrid between flesh and flower. Which really begs the question why get both…

On the other hand if what you’re seeking is simply a wearable iris in a killer stylish bottle with exclusivity cachet, this is it; which unfortunately breaks the bubble of the innovative and groundbreaking. Simply put the soul does not soar upon smelling this if you have smelled other similar renditions, even though admittedly it’s one of the nicest ones in the new line and completely agreeable and approachable. Polge is a perfumer not best known for his highly controversial work anyway, taking into account he is responsible for some of the more mainstream Chanel fragrances created such as Coco Mademoiselle,Chance and Allure Sensuelle (although one has to credit him for the creation of the wonderful Egoiste!)and here he smoothed iris beautifully, however rendering the whole a bit derivative and déjà vu, which is the major fault of the whole Exclusives line in my humble opinion.

28 La Pausa includes elements already found in the much more distinctive Chanel #19, a work of art by Henri Robert in 1970 that is assuredly more opinionated and bracing. Perhaps its fate is sealed if they keep releasing things that temper its audacious aspect and its truly insolent character of crisp white linen shirt and lots of silver bangles on a carefree day with your hair down. This would personally pain me a lot, especially since the news about oakmoss featuring as a dangerous substance almost compared to illegal drugs one might think is any ground to go upon. Hopefully they will not substitute it with 28 La Pausa and another Chanel Exclusif, Bel Respiro, both of which draw inspiration from their predecessor's elegant green bouquet.

So, if you want to have a beautiful Degas ballerina in your collection, look no further. If on the other hand you’re moved by more challenging Goya images, this will not fulfil your expectations sadly.

Artwork by Mary Beth Schwark courtesy of allposters.com

Guerlain Arsene Lupin Dandy: fragrance review & draw

It's probably not strange, but certainly unexpected, that a figure with retro connotations such as comte Robert de Montesquiou-Fézensac (who inspired not only Marcel Proust but also Joris-Karl Huysmans) should come out of a recent batch bottle of a Guerlain fragrance! Yet this is what happened when I tested Arsène Lupin Dandy, a scent that intrigued me for a long time before I put my thoughts into black & white.

(EDITOR's ADDITION: Please NB, due to ensuing legal disputes with L'Orsay who also have a Le Dandy fragrance, Guerlain has since dropped the Dandy from the name and now this is available as simply Arsène Lupin. The rest of the review mentions it with its older, longer name as that is what it was launched with at time of writing)


Given Jean Paul Guerlain's unfortunate recent comments and the futore which ensued, it's doubtful that we'll see another fragrance bearing his signature in the future. More's the pity, because amongst great perfumers of the 20th century, alongside his ascendant Jacques Guerlain of course, Ernest Beaux and Edmond Roudnitska, he certainly takes a place in the pantheon. Arsène Lupin Dandy, infiltrates Les Parfums Exclusifs, joined by Arsène Lupin Voyou, both in Eau de Parfum like the double face of Janus, and some of the other exclusive masculines (details here), is indeed a swan song of infinite grace and refined luxury. Much like some of Jean-Paul's best creations of his "golden years" such as Vétiver pour homme, Chamade, Habit Rouge (not Sport) and Chant d'Arômes , Dandy manages to exude richness without heaviness and luxury without one iota of vulgarity. This is how Guerlain ought to be constantly! Preferably in the mainstream sector as well.

Jean Paul collaborated, according to his own testimony, with in-house Guerlain perfumer Thierry Wasser to whom he passed the baton, on the two new masculine releases in their teak-wood-edged bottles. We will probably never find out the exact truth (especially given the two releases smell completely different and as if arrived at by different mentalities), so it's futile to press the point. Of the two fragrances, Dandy easily is the standout; the reason isn't hard to see.

Within this contemporary light woody chypre one can detect the emblematic character of 1920's & 1930's fragrances that made the reputation of Guerlain Parfumeur, such as Sous Le Vent (which which it shares the bitter green tinge of galbanum and the overall chypre elements, although it substitutes the murkiness of oakmoss with the quite different treemoss alongside patchouli and probably a smidge of vetiver). But it's also a modern enough accord to be featured in Martin Margiela's Untitled! The "nose" is reworking the best elements in the Guerlain tradition into formulae that are completely modern and can stand on their own in today's market.

Dandy is a grey suede leather which opens dark only to reveal lovely powdery nuances derived through ionones (floral violet & iris notes) and some spice later, very finely worked and flanked by patchouli and a resinous incense note. The citric aspects of the olibanum (frankincense) are complimentary to the hesperidic notes, which have a pleasantly restrained bitterish tinge, much like bergamot "spoon sweet" is the nicest to consume (same with sour cherry) because the natural tanginess of the fruit offsets the sugary aspects. The same effect is witnessed in maple suryp, which also has a passing resemblance with the resinous note in Dandy. The leather accord, immediately perceptible from the start, is in reality soft, maleable, velvety, echoing the suaveness of the literary character who inspired it. The literary character Arsène Lupin began his fictional life in 1905 (under "Lopin", until a namesake politician protested), smack-right into La Belle Epoque; an enigmatic figure in black-tie respendid with white gloves, a cape and a monocle, relieving the haute-bourgeoisie of their money, which seems like the perfect analogy for the clients of Guerlain Exclusifs!
The spices on the other hand (peppery bay and cardamom) provide a piquant tongue-in-cheek touch, fanned over the more predictable musk & light amber/labdanum impression of the far drydown, denoting the idea of a delicate "skin scent". The fragrance reads as a ballad of binary form.

For all its underlying complexity, appreciated through repeated wearings by both men and women who can snatch this easily for themselves, Arsène Lupin Dandy is a scent that does not proclaim its intricasies up front and keeps a cultivated air of mystery in the very best Voltaire tradition.

Notes for Guerlain Arsène Lupin Le Dandy: bergamot, bigarade, pink peppercorn, cardamom, violet, sandalwood, patchouli, cistus, olibanum.

For our readers a draw of a small decant out of my own stash: Say in the comments which is your favourite Guerlain fragrance and why and I will pick a random winner. Draw is now closed, thank you!

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Guerlain news & reviews, Top 10 Memorable Masculines

Painting of French poet, writer and dandy, Robert de Montesquiou (1855-1921) in 1897. Portrait by Giovanni Boldini (1842-1931) via wikimedia commons.

Mathilde Laurent Responds to Perfume Shrine's Questions (& a little on Cartier Les Heures du Parfum)

Most of you are familiar with Mathilde Laurent through her early work at Guerlain, when as a young graduate of ISIPCA, under the aegis of Jean Paul Guerlain she created her modern epics, faithful to the patrimony of papa Jacques: Her Guet Apens (later re-issued as Attrape Coeur, the whole entangled story can be read on this link) is one of the most celebrated "new Guerlains" among cognoscenti, in the degree that it reflects a true Guerlain character, yet is resolutely of its own era.

Her Shalimar Eau Légère, reviewed and cherised on these pages, is another one which takes the best of tradition and injects it with the saturated hues and bold lines of a contemporary Francis Bacon painting. Like her artistic idol Camille Claudel ~as divulged to Marian Bendeth on a Basenotes project last year~ Mathilde appreciates modernity coupled with sensitivity and creativity.
Pamplelune with its sunny grapefruit side is, surprisingly enough for its daring sulfurous mien, still a Guerlain best-seller and one of two Aqua Allegorias (a sub-line in the Guerlain portfolio with lighter, less complex scents) which has remained in production ever since introduction of the line, the other being Herba Fresca with its surprising take on mint. (Her other creations in the Aqua Allegoria line included Ylang et Vanille and Rosa Magnifica) At some point, Mathilde Laurent left Guerlain to spread her wings unto greener pastures, including a brief stint at jeweler André Gas in 2006 (for the Polynesian tropical scent Ensoleille-Moi) and the current in-house perfumer position at the venerable Cartier headquarters, where she is composing bespoke scents (Sources place the price for juice to last 3-5 years up to 60,000 euros or $75,500). Her masculine, (again) mint-ladden Roadster for the mainstream jewellery house release last year has graced our pages and was considered a successful entry, poised most wisely between commerciability and artistic merit. Mathilde's talent is undisputed, her desire and ambition to compliment the art of perfumery with a decisive and landmarking contribution nevertheless is laudable. For her "perfume is a message, an expression of oneself" and a perfumer is "a sillagiste!"

I took the invitation that Elisa de Feydeau kindly opened for her francophone readers and asked Mathilde a couple of questions which she was most gracious to reply to. For the benefit of our English-speaking readers, here are her answers.

My first question had to do with something I had read in Perfumes, the Guide, a quote by Luca Turin in his Pamplelune review, in which he equated Laurent's turning to bespoke perfumery to "the saddest waste of human talent since Rimbaud decided to study engineering" (If this isn't praise, I don't know what is!). I was wondering whether the foreboding feeling created by this remark in my mind had come to a reversal through the new line Les Heures du Parfum for Cartier (a high-end project more on which below) and whether she was hopeful that the new line would open a dialogue between herself and perfume lovers; those Others beyond the scope of the mega-rich who have the means to order their very own perfume. After all, as revealed by Jean Claude Ellena to us before, custom perfumery runs the risk of inadvertdly "deceiving" the customer.

Mathilde Laurent herself had explained the bespoke process in the past in very clear terms: "Together (with the client), we explore scents associated with meaningful life experiences, from pleasant childhood recollections to a present image the client wishes to project. We transpose the Cartier style, a perfectly studied simplicity, into the scent. Just a few carefully selected high-grade ingredients are blended, so that each essence remains distinctive, not lost in a hazy combination." In the pursuit of good materials, she's relentless: "I look for the truly exceptional, the atypical, the never-before-seen" (The floral extracts used cost about $5,000 per kilogram, or $142 per ounce). "The provenance of the flower, its rarity where it was bred, the manner of extracting its essence, the climatic conditions that year, all are taken into account."
In hindsight Mathilde appreciates Luca Turin's accolades enormously: "He was among the first to support me and encourage me". She terms the bespoke service "a step, a detour in order to get someplace else". "I could never imagine not creating for The Others", she reveals, although she's quick to point out that "bespoke perfumery is for me a wonderful means to be close to those who love and wear perfume and to push the envelope regarding experimentation on new accords, to test and increase one's creativity and one's technique. Bespoke perfumery acts as a complimentary course for me, it nourishes my work on other projects. I hope that Cartier's Les Heures du Parfum will generate a dialogue with people wearing them, since for me perfume is a message that the skin diffuses, I am always interested in expression, perfume is always destined for the Other".

Another issue that is burning perfume lovers and the industry itself with the intensity of a surgical laser is the pressing issue of restrictions on perfumery ingredients. (You can read a recap and personal thoughts with a minimum of emotional sidekicks on this link and on that one). Mathilde Laurent proved to me to be both practical and wise: "Regarding the perfumery materials which are restricted from our palette, I pretend they never existed. Nevertheless, I continue to search for the effect they present, even though it might be considered a tad Utopian; to substitute with other ingredients and combinations. One must always start from scratch and search, search...Having "come of age" at Guerlain however {she started apprenticeship there at the tender age of 23, going to exotic places and learning about ingredients with the very best} I have intimately known all of those precious materials before they were rationed and their effect has most definitely marked me. I do keep them in memory, always!" Hopefully, with creative minds such as Mathilde's, even the parsimonious palette of essences that is left to perfumers can take a new shape and be utilized in a novel syntax that have been left unatttured till now. The future is here and it is brave!
As to her own pleasure, Mathilde has left herself to be seduced by her latest creation for Cartier XIII La Treizième Heure, a smoky leathery composition, even though she declares she never wears perfume on her free time (Her other rare ~she stresses~ indulgunce is Guet Apens). After all, she hopes to instigate a discourse, not a monologue, and I hope she will always succeed in doing that!

Les Heures du Parfum by Cartier are set to be 13 fragrances in the "neo-niche" mold of luxury brands such as Chanel Les Exclusifs, Hermessences, boutique Guerlain scents, Armani Prive, Van Cleef & Arpels etc. (material-oriented compositions, uniform bottles, limited distribution). Cartier touts them as 'one really haute collection of fragrances for connoisseurs' to commemorate . The scents take on Latin numbers instead of names to reflect the digits on the famous Cartier watches, plus a lucky number thirteen in honour of the number of la maison Cartier's first address at 13 Rue de la Paix in Paris. They are to be spaced out in a period of a few years. The first five are coming out this November on the 10th in 35 Cartier boutiques all around the world. Eau de Parfum in 75 ml flacons for 250 dollars (Chayaruchama told me they're already at Saks in New York City, so New Yorkers take note and report back!).

Fragrance Notes for Les Heures du Parfum according to Grain de Musc (who got them straight from the horse's mouth and is enthused):

I – L’Heure Promise (The promised hour): a green iris with petitgrain, fresh herbs, sandalwood and musk.
VI – L’Heure Brillante (The shining hour): a bright aldehydic citrus cocktail with lemon, lime and a gin accord. X – L’Heure Folle (The crazy hour): an aldehydic fruity green with redcurrant, pink pepper, grenadine (pomegranate syrup), blueberry, blackcurrant, blackberry, violet, leafy notes, ivy, boxwood, shiso, polygonum (=knotweed)
XII – L’Heure Mystérieuse (The mysterious hour): a woody floral with jasmine, patchouli, elemi, coriander, incense, olibanum, juniper.
XIII -La Treizième Heure (The 13th hour): a sweet leather with maté tea, birch tar, narcissus, bergamot, patchouli and vanilla.

Portrait of Mathilde Laurent via Basenotes, images4.hiboox.com and luxuryculture, Cartier bottles via punmiris.com

Articles in the Press focusing on scent

This is a reference index of articles concerning smell appearing in the press which I have amassed through various sources. Parentheses are mine giving the focus of the article.


General Interest

A message in a bottle (perfume packaging) from Newsweek
A pungent puzzle (how language lacks scent vocabulary) from The Globe and Mail
Aveda, the problem with common scents (perfumer Ko-Ichi Shiozawa's quest for organic materials) in Science Daily
Bacteria Manage Perfume Oil Production From Grass (how bacteria aid in the production of vetiver oil) from Science Daily.
Beauty: the new weight of scent (trend towards solids) from Newsweek
Body Odors Individual as Fingerprints (60-Second Science podcast explaining how our natural smell is detectable underneath it all) at Scientific American.
Bottling your own personal smell (custom-made perfume and those who do it) from Newsweek
Catherine Deneuve and scent (she reveals her tastes) from Times Online
Common Scents (a new book tells you why sniffing pastries can make you nicer) from Newsweek Could perfume be the recession antidote? (a little pick-me up in hard times) from Times Online
Food and Flavour (how the two combine) from Foodarts
Giacomo's Scent (the celebrity scent of a horse!) from Newsweek
Italian scents (homage to Italian perfumery) from Osmoz
Let us spray (the animalic and dirty smells in perfume) from the Guardian
London shopping for perfume (the seven places you shouldn't miss) from the Guardian
Love Sskews your sense of smell from the New Scientist
Madagascar scents (the smells of Nosy Be island on the north of Madagascar) from MSNBC
Mysterious sweet smell from 2005 returns to Manhattan (the smell of maple suryp from a nearby company) from NY Times
Natural perfumery (natural perfumes and the Anya McCoy enterprise) from eworldwire
New scents crowd thriving perfume field (the super-exclusive one-off scents from L'artisan) from the International Herald Tribune.
Perfume: Start making scents (the focus on perfumes is escalating) from Newsweek
Return to Luxury from Times Online
Samurai (Home fragrances) on the NY Times
Scents and Personalities (an explanation of what your perfume says for you by Marian Bendeth, fragrance expert) from Lifewise Beauty
Scentimental France (Marian Bendeth explains her memories and impressions) from Basenotes
Scent of a man (Women rate masculine fragrances)in the Times Online
Scents of the city (Grasse perfume industry) from Newsweek
Smells Good (Turin and Sanchez pick women's perfumes from the holidays 2008) from Times Online
Smelly Masterpieces (a review of Perfumes, the Guide, giving a glimpse to the bean counters in Zurich and Paris) from Times Online
Solid scents that can last (on the trend of solids) from Newsweek
Taking a front seat (the case of a woman becoming a professional driver and how people respond to her perfume) from Newsweek
The Gift I never Want (why perfume giving isn't always a good idea) from the Atlanta Journal Constitution
The Good Life (Grasse history and operations today) from Newsweek
The Scent of a man (fragrance alters the way we view ourselves and thus how we are perceived) from The Economist
The Smell of Fear is Real (how it's not a myth according to scientists) from the Guardian
To bee or not to bee (bee repellants and scents affecting them) from Newsweek
Travel: Tours with a slice of sugar and spice (scented travelling guide) from Newsweek
Unisex Fragrances from the Times Online
Vintage fragrances en vogue from the Financial Times
Which Chanel perfume should you wear? (Marian Bendeth tackles Les Exclusifs) from Canadian Living
World Perfumery Congress Cannes from Time Magazine

Historical

Chanel and Rallet from Perfumer & Flavorist magazine
Francois Coty from the New Yorker archives (article from 1930)
Fragrance of the Pharaohs (Nenufar and the collection by David Pybus) from Newsweek
Joan of Arc and the forgeries of her relics (science debunks the forgery when Patou and Guerlain noses detect vanillin) from Lifestyle Extra UK
Inconvenient woman (on Mary Magdalene) from Newsweek
Questions in Qumran (archaeological discoveries regarding the ascetic Esenes Jews) from Newsweek
Perfume vials from the time of Jesus unearthed from MSNBC
Staying in the Saddle (the Hermes house history) from Newsweek
Terrasanta (on discovering terracotta pots with ancient ungunts from 1stcentury AD)-in Italian
Woman's best friend (the story of Lalique) from Newsweek

Interviews
Catherine Deneueve from Times Online
François Demachy (Senior Vice President for Olfactive Development at Louis Vuitton Moët Hennessy) talks to ShinyGloss about the early days.
Jean Claude Ellena : Conjuring Paradise, from LA Times
Jacques Polge (on Chanel archives and re-issues) from the Living Scotsman
Roja Dove (on luxury and forgotten scents) from the Living Scotsman
Serge Lutens: l'etat de l'art from Osmoz
Victoria Beckham ("not sure everyone would want to smell like me") from Bang/Sweden.real.com

Miscellaneous
An alluring Perfume (on the film Perfume the story of a murderer) from Newsweek
Can certain hairstyles and smells make a headache worse? from Newsweek
Christian Lacroix brand takeover from Newsweek
Franken-tomato (genetically manipulated tomato exhibit different scent) from Newsweek
French company denied strawberry trademark from BBC
It's all in the bottle (the spirits business influenced by the perfume business) from Newsweek
Highlights and exclusives (luxury market watch) from Newsweek
Luxury for a little less (ideas in the middle of recession) from Newsweek
Organic Art Spoils the Pleasure of Patrons (artist Jan Fabre's installation at the exhibit COLLECTIE XXIII, which runs through 4/1 at the MuHKA.be museum in Antwerp) from the Washington Post
Tip sheet (traveling by rail allows you to engulf your senses) from Newswek
The sweet smell of success (Lisa Price, founder of Carol's Daughter) from Newsweek
Truly, madly, deeply (the Theresa Duncan case, author, cinematographer and blogger) from Newsweek
What does the moon smell like? (Apollo 16 pilots reveal) from Boing Boing.Net

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 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.

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)

Cuir de Russie by Chanel: fragrance review and history

Whenever I think of Cuir de Russie by Chanel I think of a particular place and a woman I once saw. She is of Slavic features, quite old and she must have been beautiful at her prime. Now the fallen features speak of a splendour gone by, an existence that was once luxuriously pampered now reduced to wandering the busy, buzzing city sitting at the old derelict café that was Zonar’s up till some years ago. Situated at the city centre, amidst the crowded shopping district and face to face with an uber-luxe jewel shop (which in itself had been a traditional, picturesque ouzeri in a previous incarnation), Zonar’s had been for almost half a century the Mecca meeting point of local and visiting intelligentia.


And then like old civilizations, it withered and almost died…Abandoned, frequented only by the decadent and the nostalgically traditionalists. She was there, all right: mink fur jacket on her back, but almost tattered and yellowing at the edges. Antique gold bracelets that must have been family heirlooms from a Bosporus clan. Her hair coiffed in an old fashioned style that must have gone out of fashion about 30 years ago, her eye pensive and introspective. Her black croc bag, good quality, but showing years’ long wear. To paraphrase Poe, a "woman of the crowd"…

Cuir de Russie has this exact décadence avec élegance vibe that made an impression on me upon setting eyes on that woman.

In the words of Luca Turin:

“sumptuous leather, light and balsamic, forgoing any sugary compromise, Cuir de Russie regains its place at the top of this category, right next to the rather more jovial Tabac Blond. [...]Cuir de Russie is a striking hologram of luxury bygone: its scent like running the hand over the pearl grey banquette of an Isotta Frashini while forests of birch silently pass by”.

Amanda Lacey, famed London facialist, to whom this was gifted by Jacques Polge, put it in simpler terms:

“There's something about it that makes me emotional - it reminds me of Paris and of times gone by when people had an elegant approach to life. I feel I'm wearing a wise grand dame around my neck.”

Chanel's Cuir de Russie came out in 1924, a time at which the impact of Les Ballets Russes (1909-1929) was palpable. Russian émigrés having fled the motherland because of the revolution in 1917 had populated Paris and had lent it their own mark of decadent sophistication. Suddenly the exotic East, in which westerners classified the vast Russias since before the time of Peter the Great, became all the rage and the embodiment of everything forbidden and alluring. The datchas, the orthodox churches, the ballads on balalaikas, the Cossacks.
In the words of a critic of the times:

“nothing is more foreign to our tradition than those violent bursts, those frantic and intense dances, this instinctive frankness, this disproportionate imagination. The discordance is so brutal that one would be astonished by the tenacious favour that those people over there hold on us. The simple truth is that Russians fascinate us because they distrurb us”.

From the Commitée Colbert.


Coco Chanel herself would indulge sartorially into the craze for all things Russian, setting up the atelier Kitmir, which will later create the broderies inspired by Russian folklore for Jean Patou, himself the lover of the Grand Duchess of Russia. Coco also created the costumes for 4 ballets, one of which is Le Train in 1924; coincidentally the year Cuir de Russie is issued.

Inspired by Gabrielle’s own love for the exiled Grand Duke Dimitri Pavlovitch (1891-1942) ~ cousin of Tsar Nicolas II~ and paying homage to Stravinsky, Diaghilev and Serge Lifar, protégé of Diaghilev, with whom she was friends, Cuir de Russie exploited an old theme with a modernist palette.

Legendary nose Ernest Beaux, guided by Chanel’s desires to dare, made women indulge in what is essentially a men’s scent formula, garlanding it though with sparkly, dry aldehydes and the eternal feminine flowers: jasmine (an abundance of it!), rose and ylang ylang; redolent of No.5’s own heart, giving a warm, honeyed aspect that contrasts with an icy element that enters and exits the scene like an aloof, declassé aristocrat ~in perfect accordance to what was previously revealed as being the idea behind it: the leather pouches for jewels.

The inclusion of rectified birch tar, supposedly along with styrax, gave it the brutish animalic touch of 20th century and the intelligent beauty of Constructivism arhictecture. None of the sweet, contemporary niche leather harmonies and further off the smoothness of Diorling {click for review}. Sublime cadenzas of amber and resin provide the warm but never too congenial backdrop hinting at a bygone luxury and perhaps a little smoking fetish, letting off a subtle hint of tobacco. Contrary to Tabac Blond however it weaves smoothness of skin and rounded contours under the dress that cloths the woman. This is supremely manifested in the far superior extrait de parfum concentration which, like all Chanel parfums, exploits the best of raw materials and gives the most luxuriant experience.

Notes: aldehydes, orange blossom, bergamot, mandarin, clary sage, iris, jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, cedarwood, balsams, vetiver, styrax, incense, cade, leather, amber and vanilla.

The current eau de toilette version, which had been first re-orchestrated by in-house perfumer Jacques Polge in 1983 (toning a tad down the harsher leather aspect), now circulates in the gigantic sparse bottles of Les Exclusifs range in 200ml, distributed at Chanel boutiques and very select doors. The extrait de parfum concentration is not easy to come by any longer (it used to be available easily on Chanel.usa), regretably, but it is definitely still being made, distibuted to certain boutiques and definitely available in Paris if you travel there.

Translation of quotes from the French, author's own. Pic of young woman in gloves by glovelover 2006/flickr. Pic of Zonar's from Naftemboriki. Pic of ladies in furs by Kchen/flickr. Pic of leather cases for jewels courtesy of wealthwood.com

New Hermessence Vanille Galante: fragrance news & musings

Hot on the heels of the news on a new Chanel in Les Exclusifs line, named Beige and mysteriously kept under wraps at Saks which however will carry it, as reported on Perfume Shrine first, here come the news on a new Hermessence.

AlbertCan had the scoop just yesterday:

"Hermès is in the midst of launching another Hermessence fragrance. Vanille Galante will be available at Hermès boutiques in around January 2009. The scent shall be issued in the usual Hermessence editions: the prices will be the same as the others as well".

Perfume Shrine got excited and decided to flesh this out, so here we are.
In-house perfumer Jean Claude Ellena, responsible for the house's latest, the sleeper classic Kelly Calèche and the controversial Un Jardin après la Mousson, is now focusing on vanilla.
Generally vanilla is one of the most popular themes in perfumery, due to its almost universal appeal. It harks back to the glorious days of Jicky (1889) and if the latter is any indication it's not an easy feat to accomplish. Even legendary Chanel perfumer Ernest Beaux complained that "when he was trying for vanilla he got crème anglaise, while Guerlain came up with Jicky!" The secret to that, apart from coumarin, was that the then newly discovered chemical path to synthetic vanillin by JC.W Tieman left traces of phenol, which smelled tarry-smokey. Today the effect in Jicky is reproduced via adding a little rectified birch tar. Still, this story proves that a good vanilla needs to be a little molested in order to give out its best.

But in the new Hermès Vanille Galante, the sweet material is embedded in a composition that attaches the moniker of "galante" to it. The French adjective galant (or galante for feminine nouns) has an intriguing background: in the romans de cour/courtly literature, that is the medieval novels of nobility (example Le Roman de la Rose from 1420-30), "galant" signifies the quality of courteous, gentlemanly and often amorous. The phrase "en galante companie" thus signified the company of a representative of the opposite sex.
Ellena being an intellectual man, might we expect in Vanille Galante a vanilla that is accompanied by a note which is its opposite, in order to highlight the true character all the more pronouncedly? Would it mean that vanilla essence, in itself a multi-complex natural material, should get a treatment like lavender had in Brin de Reglisse, the previous Hermessence from 2007? In that one, Ellena focused on the higher octaves of lavender absolute, which veer into caramel and licorice tonalities. Or the vetiver treatment he reserved for Un Jardin sur le Nil and Terre d'Hermes, in which he had molecules subtracted from the essence in order to arrive at a sparser, clearer, almost mineral vetiver message?
On the other hand, in musical terms, galant refers to the European style of classical simplicity after the complexity of the late Baroque era in the third quarter of the 18th century with pre-eminent representatives the rhythmical composers François Couperin, Jean-Philippe Rameau, Georg Philipp Telemann and Antonio Vivaldi . Their cyclical forma ties in with the theme of la Reverdie (return) in literary roman: that of eternal return of spring, a theme of pagan connotations .
The common trait would be the lyrical approach of solidly thematic subjects, which could sneak into the treatment of vanilla in Vanille Galante, or what I will from now on affectionaly call "péripéties de vanilla".

Vanilla is exactly the cliché note that begs for Jean Claude Ellena's modus operandi: chastiting it by food deprivation would be beneficial pedagogically, I feel. Vanillin (a natural developping aldehyde in vanilla pods and the most widely produced aromatic in the world) has its place in the arsenal of Ellena's carousel, as does ethyl maltol (the cotton-candy aromachemical first used in L'artisan's Vanilia, while maltol is also present in licorice, evident in Brin de Reglisse as discussed above). Nevertheless he has professed in an earlier interview that he is bored by "easy" notes such as vanillin and heliotropin. Yet he has produced his share of gourmand exempla, such as Bois Farine (2003), Elixir des Merveilles (2006) and Sublime Vanille (2001) for Lily Prune!
Vanilline however can be produced via gaïacol, eugenol or even lignine from cardboard manufacture. It's used in order to produce the scents of vanilla (of course), chocolate and banana. I am wondering whether those references might give Ellena some ideas on how to extend this note. Banana-peel is one of the nuances that some white florals, notably jasmine sambac and ylang-ylang, emit. However white florals have long been allied to vanilla and it strikes me as an unimaginative and too "talkative" coupling for an Ellena creation. Perhaps he will surprise us with a zen approach.

Additionally, Hermès wants to keep up with the competition in the niche stakes with other mega-houses: in this regard, Guerlain and its dark, rich Spiritueuse Double Vanille ~it proved to be such a good seller, that it was elevated from the status of limited, ephemeral edition into the permanent collection at Boutiques Guerlain and expanded to select doors(or was that the reverse marketing masterplan all along?, this scepticist is wondering).
Hermès can't break up the exclusivity factor of the Hermessences if Vanille Galante proves to be a bestseller without ruining the whole concept and shooting itself at the foot. What they could do however is keep the skeleton of the composition as the basis of their following feminine -most probably- fragrance. (two pieces of speculation at once, don't you love it here?)

The above constitute hypotheses on my part. We will update when more information becomes available from our sources. One thing seems for sure: We will be able to exclaim "Mais, c'est un Ellena!" (but it's an Ellena creation).

EDIT TO ADD: Six from Ambre Gris brought to my attention that it might be a simple allusion to Marie Galante, the island of the Caribbean located in the Guadeloupean archipelago. Constitutionally part of France, as Guadeloupe is an overseas région and département, MG is famous for its sugar cane but also cultures of tobacco, indigo, coffee and cotton.

Hermessences are available exclusively at select Hermès boutiques around the world. The bottles come at 100ml priced at 150 euros and there is also the option of a travel set of 4 aromisers of 15ml each (0.5oz) in either the same scent or 4 different ones in pre-arranged sets.

Read my full-on review of Vanille Galante following this link!

"Yvain secourant la damoiselle" from the Lancelot du Lac by Chretien de Trois manuscript. Vanilla pod and extract pic by Miri Rotkovitz(herbesspices.about.com)