Anne Rice's novel Exit to Eden and the author's favorite Chanel perfume

 Anne Rice, the author of the gothic novel Interview with the Vampire, among many many others in different genres, has died at the age of 80. You might have read the obituary, you might also have read her books, she was mighty popular; and for good reason.

The sad news of her passing prompted a memory to surface, one I don't believe I have talked about before. In one of her novels, Exit to Eden, a bdsm erotica novel from 1985 written under the nom de plume Anne Rampling, and later under her own name, there is an exquisite (her favorite word) excerpt that focuses on perfume perception.

The plot line goes like this: They call her the Perfectionist. A stunning, mysterious, and fearless sexual adventurer, Lisa is founder and supreme mistress of The Club—an exclusive island resort where forbidden fantasy meets willing flesh. A thrill-seeking photojournalist, Elliott risks his life daily in the most dangerous, war-torn regions on Earth. Now he has come to Paradise to explore his most savage and vulnerable sexual self, committed to the ultimate plunge into personal risk.

In the initial chapters, when Lisa and Elliot first play together, a mention of Chanel perfume is mentioned. 

"Tall but not as tall as all the men were here. And there was that sweet, intoxicating scent of Chanel. No doubt about it. She was there. The woman in my life."

and elsewhere

"The perfume was Chanel, and it came in little waves, like with her pulse."

 Chanel, but which Chanel perfume? At the time of printing, mid-1980s, the available feminine fragrances in circulation were predominantly Chanel No.5, Chanel No.19 and Cristalle. And out of the three, No.5 seemed more likely to be the candidate for the piercing, projecting, sweet fragrance mentioned. Or so I thought. I had forgotten that in the USA, where Anne Rice resided, the cult of an old Chanel perfume had never died and the scent was still available for purchase.

Anne Rice herself has shed light into her personal favorite perfume, stating " For over thirty years, I've been wearing Chanel No.22 and Chanel has stopped making my favorite perfume. [ed.n: she lamented it being discontinued in the 1990s before the re-issue in the Les Exclusifs line after 2005] I hope they make chanel no.22 again."  In 2014 she was also put into record in an interview on The Guardian as claiming No.22 by Chanel being her favorite smell. 

Which is odd in regards to being included in the novel, since its cultural image was as far removed from the whips and chains brigade as possible.  

This discrepancy however is very much helping to delineate the character of both Lisa and Elliott and to foreshadow their blossoming romance which turns them from bdsmers to vanilla lovers by the end of the book.

Many have wondered over the years whether Anne was part of the Scene herself; some of her descriptions sound true and really heart-felt, quite the opposite of 50 Shades of Grey. I guess we will never know for sure. One thing is for certain, ms. Rice put something of herself in one of her literary characters. And I find that quite touching. In the moment of her passing, I hope her dear ones remembered to sprinkle her belongings with a final spray of No.22

photo borrowed from poshmark

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Chanel reviews & news, Aldehydic Floral Fragrances for Beginners, BDSM and scents.

My Cultural Path: The Making of a Perfume Historian

 

I suppose it was all pre-mapped out for me in a way, but like Indiana Jones famously said “there’s no X marking the spot.” I found the way to being a perfume historian while enjoying myself.  

Thus begins my autoethnography article for The Autoethnographer, a new publication which focuses on how I mapped out a path for myself combining historical and archeological studies with perfumery. Dr.Marlen Harrison invited me in an interview to describe my fragrant beginnings and the cultural axis on which my olfactory impressions were formed.

In narrative inquiry we come across subjects shaping the matter through their own “digestion” of facts, so to speak. It’s a very interesting approach to fragrance especially, because beyond the scientific facts, which can only be unlocked with gas chromatography and a mass spectrometer, personal tales give a more telling and more engaging sense of what any perfume is about.

 

Personally, and I might be wrong, I do not believe that it is even possible to entirely exclude one’s own approach to inquiry. There can be no author-evacuated history, because the historian is a product of their own times, they belong to a school of methodology, etc. This is why history is not an exact science like chemistry, but it is also what makes it fascinating; it’s different reading different books.

One is always in motion with history, events of the past are in a constant interaction with the present. 

 These lived experiences are hard to shake off. And they do tend to come up whenever I think of smells, because they inform my perception, so in that sense they become autoethnographic. When I smell a purely “American” perfume I tend to expect something clean and impressive in terms of claiming an area of a square foot around the wearer. When I think of Far Eastern scents I expect the woody and airy incense of the temples of those regions, or of the humid jungle seeping into the mix. Sometimes the final impression is juxtaposed with those primal expectations, so the aesthetic approach in writing follows two paths, one of fruition and one of refusal.

Please read my entire piece here on the Autoethnographer. 

Eau d'Ivoire by Balmain: fragrance review

One often sees young girls looking for a perfume for everyday -clean, that will be well liked by their entourage, that will make them feel feminine, and in full possession of the coolness of their youth. They're offered a pile of branded products in big department stores, and one tends to feel a little bit sorry for the embarrassment; too much choice, but too little distinction. Yet small gems await in the wings. Eau d'Ivoire is a cooler and more modern style variant of the re-launched Ivoire by Pierre Balmain (which gave us legendary fragrances like Vent Vert, Miss Balmain and Jolie Madame) a year later, in 2013. 

 

The relaunched contemporary Ivoire by Balmain is also beautiful, with an aldehyde arrangement of cleanliness and soap, less retro-"mommy" compared to perfumer Francis Camail's 1979 original Ivoire (for some funny reason, the perfumer's name always reminds me of Camay soap ...). 

In Eau d'Ivoire we're dealing with a bright, shiny, dominant magnolia that comes to the fore like a young girl at an event, who radiates natural beauty: fresh flawless skin,  sculpted features, loose lush hair, light-footed dance moves, a gaze with no hidden. You look at her and your mood lifts. 

The fragrance of Eau d'Ivoire has that deliriously attractive acidic feeling that men like so much, the freshness of initial spraying that is combined with the feeling of sophisticated musky skin-like haze underneath, which, although it speaks of cleanliness, does not scratch the nose with the sweetish acrid smell of fabric softener. The aldehydidic profile is weakened compared to the original Ivoire, but it is accompanying in a primo secondo fashion. A hint of soap, of the bath ritual, a feeling of well-being and softness remains on the skin when it dries, with a soupcon of clean fractalized patchouli. 

Eau d'Ivoire lasts a rather long time especially on fabric, but noses almost "destroyed" by a diet too indulgent in synthetic vanilla, patchouli and harsh oudh accords might find it undetectable. Solution? After a bout of gluttony, it takes a little fasting to re-evaluate the subtler nuances of good cooking. A break of sweet and acrid powdery smells will convince you of the truth of my claim. 

Parting shot: Eau d'Ivoire reminds me of the also optimistic beautiful Joie Eclat by Valeur Absolue. 

 

 

Church Mix Oil: Mystical Spicy Resin

 

Eau d'Italie Magnolia Romana: fragrance review

 The beauty of the gigantic blossoms of magnolia is their happy citrusy freshness: I always find myself surprised that the sheer awe the blossom creates, in terms of visual volume (their size is quite something!) is transliterated into a scent that is airy, crystalline, and quite delicate. Spare a thought for the contrast of the heavy and trickily intoxication that jasmine absolute stands for in relation to the minuscule flower itself. In Eau d'Italie's Magnolia Romana the airiness of the blossom is highlighted through a very appropriate watery and ozonic accord that embraces the waxy flower, and makes it seem even fresher, as if it's still attached on the tree where it blossomed. 

The addition of a piquant green note (a hint of spice) and the clear orange blossom (which is treated to turn very soapy) are further additions which reinforce that impression of rejuvenation. This effect not only faithfully recreates the necessary natural ambience around the magnolia tree, it also corresponds well to the ambience implied by the brand's name: Italy. The company was founded on the premises of the Hotel La Sinenuse at Positano, a beautiful little town off the coast of Amalfi in the south of Italy.

It's true that magnolias don't grow in soils and climes that are not warm, being almost sub-tropical in categorization, and the environment of temperate Italy is adequately conductive, especially now with global warming (there's the lone nice side-effect of it...) So if you're living somewhere where the climate zone prohibits enjoying the elation and optimism that such a sunny, open blossom as the magnolia evokes, Magnolia Romana might do the trick, all year round, to bring Italian spring into your life.