Emanuel Ungaro Diva: fragrance review & reminiscences

People sometimes say things are not what they used to be, and in the case of fragrances, they're unequivocally right. Despite a certain glamorization of the past, which usually indicates dissatisfaction with the present, the fragrance game has changed radically in the past 20 years. Not necessarily for the worse overall, but the bite and edge of fragrances in the mainstream sector has suffered indeed. Some of them, nevertheless, show a predisposition for resisting. Diva by Ungaro seems to be one of them, apparently surviving relatively unscathed. It's still a glorious chypre with an indestructible "hear me roar" bawl that can be heard from the rooftops

(pic via)

I was offered a bottle of Emanuel Ungaro's Diva when I was 19. By my young boyfriend, no less. In today's standards, that would be the equivalent of being offered a petal dress in organza silk, combined with diamond-encrusted earrings to match, to wear to a black-tie ball. Talk about a glamazon! Those were different times, though; we weren't afraid to be adventurous with fragrance or over-apply occasionally. 

Jacques Polge, the legendary perfumer who is the father of the current in-house perfumer at Chanel, Olivier Polge, made sure to include everything and the kitchen sink while composing the byzantine formula of Diva back in the early 1980s. There is the standard big, voluminous, and arguably synthetic rose of the1980s, immortalized in creations such as L'Arte di Gucci, Knowing, and Paris (YSL). It's balanced with a big dollop of patchouli and oakmoss, which give a very distinct aloof quality to the flower, eschewing the prim and romantic allusions of those blossoms and instilling a glamorous and somewhat demanding vibe. You can definitely see how it was an offer of supplication from a boyfriend to one's mistress...

 This wonderful and classic chord is then cleverly wrapped in a honey note, which only sweetens it just so, and a string of animalic notes, from civet to musk (it's almost YSL Kouros-like in its intimacy of warm naughty notes under the clean starchness). It is these elements that help make Diva congenital even to warm ambery perfume lovers. People who like Paloma Piccaso Mon Parfum but find it a bit harsh might find the Ungaro fragrance more simpatico to their sensibilities; it's worth trying and comparing to see the common lineage at the very least.

There is warmth and plush in Diva, as well as a dollop of other flower essences than rose, which enhances its femininity, and it all makes it less of a boardroom fragrance, unlike the way Knowing can appear austere and buttoned-up, especially nowadays. This quality brings it effortlessly into the salon and the boudoir. It's ladylike but still naughty; in the case of Diva, the lady is a tramp. And hey, even Lady Gaga reworked the classic song, so fragrance lovers should probably seek out Diva and give it a spin. It's worth exploring anew.

Chanel Cristalle: fragrance review, history & comparison of concentrations

To consider Cristalle by Chanel a predominantly "fresh" scent begs the question: which version of it? Contrary to some of the previous fresh scents that dominated the 1970s like Eau de Patou, Eau Libre (YSL) or Eau de Rochas, Cristalle has circulated in two distinct variations that differ considerably.

Although only one of them is set in the 1970s, namely the eau de toilette original version, the 1990s eau de parfum edition is also popular and perhaps blurs the lines most between simple freshness and ripe enigma; if the citrus burst of the eau de toilette is a sunny but still crisp morning, then the more floral chypre leaning of the eau de parfum is late afternoon when the warmth of the sun has made everything ripen and smell moist and earthy.

The structure of Chanel Cristalle Eau de Toilette is citrusy green, almost cologne-y, with only a hint of chypre perfume  structure; more jovial, more unisex and altogether happier. The structure of the Cristalle Eau de Parfum version is more feminine, with the floral offset of jasmine and ylang ylang bringing to the fore the more romantic elements. If the former is a brainy librarian, the latter is a brainy librarian with one button undone on her blouse. As you would surmise from my description, I like and respect both, but would personally find more cause for celebration in the latter.

Cristalle is a case in point where the genius of Henri Robert is fittingly corralled to that of Jacques Polge, the two perfumers responsible for the creation of the former and the latter editions respectively.

The 1970s were all about freshness, vivacity, a new energy with the youth movement and the female emancipation. A lively citrusy green scent like Cristalle Eau de Toilette sounds totally logical and expected of the historical context. Cristalle Eau de Toilette has endured and has gained new fans over the decades exactly because it is a triumph of mind over matter. It feels tinglingly fresh, yes; it feels brainy and perfect for sharing whether you are a man or a woman. It also fits its architectural packaging to a T, perhaps more than any other perfume in the Chanel stable. It feels sleek and sparse and 100% proud of it. It also means that when you opt for it you know you're picking the freshest thing in the shop; there is nary a fresher scent on the Chanel counter now or ever. Only the galbanum throat-slicing-blade of the original Chanel No.19 could be compared for sheer chill!

But what about the Eau de Parfum version of Chanel's Cristalle?

The 1990s have gained an odd reputation in perfume lovers' minds because they mostly contributed the mega trend of the "ozonic" and "marine" fragrances, scents cutting loose with the denser and richer French and American tradition and ushering a sense of Japanese zen into personal fragrance. At the time they produced a huge chasm with everything that preceded them; and fittingly one of the first to do so was Kenzo pour Homme in 1991. Suddenly one wearing such a quiet scent seemed like someone walking in velvet slippers contrasted with a Louboutin stiletto wearer, emitting Dior Poison, marking some poor 18th century parquet floor; you instantly knew who was going to get more sympathetic smiles and friendly nods of the head and who was to be greeted with wrinkled noses. Such were the mores then; we have become loud with our scent choices again of course. But the overindulgence in quiet can become deafening in the end and this is what happened by the end of that grunge-dominated decade. Still Chanel Cristalle Eau de Parfum managed to straddle the ground between quiet and loud, producing a composition between soft flannel wool and luxurious yet rough soie sauvage which was advertised with the immortal line: "Exuberance comes of age!"

Chanel Coco by Chanel: fragrance review

Coco by Chanel must be among a handful of fragrances on the market to have not only one, but two flankers without being a spectacular market success to begin with. Flankers are supporting fragrances coat-tailing on the success of the original perfume, borrowing part of the name of the original as well as the bottle mould, but differing in scent and target demographics. Coco has two: Coco Mademoiselle, an alarmingly successful best-seller for youngish women that has far eclipsed the original, and Coco Noir, a woody fragrance of recent crop with dubious presence on the market as yet. Today Coco seems old fashioned and aimed only at mature women, fading-to-market-black, but soon after it came out it profited of a marketing campaign that positioned it as a sexy debutante scent, fronted by then teenager Vanessa Paradis! Funny how perceptions change and we used to wear Ungaro Diva and the like when not yet out of high school, right?

The most astounding personal association I have with Coco has always been one that pertains to its market share, not the scent itself: In all my many years of perfume observation & appreciation I have never met in real life a person owning a bottle of Coco, a fact which had always struck me as weird considering the continued presence of the perfume on the counters. Chanel No.19 is also an undivided presence on the local counters (and a steady seller according to SAs), but I actually know people who wear it, I smell it on the street from time to time and I have seen bathroom shelves with a bottle of it proudly displayed more than once or twice. Someone must be buying Coco too, then, right?
But let's take things at the top.

Aiming to capture a more Baroque side of Chanel, taking the sobriquet given to Gabrielle Chanel by her escapee father and inspired by Gabrielle's Rue Cambon apartment with its casket-like rooms full of Venetian glass, Chinoiserie panels and leather bound books, house perfumer Jacques Polge set out to compose a true 1980s perfume following the commercial smash hit of YSL Opium: bold, brash, take no prisoners. And he succeeded in the most part.

The fragrant secrets of Coco by Chanel
One of the peculiarities of Coco is that it was among the first perfumes to be conceived not as an extrait de parfum first but rather envisioned in its diluted form of eau de parfum. The market had gone away from the more discreet, more intimate use of parfum extrait and demanded a really powerful spray that would announced the wearer before she was seen; ergo the eau de parfum (and sometimes the parfum de toilette) concentration, less expensive than extrait but rivaling its lasting power, while at the same time being extra loud thanks to the volatility boost via the spraying mechanism.

The secret ingredient in the formula of Coco by Chanel is the inclusion of the base Prunol*, a rich and dark "dried fruits & spices" mélange famously exalted in Rochas Femme by Edmond Roudnitska, which gives Coco a burnished hint of raisin. The cascade of honeyed spices immediately asserts itself: pimento, cardamom, cinnamon, cumin and clove, while the overall feeling is one of amber plush and resinous warmth (with a wink of leather) with the flowers folded into a rich batter and undiscernable. The patchouli (tucked into the Prunol base) gives a whiff of chocolate, though, in the words of Susan Irvine, not even a fashion innovator of the magnitude of Chanel would have considered a note reminiscent of a bedtime drink as worthy of consideration in fine fragrance. (One would perversely wish she had lived through present fruitchouli-infested times to see how she'd chuckle under her smartly cuffed sleeve.)

A Perfume Apart
Coco by Chanel enjoys something of a revered status among perfumistas, so it's not clear whether it should be considered an "underrated perfume" in the first place, but my inclusion in the Underrated Perfume Day series isn't totally random as it would appear on first sight nevertheless. First of all it was demanded by quite a lot of readers. Secondly, this is the kind of perfume that I should be theoretically crazy about (a spicy oriental in the mold of my beloved YSL vintage Opium, Cinnabar, Feminité du Bois and Krizia Teatro alla Scala) and yet I am not. Indeed I have been trying it on and off for decades now.

However when married with a huge bottle of Coco (extrait de parfum in spray no less) I had the following peculiar problem, for something so -allegedly- admired: I could NOT swap it with other interested perfumephiles no matter what! I tried everything: stooping to suggesting I'd trade for inexpensive eaux de toilette from mainstream brands, offering to supplement with generous niche samples, pleading "please take it off my hands, it's a shame it should collect dust, just take it already". No one wanted it. I finally gifted it off to a women's shelter where its whereabouts have been lost to me. The perfume lover who had sold it to me in the first place recounted to me the exact same problem: "I spent two years trying to get this thing off my hands; when you came along and showed an interest I couldn't believe it".

Is Coco by Chanel something that perfumistas like to reference but rarely -if ever- wear? Are its wearers merely nostalgic for the 1980s, a time they were young and more optimistic, and therefore owning a little bottle is just that, a memento of carefree times? Is it, finally, past its due and not that spectacular to begin with? I think a bit of all those things. One thing however that it did magnificently well was its advertising by Jean Paul Goude: Vanessa Paradis as an exotic bird in a cage whistling to the meowing of a big greedy cat outside and "l' ésprit de Chanel" as the tag line. Coco Chanel would have been proud.

For more perfume reviews of such fragrances check out the Underrated Perfume Day feature and scroll for more musings. 

*For modern takes on the Prunol type base in perfumes, look no further than Bottega Veneta eau de parfum, Chinatown by Bond no.9 and Mon Parfum Chéri by Camille (Annick Goutal).

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.

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 to Launch Les Exclusifs Jersey & Chanel No.19 Poudre flanker

It was a matter of being due at Chanel: Chanel No.19 is such a revered classic (and a very popular mature woman choice in my country) that it would be a misstep not to exploit this by rendering a new flanker, aimed at the younger audiences who might be introduced to the brand of No.19 via that gateway.
Enter No.19 Poudré, the latest mainstream fragrance by Chanel, as revealed in a lengthy interview by Jacques Polge on Women's Wear Daily, which will hit the stores in the summer of 2011.

The composition, much like Cristalle Eau Verte did for Cristalle and Eau Premiere did for No.5, will highlight the lighter, more diaphanous elements in the formula, with the lately popular veil of modernised, sheer powder accord (as in Love,Chloé and Esprit d'Oscar). The powdery effect will be rendered through novel musks plus iris, an already major component of the classic No.19. According to veteran perfumer Jacques Polge who is only the third head perfumer for Chanel, since 1978:

"We've found some new musks that are very interesting, and we're working a lot at the moment on iris, which is a very important ingredient in No.19 Poudré. We have our plantations in Grasse, with rose and jasmine, and we're trying to find new qualities in those. But we're also trying to reproduce what was done 40 years ago, that nobody does anymore".

Other ingredients featured prominently in No.19 Poudré besides iris and musk are jasmine and neroli. The concentration is Eau de Parfum, as shown on the bottle.

My personal view on the new flanker launch? It's dubious whether classicists will be pleased by the new No.19 flanker, but it does sound like it will be heavy on those "novel" musks and iris (probably boosted by synth alternatives as well) to project at a powdery pitch. Powdery is a new trend in the market which would have fans of the older version (I'm one of them) not too mad at the new.
Who knows? A flanker usually means the continuation of a brand: I would like to see the No.19 brand going rather than being left behind in the wake of more popular things.

As to Jersey, it is the name of the upcoming Chanel Les Exclusifs, joining Beige, Sycomore, 31 Rue Cambon, 28 La Pausa, Coromandel, Eau de Cologne, Bel Respiro, No.18, Bois des Iles, Cuir de Russie, Gardenia and No.22. [links open up reviews of respective scents]. The name had been trademarked a long while ago, as we rgularly predict trends on these pages based on that, and it remains to be seen what treatment the masterminds of Jacques Polges and Chris Sheldrake are envisioning this emblematic fabric of Coco Chanel ~which made her famous (and infamous)~ will translate into. Referencing couture through fragrance is not unknown to Chanel. If we're allowed a little deliberation, a white floral is missing from the Exclusifs line. Or specifically a magnolia, one of the latest notes du jour, begging for a luxury spin.
Edit to add: Preliminary testing suggests Chanel Les Exclusifs Jersey is a clean fragrance with notes of lavender, vanilla and white musks. We will update with a full review.

Release dates for Chanel No.19 Poudré are 1st of June for London (on preview at Selfridges) and 15 days later for the rest of the UK and Europe, available at major department stores.
Chanes Les Exclusifs Jersey will hit stores in autumn 2011 as part of the Chanel boutiques circuit and online at the US store.

thanks to AlbertCA for bringing this to my attention, pic via Grazia scan online

Chanel Gardenia vintage vs. modern Les Exclusifs Gardenia: fragrance review & history

The original Gardénia, issued by Chanel in 1925 and composed by legendary perfumer Ernest Beaux who created all the early opi/opera of Chanel, was built on a fashion premise: The deco motifs of the 1920s exalted the almost cubist arrangement of flower petals, resulting in designs which were transported into impressive jewellery. Gardénia was not conceived as, nor was it meant to be, a gardenia soliflore, although the heavy-smelling blossom was picked thanks to its optical resemblance to Mademoiselle Chanel's favourite flower: the camelia, which doesn't hold a scent. The name in reality derives from the English word "garden" (it's jardin in French): a popular reference of the times, especially if we recall the Shalimar story and the gardens of Lahore that made the imagination run wild. That was then.

But gardenia fragrances in particular re-entered the consciousness of the public with a vengeance in the next decade, the 1930s, in a different manner. This was a time of financial difficulties and a more conservative cultural milieu, when every company was launching or re-issuing their own gardenia fragrance; advertising them as a return to neo-romanticism, the gardenia boutonnières of Edwardian dandies and the gardens in the South of France which provided welcome escapism. Indeed an American advertisement for Chanel Gardénia mentions how it's meant to evoke romantic gardens at the Riviera and tags it as a youthful fragrance. [Chanel is no stranger to capitalizing on advertising to promote specific perceptions of their products, as it famously did with No.5.]
It was 1936 after all when the hit song "These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)" by Eric Maschwitz & Jack Starchey included the infamous lyric "gardenia perfume lingering on a pillow"...alongside "an airplane ticket to romantic places". Is it any wonder that in the economically "tough" decade of the 1970s Brian Ferry & Roxy Music chose to bring this song back doing their own cover on it (1973)? Chanel would eventually bring their Gardénia back from the dead too; but almost two decades later. And as recently as the end of the 2000s yet again, this time in their boutique line Les Exclusifs where's it's still available.

Olfactorily, the two versions cannot be any more different, providing a valuable history lesson for any inquisitive perfume lover:

The vintage Chanel Gardénia was composed on a narcissus base with a green accent of styrallyl acetate; a freshly green note, naturally present in budding gardenias and a very popular inclusion in many classic floral chypres: It provides the gardenia greeness in the heart which compliments the mossiness of the background, from Miss Dior to Ma Griffe. The trick of composing a "gardenia chord" instead of using an extract from nature was necessitated by technical complications: No essence could be rendered (till very, very recently in fact and then only in some extremely limited distribution niche fragrances). The gardenia in the hands of Chanel is oscillating between green and creamy, as it's allied to other white florals with a powdery veil.
The top note of the vintage Gardénia however is surprising in that it's built on a violet accent, composed through octin and heptin methyl carbonate. The progression from the sweeter violet to the feminine floral harmony in the heart, featuring natural jasmine, makes for a rounder experience with woodier base notes recalling those in Chanel's own Bois des Îles or even Coty's Imprevu, with a spicy whiff of vetiver lingering.
The vintage came in extrait de parfum (a very round and feminine smell) and later Eau de Toilette in the standard square bottles with the round black screw-on cap. Opening one, made me realise how different the perceptions of a floral were in those eras back contrasted with today: Although I can feel the delicate rendering of petals, there is no immediate "department-store atmosphere" of a hundred florals sprayed simultaneously into the air. Drop by drop, it's silky and polished, like a strand of patina rose pearls in slightly differing diameter.

The original version of Gardenia circulated well into the 1950s, but it disappeared at some point when other Chanel fragrances such as No.19 and Cristalle entered the scene. Sometimes the labels did not have the French accent aigu for the American market.
An effort was made to bring it back alongside the more faithfully rendered classics Cuir de Russie and Bois des Iles in the Chanel "Rue Cambon" exclusive boutique circuit at the cusp of the 1990s: Regrettably, it was the least resistant link in the chain, accounting for a rather destitute white floral. The bottle in extrait was rectangular with a white label like standard Chanel extraits (depicted) and the colour of the juice a light yellow. There was also a limited edition Eau de Toilette in a rectangular bottle edged in gold, with white label and white cap in the 1990s (shown on the right).




The modern version of Gardénia as part of Chanel Les Exclusifs more upscale line, reworked by Jacques Polge, conforms to the latest regulations and changing tastes. Thus it is comparatively much thinner, stretched to its limit, based on a standard white floral chord with fresh & green jasmine/hedione, "clean" orange blossom cologne-ish notes and just a smidgen of tuberose (and absolutely no gardenia whatsoever). A delicate vanilla base is the only other detectable note, very light and soft without much sweetness. The fragrance's popularity and reception is no doubt accounted by its transparent and easy demeanor which lends itself easily to any wearer. There is a young, ice-princess vibe about it, rather classy in its sex-denying way.

It leaves something to be desired in fulfilling a powerful romantic imagery and rather much in providing an avant-garde entry in the field of white florals (which it could have tried if it wanted to); but its wearability provides options for casual & office wearing, which is more than can be said for some of the more sumptuous and demanding vintages. Among Les Exclusifs, in Eau de Toilette concentration with an even paler colour of juice than before, Gardénia is also one of the most fleeting, making for a brief experience that needs to be constantly renewed.

Notes for Chanel Gardénia: jasmine, gardenia, orange blossom, tuberose, clove, sage, pimento, musk, patchouli, sandalwood and vetiver.


Ella Fitzerald sings These Foolish Things


And Brian Ferry reprises it in his own innimitable style in a rare 1974 video.

pic of vintage parfum via musclecars.net. Ebay & stock bottle photos. Pearl necklace & gardenia extrait bottle via the Romantic Query Letter.

Jacques Polge, Egoiste, Blue, Sex and Clean: an Interview

"Egoïste is about seduction. I have a funny anecdote about sex and smells. An American woman once asked me if French people took showers before or after sex. I answered, “After, of course.”

"Bleu is the opposite of Egoïste. Egoïste was inspired by a woman's fragrance* [Bois des Îles], whereas there is nothing feminine about Bleu. I wanted to do something very direct. You know, men's fragrances are still very linked with shaving. When I find myself in planes, at some point I always see those business men coming from the bathroom smelling of aftershave. So Bleu is spicy, woody, and dry. There is no fantasy."

"I started my career in the United States. Perfumes were then made of both good-smelling and bad-smelling ingredients. But the bad-smelling ingredients, when used in a certain way, brought something sensual and interesting to the final scent. The first time I arrived at work, they told me, “You want to work here? Then smell this.” They made me smell chives. With American puritanism, all these kinds of fragrances disappeared".

*Hence its original name, Bois Noir. Only offered in Chanel boutiques at the time, Bois Noir was in production for only a few months in 1987 before it was withdrawn from the market, later to be replaced with the more widely available Egoïste.

Thus reminiscences Jacques Polge, the master perfumer at Chanel since the 1980s and responsible for the marvel that is Egoïste. Read the entire interview following this link.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:
Bleu de Chanel (new fragrance for men),
Pushing Boundaries in Perfume advertising,
Why the French grow up to love smells while Americans don't,
Top 10 Masculine Fragrances.

Link brought to my attention via nowsmellthis/twitter. Pic of Bois Noir bottle via basenotes, still from Egoiste ad from my archive

How are Chanel Perfumes Composed?

The order in which all Chanel perfume formulae are made, according to head perfumer Jacques Polge in this little interview of course, since usually perfume is composed the other way around, a propos the launch of the latest Bleu de Chanel for men, are:

1. Fresh top notes (think of traditional citrus and herbal scents like mint)
2. Fruity notes
3. Spicy notes
4. Jasmine notes
5. Rose notes
6. White flowers notes (tuberose, orange blossom absolute etc)
7. Woody notes
8. Amber notes
9. Musks

Corresponds pretty much to the volatility charts for specific ingredients hereby grouped into the larger "families" above. Interesting, no?



Please note I followed the order and context of meaning from the French; I found the English subtitles occasionally confused what was (meant to be) simple clarification on some points...I have to say Jacques did repeat twice "spicy notes" though, before and after jasmine. I'm sure it was merely a lapse of the tongue.

Chanel Chance Eau Tendre: fragrance review

It's always a frightful day when a respected brand falls down from the skies into the puddles of stagnant water in the pedestrian crossing. The introduction might seem dramatic, but it is necessitated. Chanel has so far benefited from a lofty image, a steel-handed management thanks to the Wertheimer brothers and an in-house perfumer, Jacques Polge, who has steered the house into a more or less coherent direction for decades. But it seems that this course has lately diverted: The two flankers of Chance, Chance Eau Fraiche and now Chance Eau Tendre alongside a couple of forgettable masculines, show clearly that Chanel takes into consideration the market angle more than it is getting blame for.

In the case of Chance Eau Tendre the effect feels like dumping down, instead of modernizing an idea for a young audience; unlike the excellent No.5 Eau Premiere which took a classic and flew it into the ethers of poetic but approachable Elysium. In short, Chance Eau Tendre is only technically a well-crafted formula (good tenacity, plenty of sillage, coherent notes in unison) but artistically it's a plea to the lowest common denominator. And that's surprising from someone as skillful as Jacques Polge who clearly knows better, so it cannot be anything but a deliberate marketing decision from above.

A soapy fruity on a white musk base which recalls every similar major department store launch of the last coupe of seasons and in particular Daisy by Marc Jacobs. No offence to Daisy, but there is something seriously wrong when a Chanel fragrance starts smelling like Daisy. The fabric softener (on pale woods that read as non-descript) feel is especially in contrast to the haute ambience of other Chanels, even in their modern versions. There was a hint of a diversion when Beige by Chanel was launched in Les Exclusifs sub-line, its approachability and pastel-coloured smile easier and friendlier in its mien than other specimens. Yet whereas in Beige this worked due to the overall honeyed floral character and the suaveness of the hawthorn note which enveloped in a hug, in a fruity white musk composition any such intention falls flat and feels like an air-kiss at a social gathering of no greater importance than the pocketbook.

A pity...I wonder how well Chance Eau Tendre will sell, since similar smells can be had at a lower price. Then again, the whole axis of a luxury brand lies in selling even mediocre products just because they bear a prestigious name...

Might I remind you that the upcoming masculine is called Bleu de Chanel, scheduled for release in August 2010 with an international ad campaign shot by Scorcese as previously announced. As for the scent itself, according to the website RelaxNews, "it is fresh and woody, with notes of citrus, pink pepper, mint, ginger, jasmine, cedar and patchouli". [source]


A propos: L.Turin had said it best talking about brands: "To borrow terms first applied by 19th century journalist Walter Bagehot to the monarchy, brands have both an "effective" and a "dignified" function. [...] The dignified function is image: the buyer advertises his purchase to others.[..] That label, not the white baby sealskin bag to which it is attached, then gradually comes to mean "money". In other words, it becomes a currency. Once you have a currency, you can do lots of fun things with it. You can debase it (real Vuitton bags); you can counterfeit it (fake Vuitton bags); but best of all you can play on the fact that all currencies work by mutual consent. In other words, if you can persuade the rich to use your debased coinage, then the poor who buy real fakes and fake fakes will not feel shafted or silly and the scam becomes self-sustaining. [...] This is what is called brand "mystique" and it works best when those who produce the lies believe in them. [..]You have to believe, and to communicate the belief, that there is something intrinsically different about an object that bears a particular name. This is not a new trick: the aristocracy has practiced it to great effect since the French Revolution. A titled name used to mean having, it now means being. Titles are, in marketing terms, the human limited edition. What this means in practice: you've just bought a frog, but the ads swear it's a prince".

Notes for Chanel Chance Eau Tendre are:
Top: grapefuit, melon, quince
Heart: hyacinth, jasmine
Base: iris, white musk, Virginia cedar, amber

The campaign is fronted by Sigrid Agren, and photographed by the legendary Jean-Paul Goude, a longtime collaborator of Chanel parfums. Chanel Chance Eau Tendre will be available as an Eau de Toilette in 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz at major department stores.

Illustration via Foliadesign

Chanel Les Exclusifs Beige: fragrance review

Beige evokes different things for different people: from the suave to the anodyne all the way to lackluster, it is a neutral nuanced enough to escape the unambiguous reactions to black or white. Although the adjective has degenerated into invoking a blah response in the current vernacular, beige can be approached with the silent admiration that a honey-blonde with golden skin clad in a basic trenchcoat and heels can provoke in those of us with an eye for such things. Beige is thus baptised the new fragrance by Chanel to join the upscale line Les Exclusifs, modern compositions that interpret the olfactory heritage of Chanel to varying degrees. In house perfumers Jacques Polge and Chris Sheldrake envisioned a litany of shades for a completely new interpretation of an old rarity: Beige by Chanel was one of the rare vintage fragrances that hark back to the days of Gabrielle Chanel herself and formed a holy triad: Rouge, Bleue, Beige, inspired by her collection of dresses in red/blue/beige in jersey but also echoing the triptych of the French flag colours.

Coco turned beige into a symbol of elegance: "I take refuge in beige because it's natural". I distinctly recall that over a decade ago, this was used in the advertising surrounding the release of Allure Eau de Toilette (a different composition than the monodimensional vanillic indulgence of the Eau de Parfum). Contrary to usual packaging practices at Chanel, the box was not in the traditional white of the numerotical fragrances No.5, No. 22, No.19 or of Cristalle. Nor was it the arresting black of baroque oriental Coco: it was beige! At the time the press release insisted that the choice had been made exactly to pay hommage to one of Coco Chanel's favorite colors.
Perhaps the most successful and discreetly seductive use of beige has been in Chanel's trademark two-toned shoes, originally conceived as slingbacks in 1957, which she called souliers. Raymond Massaro, the shoemaker attached to the house, along with his father, was responsible for production at that time. Beige provided optical lengthening of the calf, while the black, slightly sqaure toe shortened the foot, making feet look dainty. Their discreetly fetishistic sensuality is ladylike, alluding to nude smooth skin without any trace of vulgarity. It makes me think of images of Jean Shrimpton in Melbourne, ladylike prim in her minidress and two-toned Chanel flats, and the tactile curves of suave luxury cars. Exactly what Beige by Chanel is all about!

Hawthorn or aubépine, the leitmotif in Beige, is rendered synthetically in perfumes for several decades. Produced via anisic aldehyde* (p-methoxy benzaldehyde) it has been sublimely woven into the gauzy cloth of Après L’Ondée by Guerlain (where it sings along with heliotropin), which Beige indirectly references. The fluffy, almondy "note" is also used in many contemporary fragrances, from the top note allied to violets of Paris by Yves Saint Laurent to niche offerings L'eau d'Hiver by F.Malle and Daim Blond by Serge Lutens. This shady, dusty smell that borders on a wistful gourmand resembles the tender caress of a godmother fulfilling much anticipated wishes. Much like the latter fragrances Beige resolutely eschews retro allusions to enter the territory of modern compositions. Sketched around this core the sparkling, fresh, lathery ambience of a note that resembles lily of the valley synthetic approximations and the discreet garland of tropical blooms frangipani and ylang-ylang -alluding to No.5 Sensual Elixir- reveal a creamy sensuality gaining momentum slowly.

But the most surprising effect of Beige (and I am astonished I am the first to notice it) comes when you have waited for it for a couple of hours to dry on skin or blotter: the final accord is very much that of Infusion d'Iris by Prada! The woody powdery effect resembles Ambré 83, a sweet base produced by Laboiratoires De Laire that focuses on benzoin, vanilla and honey, diluted five-fold. De Laire, founded in 1878, is famous for producing among other things the bases Prunol, Bouvardia and the infamous Mousse de Saxe for parfums Caron. Ambré 83 is the perfect bridge for perfumes with rich floral parts, such as L'eau de Circé by Parfumerie Generale and sometimes contributes to the linear effect of fragrances. Beige sustains the powdery woody effect for a long time, although it might benefit in terms of initial emotional response if made into a denser concentration, such as extrait de parfum.

If Chanel aimed at providing an instantly approachable, modern and restrained fragrance, they have undoubtedly succeeded. Much like Infusion d'Iris, with its feminine flounces coupled with masculine sparsness, Beige will appeal to women and men alike, floral-lovers as well as floral-haters and will prove to be a best-seller. Personally I would have liked if it included the black toe of the Chanel shoes that provides the arresting counterpoint. But for that I can revert to the more individual smokiness of Sycomore.

Official Notes for Chanel Beige: hawthorn, freesia, frangipani, honey.

Beige bu Chanel comes in the austere bottles of Les Exclusifs, in 200ml of Eau de Toilette. It's currently a Saks exclusive but later will be featured in all the usual places where Les Exclusifs are exclusively available.

*Anisic Aldehyde results upon oxidation of anethol which is contained in anise oil, star anise oil and fennel oil. It's also present in the extract of Tahiti vanilla and in Roman and French cassie blossom oils.

Photo "Beige Swede against beige wall", courtesy of Trudy/flickr. Pic of Beige bottle via press release. Pic of Chanel two-tone Mary Janes through Ebay.

The Spy who Came In from the Cold ~Rive Gauche by Saint Laurent: fragrance review

“What KGB agents would have worn to seduce James Bond”* is not a bad description for any fragrance. But when it applies to an Yves Saint Laurent one you know it has the pedigree and the icy demeanor of Daniela Bianchi in From Russia with Love. Ian Flemming was no shrinking violet when it came to assigning fragrances to his literary heroines, starting with Vent Vert{1} and Guerlain’s Ode{2} and progressing to Chanel No.5{3} and Caron’s Muguet{4}. It would be intriguing to imagine Rive Gauche among the arsenal of his femmes exceptionelles!

Rive Gauche came out in 1971, aimed as the griffe of Laurent’s ready-to-wear line by the same name, meaning “left bank”. Left of the Seine of course, the place of abode for young bohemians and artists at the time. Created by Jacques Polge when his Chanel in-house position was perhaps but a distant dream (Henri Robert was composing the fragrances of Chanel at the time, specifically No.19) Rive Gauche was directly influenced by the ground-breaking Calandre (1969) by Paco Rabanne (which took its name from a car’s radiator grill in French breaking ties with romantic traditions). Like its predecessor it was a modern take on aldehydic fragrances. Contrary to the take-off note of aldehydes in Chanel No.22, where they shine with all the might of a soprano coloratura to extreme sweetness, in Rive Gauche, as well as in Calandre, the aldehydic hit upon spraying is snowy-cold, drier and with all the paradox of the Brave New World ahead: the two fragrances share a metallic rose of frosty petals that tingles the nose rendering that most romantic of blossoms into a hologram of a flower, underscored with the touch of green powder in the form of cool iris and vetiver, the enigma of the spy who came in from the cold.

Aimed at the young, Rive Gauche projected the audacious profile of a chic woman always dressed in electric blue like the silver-banded canister itself. One who flirts freely with a touch of bravado. Yet the fragrance now seems a little caught in the whirlwind of its era although its appeal never fades: it smells classy, not raunchy; mysteriously blue floral, yet non romantic English bone-china-pattern-style ~it’s flinty! And its amazingly salient characteristic is smelling fabulous on just about anyone: any difference of opinion is accountable down to perception and personal taste.

Rive Gauche for Women was savagely altered in a reformulation during the Tom Ford tenure as artistic director of Yves Saint Laurent, with some difference in packaging. A men’s version was introduced in 2003 (in my opinion redundant as the feminine could be worn by a man of confidence), a “formule Intense” which reportedly is closer to the original and thus worth testing if you have fond memories of the latter. The 2004 Rive Gauche Light for women is but a pale shadow of itself, while the non-alcoholic Rive Gauche Fraîcheur from 1995 is a hazy watercolor interpretation that I am sad to report is terribly fleeting.

Notes:Aldehydes, leaf note, galbanum, gardenia, narcissus, jasmine, rose, orris, honeysuckle, sandalwood, oakmoss, vetiver, tonka bean.

Ref:
*Susan Irvine in "The Perfume Guide".
{1: in Live and Let Die, Goldfinger}
{2: in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service}
{3: in The Man with the Golden Gun}
{4: in Goldfinger}

Pic of Bjork by Jean Baptiste Mondino courtesy of MondinoUpdate.net. Pic of Rive Gauche ad courtesy of parfumdepub.

Jacques Polge for Chanel

A clip with Jacques Polge, in-house perfumer of Chanel, in which he explains the necessity of perfume.
You can also see the procedure of securing the neck of the extrait de parfum bottles with thread and a wax seal, properly called baudruchage (the coiling of the silk thread),barbichage and brossage (the following steps into securing the neck and seperating the ends of the thread). The whole process might take up to an hour.



Please check back later for the first blog review of Solange Cosmic.

Clip through Captain Lucas Inc.