Chanel Les Exclusifs Misia: fragrance review

Few toiletry indulgences feel more decadently feminine than owning a fine goose down puff for applying face or body powder. Few rituals feel more delicately ballet-like in their choreographed sequence than the traditional powdering of the body, fresh out of a bath, using said goose down puff with small pat pat pat motions that are as close to caresses as they are to little slaps, both erotic provenance of the demi-mondaines of another time. Misia the fragrance encapsulates in liquid form this graceful dance in Chanel's 15th Les Exclusifs perfume launch, redolent of the retro makeup scents of yesterday.

Emanuelle Beart in Le Temps Retrouvé by Raoul Ruiz via

Chanel via its new head perfumer, Olivier Polge, son of Jacques, only the fourth perfumer in the revered history of the French brand, bows to Guerlain's Après L'Ondée; a composition from the first years of the 20th century based on the ethereal marriage of heliotrope, violet and iris. Yet Chanel's Misia, like the eponymous lady friend of Gabrielle Chanel's it was named after, holds its own ground as well, an outstanding entry for Polge junior regardless of the trodden course. 

Olivier Polge may have excelled in Dior Homme previously, exploring the cocoa dust facets of the iris note in a men's scent, but it is in this feminine composition that he propels the retro facets of iris in their logical apogee, somewhere between the retro cool powder of Love Chloe and the earthy dustiness of Norma by Histoires de Parfums.  The "lipstick note" is after all its own perfumery meme, swirling its tutu years ago with Drole de Rose by L'Artisan Parfumeur and stomping its foot down naming names in Lipstick Rose in the Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle line. (Even Guerlain revisits their own themes, what with Meteorites limited edition fragrance and now with French Kiss.) Chanel's lipsticks account for a huge segment of the brand, so walking down that road felt like a given.

After all, Polge Junior has something of the Midas touch in him; count with me: Flowerbomb, La Vie Est Belle, Mon Jasmin Noir, Burberry The Beat...

The intensely powdery, starchy cloud of orris (the dried rhizome of iris flowers) is at the very heart of Misia with very perceptible cool, sweet violets for "lipstick" (α methyl ionone); in fact the very scent of proper, ladylike lipsticks with their violet-rose aura which separates the teens from the grown ups. While Misia starts with a bittersweet top note reminiscent of time-honored perfumery aubepine-heliotropin chord, the heart of the fragrance is pure cosmetic impression, an archetype of grooming and of la salonnière. Polge used both rose of Grasse and Bulgarian Damask rose for the floral component and a cluster of benzoin resin (caramelic, vanilla plush), tonka beans (hay and almond like) and modern musks for the downy soft drydown.

“I thought of the Palais Garnier in the days of the Ballets Russes: pearls and aigrettes in the women’s hair melding with the scent of red-tinted lips; the sound of musicians tuning their instruments; and the dancers wearing make-up from head-to-toe, warming up behind red velvet curtains. I thought of how to interpret lipstick and powders into a perfume and decided to use violet dressed with rose de Mai and Turkish rose, which trigger memories of lipstick, while the benzoin I added creates a powdery effect, like make-up. It’s very feminine and floral but it’s also sumptuous. The strong violet accord is a new ingredient in the grammar of Chanel”  reveals Polge to Lucia van der Post.

It was Polish muse Misia Sert, née Maria Sofia Olga Zenajda Godebska, a Belle Epoque fixture and the subject of many a Renoir and Bonnard painting, who introduced Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel to many of her subsequent fixtures; Venice, baroque, Les Ballets Russes, Paul Reverdy...
She was also the confidant to whom Chanel poured her heart out to when the latter lost her first true love, Arthur "Boy" Capel, to a car crash.

In a way Misia the fragrance aims to be as emblematic and prophetic of great things ahead as Misia the muse was to Chanel's career. May it prove so!

Chanel Les Exclusifs Misia eau de toilette is offered in 75ml and 200ml bottles with magnetic closure, same as the rest of boutique exclusive Les Exclusifs perfumes.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: 
Best Violet fragrances guide
Powdery & Dry Perfumes
Parfums Lingerie: intimate femininity

Chanel Les Exclusifs Misia: new fragrance

The fragrance line Les Exclusifs by Chanel has been having its ups and downs through the years, but it has always appealed to customers who are interested in perfume first and foremost, with the famous logo as an addendum rather than the whole raison d'être of the purchase.

Les Exclusifs Misia, named after the best friend of Gabrielle Bonheur (Coco) Chanel, joins the wondrous juices of 31 Rue Cambon, Sycomore, Coromandel, Beige et al, in the exclusive circuit sold at Chanel boutiques and online at the official site of Chanel.com, encased in magnetic closure bottles holding either 200ml or 75ml.

Misia Les Exclusifs by Chanel comprises fragrance notes of violet, May rose from Grasse, Turkish rose, orris, benzoin, tonka bean, and musks. The fragrance of Misia is composed by in-house perfumer Olivier Polge.

Chanel is after all busy in business as usual, with even news of "looking to open a new factory in the Compiègne area of France, creating several hundred jobs and perhaps 10,000 tangential jobs for suppliers in the region", according to French local newspaper, the Courrier Picard.

For those interested in the story between the two women, Lisa Chaney's biography Chanel: An intimate life and Justine Picardie's classic tome Chanel: Sa Vie are both thorough and highly recommended. You can order them following the highlighted links.

notes via Fragrantica

Chanel Les Exclusifs 1932: new fragrance

This is a tah da da ta da post, of the "I told you so" variety. Eons ago (actually a year ago, but it feels that way in perfume land) I had posted how "1932" was going to be the next Chanel Les Exclusifs fragrance. The perfume news are confirmed. Rejoice!

The new Les Exclusifs de Chanel 1932 fragrance is arriving at selected boutiques on March 1st 2013.
The scent is touted to be a powdery floral focused on jasmine. The new fragrance is reportedly made available for the first time to the general public as part of Les Exclusifs whereas the perfume was originally offered for purchase only to the customers of Chanel’s haute joiallerie line, specifically named to echo the new "Chanel 1932 collection". The perfume is named after the year in which Chanel launched its jewelry collection and bears NO relation with the vintage Ivoire fragrance by Chanel issued in the year 1932. It is a NEW creation developed by the Chanel house perfumers.

Edit to update: Fragrance Notes for "Chanel Les Exclusifs 1932":
Top notes: aldehydes, bergamot, neroli
Heart: jasmine, rose, lilac, carnation, ylang-ylang
Base: vetiver, sandalwood, opoponax, orris root, coumarin, ambrette, musk, incense, vanilla, iralia*
*Iralia is a base with a pronounced iris and violet character patented by Firmenich

Chanel Les Exclusifs Jersey: Now Available for Purchase

One of the anticipated launches of the season, the newest Chanel exclusive fragrance (part of Les Exclusifs), Jersey, the news of whose launch we broke on these pages, is now available for purchase in time for the lead-up to Christmas shopping: The fragrance is named after one of Coco Chanel's favourite fabrics: jersey, a fabric she prized for its ease and fluidity, which fred women from the constraints of the previous era.

The fragrance follows this concept, "an inspired composition, [...] evocative of a meadow lush with lavender — an essence previously worn only by men.
A tender trail of Vanilla and Musk brings femininity to the forefront, and a rare, sophisticated new scent is born".
Credited to in-house perfumer Jacques Polge, responsible for safekeeping the Chanel tradition, the newest Chanel perfume is available for ordering on the official Chanel website.

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.

Chanel Les Exclusifs: Size Small For Fit

Finally...It was a long-held rumour but it just became a fact. After the 'demand' of so many for some scaling down of the honkers (each scent in Les Exclusifs came in a 200ml -otherwise awesome- bottle), Chanel is now officially offering them in the travel-friendly size of 75ml/2.5oz which they affectionately call "petit flacons". The line-up doesn't include all the fragrances though: only Beige, Sycomore, Eau de Cologne and Coromandel benefit. Apparently they're the best-sellers.
Let's hope the less commercially viable ones follow.
STOP THE PRESS ADDITION: Indeed Chanel sales representatives have been informed that the smaller 75ml bottles will be available in ALL Les Exclusifs Eau de Toilette scents in February 2011.
How's that?

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.

Sycomore by Chanel: fragrance review

"Do you come from Heaven or rise from the abyss, Beauty?
Your gaze, divine and infernal,
Pours out confusedly benevolence and crime,
And one may for that, compare you to wine ...
From God or Satan, who cares? Angel or Siren,
Who cares, if you make— fay with the velvet eyes,

Rhythm, perfume, glimmer; my one and only queen!
The world less hideous, the minutes less leaden?"
~Hymn to Beauty, Charles Baudelaire

In 1930, Coco Chanel had a dream: she envisioned the perfect, most beautiful woody perfume that was baroque in feeling, yet bore no frills. The result, Sycomore, a 'woody scent with balsamic notes' composed by her Russian perfumer Ernest Beaux, was not appreciated in its time and soon disappeared. Just shy of 80 years in the making, Jacques Polge and Christopher Sheldrake, resident noses at Chanel, recomposed the woody vision of mademoiselle Coco and the finished fragrance forms part of Les Exclusifs ~Chanel's prestige line. The two however do not bear any similarity: The vintage Sycomore had "a distinct tobacco-violet note and all the other elements (few) built to enhance this idea" according to Octavian Coifan while in comparison the new version is very much centered around true vetiver; and a smokey one at that.
In many ways it is a departure from the other iris-ladden Les Exclusifs which affirm their Chanel pedigree by use of costly raw materials evoking segments of previous successes of the brand. Sycomore does not.

Sycomore instead emphasizes its aristocratic dryness of humble origin with a tangy grapefruit opening and subtly cooling, clean muguet notes that complement the Haitian vetiver variety, also used in Guerlain Vétiver, so well. Almost simultaneously it allows soft impressions of a warm incense cloud slowly setting upon evergreen needles and rooty dirt (a la Route de Vétiver by Maître Parfumeur et Gantier) to uplift you into a wistful and introspective contemplation of life and mortality. And if you lower your head and pay attention to its murmur, a resinous, only marginally sweet touch of the licorice note that naturally arises in several distillations of the material itself, slightly reminiscent of Dior's Eau Noire drydown, vibrates at a low frequency, along with woodfire smoke.

Officially marketed as feminine for women who do not like flowery compositions, yet cunningly poised between the two sexes, it has an hermaphrodite side that whispers of something mysteriously chic, chastetly beautiful and utterly unattainable; like Björn Andrésen, the youth Tadzio in Luchino Visconti's 1971 "Death in Venice" (the film adaptation of Thomas Mann's masterful novel).
His remarkable androgynous beauty prompted feminist Germaine Greer to use a photograph of Andrésen on the cover of her book "The Beautiful Boy" (2003). She would have approved of a scent strip of Sycomore tucked in there too.



The musical score is Gustav Mahler's "Adagietto" from his 5th Symphony.

Notes for Sycomore (2008) by Chanel: Vetiver, cypress, juniper, pink pepper, smoke, burning woods.

Sycomore is available at $190 for 200ml Eau de Toilette exclusively at Chanel boutiques. Considering it uncharacteristically lasts quite well, it is an investement.

Andrésen pic via moviemail-online.co.uk Bottle pic via Vogue.com.tw
Clip originally uploaded by AssimQuePuderes on Youtube.

Chanel Beige: new addition to Les Exclusifs?

It's uncanny how one comes across the most shocking and astounding news sometimes. Forcing us to interrupt what is a series of posts on something particular even! On hindsight, since I am about to talk about Sycomore by Chanel later on (as it is a vetiver-based scent after all), maybe it isn't that irrelevant as it seemed at first.
But let's revert to how I found out about it. There I was casually reading one of the blogs I visit often, Perfume Posse, and LizS posted this:
"I was jogging by Saks in NYC last night, and they have in the window all the les exclusifs by Chanel. There is a HUGE poster of one called BEIGE. its sitting next to the bottle of Sycomore. New Release?? I can’t find out any info online…has anyone else heard of this? I hadn’t been to Saks this weekend despite seeing the window displays, I guess I didn’t notice the name on the bottle".

Of course 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. According to Octavian Coifan, fragrance and fashion historian:

"Chanel created in 1929 a very fresh spring collection with dresses in red/blue/beige in jersey (a sport style with stripes and geometric pattern) as depicted in a Vogue review from that year. In the same year Jean Patou launched Le Sien, the "unisex" perfume (chypre) that was inspired also by the sport spirit. Chanel and Patou promoted in those years a day fashion inspired by sports, with geometric patterns and young look. Maybe Chanel wanted to answer Patou's sport perfume (Le Sien = Her's) with her famous colours - red, blue and beige - used in jersey's sport dresses. But those perfumes are also an echo of the French Flag (bleu, blanc, rouge)".

The fragrance itself is described as echoing the composition of No.5 (much like the other two in the triptych do), yet the resulting scent being like a cross between Vol de Nuit and Arpege (which is formidable I bet!). The basic chord seems to be jasmine, orris and amber.

So what is happening? Is Chanel planning on re-introducing their old Beige (and maybe eventually more older compositions) in their Les Exclusifs lineup? Or are they changing the formula enough not to resemble the vintage, very rare juice, like they did with the chic Sycomore? (another defunct Chanel from the days of Mademoiselle). Are Bleu and Rouge next?
And why are they aiming these splurgingly luxurious fragrances at the American audiences first? May I remind you that the equally quitessential house of Guerlain went the same route with their exclusive editions of Cruel Gardénia and Spirituese Double Vanille...which is interesting in terms of marketing, to say the least.
The plot thickens; mark my words!

Pic of Beige by Chanel courtesy of Octavian Coifan.

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

Eau de Cologne from Chanel Les Exclusifs: fragrance review

Eau de Cologne from Chanel is just what the doctor prescribed for those lazy, hot summer days when you don't have the mental energy to think straight and pick a scent that won't clash with the humidity and the heat.

And it is now as good a time as any to dispel the myths around this type of scent named Eau de Cologne. Usually it is what men in the United States say they use. This is actually a tradition that has to do with avoiding the unpleasant connotations of the term Eau de toilette and not an accurate rendition of what they put exactly on their skin. Too many times you will hear men saying that and in fact what they use is Eau de toilette. The notion of why this is so undelicate a concept to grasp dawned on me after a discussion on the correct etiquette on asking to use a toilet in someone's house. I had been told that it's customary to say "bathroom" even if you're not going to actually bathe in there. Suffice to say that this particular delicasy of phrase has escaped my more sturdy european ears and we do use the term toilet aplenty. However faire la toilette is also the french term for preening and in that regard Eau de toilette fits in really well, as it is part of the ritual (hence the name of course).

Another type of mix up happens because Eau de Cologne is not just a concentration of a scent at the counter of any fragrance line, but also a special type of scent recipe, harking back to 1370 and the first alcoholic perfumed mix prepared for the Queen Elizabeth of Hungary. This got named Hungary Water and is still around today. However it took it a couple of centuries more, to become the Eau de Cologne that became famous in 1792 under the name 4711 Echt Kolnisch Wasser, after the homonymous town in Germany (Koln/Cologne) where it was produced. The house that produced it is called Muelhens (although now 4711 is owned by Wella), the name comes from the original address of the Muelhens shop and they claimed they got the recipe from a Carthusian monk nammed Farina who gave this as a wedding gift to William Muelhens. Its first name was "aqua mirabilis" (water of miracles) due to its stimulating, antibacterial properties that warded off disease and acted as a tonic. A different story attribues the origins to Farmaceutica di Santa Maria Novella in Florence (which was founded in 1612) where the monks manufactured the Aqua della Regina (water of the queen), made for Catherine de Medici who upon coming to Paris inaugurated the tradition of perfumery to the french capital. There suppossedly the recipe was copied by Paul Feminis and the vogue for eaux de cologne flourished well into the coming years. [You can read the history of Eau de Cologne on this link. ]

The classic recipe of Eau de Cologne includes bright citrusy notes of bergamot, petitgrain (the essence from the stems of the bitter orange tree) along with neroli and some fruit rind's expressed oil (such as lemon or orange), garlanded with herbs such as lavender and rosemary, the odd floral note (rose for instance, as is the case in 4711) and a light underpinning of a more sturdy base note that would anchor the scent so it doesn't evaporate into thin air too soon.

In Chanel's case the given notes for its new Eau de Cologne are:
neroli, bergamot, citrus, musk, vetiver.

Indeed as one sprays the succulent juice on the skin a burst of bright, sunny, slightly bitter citrus fruits explodes and envelops the wearer in a sunny vignette of times gone by. Like people dressed in striped maillots preparing for a swim in a cosmopolitan beach, eau de cologne always brings to my mind a memory of lazy languid summer days of yore when parents and granparents started for the beach with panache and straightforward style. Think those classic Breton matelots and you're there. Soon the whole sweetens and obtains a rounder neroli and musky ambience that is supported by a light yet sensual backdrop. It does not last too long alas, which is of course the nature of such fleeting things, like a quick dip in the refreshing blue waters, but it does provide so much enjoyment while it does.
The gigantic 400ml bottle is prefectly made for lavishing this on with reckless abandon.

Pic by Nick Moschos courtesy of eikastikon.gr

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.

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.

Coromandel from Chanel Les Exclusifs: fragrance review

In the whole line of Les Exclusifs, one scent stands as trully lasting and sillage worthy. It's Coromandel, a dry ambery oriental advertised as "an oriental fragrance using a tree resin called benzoin, which has vanilla-like properties" inspired by the chinese lacquered panels that were abundant in Chanel's apartment, Coromandel denoting the company producing them and not the style of the panels.
The baroque appartment of Gabrielle/Coco Chanel on Rue Cambon, although not her place of actual abode (she used to stay at the homonymous suite at the Ritz in Paris), served as a background drop of her innermost luxury hedonist. And it was the basis of inspiration for another one of Jacques Polge's perfumes, Coco original, a spicy oriental, back in 1984. In it indeed a very opulent composition is evoking odalisques spread on leather sofas, weighted down by copious amounts of bronze and antique gold jewels.

Coromandel is described as "not innocent", as it is "weighted by frankincense" and "contains a hint of the heavier spices of the East".
Although I am a spicy oriental type, this sounded a bit like a rehash of Coco, of which for better or worse I a not a great fan and so before sampling I was almost certain that it would be too much for me, reserving instead my expectations for no.18. It soon proved that I was mistaken.
The initial impression is that of a citrusy, orange-like pipe tobacco mix rolled in powder, much like the one encountered upon meeting that vixen little scent called Fifi by lingerie designer Fifi Chachnil or a slightly less milky Fumerie Turque. In fact it could very well be a similar idea to that explored by the newer Burberry London for men.
Perhaps the orange impression derives from the inclusion of frankincense, a resin that sometimes gives off a sweet citric tang while burning.
A sweet lush note throughout is echoing subtly like vanilla pods immersed in fruity liquor and it opens up and expands on the wings of aged patchouli, mellow, soft, sweet and inviting. It would seem like the most glorious thing, if it were not for it being a little derivative of their Allure Sensuelle with a touch of Borneo by Serge Lutens and Prada thrown in for good measure. The influence Angel has had on the market in general is astounding to behold! Never mind that my favourite patchouli ever is Film Noir by Ayala Moriel.
Yet where Borneo is an inconoclastic dark patchouli laced with dark roasted coffee and Prada is an insolent single-minded young rebel that wants to shock her conservative environment in a relatively safe way, much like Muicia herself liked to do, Allure Sensuelle and consequently Coromandel do not dare push the envelope even in playful jest. They are not terribly innovative, although between the two Coromandel is much more complex and alluring.

Luckily, the pervading dryness along with just a touch of frankincense for a sense of mystery, not showcasing amber in any great degree all the while, provides a great balance to the sweeter vanilla elements and makes the whole not puff up in blue clouds of smoke, but stay the night on warm skin and well used sheets.
Sexy, yet not terribly imaginative. A cinnabar-hued brocade jacket, upper button undone with black camelia Chanel earrings. C'est ça!

Art photography by Chris Borgman courtesy of his site.

Bel Respiro from Chanel Les Exclusifs: fragrance review

In continuation of examining Chanel Les exclusifs a little bit closer, one cannot but notice that they are all inspired and drawing elements from olfactory creations past from the archives of the house.
Bel Respiro is another similar case, as is 28 La Pausa -discussed yesterday- in its own way as well.

Named after one of Mlle. Chanel's houses on the outskirts of Paris Bel Respiro is meant "to evoke stems, leaves and springtime". Does it succeed in this endeavour? It does in part. It draws inspiration by the verdancy of both Chanel#19 and some aspects of Cristalle, especially in the eau de parfum formulation (which incidentally was meant as a completely different interpretation of the theme of the old Eau de toilette by the addition of floral elements such as honeysuckle and lily of the valley, advertised with the tag line "Cristalle grows up!" when it launched in 1993). Even the vetiver drydown of Chance is making a hushed appareance, which in my opinion is Chance's one redeeming quality and the reason it just escapes from being irrecovably linked to my mind to images of teen girls sucking on a fruity lollipop.

The green bite of galbanum, a stemmy aroma that according to perfume guru Arctander evokes "green peppers or tossed green salad" is present lending a bracing start in the vein of Sisley's Eau de Campagne (devised by Jean Claude Ellena) or the classic Vent Vert by Germain Cellier. However the effect is much more timid in Bel Respiro, as if they are a little afraid to frighten the customer with too much of a herbal smell that would clash with their bourgeois attire. Despite that hesitation the start does evoke languid summer days, lying on the grass, the breeze through one's hair, not a care in the world.

This is soon betrayed by the homogenous sweetness that is prevalent in almost all of the new Exclusifs and is obeying to the dictatorship of the wearable. Of course for a scent to be wearable is not a fault per se. It's the relative lack of daring imagination that is a little disappointing to witness, because my expectations were so high. The sweetness is not unpleasant, it is classy with a promise of creaminess, however the lack of depth that is usually associated with creamy florals makes this pale and rather limp, as if it features an aqueous quality that I thought had been long abandoned (but I guess is not). It also gives the impression of a sweet posy of hyacinths subtly smelled across the numerous rooms of a grand mansion, decaying slowly in their vase. Don't get me wrong, I like a slight hint of decay and death in floral fragrances, but in this particular case the discrepancy between herbal opening and sweet drydown does not excite me. The minimalism displayed in the whole line is not convicing in its bouquet.

Chanel #19 and Cristalle in eau de parfum (also by Polge) succeed much more in marrying the deep emerald accords with the lush florancy, giving complexity and substance that sadly Bel respiro lacks. If Bel Respiro had that divine quality which I am seeking it would resemble the luminous feathered tail of a peacock.

It is not a bad fragrance; in fact if I had to choose, I think along with 28 La Pausa and Coromandel (contrary to my initial unsniffed expectations), they would be safe choices that correspond to most of my lifestyle's situations I envision them to be worn. However, to tell you the truthm I am not so keen on purchasing a full bottle of Bel Respiro simply for the reason that I am deeply enamoured of Chanel#19 which satisfies me on every possible level. Nice try, however!

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

Chanel Les Exclusifs: new perfume direction or perfume snobbery?

The new perfume line of Chanel was trumpeted all around the Netsphere with bated breath anticipation, reveries of upcoming delights and awe-stricken reception when the bottles finally landed in the boutiques. It was Chanel, they were super exclusive, it was le dernier cri! They were touted to be the new direction in perfumery and the 6 bottles you had to make room for on your dresser, per one critic, to the eclipse of all others.
Almost a fortnight later I think we are in a position to evaluate things with a clearer head and give what’s due without histrionics of teen fan excitement.

Chanel has a rich olfactory tradition to keep. Mainly because she revolutionized modern perfumery with her innovative Chanel #5 and the subsequent masterpieces of Ernest Beaux, like Bois des Iles, #22, Cuir de Russie and the older version of Gardenia. (I am saying older because the thin, pale, jasmine-rich specter of today does not fulfill the above given title). The luminous star lighting an enchanted forest that was to become Chanel #19 was to be launched years later, in 1970, created by Henri Robert. The Chanel brand languished after Coco’s death in 1971, for years remaining the doyen of the “old ladies” who dressed conservatively (how ironic given it was Coco who revolutionized women’s wear at the beginning of the century!). And yet it was an inescapable reality for years. It took the daring of Karl Lagerfeld to re-enter Chanel into young people’s consciousness with biker jackets decorated with camellias, torn skirt hems and tall boots with the characteristic two-tone instep. The brand witnessed a resurgence. At about that time Jacques Polge was hired as head perfumer, one of the few that remained in that position when houses stopped this time-honoured practice and were issuing briefs to big perfume companies who concocted various brews according to market research and evolving trends all through the 80s and 90s. Chanel instead produced Coco, Egoiste, Allure and oversaw the introduction of an eau de parfum concentration for Cristalle that utilized a different formula, giving it a more sophisticated chyprish feel.
And then something happened: as if Polge’s creativity unwound and he started producing crowd pleasers that would fit in with the trends: Coco Mademoiselle (surely inspired by the staggering success of the gourmands and the emerging vogue for patchouli), Chance (a lighter and fresher Coco Mlle), Allure Sensuelle (is it me or is this the least innovative of all of Chanel’s offerings?). Those all worked well, sold lots (no mean feat, granted) and everyone should feel happy, right?

However this is not how minds worked at Chanel evidently. Perfume is a highly snob business it seems, because as perfume has become a commodity to be shared by the masses (what was once the unwashed masses of dirty boulevards is now the average clean consumer who buys a gift for oneself or a loved one at a department store) the allure of the exclusive, the luxurious and the rare had escaped Chanel. Sure, there were the elusive Exclusive Rue Cambon scents, a collection of classics that was re-issued in the 90s for the delectation of perfume aficionados available at Chanel boutiques. All the same, the exclusivity was not 100% there, because that devil of an Internet, that Gloss.com site had secured rights to sell the Rue Cambon collection to the public on-line. Everyone in the US, from the stay at home wife in Minnesota to the career lady in a demanding job at Rhodes Island could secure a bottle of exclusivity cachet in the form of a bottle of Bois des Iles or Cuir de Russie. So that cachet was not really what it seemed to be. Anyone in the know and with a little amount of money could partake of it. That was simply unacceptable by the clientele of Chanel couture who probably wanted their own elite fragrances to go with their expensive gowns (let’s not forget that Chanel is a house that charges for giving you extra buttons for your missing ones in your clothes!) Or so I am guessing.

Hence the new line of Les Exclusifs was conceived: Bel Respiro, Coromandel, No 18, 28 La Pausa, Eau de Cologne and 31 Rue Cambon. All inspired by places and objects that were tied to Coco Chanel herself.
And sticking to the idea that it had to be something niche and ultra-luxurious it transpired that they should perhaps mimic the concept of other lines and houses which imbued their foot into the great pool of the niche perfumery: Hermessences with their very successful Jean Claude Ellena signature minimalist style, Armani Prive with their austere architectural bottles, Dior Collection with their unique aromas. Guerlain of course was a different proposition as they are a perfume house to begin with and they had inaugurated a boutique full of exclusives in Paris.
Chanel was the only great house that had not tried that field. It seemed like high time.

And henceforth Polge got into the act. It had been published that Chris Sheldrake, the Australian genius working under the maestro baguette of Serge Lutens at Palais Royal Shiseido was under contract to work for Chanel. However, it was to be as deputy perfumer while Polge remained head nose. Eyebrows were raised, questioning gazes were exchanged into the netsphere and the thing soon subsided. There is simply no official confirmation if Sheldrake worked on the new Exclusifs. We’ll leave it at that till further notice.

Anyhow, the 6 new fragrances were issued as gigantic 200ml bottles of eau de toilette concentration at a staggering price of 180 euros. I know that ml for ml the price isn’t steep (it would be 45 euros for 50ml to give you an idea) In fact doing the comparative math we deduce that it is quite economical compared with the Hermessences for example. However the fact that they have not talked about smaller bottles being available makes them a little pretentious and destined to be used as decadent splashes. Which their concentration and lack of sillage call for.
This is weird coming from a brand that caters to bourgeois tastes: people shopping for perfume in this prerogative want everyone to be conscious of their luxurious choice of fragrance leaving a trail behind and it is exactly that that’s hard to do with the new Exclusifs. The abundance of juice hints at a desire to abandon restraint and just spray away, a concept that somehow brings to my mind nuances of snobbism, in a world where there are people who are starving. The Eau de Cologne, one of the 6, even comes in a dinosaur size of 400ml! I cannot imagine the hands that are supposed to yield such a ginormous vehicle of scented consumerism.

The style and character of the scents themselves is like academic mannerism in my mind, because they do echo nuances of other Chanel creations: the incense of no.22 and the patchouli of Allure Sensuelle crop up in the tempered oriental of Coromandel, the iris and verdancy of Chanel #19 in 28 La Pausa and Bel Respiro, the tartness and citrus twist of Cristalle in Eau de Cologne and so on. I don’t know if this was intentional or a case of unconscious association (perfumery is such a pretentious field that it wouldn’t surprise me if they claimed that); as it is, it begs the question: why buy something new when the old is perfectly all right and vastly superior at that?
The new oakmoss-free chypre in 31 Rue Cambon may be trying to revolutionize the industry with the iris-pepper accord that supposedly mimics the traditional sophistication of a chypre perfume, yet it evolves as a light floriental on skin, certainly not the sophisticated bombastic effect of what we are accustomed to view as chypre. Perhaps my ominous, foreboding feeling that perfumery will never be the same after all those restrictions is not so pessimistic after all. It would pain me to really believe it, yet 31 Rue Cambon does not do much to alleviate the feeling, lovely as it trully is to sniff.
For fragrances that had been touted as the new direction in perfumery they distinctly lack a compass into the unknown and seem to tread well known waters with simple, unfinished accords that try to appear modern yet do not do so with firm conviction. Something tells me that Polge who is a self-professed oriental lover does not feel comfortable composing sparse oeuvres of a John Cage nature. He would be more in tune in doing a Prokofiev. And yet, someone somehow has managed to elicit those reactions in the lab, producing 6 new scents at a time frame that used to be adequate for only one or two great ones.

I will come back with more analytical reviews on each one of them; however I needed to be harsh this time. They can afford it, I gather….

Top pic from the film "Much ado about nothing" by Kenneth Branagh. Middle pic from imagesdesparfums