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

Guerlain Les Parisiennes exclusive line: New Developments, Discontinuations & Look

Anyone who receives the Guerlain catalogue for the year has witnessed a change in one of the most acclaimed lines in the historic brand's portfolio, namely Les Parisiennes, the depository of the older creations by Jean-Paul Guerlain and other perfumers working for the brand, producing a range that is esteemed as refined luxury. A change which unfolds three ways: Two additions to the line (one ressurected from a limited edition of 10 years ago, the other slightly less), some discontinuations and a new look for the masculine side of the venerable stable.

To be specific...



Two additions in Guerlain "Les Parisiennes" boutique-only line (125 ml including removable atomizer for 180 €):

Nuit de Amour we had announced being re-issued and joining Les Parisiennes in the standard "bee bottle" instead of the original quadrilobe a while ago on this article. Now comes Cherry Blossom eau de toilette. Originally a limited edition from 2000 in the Louis XV flacon(seen above) that also housed Apres L'Ondee extrait, it was created for the sakura season that is celebrated in Japan. [There was also Cherry Blossom Delight from 1999]. The Guerlain fragrance included cherry blossom, green tea and lemon notes to honor the oriental tradition of lightness and happiness at the coming of spring. The re-issued fragrance was originally signed by Jean Paul Guerlain and is not to be confused with the Aqua Allegoria line's Cherry Blossom (pic when you click here), another interpretation of sakura complimented by a whole makeup collection by the same name issued in spring 2010 .

Two discontinuations in Guerlain "Les Parisiennes" boutique-only line:

Regarding Attrape Coeur (see its other incarnations on this page) we had broken the news on its being pulled off the plug a long while ago. Now that stocks have dried up, it's officially missing from the new 2011 catalogue. Sad...

The other fragrance regretably missing is Philtre d'Amour, which we also had hinted in perfume discussion online that it would be pulled off the market in the near future, the reason being its formula not being possible to conform to IFRA restrcitions (read more on those here).

Of course there is also the by now rare super-refined (chypre-smelling) Plus Que Jamais missing, but we knew that already.



A new look for the masculine "Les Parisiens" (100 ml for 175 €), now Les Exclusifs:

Joining the wooden "frame" of Arsène Lupin Dandy and Arsène Lupin Voyou (both in Eau de Parfum and described on this article), the masculine side of the exclusive line by Guerlain becomes homogenised in looks and stated as Les Exclusifs. The former members of Les Parisiennes intended for the delight of discerning gentlement now will not be featured in the dainty glass bottles with the boule cap and the bees but will come in the more virile-looking oblongs instead.
Thus the Guerlain Les Parisiennes line for men (or is it Les Parisiens?) will comprise:

*Derby (eau de toilette)
*Chamade pour Homme (eau de toilette)
*L'Âme d'un Héros eau de toilette (formerly known as Coriolan
*Arsène Lupin Dandy (eau de parfum) and
*Arsène Lupin Voyou (eau de parfum).

The price per ml is thus rather significantly raised (125 ml for 180€ for the feminine Les Parisiennes vs 100 ml for 175€ for the masculines), a feat not completely justified by the change in packaging I feel.

NB. The international site hasn't been renovated yet to reflect the changes.

A full review & draw for Arsène Lupin Dandy shortly!

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.

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.

A Special Homage: Coco Chanel

Today would have been Coco Chanel's birthday, had she been around and withstanding the scrutiny for her infamous past. No matter what anyone has to say about the lady herself and her tumultous personal life, her enduring style has really changed the way we see fashion and how women dress themselves. That's you see the advantage of avant-garde; making history.

via

Chanel's characteristic use of jersey fabric, pants for women, that do not resemble the harem, the trademark quilted handbags, two-toned pumps, pearls and costume jewelry, the freedom of fluidity & movement in her jackets, the stark usefulness of neutral colors such as beige, white, black and navy and her philosophy of function vs. decoration have made Chanel an icon of the 20th century and a true liberator of women from the constrictive garments of La Belle Epoque. We owe her that much.

Her fragrances of course couldn't but follow her unerring sense of style. The famous Chanel no.5 was followed by many others, notably No.19 commemorating her birthday on August 19th. This is what I am wearing myself today, reveling in both its sharp galbanum and vetiver cutting through the humidity (thick like it could be cut with a knife) and luxurious enough with its orris background.

So in her own honor, please find some related articles of mine on her style, beauty advice, iconography and of course perfumes.
And please share your own experiences with Chanel beauty & perfumes in the comments!

Coco by Chanel: fragrance review

Chanel No.19 & Heure Exquise: Twin Peaks

On Classifying Chanel No.19 & perfume review 

What's the True Story of Chanel No.5?

Cultural history: Exposition Chanel

Chanel No.5 Through the Years

Chanel No.46: fragrance review & history

I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire: Imaginative Fantasies

Chanel Les Exclusifs Misia: fragrance review [And a collective Chanel Les Exclusifs link.]

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.

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

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.

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.

Le Labo Aldehyde 44: fragrance review

The aliphatic aldehydes string of Chanel No.5 is what is termed "aldehydic" in perfumery parlance and characterises a whole sub-group within the floral fragrance family: C10, C11, C12 aldehydes to be exact, creating an accord so memorable it has pervaded fragrance mores for decades. [If you don't know what aldehydes are, refer to this article]. Le Labo's take in Aldehyde 44 is more inspired by the sweeter, soapier, more snowy-capped mountains seen flying above in lesser known (and more American-geared) Godzilla-aldehydic Chanel No.22 and equally American "sharp clean" White Linen by Estee Lauder than muskier-sexier-dirtier (aka Frenchier) No.5 however. Perhaps the fact that it's a Dallas,TX city-exclusive (only Dallas inhabitants and visitors of the city's Le Labo boutique at Barneys can partake of the sprakling waters!) is not totally random as imagined.This is a clean, rested, posh fragrance; depilated, smoothed and hosed and full of energy, not languor.

The opening in the Le Labo fragrance is so old-fashioned elegant and prim in its sharp biting "sparkle", with its citrusy-waxy fat top note, you will be doing a double take to see whether you have been magically transported back to 1955 and wearing a whale-boned petticoat under your skirt. But the perfume is modern, in more ways than one.
The progression is seamless and sustainaibly sour aldehydic into a somewhat metallic musky floralcy in the base, without either too much sweetness or woodiness (The idea of musk at Le Labo can be perversely illusionary anyway, as attested in Musc 25. Perfumer Yann Vasnier is using ambrettolide here in Aldehyde 44, which is a macrocyclic musk, very refined, soapy smelling-fruity in character).
What is characteristic is there is no powderiness in Aldehyde 44, as associated with other retro fragrances that utilize irones and ionones (iris and violets) to denote cosmetic products and old-school face powder. Instead it's citrusy waxy-soapy-fatty, it makes me think it's what an hypothetical child between Ivoire by Balmain and White Linen would be like: the green sudsy oiliness of the former meets the fatty sweetness of the latter, the rosy facets taking on a peppery bite with lots of buds' green, a hint of pear fruit in there too.

If you read that Aldehyde 44 contains woods and vanilla and imagine a comforting scent, you will are in for a nasty surprise: the woods only come from the C12 aldehyde (a pollen-rooty, lilac scent) and the silvery refracting amber synthetic; while the citrusy touches are reminiscent of bitterish, tangy orange rind (which has a resinous quality, not unlike some incense blends) and not marmelade. The floral notes cannot be taken apart, it's an abstract blend where no note rises above the rest. Aldehyde 44 possesses "sweetness" of another kind altogether and it can only be compared to that encountered in No.22 (especially in its less incense-y modern incarnation as part of Les Exclusifs in Eau de toilette) or the classic Lauder referenced above. The sillage is civilized, but definitely there, and the lasting power very good. Lovers of the elegant polished genre, rejoice, this is a well-crafted example; perhaps not totally necessitating the ouchy price-tag nevertheless.

The offficial Le Labo presentation states: "Aldehyde 44 is a small wonder that sits tight between an aldehyde overdose, that gives this scent a unique cleanliness to it, a sublime floral composition that is built around Naracissus, Jasmin, and Tuberose (all Absolute in case you wandered), and a bed of muscs tied with a hint of vanilla. The result is esthetically admirable and unique".

Aldehyde 44 by Le Labo features fragrance notes of: aldehydes, tuberose absolute, jasmine sambac, narcissus absolute, woods, vanilla and musk.

Le Labo Aldehyde 44 is a Dallas, TX city-exclusive, retailing at $290 for 50ml, but only for the month of November it is globally available at Luckyscent and on the official Le Labo site.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:  Le Labo reviews & news , Aldehydes: what they are, how do they smell, where do they shine, Aldehydic fragrances

photo of Cyd Charisse

Lancome Magnifique: fragrance review and musings

C'est magnifique, mais ce n'est pas la guerre. (It is magnificent, but it isn't war).
~Pierre Bosquet

Lancôme presented their latest fragrance Magnifique to the press featuring their new ambassador, actress Anne Hathaway, at the Grand Palais in Paris. Talented and pretty stars are nothing new in the Lancôme galaxy and their previous choice of Kate Winslet as new face of Trésor had me enraptured. Hathaway (who had professed a predeliction for Chanel's Chance) is equally lovely in a Snow White suit instead.
Magnifique set out to olfactively interpret the colour red, from the bottle, to the colour scheme of Hathaway's dress, to the admitedly cheddar-heavy US print-ad. Hence to avoid the latter factor, I chose a picture from the upcoming Peter-Lindberg-directed commercial, in which Hathaway poses as a cross between a Nikolaos Gyzis and Edward Hopper model.

Technically, Magnifique is a spicy woody floral, composed by Firmenich perfumers Olivier Cresp and Jacques Cavallier (a collaborating duo on many popular fragrances).
The inspiration, according to Woman's Wear Daily was Nargamotha/cypriol (Cyperus scariosus). Nagarmotha is a plant of the Cyperaceae family, also called Nagar Mustaka, which grows wild in the Madhya Pradesh region of India. Highly-prized for its roots, it is often used in compounding perfumes (especially since it acts as a fixative and is quite economical), in the manufacturing of soaps and incense sticks, as an insect repellent and for medicinal purposes. Associated with milkweed, Indian nard, jatamansi and fekhand, it appears in the spells of Vashikarana: It's said that a man applying it to his forehead is assured of a long series of successful love affairs!
Steam distillation of the tubers of cypriol yields 0.075-0.080% of an essential oil, the principal content of which is cyperine. The smell of nagarmotha is woody, earthy and quite lingering; it mostly conjures a hybrid between cedar, vetiver and patchouli, with fleeting touches of cinnamon and frankincense giving a churchy feel.
Reportedly, Cresp and Cavallier came upon it while in India and liked it so much that they opted to include its essential oil in their Magnifique fragrance. Somehow this is my first stumble: really? Such acclaimed and experienced perfumers were unaware of this old ingredient and just now discovered it?

What is naughty is that there is a perfume product thus named, produced by Innospec:

"A group of fragrance industry experts has given an enthusiastic review to three of Innospec's products- Cypriol, Vetimoss, and Verdirosa. The occasion was the British Society of Perfumery symposium, held last month [July] at Towcester. Lester Bowman, head of Innospec Active Chemicals for Europe, the Middle East and Africa gave a talk to the group, and Peter Whipps, a freelance perfume expert presented the three fragrances. Cypriol, which has a spicy floral fragrance, was presented in a linden blossom room spray and peach base, where it confers the rich, natural aroma of real flowers. As well as offering good odour of its own, Cypriol has a substantial floralising effect on any fragrance".

(Source Innospec)

Cypriol has been rather popular lately: a component of the latest Musc Nomade by Annick Goutal as well as Dzongha by L'artisan (where it is noted as a Papyrus note, Cyperus Papyrus, a member of the same family), Rose Kashmirie by Parfums de Rosine, the newest By Killian Prelude to Love, and Tom Ford for Men ~latter claimed to be the first to use cypriol: "that slightly dirty, sensual, sexy smell...It's not the same as natural musk used to be, but it has a bit of something that some people would think slightly dirty...I think it's warm and sensual." That claim is of course an euphemism, to put it politely: they probably publicized the fact first, since cypriol use goes as far back as Xeryus, a floral woody semi-oriental masculine by Givenchy, developped by Firmenich, in 1986! And if I am not too mistaken in Eau d'Issey pour Homme too in 1994. They're seriously putting us on, it seems!

To revert to Magnifique and how it smells, Lancôme didn't veer off far on their use of their emblematic rose, a note used in most of their fragrances under one guise or another (with the exception of mighty crispy O de Lancome): many perfume lovers report a profound love for Mille et une Roses, while the peachy-rosy Trésor has its own ardent fans.
There is indeed a round rose nuance in Magnifique that veers into fruity-jammy; still, the fragrance is not considerably floral, less so rosy in the flowers-on-the-stem kind. Rather Magnifique starts as a lightly effervescent, spiked-soda sort of fragrance,with a light peppery bite and sweet fruity tonalities defying the listed cumin, as the fragrance does not present any sweaty side at all. Nor is it especially woody, which is a suprise after all the insistence on that aspect, although the nagarmotha essence does make a solid appearence; the woods are pale, pleasantly powdered but ultimately vacant-eyed and unchallenging, ready to smile and strike their best side for the camera (and yes, they do know which is their best one!). If you have watched "Diary of a Princess" with the lovely Hathaway, they're the "after" part, even though the "before" wasn't that wild either...

"The challenge was to work on wood", Cresp claimed nevertheless. Why challenge? Due to the slim number of woody juices aimed at women, since woody notes are traditionally regarded as masculine. There is of course a handful which are excellent and not masculine-smelling at all: the iconic Bois des Iles by Chanel, intent on sandalwood; the notorious Feminité du Bois by Shiseido or Dolce Vita by Dior, both focused on cedar. Then again there are fragrances that pose an androgynous spin such as the chic Sycomore, the latest in Chanel's unisex Les Exclusifs line, fleshing out vetiver.
A similar risk was taken by Lauder's newest feminine, Sensuous, a very similar to Magnifique ~albeit milkier and heavier~ composition which tries to change the demographic to a lower age group than the typical Lauder clientele according to Chandler Burr.
Therefore the challenge seems to be on the business side more than on the olfactory one!

There appear to be segments of other ideas in Magnifique: the sweet patchouli vibe of Attraction, Lancome's own less successful previous release from 2003 (which might illustrate the fact that discarded mods never trully get discarded ~and please consider the discontinued lactonic woody Feu d'Issey by Cavallier there too, will you?), or the fruity woodiness of Gucci by Gucci; maybe even the jammy earthiness of Rabanne's Black XS, as well as Dior's Midnight Poison or Elle by Yves Saint Laurent (latter two notably by the same noses).
Which brings me to an interesting question: what segregates some of the above as "modern chypres" in taxonomy, while Magnifique is a "woody"? The edges blurr in my mind and it seems to me that "woody" has now become just fancy jargon to denote edginess, a sort of fashionista It-term; I predict we will be hearing it often from now on, mark my words.
Furthermore, woody fragrances often cross borders in niche lines, being shared by both sexes, which brings me to my next point: The derivative aspect of mainstream brands trying to replicate niche trends is a manifestation of both the market's oversaturation with offerings that focus on tired vogues (the avalanche of fruity florals and trite gourmand vanillas for women, the conventional citrus woodies and screechy marines for men) as well as the desire to tap into the pool of perfume lovers who scout the micro-niche lines for something different, but cannot always have it readily accessible due to exclusivity.

Magnifique is commendable for turning its back on tired concepts. It can thus be viewed as a step in a good direction, but also as the height of cynicism in fragrance business in view of the above. I will give them the benefit of the doubt for now and hope that more companies in the mainstream sector try to diversify.

Official Notes: mandarin, saffron essence, cumin, cinnamon, Bulgarian Rose essence, absolute of Rose Mai de Grasse, jasmine, Australian Sandalwood essence, Indian nagarmotha, vetiver.

Magnifique comes in 50ml/1.7oz and 75ml/2.4oz of Eau de Parfum concentration (with accompanying Bath Cream and Body Lotion in 200ml containers) and has just launched in the US (initially as an exclusive to Bloomingdale's). It will be available around the world in September through major department stores.

For those able to read French, please visit my good friend S. on Ambre Gris for another view.

Pic of Anne Hathaway courtesy of I'm not Obsessed.Bottle pic courtesy of Fragrantica.

Guerlain Arsene Lupin Dandy: fragrance review & draw

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guerlain Vetiver Parfum: short fragrance review

 

Vetiver Parfum by the historical house of Guerlain is another success by perfumer Delphine Jelk, after Habit Rouge Parfum. She managed to bring something new in a classic by the venerable French house.

 Their older classic version of Guerlain Vetiver has been the reliable fall-back-upon fragrance in summer of many generations of men and discerning women. Women? Yes, besides this humble writer hereby, we can cite the supermodel Elle McPherson as someone who has graced her glorious form with Vetiver by Guerlain as her signature scent for many, many summers. 

 The newest Vetiver Parfum version came in 2024 to spice up the proceedings (literally, it smells spicy up top, piquant and quick-witted) and to amplify the smoky facets that were lurking in Chanel Sycomore's previous attempt to do a similar thing (I am referring the Eau de Toilette edition in Les Exclusifs collection). Now that the Eau de Parfum version of the latter seems so oddly diluted in comparison and so inexplicably expensive, the Guerlain edition will fill in the gap. I'm grateful.

31 Rue Cambon from Chanel Les Exclusifs: fragrance review

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

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

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

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


Art photography by Chris Borgman courtesy of his site.

Chanel Les Exclusifs Boy: fragrance review

It's hard to go wrong with an aromatic fougere; men have been conditioned to opt for them and women to respond to them as "the natural scent of men" since at least the end of the 19th century when Jicky by Guerlain became the first to make an impact. Lavender and musk plus a spattering of sweeter notes is the basic recipe but each maker gives them their spin.

Chanel made Boy (after "Boy" Capel, a lover of Coco's) in their boutique range Les Exclusifs to appeal to those men who want that steadfast tradition in a sleek modern bottle and who don't mind a bit of a retro touch. This is what perfumer Olivier Polge (son of Jacques who was head perfumer for 3 decades) envisioned I'm sure.

What I smell distinctly after the top note of sharpness is the heliotrope and tonka which give a slight effect of marzipan paste; they elevate lavender from the usually medicinal territory into something softer and cuddlier. Hard to find this not fitting any occasion, casual, office or night out.

No.18 from Chanel Les Exclusifs: fragrance review

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

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

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

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

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




Art photography by Chris Borgman courtesy of his site.