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28 La Pausa

Behind the Curtain by judy stalus
Behind the Curtain, a photo by judy stalus on Flickr.
Revisiting 28 La Pausa, and the Les Exclusifs that came out in 2007. What's been around before (Bois des Îles, Cuir de Russie) has been watered down so much they remind me of a lukewarm instant coffee made by a pinchy in-law compared to a proper espresso. And the remainder seems like an elaborate, cerebral exercise in restrained variations on the Chanel originals: No. 19 and Bois des Îles being the primary sources of inspiration, with various iterations (Bel Respiro and La Pausa in reference to the first; No. 18 and the later-arrival Sycomore stemming from the latter). Both share recurring themes in varying proportions - primarily iris, indole, ambrette seed and greens to varying proportions. 28 La Pausa seems to have some leanings towards No. 18, with hints of ambrettolide, but non of the intriguing wine-like qualities of true ambrette.


28 La Pausa is very light, ethereal exercise in iris. Not the powdery, creamy orris butter that at the core of all the classic Geurlains; but rather a cool, airy rendition of this ethereal and obscure note, quite anemic if to be perfectly hones, and supported by ionone, irone and synthetic musks to extend its metallic presence without adding much longevity or blood. If the inspiration for it is the green-shuttered villa in southern France, then 28 La Pausa is the breeze blowing in the gauzy cotton curtains, bringing in the scent of a just-watered garden with iris and wet concrete pavement. There is a hint of indole in there, giving the ever so slightly warmth of jasmine petals. But it's not enough to bring in any of the relaxed, carefree Joie de Vivre spirit of southern France, nor its neighbouring Italian riviera the house is supposedly overlooking. If this is Chanel's mood on her vacations, then she's most likely sewing mosquito nets indoors, or else sketching patterns on a glass coffee table. She should be indulging in the fresh air, beaches and abundant Mediterranean scenery and loving sun. But she's not. She's cold inside her stone villa, letting only the cold sea breeze come in.



Although Gabrielle Chanel always followed her dreams and made them come true - always strikes me as a logical, down-to-earth person. She seemed quite restrained in her emotions, which in some way also comes across in her very put-together, tailored designs she's created; but that is not to say she had no emotions. Her passion was evident in the meticulous attention she's given to every stitch, in the bold audacity of her costume jewellery, and in her involvement in the artistic direction of the original perfumes. It is true that it took some time before No. 19 and
Bois des Îles grew on me - but when they did, I could sense the vulnerable, playful, passionate personality behind them - even if she hasn't created the perfumes herself, she stood behind them completely and took Even after all these years, coming back to Les Exclusifs, I can't help but notice my feelings are completely untouched by each and every composition. There is no soul to them. Only cerebral reminiscing of Chanel's style, luxury and good taste. It's all about flaunting the several expensive ingredients at the core of the composition (iris, ambrette, jasmine from Grasse) but there is really no story behind it except for a brief that resembles an interior-decorator's outline for a very wealthy client.

Notes: Iris,
Ionones, Jasmine, Indole, Ambrette, Musks.

Nocturnes



Although the name suggests it to be a night-invoking perfume, I find it extremely summer-like and full of light.
It starts off with a citrus splash of bergamot and tangerine, backed up with a feminine floral notes of jasmine, and a more masculine eau-de-cologne like notes of orange blossoms and a hint of musk, that adds sensuality to that blast of freshness.
As the top notes start to fade, they reveal a luscious fruity note of peach supported by vanilla, which gradually pushes away the dominant orange-blossom and tangerine accord.
The dry down gradually enters with an interesting and surprising accord dominated by a fresh, woody and masculine vetiver notes, accompanied by green notes, orange blossom (softer and more subtle now), and a very modest hint of vanilla and rose. 
This perfume is full of surprises, I love the way the stages fade into each other. The overall impression is of freshness and vivacity, mingled with a tad of melancholy, which brings to mind Chopin's expressive piano nocturni. 

It’s surprising to see that such an old-fashioned aldehydic floral was launched in the 80’s (1981 to be exact). The perfumer behind Nocturnes is Gerard Lefort.

Top notes: Aldehydes, Bergamot, Mandarin, Green notes
Heart notes: Orange Blossom, Jasmine, Ylang Ylang, Tuberose, Stephanotis, Lily of the Valley, Orris, Rose, Cyclamen 
Base notes: Vetiver, Musk, Sandalwood, Amber, Vanilla, Benzoin



Égoïste



Égoïste by Chanel, although officially released by this name in 1990, is a true child of the 80's: bold, clear and with a definite presence that is unmistakable with others. It is one of the most delicious woody fragrances designed for men, not to mention its got the most dramatic yet humorous, wonderfully timed perfume commercial I've ever laid eyes upon, rivaled only by the marvellous Old Spice, which is really for a shower gel so I guess that does not really count. Perhaps it's because Prokofiev's "Dance of the Knights" from the ballet Romeo and Juliet has a way of sending shivers down my spine; and perhaps because I've been always intrigued by the use of "negative" titles for perfumes. The guy who chooses to wear it might be perfectly sweet, honest and dependable - but that should not stop them from fantasizing about taking over a whole building full of screaming females.

Sadly, Europeans are rather egotistic in keeping this beauty to themselves and it is nowhere to be found on North American soil. So, on my last stopover at Schipol airport, I picked up a chunky 100ml bottle of this masculine gem, a size that I generally avoid. This is obviously designed for a larger fist, and should last me a lifetime, because there is no man in sight with whom I can share this beauty.

Égoïste is the younger and louder brother of the demure, soft-spoken and old-fashioned Bois des Îles. It opens with a burst of dry yet sweet melange of woods, citrus and spice. It actually reminds me of another favourite 80's fragrance, which is also drenched in sandalwood: Samsara (which reportedly had a glutenous 40% Mysore sandalwood). There is no true separation between top and heart and base as they weave in and out in different phases of the perfume. At first, there is the clarity of bois de rose (rosewood), the led-pencil shaving association of Virginia cedarwood, and the sweet citrus burst of tangerine and a sprinkle of sweet cassia. There is also a hint of eugenol, not quite clove like, but softer - perhaps form carnations. Underlying notes of coumarin backed up with a generous dose of vanilla absolute. There is something about true vanilla absolute that is simultaneously woody and animalic, quite unlike the cupcake frosting character of vanillin. Égoïste's vanilla really brings this out with some help of both indole and leathery animalic notes. which add interest. It is quite well balanced between sweet, bitter, smooth, spicy and powdery - although admittedly leaning towards the sweet more so than I would have expected (or remember the original to be).

The sandalwood is not as creamy as its sister Bois des Îles (probably because what I have in my hands is a rather modern version, very unlikely containing any Mysore sandalwood) - but that also gives is an edge somehow - it's warmer and more spicy and dry than I remembered it from a few years back. It seems to be accompanied by Atlas cedar's suave fruitiness, and perhaps even a splash of violet-y ionones and plum and rose notes from damascones.

I would hardly consider anyone wearing Égoïste selfish - anyone around you is going to enjoy it too!
Beware: Egoiste Platinum has nothing to do with it besides the name, and is the only version you'll find in Canada and the USA, and to my nose it smells like generic sporty aquatic chemical trash. But it has a wonderful ad as well!

Chanel_egoiste

Top notes: Rosewood, Tangerine, Virginia Cedarwood
Heart notes: Rose, Cassia (Cinnamon), Carnation
Base notes: Sandalwood, Coumarin, Atlas Cedarwood, Vanilla, Leather

Au Delà

. by mariehochhaus
., a photo by mariehochhaus on Flickr.
Au Delà ("The Beyond" in French) creates a dynamic movement of warmth and light on a backdrop of dark and cool elements.

The first inhalation is bright: notes of bergamot, linalool and neroli shed a sudden light on the skin and create a brief reference to herbaceous, lavender-tinged Provencal cologne.

Simultaneously, there is a rise of honeyed resinous amber, like warm water flowing quietly from a hot spring. Orange blossom brings even more nectar and sunshine to the heart notes. The second violin of jasmine intensifies the orange flower's indole, sinking even deeper into the edgy, earthy, salty and slightly bitter tones of green oakmoss and dry, almost smoky cedarwood.

From there on, there is a certain saltiness to Au Delà, the oakmoss relating to the amber like fleur de sel to caramel, and the amber in return echoing the sweetness and sunny warmth of orange blossom.

Au Delà defies definite categorization - aromatic, but not quite a fougere; floral, but with far more depth than a pretty floral bouquet; it is not a Chypre either in the usual sense of the word (but then Chypres are never "usual", so this might be the best way to related to it). But with the amber dominating the dry out notes - a sweet yet clear and bright amber, reminiscent of the base of Obsession - it might just be an oriental (note that Obsession has also a prominent presence of oakmoss).

Stepping back a bit, I you realize that it's only one definite personality is change itself. However, technically speaking - it might be that the dynamic shift between its phases will morph into something entirely different and more stable as the perfume matures a bit longer in the bottle. The musical influence on this creation is apparent (it was inspired by the complex rhythms and harmonies of 20th century composer Olivier Messaïen - and in particular his last piece, Éclairs sur L'Au Delà, and in particularly the movement titled Demeurer dans l'Amour, which you can hear in the clip below).



The perfume readily lends itself to adjectives borrowed from the musical and movement worlds: counterpoint, harmony, tension, rythm and flow. Movement and air seems to be the theme of Au Delà. It seems to live in the element of dry, warm air for the remainder of the piece.

Top notes: Bergamot, Neroli, Coriander
Heart notes: Orange Blossom, Jasmine
Base notes: Amber, Oakmoss

Crêpe de Chine

crepe de chine by Millie Motts
crepe de chine, a photo by Millie Motts on Flickr.
One of the legends of perfumes of yore is Crêpe de Chine, created by Millot perfumer (and the founder Félix Millot's grandson) Jean Desprez in 1925, the same year the iconic Shalimar was born. However, unlike Shalimar, Crêpe de Chine did not survive long enough to undergo the many embarassing reformulations that so many classics have faced throughout the years. No, Crêpe de Chine remained true to its original self, and coming across the bottle is akin to a private sniffing session at the Osmotheque.

I always imagined Crêpe de Chine to be a dark, mysterious, ineffable creation that I would  only admire from afar when I finally encounter him (I thought of this perfume as a very serious masculine creature, perhaps a very severe fashion designer constructing accurately flowing evening gowns from this particular fabric). Non of this turns out to be the truth about Crêpe de Chine (except that its beauty is indeed ineffable!). A vintage half-full bottle of the eau de toilette landed in my mailbox two evenings ago as part of a swap with a perfumiso from the Netherlands, and added a lot of beauty to every moment of my life since I could not stop applying and re-applying. The vintage bottle itself is also easy on the eyes (though a bit too generous with spilling out its precious jus to the sides of the spray nozzles every time I apply a spritz or too - a sure sign that bottle designs have improved in the past 50 years or so - Crêpe de Chine went off production in 1968, a few years after Millot was purchased by Revillon).

Crêpe de Chine

Nothing could have prepared me to what Crêpe de Chine would smell like. But, I didn't really need any preparation: Crêpe de Chine was one of the very rare cases of love at first sniff, with a very complex perfume. It begins with a burst of laughter, emanating from a rush of galbanum, crushed sweet basil and zesty citrus! I'm surprised these vibrant notes managed to remain in the bottle after all these years and remain true to their zestiness. Playful, cheerful, bitter-green but not intimidating or formal at all (which is often the vibe that one gets from cool, bitter greens).

Moving quickly to the heart of Crêpe de Chine, deeper notes of incense and hints of smoky leather begin to swirl around the skin, and this warmth stayed with me for hours, lingering like the remnants of an ancient ritual, omitting the charred aftermath. Sensual and reassuring, like a quiet reminder to breath in the beauty around us! The fine aroma of lingered fragrant smoke kept weaving through my aura, making me smile every time. This incense effect is achieved, I believe, from the conjunction of fine, santalol-rich East Indian Sandalwood (now extinct), aged Indonesian patchouli, the resinous-leather-incense-amber of labdanum, and musk.

Weaving through the wafts of incense, earthy and warm aromas of forest floor and sun-warmed hills bring grounding. Labdanum and oakmoss, surrounded with the spice of carnation and hints of cinnamon. Ahh... How I love the roundedness, complete mystery of Chypre! No one note truly sticks out, though I'm certain there are plenty of florals to support this very abstract structure.

Finally, we come to the drydown, or deepest base notes. Here the sweetness of earth and sunny rockroses is replaced by the bittersweetness of coumarin (could be from tonka beans, but most likely supported by the first synthetic aromachemical used in perfume history), paired by non other than clean and dry vetiver. That's a balanced duo, and a very surprising finish to a masterpiece olfactory tale with many twists and turns. At which point, you wonder if it isn't a fougere after all... And indeed, like some other reviewers of Crêpe de Chine, it is suitable for men to wear and enjoy without worrying about smelling like a bouquet of flowers or a lacy hosiery. 

Top notes: Galbanum, Basil, Fresh Aldehydes, Lemon, Bitter Orange, Bergamot
Heart notes: Carnation, Jasmine, Gardenia, Ylang Ylang, Rose, Cinnamon, Roman Chamomile
Base notes: East Indian Sandalwood, Musk, Oakmoss, Vetiver, Indonesian Patchouli, Leather/Smoky Notes, Labdanum, Musk

For other reviews of Crêpe de Chine visit:
The Non-Blonde
Now Smell This
Yesterday's Perfume

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