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Guerlain – Samsara

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Guerlain – Samsara

samsara-msm

If you are a perfume afficionada, one of the benefits of going to an all-women’s college is the rather obvious proximity of many young women wearing many different fragrances. In my hallway alone, I was greeted each morning by a variety of freshly-showered Chanels and Calvin Kleins as they made their way to morning classes. Into the melange of perfumed heads making their way down Broadway in 1989, came a stunning new creature. She had a cascading mane of beautiful curls atop her slender figure, wore a tiny nose-ring balanced with a huge scarf (which seemed to perfectly match her studies in comparative religion and art), smoked Camels like there was no tomorrow, and was French Canadian to boot. She cut quite an impressive figure in the sea of Eternity, because, of course, she wore Samsara.

Named for the continuous cycle of birth, death and rebirth, she railed against the ironic name choice for what was such a simply beautiful fragrance (though given the state of Guerlain’s current output, I find myself desperately wishing for rebirth at this point). As a child of the 1980s, Samsara wove an exotic tale, this time of India, with its references to sandalwood and its stylized, deep red bottle. Indeed, vintage Samsara is legendary for containing some of the highest quality sandalwood, in unprecedented amounts.

Into this rich, delicately sweet wood, Jean-Paul Guerlain had the brilliance of introducing a rich jasmine note. While Samsara is certainly recognizable from a distance, unlike many other fragrances of the 1980s, it was never cloying, as the equally demanding notes of sandalwood and jasmine worked in perfect harmony, rather than competing for top billing. The rich rose and ylang notes imparted a nearly palpable creaminess to the fragrance, lending it soft edges and voluptuousness. Perhaps I have been tainted by the intense sillage of other fragrances in my collection, but I find that Samsara wears fairly close to the skin.

The drydown hints at Guerlain heritage, with vanilla and tonka making their symbolic appearance, warming the jasmine petals and woods into a warm skin scent. The EdT places emphasis on the jasmine, while the EdP and Parfum highlights the beauty of sandalwood. While Samsara makes perfect sense (and even appears subtle) in today’s fragrance environment, at the time it was released it was instantly recognizable and larger than life. An intriguing and sophisticated choice for a woman barely in her twenties. Whenever I reach for it, I am reminded of of her unique, indomitable spirit.

Notes: Bergamot, Jasmine, Narcissus, Rose, Ylang Ylang, Sandalwood, Iris, Tonka, Vanilla.

*A further note on the fragrance – as I commenced writing this review, I instantly realized why Jasmin et Cigarette had failed to hit the spot for me. The perfect combination of jasmine, tobacco and smoke had already been achieved (albeit unintentionally) by my Samsara wearing friend.

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Chanel – Coco Noir

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Coco Noir – The Unloved Chanel

COCO-NOIR_bottle_02

I must start this post with a disclaimer: I adore all things Chanel to a fault. In fact, my friends joke that I must be Gabrielle Bonheur reincarnate, so great is my passion for Chanel products, history, and tidbits. With perhaps the exception of a couple of male fragrance flankers, the truth remains that Chanel reigns supreme.

That being said, I was surprised to find so many bloggers disappointed (almost to the point of distress), with Chanel’s latest release, Coco Noir. While I understand some of their frustrations given the pre-release marketing descriptions of this product as the ultimate in Byzantine black magic, my interpretation of this fragrance was radically different.

Finding that it is always best to start at the beginning, let’s get one thing straight. Coco Noir is not, and shall never be, Coco. Coco was born in 1984 and as such, embodied all of the characteristics of that era. Noted for its sillage which often entered a room before its wearer did, Coco reflected the larger than life ideals of the 1980s. While most categorize this era as one of opulence, I would argue that another defining factor of this era was a certain innocence and hopefulness. The 1980s saw sweeping social and economic changes as a result of newly industrializing economies, creating a prevailing sense of unstoppable wealth and prosperity. Similar to other fragrances born after times of strife, the focus was on celebration and expression. This was a time when we were just being introduced to life-changing inventions such as the cell phone and Walkman, and we were exhilarated. Little did we know how these devices, then in their infancy stages, would propel us into a super-fast moving and “connected” society which would ironically erode all the time they attempted to save. The 1980s was a time characterized by luxurious enjoyment and contemplation, as opposed to the more immediate gratification desires of our current era. Perfume could take its time unfolding and wafting its charms as opposed to today’s mandate: “Need. Scent. Now”.

The majority of the reviews I read bemoaned the fact that Coco Noir was not Coco, instead of celebrating the fact that it was not Coco Mademoiselle. While Coco Noir does nod in the direction of its candy-coated sister born in 2001, I saw Coco Noir as Chanel’s attempt to claw back the territory away from the sugary lollipop flower fruit-choulis that have come to dominate the landscape, and drag the consumer back to a place of complexity, even if by baby steps only.

While Coco Noir’s top notes of grapefruit and bergamot sparkle in typical Chanel fashion, the reference is more to the newer Chanel creations under the direction of Jacques Polge than either of his predecessors. This is no magical aldehydic veil a la Chanel 22. Contained within the Chanel heart of rose and jasmine are narcissus and rose geranium leaf, which lend the fragrance a subtle spicy quality, though far different from the warm clove heart of the original Coco. The effect of warmth is enhanced once the base notes of musk, tonka bean, sandalwood, and vanilla take over.1936-Chanel-in-Venice

Present throughout is the patchouli. While I understand that it is challenging to disassociate this scent from its current popular and often warped interpretations, patchouli was historically regarded as an exotic fragrance, frequently utilized in opulent incenses. Here then is the reference to the original Coco, and to Chanel’s “Coromandel culture” as referenced by Mr. Polge. The reference to Coco is not literal, only figurative. One must read between the lines. While the longevity is superior to some of Chanel’s more recent releases, it does not possess the tenacity of Coco. It does stay with me through a workday, though by the afternoon I can be caught pressing my nose to my sleeve.

While Coco conveys the organic warmth and fluidity of caramel brown, Coco Noir embodies the spirit of black: defined, contained and discrete. Where Coco is a warm cashmere wrap over a sumptuous silk blouse pulled together with a thick gold necklace, Coco Noir is a well-tailored black velvet jacket. Coco Noir hovers close to the skin unlike its sisters, creating a very personal and intimate experience of warmth, precisely what I need on days when all of my “modern” inventions are driving me to distraction.

Oriental

Notes: grapefruit, bergamot, rose, jasmine, narcissus, rose geranium leaf, musk, tonka bean, sandalwood, and vanilla.

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