Today, we’re going to knock on wood, and three very specific types of wood, at that: Sycomore, Sequoia and Aoud.
The name Sycomore can be ascribed to three different types of tree — the Middle Eastern/Northern African fig tree, the European maple and the North American plane tree, but as far as references are concerned, I would say that Chanel Sycomore leans in the direction of the Middle East fig, with its incense-smoke undertone, layers of dry grasses and the faint, pulpy fruit notes peering from around the edges.
Chanel had a 1930 perfume named Sycomore that was allegedly much more cluttered in composition, so the new 2008 Sycamore for their Les Exclusifs line appears to be an interpretation of the old scent, recast in a more stripped-down, contemporary style. While still a bit dark and even somewhat masculine, the new Sycomore is definitely a much leaner product than its fussy predecessor and signals a new direction for Chanel fragrances — though not so much minimalist as just less ornate.
Hermes recently posted a 20% increase in its perfume sales for the first half of 2008, thanks to master perfumer Jean Claude Ellena and his deceptively simple juices (such as the brilliantly understated Un Jardin Apres la Mousson), so expect to see other, larger luxury houses (such as Chanel) follow suit with lighter fare of their own.
Already a conquerer in the minimalist mode, Comme des Garcons has been issuing fragrances in numbers that belie their rather small stature in the luxury goods field (CdG as a whole grosses approximately $150 million a year, whereas Hermes can pull in about $100 million on fragrances alone in just six months).
Sequoia is from their Red Series which debuted in 2001, and it comes across as a clean musk (read: soapy) fragrance that hints at tree sap and white flowers with a vague bit of campfire smoke curling upwards.
Despite being so different, there are striking similarities between Chanel Sycamore and CdG Sequoia (the light smoke, the soft touch of flowers/fruits, the tree sap, the uncluttered impact), though the soapy freshness in Sequoia keeps them from meeting fully. But it seems to me that with luxury houses increasingly aiming at Asian consumers, Chanel’s old-school perfumers could hardly help but be influenced by the relentless, modernist gait of CdG, despite (or because of?) CdG having entered the perfume field less than twenty years ago.
Montale Red Aoud is a woodsy fragrance of a different color — sharper, richer, stronger than both Chanel Sycamore and CdG Sequoia, Red Aoud announces its intentions in spicy bold strokes and is a happy traveller in the heavy Middle Eastern tradition of fragrances.
While I wasn’t immediately smitten with Red Aoud, and, in fact, almost dismissed it as kind of unpleasant after about thirty minutes in, it subtly transformed as more time passed into a warm, almost chocolaty gourmand. It’s not Hershey’s chocolate, though — more like the dusty, woodsy cocoa scent of a good patchouli, but mixed with other spices, as well: golden saffron, black pepper, cumin. Earthy roots and sandalwood are also mixed in to help counter-balance aoud’s natural proclivity towards the too-sweet end of the spectrum.
This is not anything close to a contemporary, minimalist fragrance, and to its credit, it never pretends to be. Montale Red Aoud seems, instead, to have set its sights on the wallets of the Oil Princes and Princesses of the Middle East, as well as Western consumers who pine for the rich, heavy fragrances of perfume’s wanton, glamorous years.
I enjoy its smell, though I have to admit that I could never wear it again myself. Even the thought of trailing such a thick cloud of scent behind me all day (and this stuff lasts all day!) is near exhausting. When I want something potent, I’ll stick with YSL M7 which has a similar richness due to its inclusion of aoud wood, but is drier than Red Aoud and doesn’t wear quite so heavily.
