Sniffin' the Oldies: Coty Chypre, Rochas Femme, Chanel No. 5, Guerlain Jicky

Coty Chypre: Originally created in 1917, Coty Chypre was so successful that "chypre" became the generic label for a whole classification of perfumes; specifically, fragrances based on a blend of citrus (bergamot, mainly), ciste-labdanum (or other amber resins) and oak moss (though vetiver and/or patchouli are starting to replace the use of oakmoss).

Coty Chypre is dark, earthy, potent and without a pretty flower or juicy fruit in sight. It's difficult to imagine a contemporary manufacturer even thinking of marketing a fragrance like this for women today; in fact, it's more virile and kick-ass than the majority of masculine fragrances now on the market. Those 1920's females must have been some tough broads, and our contemporary culture suffers from their absence.

Guerlain Jicky: a classic dating back to 1889. Jicky is instantly recognizable, not so much because you know you're smelling Jicky, but because it's had such a profound influence on nearly everything that's come after it -- which has the unfortunate effect of making Jicky seem trite or cliched. "Oh, vanilla," you think, as it wafts past you in the wake of yet another one of its wearers. "How boring."

But Jicky caused a sensation upon its original release as it was one of the first fragrances to combine natural and synthetic ingredients, extending its lifespan immeasurably; though by now, Jicky's ingredient list is likely fast approaching the 100% synthetic mark due to animal rights activists (bye bye, animal musks!) and government safety regulations.

Jicky fanatics (and they do exist) insist on the complexity of its composition and the mastery of its blending, but I mostly smell a heavy, sweet vanilla for most of its lifespan. Vanilla is my kryptonite when it comes to perfumes, and Jicky includes far more of it than I can rightly stand. If I were thrust into a burning building and forced to choose between saving the very last bottle of Coty Chypre in existence or the very last bottle of Jicky in existence, poor Jicky would perish in the flames.

I'll take savory over sweet any day (admittedly, though, Jicky boasts a smooth and appealingly woodsy drydown).

A video clip below of the history of the house of Guerlain:

Rochas Femme: created in 1944 and reformulated/reintroduced in 1989, Rochas Femme is a plummy, floral (roses and jasmin) perfume that starts off heavy on the cumin (cumin is a critical ingredient in chili powder, and plays a major role in Cuban, Mexican, Thai, Vietnamese, Turkish, Moroccan, Afghan and Indian cuisines), then later moves into a neighborhood warm with sandalwood and earthy with oakmoss.

An overheated reviewer at NowSmellThis exclaims that "Femme smells voluptuous and intensely personal" in a nudge-nudge, wink-wink, I See Soiled Sheets kind of way, but at the end of the day, Rochas Femme is just a well-crafted floral chypre, and if you smell it and instantly free-associate with rolls in the hay, well, that's really between you and your Freudian therapist, thanks.

Femme has its earthy qualities, but it's not nearly as dark and earthy as Coty Chypre, thanks to the inclusion of the many flower and fruit notes -- though you can easily tell that Coty Chypre was a huge influence on the creation of the original Rochas Femme. The cumin in the ingredient list was apparently added in the 1989 reformulation as a concession to contemporary trends. A genuinely striking and lovely perfume.

Chanel No. 5: the original sparkling aldehyde, released in 1921 and still one of the best selling perfumes in the world.

It smells like a wheelbarrow full of white flowers, but good luck picking out any single kind or type. No. 5 offers the impression of florals without actually smelling like specific flowers, and this was allegedly its raison de etre -- to buttress the natural beauty of the wearer by highlighting its own artificiality. It also exhibits a sandalwood/vetiver base that appears curiously indifferent to all the white-hot sparkle that precedes it.

Again, this is one of those perfumes that smells like a cliche only because nearly every single subsequent perfumer has attempted to copy its success. A marvel at the time of its release, but rather less so today. To be frank, it comes across as somewhat harsh and/or strident when compared to contemporary perfumes that are making moves back to formulae with a higher concentration of natural essences.

21st century irony, meet Chanel No. 5: