I don't focus a lot of my attention on the older, more established brands because their products are mostly so well known as to have galaxies of information already named after them, and also because their fragrances tend to be conservative to the point of tedium -- but it's always a good idea to drive-by the old neighborhood once in a while to check up on the senior citizens and see what they're up to.
From the likes of Rose Barbare and Coromandel, cribbing from the whippersnappers is apparently what the senior citizens are hip-deep up to!
CHANEL COROMANDEL: Coromandel bears striking similarities to Serge Lutens Borneo 1834, but toned down and gussied up for a softer, more mannered crowd.
While Borneo 1834 is a cult patchouli fragrance with a monster-sized camphor opening that takes its sweet time to arrive at its deep, woodsy and dry cocoa destination, Coromandel dispenses with the three hour camphor ride and bustles into the woods and cocoa almost immediately (with a pit-stop at the golden honey and vanilla shop, natch), providing for a much more pleasant and wearable experience for all involved.
While it's a bit of a brain twister to type "patchouli fragrance" and "Chanel" in the same sentence, it's also refreshing to see an established house paying attention to contemporary trends. Just when smaller niche players are capturing market share by seriously pumping out the sweet ambers, incense woods and patchouli masterworks, Chanel comes out with an ambered patchouli of its own, slaps a "Les Exclusifs" label on it and makes it artificially scarce by offering it for sale in huge bottles and only in their own boutiques. I'm kind of swooning at the sheer marketing genius behind it all.
The fact that it so closely resembles a Serge Lutens fragrance, one of the most artistic and cutting-edge of the contemporary niche lines, only impresses me more, 'cause if you're going to snag someone's thunder, it should be the stuff with the loudest sis-boom-bang, right? Well, the House of Lutens is nothing if not some serious sis-boom-bang.
Note of interest: Christopher Sheldrake, perfumer for Serge Lutens, is credited as co-creator of Coromandel along with Jacques Polge.
Other opinions:
Dane at Peredepierre: "Sweet, feminine chalky notes contrast with the damp, earthy smell of the patchouli and the result is truly breathtaking. This could easily have been part of the Serge Lutens collection . . . "
Abigail at I Smell Therefore I Am: "Coromandel is Chanel's most daring fragrance among the Les Exclusifs offerings."
Cris at Perfume Critic: "Jacques Polge, the fabulous nose who miraculously blended this patchouli-fragrance, should win the "Perfumery Oscar" for this creation."
The official story is that Coromandel was developed as a reference to Coco Chanel's love for the elaborate and often jeweled Chinese lacquered screens that were shipped to Europe via India's Coromandel coast, but the reality is that Chanel needed a walloping patchouli number to keep itself relevant for a new generation of fragrance consumers.
You can only sell so many bottles of Chanel No. 5 before the old saying of familiarity breeding contempt starts chewing its way through your quarterly reports.
GUERLAIN ROSE BARBARE: Released in 2005 as part of the "L'Art et la Matiere" series (the Guerlain equivalent to the Chanel "Les Exclusifs" line), Rose Barbare has the good sense to remind me of numerous other contemporary fragrances -- and none of them from Guerlain.
The concession to contemporary trends that Guerlain appears to be making with Rose Barbare is with the use of Middle-Eastern spices and materials, resulting in a spin on the Middle Eastern attar. Amouage has been successfully kicking ass and taking names in this regard for years, and for the Guerlain brand to remain viable in a market that's always looking for the new and the now, it needed to throw down and tussle with the niche players.
The Guerlains I've sampled before today have all been rather staid affairs -- quality numbers, yes, but lacking vigor: Spiritueuse Double Vanille, Bois d'Arménie, Sous le Vent, Chamade Pour Homme, Habit Rouge and Jicky. I didn't remember sampling half of these, if that gives you any indication of how memorable they are, but with Rose Barbare, Guerlain wants you to remember. They want you to think, "This isn't what I expected from a Guerlain rose" -- a dark, Turkish rose from Grasse blended with musk, moss and patchouli, zingy aldehydes, and a warm, lingering hedione.
Chandler Burr describes Rose Barbare as one of the best rose fragrances on the market, but since he's also waxed rapturous about Paestum Rose by Eau d'Italie and fairly ecstatic about Cannabis Rose by Fresh, I think it's clear the man just likes roses.
Me? I think it's nice that Guerlain is shaking things up a bit with a slightly edgy, more contemporary take on the rose fragrance than I would have given them credit for being able to produce, not to mention that the rose absolute from Grasse in the thing is downright smashing! Absolutes from Grasse are like catnip to perfumers, but because of their great expense in relation to most other perfume materials, they're rarely used. The Guerlain execs wisely gave the go-ahead on this one, and the Grasse absolute makes the cake.
Rose Barbare is shadowy without being overly dark and heavy, can be easily worn by both men and women, and because of its unisex tendencies, can get dressed up or dressed down right along with you. No small feat in and of itself. Rose Barbare is available exclusively from Guerlain boutiques and a smattering of licensed resellers.
2 Comments
Can't remember Habit rouge or Jicky? Hello!
As for Hedione, a chemical first used to enhance volatile citrus headnotes, it does not smell much by itself, never mind being "warm" or "lingering"! More like awful plastic seats in new cars.
Other than that, this was an interesting article, I highly regard Sheldrake and of course Polge, but not Lutens as much as you do at all. Clever marketing, rather conceited and more pretense than esthetics or harmony, I think. Simplistic in a nice packaging in a nice shop with a price tag to go with it.
said:
I said I didn't remember half! Jicky and Habit Rouge are two that I remembered. And who says that the smell of awful plastic seats in new cars doesn't linger? :)
I'll grant you that Lutens is terribly conceited, and has a marketing machine that's like a bulldozer, but when I like one his works, I tend to seriously like it to the point of comparing other fragrances I smell against it.
But Sheldrake was the official perfumer for Lutens until 2005, so if you highly regard Sheldrake, then you might highly regard the Lutens catalog without having to highly regard Lutens. . . ?
Actually, last I heard, Lutens is reportedly still working with Sheldrake, even though Sheldrake signed a contract with Chanel in 2005 (Peredepierre.com reports getting a pissy message from the Lutens camp about Sheldrake being a "mere technician" instead of the Lutens perfumer, but who knows what that's about), but I do think it's pretty great that one of Sheldrake's fragrances for Chanel is a kinder, gentler version of his own Borneo 1834.
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