
CHANEL NO. 18: Part of the recently launched Les Exclusifs line, Chanel No. 18 gets a lot of love from the usual perfume suspects: “The striking simplicity of this composition belies its inherent loveliness” (Bois de Jasmin); “feels as if one were suddenly gliding and skating on a frozen pond of icy and satiny orris sensations” (The Scented Salamander); “It truly is unlike any other fragrance I’ve experienced” (For the Love of Perfume); and “No. 18 speaks to me about the opalescent surface of pearls, about the cold, dazzling transparency of diamonds” (Perfume Smellin’ Things).
Of course, there are others who think it smells like sour dill pickles . . .
The fragrance is indeed unique and satiny and opalescent (and yes, even a bit sour-dill pickle musk, which I think only enhances the surface sheen), but if it didn’t have the Chanel name on the label, would there really be so much heavy breathing involved? After all, the stuff wears extremely close to the skin — so close, in fact, that it borders on “Where’s Waldo?” territory after only three hours.
Such “softness” is often cause for complaint from the very same writers who can presently be found writhing in bloggy pleasure over No. 18, but then again, a whisper-soft scent can be the perfect solution for numerous occasions when something more prominent would be out of place, if not unwelcome (e.g. the theater, business meetings, the office, a wine tasting, rock climbing, sport fishing, taxidermy, etc.).
Still, it seems less than desirable to shell out big bucks for a bottle of fume that you literally have to bury your nose into your own skin to smell after just three hours have passed, no matter how dazzling those faint little wisps may be (in all fairness, however, generous and frequent application can overcome this flaw, just be prepared to lug that honkin’ big 200ml bottle along with you wherever you go).
No. 18 features ambrette seed (aka musk ambrette and musk seed) as its main player, and Chanel perfumer Jacques Polge himself described the fragrance as “musty, dusty and dry.”
Video clip below of an interview with Mr. Polge:
ODORI ZAFFERANO: Zafferano shares a musty, dusty quality with Chanel No. 18, but the similarities end there (well, we won’t count the single, slight rose tossed into the mix of both). Where No. 18 glosses over its musty core with a polished, shimmering surface, Zafferano embraces its dry, dusty mustiness and runs with it — until it hits smack into a wall of juicy red berries, that is.
Listed fragrance notes are: American cedar, Italian saffron, raspberry flowers, wild rose petals, Moroccan jasmine, lily of the valley, oriental amber and rosewood. The cedar accentuates the dryness of the scent, and it’s the saffron that injects the juice with that musty, hay-like character. The rose, jasmine, lily of the valley and raspberry flowers exist to soften the scent’s sharper edges.
The drydown is a plank of sanded wood that’s been shellacqued with raspberry blossom honey. It sounds odd, but it works . . . mostly.
Zafferano exhibits good longevity (better than Chanel No. 18) and the placement of the raspberry note in the base nudges it into unisex classification. It might make for a good warmer weather fragrance, but lately, everything seems like it’s “good” for warmer weather. I’m so into the sunshine we’re now seeing after months of clouds and rain and cold weather that if there’s just a hint of green or berryish life to it, out comes my “Good for Spring/Summer!” stamp of approval.
Honestly, though? I’d of liked Zafferano better if it had remained just hay, saffron and woods. The raspberry at the end is a little jarring.
***Note: okay, it’s probably not completely fair to say that No. 18 virtually disappears after three hours — it keeps coming back up for air at random, surprising intervals before submerging once again. I swear, I’m going about my day having forgotten all about it when suddenly *pow!* I smell it and think, “A-ha! There you are!” . . . and then it’s gone.
OFF TOPIC (but fascinating):
The brain is a curious thing:
“The illusion exploits our brain’s strategy for making sense of the visual world: uniting what it actually sees — known as bottom-up processing — with what it expects to see based on prior experience — known as top-down processing.”
It makes you wonder what else we see, smell and hear that our brains reprocess according to established known patterns.