Perfume Review: Chanel 31 Rue Cambon

This fragrance, frequently deemed the most striking and original of the six “Les Exclusifs de Chanel” released in 2007, has been reviewed by many, many perfume bloggers… but not by me. Robin at Now Smell This reviewed it in the context of the Exclusifs collection; Victoria at Bois de Jasmin reviewed it as a stand-alone. Denyse at Grain de Musc reviewed it as reminding her of Great Chypres We Have Known, several in succession (and so, famously, did Tania Sanchez in Perfumes: The Guide, in a small difference of opinion from Luca Turin). Recently, Brian at I Smell Therefore I Am reviewed it as fulfilling a brief that simply said “elegance” and “the most Chanel of all the Chanels.”

Looks like it’s my turn. I’m reviewing it from the perspective of having heard that 31 RC, as I’ll call it, was “good,” and as a newbie to perfume, I should try it. Dear Daisy sent me a sample, and I had to agree: it is good. Shortly thereafter I got in on a bottle split, and own a sadly-depleted 10ml decant.*  Incidentally, the Les Exclusifs were originally only available in 200ml bottles, selling at about $210, but have recently been made available in 75ml bottles, at $110.

31 Rue Cambon, named for the apartment which Coco Chanel kept Much has been made of 31 RC being the “no-oakmoss chypre,” or the first “modern chypre.” I should probably mention that I’m not one of those people who throws tantrums about my chypres having their teeth pulled. (I know, I know, it hurts to lose the things you love, and if the use of rose in perfumes were suddenly restricted the way oakmoss has been, you’d better bet I’d be pitching seventeen kinds of hissy fit.) But then, I only love chypres if they are heavily floral, and I’m not all that bothered by less oakmoss. I’ve always said, if a fragrance has that bitter edge to it, even if it has less oakmoss than a “proper” chypre should, it’s a chypre in my book. If you’re a big fan of the bitter greenies like Bandit – or Diorella, even – 31 Rue Cambon will not seem like much of a chypre to you.

And in point of fact, it doesn’t seem like all that much of a chypre to me. I would classify it alongside Guerlain’s lovely (and discontinued, grrrr) Attrape-Coeur and my darling Teo Cabanel Alahine as a Floral Amber.

Notes for 31 Rue Cambon, cobbled from reviews and the Chanel website: bergamot, jasmine, iris, patchouli, labdanum. This is surely not a complete list; the fragrance is far more complex than that, and I suspect that the amber note is not straight-up labdanum but rather the Ambre 83 base that Luca Turin mentions as being the centerpiece of Attrape-Coeur. It is, however, a list that mentions every note discernible to me.   Some reviewers mention pepper, but I don’t pick up on it.

Now that I’ve gotten the “to chypre or not to chypre” discussion out of the way, what’s 31 RC actually like? It starts off with bright citrusy notes of lemon and bergamot, with just a tiny hint of bitter-green, and for just a moment or two I think of Chanel Cristalle, that classic citrus chypre (which, for the record, I do not love). After the first five minutes, I’m already smelling amber underneath the citrus. It’s the same rich, plush-but-not-too-sweet amber note that you get with those other floral- amber fragrances I already mentioned, and which I also smell in Mitsouko (another chypre I don’t love). 31 Rue Cambon seems to slide effortlessly from citrus into jasmine, and from there into gorgeous satiny iris, but everything always underpinned with the soft amber. There is a bare hint of patchouli in the base, but – thank goodness – it’s the aged, green/herbal kind, and merely a suggestion anyway, not enough to bludgeon me. The fragrance is seamless in its transitions, and even after the citrus and jasmine are gone, they have left an impression on my brain, so that even the far drydown carries with it a suggestion of the way 31 RC smelled from the beginning.

The entire scent is a perfect model of elegance – clean lines, nothing sticking out, nothing overemphasized. It’s not the crisp elegance of a perfectly-pressed white blouse or the stern perfection of a tight chignon with not a hair out of place, however. It’s far more comfortable and effortless than crisp and restrained, and it imparts a graceful, smiling demeanor. When I wear it, I feel rich – and, somehow, nicer.

31 RC is thick, like a full chord, and yet somehow airy and weightless. This is a quality it seems to share with Chanel No. 5 – it’s lushly sensual, and at the same time it is never too much. The seamlessness, the tactile satin effect, make it very easy to wear despite its fullness.

The one quibble I have with 31 RC is the same one that most people have with it: it’s a little too light. Chanel needs a parfum concentration of this. I keep seeing the prediction that they’re working on a parfum and it’ll be released any moment, but we’re now four years (almost five!) into the life of this scent, and there is no parfum available, nor any definite announcement of one coming to the market. Which makes me wonder if the balance goes off somehow when you try to strengthen the mixture. This makes me a little sad: I love Bois des Iles, too, but it’s so fleeting that the Les Exclusifs EdT just frustrates me. Knowing that the parfum is available, even if I can’t afford it, makes me feel a little better. 31 Rue Cambon does have a slightly stronger presence than Bois des Iles, and it does last for close to four hours on me, twice as long as BdI, but I have to snorfle my wrist to smell it for that last hour.

That said, I still think 31 RC is wonderful. “Distilled elegance” sounds about right to me as a short descriptor. I think I’m always going to want to have a small amount on hand, for wear when I feel I might need a reminder that I’m a worthy human being.

A few other reviews, besides the ones linked in the first paragraph (and I do mean a few – there are dozens more!):  Marina at Perfume-Smellin’ Things calls 31RC “austere, yet opulent,” and I’d agree wholeheartedly.  Dane at Pere de Pierre.  Abigail at ISTIA.  The Non-Blonde.  For the Love of Perfume.  1000 Scents.  

* Here’s some further information on bottle splits (scroll down into the post), in case you’re not familiar with this wonderful opportunity for owning small amounts of full bottles you can’t afford. In my case, there are a lot of scents I’d love to own, but can’t swing $200 a pop; sometimes I don’t even want a whole bottle, and 5 or 10 ml is the perfect amount. Splits are the way to go, if possible. Robin at NST has more information, too.

Image of 31 Rue Cambon bottle from Fragrantica.  Image of Coco Chanel and Suzy Parker ca. 1957 from The Recessionista.

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Brain Fail…

Update:  Please note that there will be a new review posted here on Friday by noon Eastern Daylight Time.   Things are a little busy around here… 

I meant to have another “An AldeHo Dishes” review for posting today.  I don’t have it.  I’ve been wearing Baghari, vintage and modern, and I have so little to say about it that there’s no point in even trying.  Also, I’m trying to get Taz’ room cleaned and in ready-to-paint condition, and I’m working on a difficult scene in the novel.

So I’m going to move on to another fragrance… Le Temps d’une Fete is calling me… and share another photo of my daughter and her sweetie in their Homecoming finery.  (It should be apparent why his nom de blog is Pretty Eyed Trumpet Boy.)

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An AldeHo Dishes: Divine L’Ame Soeur, a Thumbnail Review

Yup, more aldehydes. This one is a favorite of our dear Daisy, Empress of Perfumista Enabling, and my small decant came from her.

P:TG review: *** aldehydic woody This combination of dry, talcum-powder wood and a slightly metallic, sweaty cast I find classical in feel and pleasingly aloof, and LT finds nerve-wracking in the extreme. Several fragrances in this vegetal, pale, unsweetened style have come down the pike in recent years, two by Pierre Bourdon (Ferré, Iris Poudre). This one from 2004 (the names means “soul mate”) by young perfumer Yann Vasnier seems both steely and mild-mannered, like a sort of woman you might have known whose soft, maternal build belies an icy manner. TS

(I’m still puzzled by the reference to Iris Poudre as being “vegetal” and “unsweetened.” “Pale” it may be, but in a white-angora-sweater sort of way, and it always strikes me as being fluffy and candy-sweet, due to the lovely benzoin in the base.)

But I digress. L’Ame Soeur, when I first started wearing this decant, struck me as being both fruity and aldehydic. Sometime around 8 months ago, I started smelling a faintly sour, celerylike twist in it every time I put it on. The celery is fleeting, thank goodness, but there is a saltiness to the scent that seems odd to me. I cannot pick out any florals, and the entire fragrance has a slick texture that I can’t quite put my finger on.

The notes, according to Divine’s website, include Bulgarian rose otto, ylang-ylang, jasmine, and ambergris. Unquestionably, there are also aldehydes, and I suggest a bit of vetiver as well. I don’t know if the ambergris note is ambreine, or ambrox, or cetalox, or what-have-you, but it is a salty-soapy note that reminds me quite a bit of Creed’s Fleurs de Bulgarie.

I’m still not sure whether I like L’Ame Soeur or not. I do know that I’d almost always go hunting one of my many other aldehydic floral scents when I want one. There is a strangely sour, salty cast to this fragrance that makes me think of Chinese food gone stale, and sometimes it bothers me more often than other times.

I’ll add a rating system. Scents of Scelf just added one, and it’s fun: pictures of the Harajuku Lovers fragrances, from 1 figure to 5. I’m not that clever, so I think I’ll go with stars or something equally clear but uninspiring… I’ll give L’Ame Soeur 2.5 stars. It ranges from “acceptable” to “below average.”  Other reviews of  L’Ame Soeur: Bois de Jasmin and Aromascope (brief), both of which are more favorable than this review!

Bottle image from Fragrantica.

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An AldeHo Dishes: Lady Stetson, a Thumbnail Review

In my teens and twenties, I’d have told you that I didn’t like aldehydes. I may have been affected by my mother’s use of Chanel No. 5, and by my disavowal of anything that Smells Like My Mother. Aldehydes are very much out of fashion these days, with only the occasional niche fragrance firm making use of them, and then only rarely.

But now I love them. There’s just something about aldehydes that say “proper perfume” to me, and I enjoy that little clean fizzy sparkle they can give to a scent, as well as the powdery cast they leave behind. I call myself an AldeHo these days; I’m always interested in trying new ones.

Earlier in the life of this blog, I reviewed several other aldehydic fragrances, including THE QUEEN ALDEHYDE, Chanel No. 5, as well as some others in that fragrance category. Click for reviews of Chanel No. 5, No. 5 Eau Premiere, Mariella Burani, Serge Lutens La Myrrhe, Guerlain Vega, Lanvin Arpege, Elizabeth Taylor White Diamonds, Ferre by Ferre, Frederic Malle Iris Poudre, Lancome Climat, and Coty L’Aimant (vintage). I’m proposing the occasional review of an aldehydic fragrance in this “AldeHo Dishes” series, on an irregular basis. Some of these reviews will be quick ones, and I’ll call them “thumbnail” reviews. Some will be more in-depth reviews. It will depend on how much time I’ve had with each fragrance, and how much I have to say about them.

Today’s quick fragrance review concerns the decidedly downmarket Coty Lady Stetson, praised by Tania Sanchez in Perfumes: The Guide, particularly in comparison to the far-pricier Chanel No. 22:

Lady Stetson sets out on an airy, slightly powdery peach. As time goes on… The Lady seems simply to relax. It’s a well-balanced structure of just enough amber, just enough floral, just enough peach, just enough soapy citrus to pull up a smile each time it comes to your attention. This fragrance smells great without showing off, and truth to tell, I prefer it to the Chanel. Now, if only the bottle weren’t so hideous.

I’m not a huge fan of Chanel No. 22 either (more on No. 22 to come), but my take on Lady Stetson is a little different.  And the bottle doesn’t bother me, either.  Coty is not a company where you pay for the packaging.

LS does start off with those sweet, powdery aldehydes – not enough to burn your nose, but they’re definitely present – as well as a lactonic peach note. I can’t pick out the florals, but they seem both classical in structure and mostly-synthetic in nature to me: rose and jasmine, perhaps, but not the real expensive stuff. As LS develops and the aldehydes go away, I get more and more peach, amber, and musk. The musk is rather pleasant – the “skin” version rather than the “laundry” version – but I find the amber and peach far too sweet for my taste. I suspect that my skin often renders amber notes too sweet, and not everyone has that problem.

Overall, my complaint with Lady Stetson is that it smells nice, but cheap. I can’t pick out any natural floral notes, and I find it inoffensive but boring. It has a “PTA Volunteer Mom” sort of vibe to it. Although Lady Stetson was launched in 1986, the year I graduated from high school, it smells like the PTA Moms of my own youth: dull, safe, stodgy, but comforting and pleasant.   It smells nothing like the “declaration of independence” this ad touts:

Notes according to Fragrantica: aldehydes, peach, tangerine, rose, ylang-ylang, carnation, jasmine, sandalwood, amber, and oakmoss.  I don’t smell any citrus, and I definitely don’t get any oakmoss out of it at all.  Read Angela’s review at Now Smell This for yet another take on Lady Stetson. 

Rating: ***  Lady Stetson has a couple of undeniable assets: it smells decent, it’s easily available, and it’s pretty inexpensive. I sprayed from a tester at my local Wal-Mart. A 30ml bottle will run you $16.50 there, a huuuuge bargain… if you like it.

Images are from Fragrantica.

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Scent Diary, Sept. 19-25, 2011

Fall Leaves 1 by C.A. Mullhaupt at flickr

Monday, Sept. 19: Chilly. SOTD: the wonderful, happy-making Parfums de Nicolaï Vanille Tonka. (I got it on my sweater, squee!)

Tuesday, Sept. 20: Cloudy and chilly again. SOTD: Liz Zorn Centennial, the floral chypre Musette was raving about over on Perfume Posse last week. I nabbed one of the last ones while they were on sale and still available. It’s gorgeous.

Wednesday, Sept. 21: Rainy. The yard needs mowing, but of course I can’t mow in the rain. This is a boring week, so far… which is okay, the weekend is likely to be crazy busy. SOTD: Soivohle (Liz Zorn) Centennial again, with a tiny test patch of her Love Speaks Primeval on the back of one hand. It’s easy to tell that LSP grew out of Centennial, which was formerly known as Historical Chypre; they blend very nicely together, but LSP is spicier, slightly less floral and peachy, and it has that drrty-grindy thing (fossilized hyrax droppings, a sort of substitute for civet) in there that is sort of deliciously disgusting.

We finally have a plan for Bookworm’s Homecoming hairstyle, and it’s one I can do myself. Whew. She didn’t want a hairstylist to do it, and she’s all stressed about getting back from the track meet on time to get ready for the dance anyway.

Thursday, Sept. 22: Warmer today, and after the fog burned off this morning, the afternoon has been sunny and pleasant. SOTD: Liz Zorn Centennial. I think I’m addicted…

Mowed half the yard before I had to go pick Bookworm up from band practice. Gaze went out to feed the calf and then found out that Jeff the hired guy had taken her to a new cow mama whose calf had come too early and died. SOTEvening: Mary Greenwell Plum. The more often I wear it, the more “pink” it seems – but not in a stupid Barbie-pink sort of way, more of a romantic pink glow.

Friday, Sept. 23: Rain rain rain. Hope it clears up before the Homecoming game… SOTD: DSH Chypre layered with Mary Greenwell Plum, yummy. Good writing session today. The rain left around noon, and I mowed the rest of the yard. It looked like beautiful weather for the football game, and I left the house with Bookworm’s dinner (on Fridays she goes to cross-country practice before the band convenes for the game and has no time to come home), it was sunny. By the time I got to the high school, almost ten minutes later, it was starting to rain again. It bucketed down, and then cleared up in time for me to go help set up the visitor’s side concession stand. At halftime, we were down 7-21, and of course the band played for the announcement of the homecoming court, and it started raining again. The uniforms are completely soaked… not to mention the instruments. Aargh.

Saturday, Sept. 24: Homecoming dance tonight! Bookworm was off early to her cross-country meet two hours away, and the rest of us cleaned house. SOTD: Shalimar Light. The CEO went out to canvass for support in the School Board election, and I picked up her date’s boutonniere at the florist, and IT RAINED. I was feeling dire about the weather and Bookworm’s bare shoulders. She got back from the meet pleased with her race – she’d come in 21^st in a large field, and one of her teammates finished tenth. So then we did her hair and got her all dressed and made up and scented in Hanae Mori Butterfly without messing up the hair (I’d forgotten how difficult that is!). And then the sun came out, and she and PETBoy put flowers on each other and headed off in his white pickup to meet friends for dinner and then the dance…

Putting flowers on each other, photo by The CEO

Sunday, Sept. 25: Cloudy cool day, perfect for Liz Zorn Centennial. Bookworm doesn’t like it. Gaze and The CEO both do, The CEO commenting that “it’s just pretty. A Miss America contestant should wear that, just to remind everyone how pretty she is.” I’m definitely getting addicted to it the way I am to Mary Greenwell Plum; they’d probably play nicely together, by the way.

The CEO and I made sure to be out of range of the front porch last night when Bookworm came home, but after I heard the door close and her date’s truck leave, I came upstairs to find out how the evening went: great, apparently. I kissed her cheek, expecting to smell her Hanae Mori, but instead smelled PETBoy’s cologne, probably transferred to her cheek during some slow dance or other. (By the way, early scouting reports say that it is True Religion, which Fragrantica calls an aromatic fougere. It’s a classic Guy Smell, quiet and reliable and pleasant. I approve.)

My allergies are killing me. I’ve had that icepick-to-the-sinuses kind of headache all day. I am so grateful for Sudafed!

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Perfume Review: Liz Zorn Centennial (formerly named Historical Chypre)

I blame Musette. And ScentScelf.

These two ladies are some of my Favorite Bloggers Ever, and I love to read what they write.  Sometimes they move me, and sometimes they totally crack me up. We don’t always love the same things, although I share a love of Big White Florals with Musette and an appreciation of Greenies with ScentScelf, and I do know their real-life names. Word is that they live not that far from Chicago (as compared to the rest of the country), and both are devotees of  Liz Zorn Perfumes.

I cast a self-righteous pointer finger of condemnation in each woman’s general direction.

Because the other week, on one of the Facebook perfumista group pages, ScentScelf was nattering on about this wonderful Historical Chypre thing (which I always seem to read as Hysterical Chypre, probably because I am Not Having a Good Week, probably because I am approaching at least Pre-Menopausal Insanity, thus the Hysterical womb reference, which is probably ironic given that my teenage daughter is suddenly out there in the dating world, which hardly seems possible given that I frequently think of her as being nineteen-and-a-half inches long with nothin’ but peach-colored peach fuzz on her beautiful hazelnut-shaped head) .

Anyway, I noticed the chypre reference because that’s what I’ve been craving lately. I checked the LZ website, thinking about a sample, and then found that I couldn’t sample this one except as part of a set of six, and I’d already tried one of the set and didn’t like it (Oolong Ti), and three of the others sounded very Not Me by the notes, and that was bad odds so I forgot about it.

And thennn, Musette referred to Centennial in her recent post about craving chypres lately (where have I heard that before?), and she followed up that glowing reference with the shocking news that Centennial and several others in its line at Liz Zorn/Soivohle were ON SALE.

So I bought a bottle.

Soivohle Oudh Lacquer (couldn't find a pic of the Retro Collection, and my camera's being temperamental today)

At discounted niche/indie prices, it was still $18 for an 11 ml bottle of eau de parfum, which is not ridiculous, but still iffy for an unsniffed thing that I could wind up hating. And this package shows up the other day, and it has a little box in it that’s filled with a bottle wrapped in this exquisitely textured blue paper, a real joy to open.

So I opened it and spritzed.

“Smells like Cachet,” I said to myself. I wore Prince Matchabelli Cachet, from the drugstore, when I was a teenager. Didn’t love it the way I did Chloe, but it was nice, and I decided that I’d give Centennial a real chance.

Liz Zorn’s website says this about Centennial: Otherwise known as our Historical Chypre, is a throw back to early 20^th century Floral Chypres, with notes of Rose, Jasmine and Orange Blossom, wrapped in classic chypre veil. Now, you know me: I adore me some florals. I live in them. I never feel that they overwhelm me or out-girly me. I do not love those Fierce Green Chypres, Bandit and Scherrer and the like. They skeer me a little. They’re too mean. Miss Dior kept trying to shiv me when I first opened her vial, and I had to wrassle her to get her to behave.

But you throw me a floral with a chypre backbone, and I am happy. The intelligence and aquiline features of a chypre in the pretty silk-satin dress of good natural florals seems just about perfect to me, and Centennial does not disappoint.

Centennial opens up with a smack of bergamot and a little waft of what I would swear were aldehydes, as well as a hint of the inky-green, juicy moss-and-labdanum stuff you get in real chypres. It’s pretty bloomy at this stage, but two spritzes keeps it within my self-imposed three-foot radiating limit. It’s only after about half an hour that I really notice the florals, and they are so well-blended that I can’t even tease them out from the big bouquet individually. I think that I smell something else in there, too, a note that smells quite dirty to me. It’s not civet, or at least I don’t think it is – it could be narcissus, perhaps, with the barnyard connotion it sometimes has, something overripe. There’s a sweetness to the floral mix that I attribute to the orange blossom and maybe just a sweet-banana bit of ylang-ylang, and it balances out that inky pine green of the chypre base, and it is really lovely. There is also, at the end of this stage, a suedey peachy thing over the inky pine that reminds me just a bit of Mitsouko (which I do not love, remember?) but softer, closer to the skin.

After about three and a half or four hours, Centennial is down to a skin scent, a delightfully soft bathed-and-talcumed smell that reminds me of the far drydown of 1980s Coty Chypre or of Miss Dior parfum, the vintage stuff, with its wonderful contrast of skin warmth and cool powder. It is huffable, preferably with nose about a centimeter from skin, and really almost sexy, I’d say, in a cozy yet intellectual sort of way.

Centennial does not last much past the four-hour mark. It is a little less long-lived than I’d like, especially for an EdP, but I know that mostly-natural perfumes tend to last a shorter period of time on my skin, and the drydown is so pretty that I forgive it for being short.

I went to pick up Gaze from school about an hour after spritzing Centennial; he’d had after-school band practice. He got into the car and commented, “Hey, you smell really good. I like it.” I asked him if it reminded him of anything, and he thought for a moment before responding, “It makes me think of an old church just letting out after the service. In the summer. Like… old ladies’ perfume, but like outside too, sort of fresh.” Oakmoss must remind him of church in some way; I remember that his comments on Roja Dove Diaghilev, another chypre, mentioned “old churches” as well (but were less complimentary!).

I am rather sad to report that Centennial has sold out. I have been addicted to it for the past three days, only abandoning its dregs for a hit of DSH Chypre, or the modern floral chypre Mary Greenwell Plum, or my sample of Liz Zorn’s based-on-Centennial fragrance called Love Speaks Primeval, the one with Africa stone in it.

My outstretched pointer fingers have become a potential embrace, just waiting for the time when I might meet either Musette or ScentScelf face to face. I want to thank them – for the laughs, the thoughtful connections made, the word “palimpsest,” the cow emoticons, the whole bit.

And for Centennial. You gals got it right. Thanks. Really.

Photo of Soivohle Oudh Lacquer from Nathan Branch.

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Scent Diary, Sept. 12-18, 2011

John Deere 4440 and round baler, seen behind the Morning Glory Vine That Ate the Porch

Monday, Sept. 12: Another beautiful day. I finally finished sewing the ribbon trim to Bookworm’s Homecoming dress, yay! She’s going to be so lovely in it. SOTMorning: a test sample of Sonoma Scent Studio’s upcoming scent which goes by the working name of “Classic.” It was gorgeously floral for some time, and then went all celery-vetiverish and vanilla. I’m betting it’s me, because on paper it is stunningly sandalwoody.

SOTE: Le Temps d’une Fete, beautiful. Attended Band Booster meeting… SO MUCH WORK goes into what happens on the field at the football game; most people have no idea. (Okay, to be fair, I have no idea what the football parents of the Touchdown Club do – they probably do fundraisers, too, and help haul around the equipment. But the football team is better funded, that much I know.)

Update: Oops, misjudged the strap length on one side. Must fix. Also, the shoes she liked two weeks ago no longer suit her: too unstable, and they’re going to rub her pinky toes. Arrrrrrgh. Really, she just needs practice walking in heels! I started wearing heels to church when I was, oh, 11 or 12, and was awkward in them for awhile, but I wanted to learn. She doesn’t want to practice, and she thinks the problem is in the shoes. They aren’t even high heels – they’re 1 ¾” tall, and they’re on the chunky side, somewhere between “kitten” and “court” heels.

Tuesday, Sept. 13: SOTD: Vintage Balmain Jolie Madame extrait. I’m spoiling myself. This vtg extrait is both incredibly floral and incredibly leathery, and completely ladylike in an unpowdery way. Also retesting SSS “Classic” on the back of my hand. No celery today, yippee.

SOTEvening: Cuir de Lancome.

Did a little sniffery with Taz before dinner, and gave him several so-called masculine scents to sniff, trying to find out his preferences. He’s got a birthday coming up in a few weeks (as does Gaze, 8 days later). C&S No. 88 he didn’t like; nor did he like DSH Lucky Clover. He said Acqua di Gio and Dior Homme Sport were just “okay,” and he did not like Hermes Bel Ami and YSL M7 at all. What did he like? Shalimar Light and Chanel Egoiste. Wonder if I could find an Egoiste smell-alike for him… there’s no way I’m buying a Chanel for an 11-year-old! Maybe I could search Fragrantica for a woody-spicy fragrance that isn’t expensive. Hmm.

Wednesday, Sept. 14: Mowed grass. There won’t be too many more times to do that; the growth has already slowed quite a bit. SOTD: Champagne de Bois.

Thursday, Sept. 15: Cool front moving in! SOTD: Coty Chypre on wrists, and DSH Chypre on inner forearms. Lovely stuff. Finished hemming Bookworm’s new jeans. After her conniption fit ther other day about her Homecoming shoes, I bought a different batch of shoes for her to try. She likes one pair that has heels a trifle lower, and thinks she might choose them instead of the other pair. I like them both, and although I think the first pair is slightly prettier, I’m not the one wearing them… sigh. I should be glad she’s in any heels at all.

(Thank goodness for Zappos and OnlineShoes! She has teeny feet, and nobody in this area carries size 5 for women. Any size 5s I can find locally – and there aren’t many! – tend to be little-girl shoes. Luckily, she takes a size 6 in running shoes, or we’d be in trouble there too.)

Community Chorus rehearsal went pretty well. SOTEvening: Caron Parfum Sacre, lovely cozy stuff.

 

PCHS tubas rockin' it to "Hey, Baby," at the football game, photo by Nicole Ward

Friday, Sept. 16: Did some bookkeeping stuff and laundry and a bit of cleaning, since I’m planning to be gone all afternoon Saturday. SOTD: SSS Champagne de Bois. Also, got called in as a substitute band chaperone for the away football game tonight, so I was gone from 3 pm to past midnight. (And we lost, 38-28. Ow. The football team is now 0 for 4. The band, OTOH, was great.)

Saturday, Sept. 17: Cleaned house – well, to be honest, I gave it “a lick and a promise,” as my grandmother always called any half-hearted attempt. After lunch, I dropped Bookworm off at school for marching band quick rehearsal before they left for their competition. The CEO managed to score two tickets to the Virginia Tech football game, and it was Taz’ turn to go, so those two headed off for the game while Gaze and I went to my parents’ house. He stayed to watch the game on TV with my dad (another VT alumnus), while Mom and I went to watch the band competition, which was being hosted by my own high school. SOTD: SSS Champagne de Bois, still on my band shirt from last night, with a tiny layering of Tabac Aurea as well. Nice.

It was actually tough to be there at my old school, hearing cadences played, and not marching. I don’t miss high school much. But I miss marching band. I had terrific friends there, even better maybe than my choir friends or youth group friends. And I always loved cadence; it still makes my blood itch and my feet want to move.

Bookworm’s school did very well. The show was the cleanest I’ve seen it performed yet. This competition is early in the season and designed as a clinic – i.e., for the purpose of providing bands with judging and constructive criticism to help shape the rest of the competition season. We were gratified to notice that PCHS received the highest score of the day, a quarter of a point better than that really big band from North Carolina. I’m so proud.

Sunday, Sept. 18: Since we didn’t actually take a family vacation this summer, we’d promised the boys that we’d take them to the amusement park (Carowinds, on the border between North and South Carolina, about two hours’ drive away). Today shaped up to be really great for it: temps in the 70s, mostly cloudy. Very comfortable weather, and the park isn’t crowded in the fall, so you can ride pretty much anything you want, with very little waiting in line. PETBoy went with us, and honestly, deserved a gold star or two for hanging with Bookworm, who is a roller coaster fiend. I like roller coasters myself, but there are a couple that I don’t enjoy at this park. PETBoy rode them with her, and even rode once with Taz, just so I could sit out the wooden coaster that gives me a headache. SOTD: Balenciaga Paris, which is quite nice: violet leaf, violet, comfortable tonka-musk drydown. I’ll probably use up my sample (thanks, Undina!) and enjoy it, and never give it another thought.

Got home very late and gratefully collapsed into the sheets wearing Shalimar Light.

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Perfume Reviews: Coty Chypre (reissued) edt and DSH Chypre oil

Coty Chypre, first released in 1917, was a stunningly successful fragrance that immediately began to influence perfumery, and is still influencing it. While it wasn’t the first chypre fragrance released (there were at least two others on the market, released circa 1909), it was the one that caught everyone’s attention. Countless words have been written about the impact of Chypre, and so I won’t belabor the point but will point you toward some excellent articles on the subject. Briefly, it is based on an accord of bergamot, oakmoss, and labdanum, along with florals and woody notes such as patchouli and sandalwood, and all chypre-type fragrances have these components.

For more on the impact, history, and structure of Chypre, read this post by Victoria at Bois de Jasmin.  Also, Elena at Perfume Shrine has a whole series discussing the chypre genre which is well worth reading, as well as a review of Coty Chypre written by Denise of Grain de Musc.

Coty stopped producing Chypre sometime in the 1960s, so far as I can tell, and then reissued it in 1986, along with two other older fragrances, La Rose Jacqueminot and Les Muses, as eau de toilette. I have two samples of Coty Chypre, both of the 1980s reissue but from different sources. They are quite similar. Both are dabber samples, so I haven’t been able to experience Chypre sprayed.

The Coty starts out with that indefinably “old-lady” vibe, which for me evokes my great-aunt’s dressing table. Aunt Leacy was the wife of a dairy farmer/minister, the sister of my grandmother Sarah Lou, and it’s hard for me to imagine a relative’s house, other than my grandmother Nell’s, more welcoming and enjoyable for a kid. I loved visiting her. There is a definite face-powder note to the Coty scent – not surprising perhaps when you realize that for years Coty scented their loose face powder with Chypre – and there is a dry dustiness to even the topnotes, which have probably lost their citrusy power by now.

From the beginning, I smell that powdery oakmoss and the ghost of something vaguely citrus (which we all know was once bergamot). Under that is a very blended, classical heart of rose and jasmine, and I’d swear there’s just a hint of cool, satiny iris in the mix too. Occasionally I get a waft of a sweet floral note that could be ylang-ylang, but not every time I wear it. On skin, Coty Chypre stays in this rose-jasmine-moss mode for about two hours before getting even more comfortable, with that powdered moss gradually becoming less powdery and more alive. The labdanum is well-mannered, which isn’t always the case, and it mostly serves to warm up the moss to create a lovely gentle smell that stays close to the skin.

It lasts about three hours on me, quite light, but, as always with fragrances that aren’t fresh from the perfumer, age and storage could have affected its strength and longevity adversely. Having read Luca Turin’s assessment of Coty Chypre, I was surprised to find it an extremely wearable scent, relaxed and quietly confident. Here’s what he has to say, from the review of Guerlain Mitsouko (which I freely admit right now that I do not like without knowing why):

[Mitsouko is] an improvement on Francois Coty’s Chypre, released… two years earlier. Chypre… is brilliant, but it does have a big-boned, bad-tempered Joan Crawford feel to it, and was a fragrance in whose company you could never entirely rest your weight.

I still have not smelled the original formula of Coty Chypre, which is said to have been bold, modern, and surprising. But I do like the reissued Coty Chypre. It is cool and smooth and self-possessed, and I enjoy wearing it. What it reminds me most of is a sample of vintage Miss Dior parfum (thanks, Tamara!), which smells to me both of face powder and of intimacy, of dressing up and of the smell of skin at a near distance.

Read more reviews of Coty Chypre at The Non-Blonde, Yesterday’s Perfume, Olfactarama, Suzanne’s Perfume Journal (Eiderdown Press), and Perfume Fountain.  (Know of any other reviews?  Share, please!)

However, given my surprise at enjoying the reissued Coty, I have to mention that Dawn Spencer Hurwitz’ recreation of Coty Chypre simply stunned me. It is elemental, a natural force that buffets me with emotion.

Caveat: before you go rushing off to the DSH Perfumes website to order it, I have to give you the sad news that it is discontinued. I’m so sorry to even bring it up, but it’s so amazing that I simply can’t not write about it.

I have DSH Chypre in oil format and of course have only dabbed it. But that’s fine in this case. I often feel that oils are not a good format for me, because what I gain in longevity I give up in sillage, and my preference really depends on what kind of fragrance it is. Florals in oil format are frequently too quiet and wear too close to the skin for me (and you might remember I’m not a fan of big sillage!). But Dawn’s Chypre in oil is just about perfect: it has body, it has depth, and just a bit of waft.

The notes, so far as I managed to jot them down before Chypre disappeared from the DSH website (and I make no promises that these are correct or complete), are thus: bergamot, rose, jasmine, oakmoss, labdanum, patchouli, musk.

The DSH Chypre is, presumably, based on an older formula of Coty Chypre, since it bears very little relation to the 80s reissue I’ve smelled. And it is indeed bold, uncompromising, and starkly contrasted, a good counterpart to the strange Cubist and Fauvist art of the early 20^th century. DSH’s version starts out with a strongly aromatic, resiny bergamot, under which I can immediately smell the labdanum like a sustained bass note. After a few moments, I begin to smell rose and jasmine as well as the bitter citrus and labdanum. This phase continues for some time, and if I sniff carefully I seem to pick up hints of a creamy, ripe floral note that reminds me of ylang-ylang, as well as a small bit of powdery cool iris. This is definitely not a powdery scent, however, keeping it miles away from the reissued Coty, even after the oakmoss note sort of sliiiiides stealthily into the picture. There is a bitter, earthy, yet lively character to DSH Chypre, and I would never in a million years call this thing “pretty.”

Yet it’s compelling. It’s one of those scents that grabs me by the base of the spine and yanks, saying to me, “You know you’re human, right? You know you’re a creature and you won’t live forever, right? Well, while you’re still around, get going. Live a little. No, I’ll rephrase that: live a lot.”

After several hours all I can smell is that soft, ambery labdanum, with perhaps a bit of musk, and it is almost edibly delicious. This is the only stage that my family seems to enjoy. Gaze said, “Vanilla? Amber? Almost something you could eat. Nice.” Before it gets to this stage, noses wrinkle and children leave the room. I think my family’s unevolved. Or maybe I am, given the brute power of DSH Chypre. Not that it’s beastly or animalic in any way that I can tell – I rather like civet, in small doses, and I tend to be pretty sensitive to some musks smelling dirty – it’s just… raw and untamed and lacking in parlor manners.

Which is just fine with me.  I’ve been wearing this thing all summer, intoxicated by its elemental appeal.

Top image of reissued Coty Chypre from Eiderdown Press.  Lower image of vintage Coty Chypre from Perfume Fountain.  Image of labdanum resin from Labdanum-shop.

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Recipe: Nell’s Stuffed Peppers

I grew up thinking that “stuffed peppers” meant this.  It was one of my dad’s absolute favorite dishes, one he would frequently request in the summer, and I was always thrilled to find it on the stove.  I was terribly disappointed at a friend’s house once, when finding out that to her mom, “stuffed peppers” meant green pepper cups filled with a mixture of rice, ground beef, and tomato sauce.  Not that Mrs. Fowler’s stuffed peppers were bad, mind you – they were actually pretty delicious! – but they were definitely not Nell’s stuffed peppers.

This was a recipe created by my grandmother’s mother, the end of one summer more than a hundred years ago, when her garden was full of corn and peppers and tomatoes and she was at her wits’ end as to what to do with them! 

 

Nell’s Corn-Stuffed Peppers (adapted from recipe created by Emma Zetta Austin)

2 cups corn, either fresh cut off the cob or frozen and thawed

1-2 tomatoes, diced, about 1 cup

1/2 to ¾ cup shredded Colby or cheddar cheese

½ cup fresh (soft) bread crumbs

3 or 4 medium green peppers

½ tsp black pepper

½ tsp dried basil (optional)

1 slice raw bacon, cut into 1” strips (optional)

Preheat oven to 350° F. Halve green peppers lengthwise and remove seeds and membranes.  Steam in steamer basket 3-5 minutes, or cook in microwavable dish, with ½ cup added water, until just tender.  Drain green pepper “boats” and set aside.

Mix corn, tomato, cheese, crumbs, and seasonings in a medium bowl.  Mixture should be moist enough to stick together well.  Add more bread crumbs if too wet; add water 1 Tbsp. at a time if too dry.  (The moisture level usually depends on that of the tomato.)

Spray baking dish with nonstick spray.  Fill pepper halves with corn mixture and top each with one piece of bacon, if using. Place in baking dish.  Bake 25-30 minutes, or until lightly browned on top.

These are wonderful with ham or roast beef.  The corn mixture without green peppers is fantastic with baked fish, too.  The recipe may be increased, and filled, unbaked peppers freeze well. 

Because my dad no longer eats peppers at all due to digestive complaints, and two of my kids don’t like them, I often use fewer green peppers and prop them on a bed of the corn mixture.  I sometimes substitute pepper jack cheese for the cheddar; if so, I eliminate the basil.

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Scent Diary, Sept. 5-11, 2011

Monday, Sept. 5: Rain, rain, all day. Thank the Lord! We had been dry for a long time. I know it’s Labor Day, but The CEO had to work and we had no family gathering scheduled, so it was a routine sort of day except that school was out. Took Bookworm to do her final day of behind-the-wheel instruction and driver’s test today; she passed. Her driver’s license will actually become valid on Sept. 21 (and she can drive her own self to school at 6:15 am, and her own self home from school at 5:30 or 6:15 pm, depending on whether it’s a cross-country practice day or a marching band day). SOTD: TeoCabanel Alahine. Wonderful.

My parents came for a visit, bringing some pictures and souvenirs from their trip to the Rockies. Sounds like they had a terrific vacation. Took Bookworm to cross-country practice (yes, in the rain) and bought groceries. Tested Heidi Klum Shine at Wal-Mart – it’s a floral oriental with orange notes, jasmine, woods, benzoin and a nice cushy musk, very synthetic but pleasant and fairly long-lasting. I’ve smelled a lot worse at this price point, and even at higher prices at the mall.

Bookworm and her pretty-eyed trumpet boy went out for dinner at the local Mexican place. Her first official date! Ever! She looked cute. (Hey… I think I just discovered his nom de blog – Pretty-Eyed Trumpet Boy, or PETBoy for short…) I made Tuscan chicken and fettucine with peas for us – yum – and chocolate lava cakes for dessert.

Tuesday, Sept. 6: SOTD: Amouage Lyric Woman. It was windy and raining buckets today, and I nearly put on the vintage Magie Noire, but I decided I wanted noble beauty instead of wild exhilaration. It occurs to me that up to now I have not written a review of Lyric, and I should remedy that. It was the first expensive bottle split I participated in, with some friends from Now Smell This, and I am thoroughly glad that I did.

Wednesday, Sept. 7: Rain clearing up today. Feels like fall. Due to the rain, at my own high school (60 miles away), a huge sinkhole has opened up at the entrance to the school! Holy moly. SOTD: SSS Champagne de Bois. Spritzed a bit in the car to make it smell great. SOTEvening: Smell Bent One, which reminds me of the way the long-gone Books, Strings & Things store smelled – spices and old books, the packaging on new CDs, and the faint smell of paint from the art supply section… Sigh. I miss BS&T.

Thursday, Sept. 8: Absolutely beautiful weather!! Upper 70s, with a breeze. It was a rare day when I was really craving a sweet scent, so I snuck a spritz of Bookworm’s Hanae Mori(Butterfly), and some of herBath & Body Works Dark Kiss lotion.

Potluck dinner with the community chorus and practice at the Methodist church picnic shelter. SOTEvening: Tauer Une Rose Vermeille, to continue the berry-vanilla gourmand theme.

Friday, Sept. 9: The CEO isn’t feeling well. Neither am I, but I think my issue is allergies. Guess I should go pop a Sudafed and just get on with enjoying the fall weather. SOTD: Arpege, a layering of modern EdP and vintage extrait.

Football game was disastrous… our high school lost, 31 -7. Aargh. It’ll be a short football season, but it’ll feel like an excruciatingly long one. The band was good, though. SOTD: Cuir de Lancome, which went well with the barbecue the Band Boosters were selling.

Saturday, Sept. 10: Cleaned up, as usual. Weather is incredibly gorgeous – 78F, low humidity, big fluffy clouds in the sky. Bookworm went to a large cross-country meet today, and out of 193 runners in her race, came in 37^th, with a personal record 48 seconds faster than her previous best time. Very, very proud of her!

Went to the county Farm Bureau annual picnic and business meeting, wearing Mary Greenwell Plum. I love Plum. Bookworm skipped the picnic to go see a movie with PETBoy. Her face was just glowing when she came in.

Gaze went squirrel hunting with our farm helper, Jeff, and his six-year-old daughter Makayla, today. I don’t think they got any squirrels, but Jeff let him fire the shotgun at a pop bottle on a fencepost – and Gaze hit it! Amazing.

Sunday, Sept. 11: Early church. Biscuits and bacon and scrambled eggs for breakfast. Apple slices, spinach, and mozzarella sticks with marinara for lunch. Yum. SOTD: Mary Greenwell Plum again. Can I just repeat myself and say “I love Plum” again?

Ripped out a lot of the Morning Glory Vine That Ate the Porch, as well as some of the black-eyed Susans encroaching on the brick walkway, and a whole lotta weeds. Arrgh. We’re also taking out the sandbox, since the boys seem too old for it now. Ah, those were good times, with kids in the sandbox.

Dinner: sirloin steak (from a cow that broke her hip and has since been in the freezer), baked potatoes, my grandmother’s mother’s recipe for corn-stuffed green peppers, and green beans.  We’ve eaten well today.

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