Tom Ford Champaca Absolute: Perfume Review

A fail-proof way to create a perfume I am guaranteed to like is to make it smell Like a Chanel. Or what is my idea of a Chanel (forgive me for quoting myself, in a review of Beige): "...abstract, complex, and, regardless of whether it is full of natural ingredients or totally synthetic, (...) man-made, for a lack of a better term." ...In other words, to make it smell as a Proper Perfume (again in my interpretation): "...to smell of no particular ingredient but rather to appear as an amalgamation of several, almost indistinguishable notes ... to interpret its inspiration in a non-literal, non-obvious manner ... to smell man-made, not found-in-nature." Clearly, the Tom Ford Beauty team has decided to follow my requirements (as every perfume-creating team should by the way!) and to create a Proper Perfume. They also were clearly aware than I have always been a big fan of Cold Perfumey Florals (a category made up by moi and thus very subjective) in vein of Chanel's Beige, Gardenia and Hermes's 24, Faubourg. In his new Champaca Absolute, Tom Ford created a bespoke Cold Perfumey Floral fragrance for yours truly...it's just that he doesn't know it. So much does Champaca Absolute remind me of Beige - in concept not in notes!- that I could almost take my old review, change freesia and frangipani for champaca and jasmine and be done with it. When I say, in concept, I mean that, like Beige, Champaca Absolute strikes me as being "a cold, somewhat arrogant beauty, a "better than thou" scent." For most parts, it is a stylized floral bouquet, a chic and meticulous arrangement made of flowers that have been grown and pampered in an exclusive orangery with man-controlled environmental conditions...and not of those you gather in the wild, carelessly bring home and put in a rustic vase in a haphazard manner. Having said that, there IS a very green and very natural part right after the heady, tiny bit boozy (cognac, Tokaii (yes, it is that specific) wine and the naturally drunken davana) floral top notes subside, where it might seem that -oh the horror!- the bouquet could indeed have come from some kind of unruly forest...for some time, Champaca Absolute just smells so...real and untamed. I suspect that what gives the silken blend of champaca, jasmine and orchids that ragged, dry, windswept edge is the broom note (in Beige, it was hawthorn). And then the wild note disappears, sleek bob smoothed, slinky dress straightened, face back to its expression of polite superiority. Nature? One has never been to nature, nature is too dirty and uncontrollable. And one has never heard of Oliver Mellors either. What's remarkable is how remarkably filthy the drydown smells on my skin, not animalic-filthy like musk or civet but more like mineral-rooty-filthy...whatever it is in the inoffensive-sounding base of vanilla, amber, marron glace (!) and sandalwood that makes it smell up to good I do not know. But I suppose that what it shows is that you can take champaca out of the wild but you can't take the wild out of champaca. Available at Nieman Marcus, $180.00-$450.00 for 50ml-250ml of -very, very long-lasting- Eau de Parfum.

Divine by Divine and thoughts on Proper Perfume

The other day, I was talking with a friend about what a Proper Perfume is like. I came to the conclusion that it has to be abstract, i.e. to smell of no particular ingredient but rather to appear as an amalgamation of several, almost indistinguishable notes (classic Chanels are an example of how such abstraction is done); it has to interpret its inspiration in a non-literal, non-obvious manner (most of Etat Libre d'Orange scents are examples of how not to interpret an inspiration); it -and this is directly related to the first two requirements - has to be in fact a Perfume, not a Smell: I don't want to smell of actual rain, actual snow, actual rose... I want to smell of rain as interpreted through an abstract prism of perfumer's unconventional imagination. "Realistic", for me, is not a compliment for a fragrance. It can be entirely natural, but, to be a Proper Perfume, it still has to smell man-made, not found-in-nature. (Demeters and a lot of CB I Hates are smells. Genius in their realism, but smells. Old Guerlains and old Diors, Editions de Parfums and Annick Goutals are perfumes.) Divine by Divine is a Proper Perfume. If you read that it consists of tuberose, coriander, peach, vanilla and moss, among other things, you will smell them. Otherwise, the fragrance will unfold as a beautiful harmony in which no voice can be heard and recognized better than others. It is a group effort and it is an abstraction. It is complex, but, as a perfectly tailored silk dress, it appears seamless and fits effortlessly. The progression from fruity-spicy top notes, to the creamy floral heart to the mossy, vanillic drydown is classic, and yet the perfume smells like no other. Because it is so buttery-smooth and accordant, it is very easy to wear, but it is not a casual scent. And it brings me to another important characteristic of a Proper Perfume... However mundane real life is and however few evenings in the Opéra, chic soirees and formal dinners an average life contains, a Proper Perfume has to be glamorous. Which Divine certainly is. So what to wear to elegant Holiday parties? This! Impeccably refined, rich and, as such, slightly old-fashioned, Divine is a perfect companion on a dressy occasion. Available at luckyscent.com and divine.fr, $120.00 for 50ml. Image source, Ralph Lauren.

Perfume Review: Chanel Beige

Beige is the new addition to Les Exclusifs de Chanel collection of fragrances. Inspired by Chanel's love for the color ("I take refuge in beige because it's natural," said Mademoiselle), the fragrance is meant to evoke all shades of the elusive hue: from honey to whitish... I have heard several complaints about the name being boring, and by the admission of the Chanel people themselves: "beige may seem quite ordinary." Personally, I am a big fan of the color; stepping into my wardrobe is akin to falling into a sandpit...Like Chanel, I think that "behind this apparent simplicity, it [beige] hides a discreet sensuality." It seems to me that the composition focuses on this sensuality rather than the everyday versatility of the color. The white floral blend of Beige is a silk evening gown, not a practical jersey jacket. Jacques Polge interprets the slinky aspect of beige by using luscious floral notes of freesia and frangipani enriched by a touch of honey. The combination could have been too heady were it not balanced by a sharper note of hawthorn. The silky intensity of Beige, reminiscent of Gardenia, is roughed up by this slightly bitter, angular note, and the smooth-and-jagged effect is very attractive, an olfactory equivalent of raw silk. I particularly love the bitter quality of flowers, the quality that reminds me a little of Hermes's majestic 24, Faubourg. Beige is as elegant and ladylike as it gets (note the emphasis on the discreteness of its sensuality). It is a cold, somewhat arrogant beauty, a "better than thou" scent. It smells like a Proper Perfume in that it is abstract, complex, and, regardless of whether it is full of natural ingredients or totally synthetic, it smells...man-made, for a lack of a better term. It is, in short, very Chanel; and I can't help but admire Polge's ability to keep his creations so very much in spirit of the House. I happen to adore this kind of dressed-up, ladylike, slightly bitchy, coldly intense floral fragrances, so I am thrilled to see one more in Chanel's collection. If I were not a fan of this particular style, I might have questioned the necessity of a very classic smelling white floral in the line that already includes Gardenia. Whether you are attracted by this concept or not, you should smell Beige anyway, if only to refresh a memory of what a Perfume is supposed to be like. In this age of Smells, when perfumes are not supposed to be perfumey anymore, Chanel should be applauded for sticking to their guns and (once in a while) doing what they do best- timeless classics. Beige will be available in October, at first exclusively at Saks Fifth Avenue, 200ml for $190. The quotes and the image of the bottle are from Chanel press release. Our reviews of other Les Exclusif fragrances: 31, Rue Cambon, Bel Respiro, Bois des Iles, Chanel No. 18, Chanel No. 22, Coromandel.