Without Lenin, there would be no Chanel N°5.
The absurd thought occurred to me as I was reading China
Miéville’s meticulously researched and brilliantly written October: The Story of the Russian Revolution. Conflating the Ten Days that Shook the World[i] with
Ernest Beaux’s fifth proposal to Gabrielle Chanel may seem like a bit of a
jump. But Beaux wouldn’t have immigrated to France if it hadn’t been for the
Bolsheviks. And his contribution to perfumery was, if not an actual revolution,
a definite game-changer (unlike the house’s latest offering). Playing with blotters and vials might seem like
strumming the balalaika while the world burns, drowns and quakes (has anybody
else who grew up during the Cold War been having atomic mushroom nightmares
again?). For what it’s worth, this fall I’ll salute the 100th
anniversary of Red October with the ten scents that are shaking my world these
days.
Nuit de Bakélite
by Isabelle
Doyen for Naomi Goodsir
The Zoo
by Christophe Laudamiel
You say you want a revolution? The maverick Laudamiel
has gone and done it. After authoring a manifesto like any proper avant-garde
artist, he is now offering non-IFRA compliant perfumes, to be sprayed on
clothes (or wherever: you’re an adult) in his own brand, The Zoo. He even
specifies which materials go over authorized concentrations. Other scents are
suitable for skin wear. As an added twist, each is offered with a choice of two
names and labels: it’s up to you, for instance, to choose whether you’re more
of a Club Design or Scent Tattoo critter.
Le Cri de la lumière
by Marc-Antoine Corticchiato for
Parfum d’Empire
With a name like “The Scream”, you’d expect
Corticchiato, never one to shy away from intense, saturated notes, to come up
with an olfactory banshee. But the Corsican perfumer has undergone his own
cultural revolution. Presented as a “rebirth”, his crystalline Le Cri is a limpid, dawn-tinged aura of
ambrette, iris and rose. Radiant, but a nose-teaser. Wearing it, more than once
I sniffed at people around me before realizing I was the one who smelled so
good…
Eau de Velours
by Michel Almairac & Mylène Alran for
Bottega Veneta
My crush of the season in the mainstream: a wine-rich,
suede-petaled rose that feels utterly right
-- Almairac’s great gift being what the Renaissance Italians called sprezzatura, defined by Castiglione as “an easy facility in accomplishing difficult
actions which hides the conscious effort that went into them”.
Infusion d’Oeillet
by Daniela Andrier for Prada
No commemoration of the Russian Revolution would be
complete without a carnation, the flower of the Workers’ Movement since the
Second International in 1889 and the iconic blossom of the Soviets. As I’ve
already listed my favorite new carnations in my summer round-up, I’ll go for Infusion d’Oeillet’s chic, spice-whipped
soapy froth.
Bruma
by Antoine Lie for Trudon
The cult French candle maker has ditched the “Cires”
from its name and branched out into fine fragrance with a lovely, soulful collection.
Lyn Harris’s smoky Révolution would
have been more relevant to the theme, but the aromatic Bruma -- the name of the winter solstice in Latin -- radiates a
melancholy palette of violet, lavender and iris that suits the waning light of
the season.
Memory Motel
by Annick Menardo for Une Nuit Nomade
It was already in this summer’s list, but its funky smokiness is like a preview of chilly nights by the fireplace
with a lash of Laphroaig aged in a sherry cask.
Noir Anthracite
Tom Ford
Ford often gives out references to 70s perfumes in his
briefs. Noir Anthracite smells as though, back in the day, young Tom had spray-painted
himself with some dark aromatic leather brew like Van Cleef & Arpels pour Homme after spending quality time with
a doobie, just before sneaking back into his parents’ house. What’s not to
love?
Attaquer le Soleil
by Quentin Bisch for État Libre d’Orange
Though it’s a tribute to the Marquis de Sade -- its
author Quentin Bisch decided to “sadize” himself
by confronting an ingredient that somehow freaks him out --, “Attack the
Sun” sounds like the slogan of a particularly ambitious super-villain. This is
cistus from mask to boots, with kinky facets of heated skin and the mineral
glint of incense for a faint whiff of sacrilege.
Concrete
by Nicolas Beaulieu for Comme des Garçons
A
rubescent, milky sandalwood set ablaze with ginger, Concrete (as in the building material) trades the traditional
powder note for the concrete dust of the Berlin Wall brought down with hammers
(but no sickles).
For more round-ups of fall fragrances, pop over to Bois de Jasmin, and Now Smell This
[i]
The book the American journalist John Reed wrote about the October Revolution
in Russia.
Image: Portrait with flacon by Alexander Rodtchenko
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