The smell of snow is one of the most ethereal smells on earth. It’s very difficult to catch, being essentially frozen water and ozone, and I can’t think of many perfumes that even try. Of course, one famous house did make the attempt.
The perfume is No. 5, the house is Chanel, and the scent was possibly incarnated once or twice before, as Rallet No. 1 and earlier as La Bouquet de Catherine, both composed by Ernest Beaux when he was in the employ of Rallet, then a fashionable perfume house in Russia. Continue reading
My husband’s grandmother Nina was a pioneer. She was unfailingly chic long before Anna Wintour had been born to make the rest of us feel fat and blowsy, she was anorexic in the days before that disorder had been recognized, and she was a perfectionist long before the rest of us had developed OCD. She was also a killer raconteur, a dresser of effortless style, and briefly, a concert pianist. If you could come up with a word to sum up Nina, it probably was “impeccable”. Her perfume was Arpege, of course.
Why of course? Well, back in the day there were perfumes that smelt cheap and that smelt expensive and Arpege was one of the ones that unfailingly smelled expensive, that is, on the right person. If you’re reading perfume blogs there’s an excellent chance you already know Arpege well from one or another of its incarnations, and therefore are already acquainted, if so, disregard the description. Continue reading
There are so many perfumes that are nearly No 5, but not quite. This is what happens when you are the cool girl at your school, everyone wants to be you, and the melancholy truth is, that some variations of you may be more engaging than you are yourself. Think of all the times you have said to yourself, well No. 5 is very fine but supposing she were warmer, or more floral, or had more aldehydes, or fewer aldehydes, or incense. The list of possibilities is long.
Of the many contenders for most charming version of No5, I’ve included here five: Balenciaga’s Le Dix, Guerlain’s Liu, Robert Piquet’s Baghari, Estee Lauder’s White Linen and Mme Rochas.
Why these? Why not say, Arpege? Well, Arpege is a big enough variant to my mind to have broken free of the sister scent stigma. Arpege is her own self, and always has been, warmer, deeper and much more ambery than No 5, at its best Arpege smelled to me like a floral butterscotch, of a most unctuous and melting sort.