A classic for me

I’ve never really been a fan of Coco Mademoiselle. I got to know it by means of one of my best friends; it was the very early 00’s and I remember smelling on her CM, Narciso for Her, Addict, D&G and later on Pure and Midnight Poison. She had the skin chemistry to pull them all off and make them smell gorgeous. But while I really enjoyed the rest, CM never really clicked. Fast forward to 2020 and I smell CMI, which I find has the same annoying ‘modern Chanel’ lab made synthetic prettiness of purity that is the undercurrent of every Chanel release from 2000 onwards. But I find bits and pieces I enjoy. 2 years later and I have a 100ml edp of Coco Mademoiselle manufactured in 2006, with the now banned Lilial and Lyral. And I enjoy it quite a bit. But maybe it’s just nostalgia, as it inevitably transports me to my teenage self, late nights, parties, first crushes, my best friend of the time and carefree freedom. Coco Mademoiselle opens with the above mentioned modern Chanel smell; a synthetic feel of lab purity and whiteness with a peculiar starchy smell that inevitably recalls ‘new’ products, the smell of packaging, of industrial perfection and the scent of fragranced paper. It’s a smell I can’t stand, but, underneath it all the fragrance appears as a beam of light. The citruses are crossed with orange colored fruits, and there I can sense a minuscule bit of the original and glorious vintage Coco with its stew of peaches and prunes. The heart notes make justice to Polge’s (senior) dexterity with rose and jasmine; the man can make thousands of combinations with those two notes and all smell different and fantastic. There’s mimosa which provides a dry and powdery starchy (again) feel, some resins and some moss and quite a bit of patchouli that anchor the scent on skin and show, once again, minuscule shades of Coco. They are nothing alike, but, in the tiniest of details, Polge has hidden references to his 1984 powerhouse. In fact, the common thread and what they really share is potency; my vintage bottle has the same astounding sillage and longevity as my vintage 1984 bottle of Coco. Wearing it today, guarantees that I’ll still smell it potently 24 hours later. I’m not in love, but I like it when the crave sets in. It hits the right spot. Jacques Polge created the prototype of what we know as a modern fruitchouli, but as the original, it has quality and class. It boasts a very moderate sweetness, a lingering floralcy that smells quite authentic, and a dry woody and ambery drydown that shines with vetiver and moss and amber and soft woody notes. The vanilla and musks simply round up the scent and make it comfortable and creamy. In fact, worn today, CM feels decidedly more strong than dainty, more dry than sweet, more masculine than feminine than most (if not all) modern male fragrances. Created for women with character, it generated the same smell you find in all male oriented fragrances produced after it. The drydown of CM immediately recalls the thousand of ‘manly’ post 2000 perfumes that copied its vetiver infused woody character. And with gender aside, as always with perfume, any guy could pull it off, just like any woman can. It’s simply the idea of luxury made in a well crafted way. And that’s what sells it. Reformulations aside, which have really made it a cologne version of the original. But on some days, it’s just the right thing!