Thursday, 3 September 2009

No. 46

When there's a reason to expect a perfume in the mail, and when the package smells, it's a BAD sign. Like, very bad sign.

I'm not sure how to ascertain that once-opened bottles will not leak, and now I mean those with glass stoppers, not those with screw-on tops. I suppose that sealing it with wax or at least clingy foil could do at least some job. Last week, it happened to a bottle of Chanel No. 22 so I threw all the clingy foils and ziplocks in a box and colognized (TM) them.

How to salvage a perfume that leaked: I use the method of colognization (TM); for that, you need a tightly sealable container large than the material in which perfume is soaked and some alcohol, easy to obtain in a local pharmacy. Pour alcohol on whatever is holding the perfume (the famous red silk scarf wallpaper alert! it may be, or a heap of foils or just about anything). Put in the container, close shut and leave it there. You might shake it, toss enclosed object around to bathe them in alcohol, whatever. After some days, pour into a flacon, wring textiles, press newspapers or clumps of foil, whatever. If smell lingers in whatever there was (famous red silk scarf smells of irises and musk, I think, half a year after the accident), put it between your clothes or books or something. Which is exactly the thing that happened to No. 22 and consequently to the wrapping material of No. 46.

No. 46 has been discontinued since forever but I snatched some. I had nothing better to do than brag to Helg; she went Oh, damn, the one with the torn label that I saw on [somewhere in the internetz] the other day? Tell me no, it looks like a fake, but, if you got that one, send me a sample because were it a fake, the who made it had damn cojones and a special degree of ruthlessness. I scratched my head and thought that I asked for it, that hunting old stuff I don't know is an idiotic idea somehow in general and that it'd serve me right.
A day after that mail, it arrived. The package smelled rather well, I uttered a few curses and went to buy more alcohol (1). The wrappers went to a marmalade jar and yielded a slightly dilué version which was however powerful enough to knock me off the chair if I hadn't smelled the thing before.
Or carnation.
Probably both.

It's not that grandma-style rose like Penhaligon's Elizabethan Rose, nor that sweet, slightly sickening rose of Nahema or Mahora in extrait version (2), it's warm, spicy, carnation-y and slightly reminds me of Fleur de Feu but after a while it mellows to sweet musky calmness. Something that I badly miss among Les Exclusifs.
A quick search showed next to none results, something on Perfume Intelligence, a review by Octavian at 1000perfumes and a few discussions along the lines of Wtf is Chanel No. 46.
Excellent fragrance, dear children.

We're still discussing the possible fakeness with Helg, I sent her a sample and we'll see. Should that be a fake, then the creator should apply for a job at some place like Givaudan. Because, it had cojones, special degree of ruthlessness and created a stunning perfume worth the price, even if it were Eau de Rose by Anonymous Pharmacy of Podunk.

Now, after a while, the drydown is still sweet and musky with a hint of lily of the valley and/or vetiver and it promises to last forever. Someone out there should start taking 100 litre orders.

Top notes: bergamot, orange, neroli
Middle notes: rose, lily of the valey, ylang-ylang, jasmine
Base notes: vetiver, orris, sandalwood, coumarine, vanilla, musk (3)

(1) It's not that easy to get, in fact. They sell it only in small amounts, only 60% and they look weird at people in the pharmacy. I asked a doc friend to get me the 96% thing through the secret sources, though.
(2) Mahora deserves its own story for the bottle, if for nothing else. Not to be expected anytime soon, Mahora is left behind at home II.
(3) notes after Perfume Intelligence,

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