I've found the right time to wear these: When I'm grumpy or stressed or expecting a bad day. See, I don't want to wear my favorites at those times, and weigh them down with negative associations. And I don't want to wear no perfume, because any perfume I don't hate is still better than no perfume. And it's not as if I hate those perfumes, I just don't love them. So if I learn to hate them, so be it. If I learn to love them, spiffy.
So today I wore Coco. I've mentioned that my main issue with it seems to be association with someone that I can't remember but apparently didn't like. I'm guessing that enough wearings will wipe that out. The other issue is that tiny tiny bit of fruitiness that I get behind the spices. The fruit that offends me isn't orange--I see that in notes lists, but I don't smell it, and it wouldn't bother me. At least one review mentions peach, and I think that's it. I like peach, but for me all of Coco's other notes belong to winter--oranges are a winter fruit to me--and that bit of fresh stone fruit clashes with them.
I suspect that I'd like Coco better if I'd never smelled Coco Mademoiselle. Just the sight of the Coco Mademoiselle bottle, with all that pink juice in it, makes me recoil. I can smell the pink in the perfume as well. And there's just enough Coco in Coco Mademoiselle to reverse-contaminate the parent in my memory's nose--when I smell Coco I get a memory of the pink. But I'll keep wearing it now and then; I'm confident that I'll grow fond of it in time.
I wore No. 5 the other day, pure parfum from that set of tiny (1/8 oz?) bottles that Chanel comes out with at Christmas, one I bought about five years ago. That was more successful; I like the otherworldly, don't-mess-with-me mood of No. 5. I can't pick out a single real-world note; I know that there are flowers in there, but they don't present themselves as flowers. It is, in fact, weird--the likely most famous perfume in the world is weird. I like that.
Image: By David Scelfo. Wikimedia Commons.
You're right! Ch5 IS weird.
ReplyDeleteI like Coco Mademoiselle. I don't adore it, but it smells femmey and sharp at the same time.
ReplyDeleteHave you tried Chanel No. 5 Eau Premiere?
I like Coco Mademoiselle. I don't adore it, but it smells good: femmey and sharp at the same time.
ReplyDeleteHave you tried Chanel No. 5 Eau Premiere?
Hey, Olfacta! Yes! This is proof that perfumery is _supposed_ to be weird!
ReplyDeleteOK, maybe not, but I'll interpret it that way anyway.
Yo, Joan! I wish I liked Coco Mademoiselle, but I just can't.
ReplyDeleteNo, I keep meaning to try Eau Premiere, and I keep forgetting. The next time I'm in a department store with a decent perfume department, I really need to remember.
Hey, where'd you get a pic of my cat. That's Payton! She was (RIP) a Havana Brown. A gorgeous creature.
ReplyDeleteI loved the notion of Coco Mlle "reverse contaminating" its parent - brilliant! And a most plausible theory. Mrs Bonkers Snr wears this one (thanks to my introduction) and it feels a bit heavy and dated on me, but I do quite like it. I guess I find the Opium flankers Fleur de Shanghai and Poesie de Chine (in similar vein), lighter and more "me".
ReplyDeleteHey, Abigail! That cat picture came from Wikimedia Commons; isn't she beautiful?
ReplyDeleteYo, Vanessa! I was a tiny bit afraid that No. 19 Poudre might contaminate its parent in the same way, but luckily it (1) wasn't horrible, (2) wasn't pink, and (3) I love No. 19 so much that it's probably not possible to destroy it in my mind.
ReplyDeleteHmm. I should try those flankers.