Coco Noir

by Chanel, 2012, so-so

Spicier than the original Coco, it’s really trying for that “noir”. But if Chanel is really serious with this flanker, really putting some money behind this spinoff, why is the scent so much less than the original Coco?

The original Coco has some serious punch behind it, a languid, heavy, rich oriental fragrance. Coco smells of heavyweight satin, a stiff leather handbag, old-fashioned cosmetics, and a tiny bit of the pushing-middle-age woman wearing it. It’s the back room of a classy venue somewhere in the late ’70s, when a little muskiness with your luxury was expected required.


Coco Noir is going for that, but with added mysterieux. It’s trying for a more sophisticated aura, less frank sex. It ends up taking the original Coco, lightening and streamlining it to a suggestion, then adding a gentle spiciness while amping up the fruitiness slightly. It complies with modern Light ‘N Sheer requirements, and the impossible to omit tutti-frutti, but somehow retains the original Coco in there somewhere, if only as a transparent haunt. Even Coco Mademoiselle, with the full-bore melon/fruit/aqua trendy treatment has more guts and chuzpah in its French-manicured pinky finger than Coco Noir has in its whole bottle.

So it comes to this: Coco is a full-throated disco diva, Coco Noir is a young “Goth-lite” pop star. Not bad, but no soul.

p.s. And Coco Mademoiselle? It’s the privileged prep-school achiever who’s just this side of being the Mean Girl.

Coco Noir spritzed on myself in passing in the mall. Coco was a carded sample rediscovered in the detritus of my old teenage room at my dad’s, I don’t know when/where I got it. Coco Mademoiselle carded

Neroli Portofino & 4711 & Cologne: Separated at Birth

by Tom Ford, Maurer & Wirtz, and Thierry Mugler; 2007, 1792, & 2001;
so-so, good, good

More fraternal siblings, this time fraternal triplets. Again, close, but not identical, all have the fresh summer-lemon body, and what they do with it later is where the difference lies, and Tom Ford ought to be ashamed of himself!
Sure, he was innovative with his earlier scents: Black Orchid was exquisite, For Men was unpleasant (for me, it smelling like replicant ladyparts and all) but very unique, then he did retro very well with Violet Blonde, but Neroli Portofino? Come ON! Pretty much ripping off Thierry Mugler’s Cologne wholesale, right down to the slightly downmarket public-restroom-soap note, which it quickly backs away from, and instead dives headfirst towards the very plastic smelling 4711 fake citrus center notes. It’s still classy, and lovely, but generic and a really a copycat of its older brothers.

Now, 4711 has had a lot of work done over the years, and the stretched skin on his smooth, lemony face is sure flawless, but obvious. He still swans around Europe, respected by the ladies, still occasionally emulated by very young men, but no longer an icon. Cologne showed up and got the party started again, being just louche enough for interest, but not enough to be offensive. Now Neroli is trying to hit the scene, and has followed Cologne’s style to the letter, but didn’t forget 4711′s original key attractions, but still couldn’t pull it off. Neroli imitated the right swank from his brothers, but forgot to become his own individual on the way to the party.

Neroli Portofino sample arrived unasked-for in the mail from Neiman-Marcus. Large bottle of 4711 bought from a bridal discounter. Cologne sample bought from the now-defunct ReiRien.

Gorilla Perfumes

by LUSH, 2011

Hippie-ish mostly natural scents. This collection is a cross section of the scents LUSH uses in all their other products. Taken together, the entire collection reeks of one of their stores, you can smell it a mile away and instantly identify it as “LUSH outlet”. Calling these the Gorilla perfumes is a bit of a hint that these things are STRONG. Use tiny amounts.

Imogen Rose

A dirty rose essence. Like all their scents, if the ingredient is natural, it's “dirty”, that is, it hasn't been significantly refined or stratified extensively. Therefore, they have all their components, even the less than pure scent ones. This is a very earthy, salty rose scent. Like the other scents, it's reminiscent of a bath bomb, just one of the rosier ones. The baking soda/salty aspect adds to this effect. It wears down to a more heavy, earthy base, and the vetiver comes out with a leftover soft sweetness. In the end it becomes a swampy rose scent. Strangely heavy for something named after the company founder's infant daughter. Works better on men.

The Smell Of Freedom

The smell of citronella candle, to begin with, then a dose of the mimosa absolute they use in so many of their products. Has an uplifting undercurrent of jasmine & iris. Reading the ingredients, I see it also has sandalwood, but it's pretty hard to find under everything else. Not reminiscent of freedom, particularly, it weighs you way down, man.

Orange Blossom

Much like Imogen Rose, this has its main floral scent paired with a salty/baking soda-ish base. Unlike Imogen Rose, the main floral scent eventually breaks free and becomes itself, but not before spending a few hours in petitgrain/neroli astringency, that just about chokes you before it passes. If you endure it, this fades and you are treated to a kaleidoscopic whirl through mimosa, jasmine, iris, sandalwood, each paired with the orange blossom scent until the whole thing wears off... in about 20 hours. Again, pretty good on a guy, too.

Breath Of God

Only if god eats pine needles and cedar bark, and gargles with original Old Spice. Your standard issue old fashioned aftershave scent, all natural.

Tuca Tuca

LUSH makes much of this being inspired by an Italian pop song. I can see why, “fruit punch & violet extract” doesn't seem as inspirational. Overall, it's the closest analog to the store experience in a nutshell. A very musky, fruity, sweet, earthy nutshell. It's a real bodice-ripper.

Lust

If you're familiar with Godiva and Flying Fox, you've smelled Lust. It's their signature jasmine scent. And is it ever luuurrrvvely! OK, a brief renaming is in order: Tuca Tuca should be named Lust, and Breath of God should be this perfume. Crazy strong, of course, and is lacking the mellowing of the honey in Flying Fox, but if I'm a complete sucker for anything, it's a good whole jasmine!

Karma

Their bestselling scent, and in many of their products (for once, all of them named Karma). Why, I don't know. It's a greeny-orange scent that smells more of a public restroom cleaning agent than anything I'd want to wear for fun. Fairly bland and surpringly lacks any development at all. Big yawn.

Vanillary

As named, it's their vanilla scent. Very foody, has a heavy cake element, if you like your cake with a musky orange base. It's so overwhelming for about the first 45 minutes I thought my nostrils were being scoured with vanilla-scented tub scrub (more of that baking soda element), then it wore & settled into the soft, fuzzy, cakey, orangey, incredibly thick vanilla cloud. It's a very thick, soft, wool sweater; it's a perfect winter scent. I now own it in 3 versions, so I think I like it!