Beige Chanel 2008 Eau de Toilette

I stood at the Chanel Desk and found Beige to be boringly floral, almost an "everyday scent." Next to it were 31 Rue Cambon and Coromandel, as well as Sycomore, and against these fragrances, Beige seemed flat. A spritz on my thumb, I didn't want to give Beige any more space. The surprise came much later when I began to perceive a soft, creamy delicacy that I really liked: a lightly floral honey has something very intimate about it, almost a bit like the scent of clean, well-groomed skin. I wanted to test it further!

Beige moved in as a 10ml sample, but it just didn't work out. The new "roommate" somehow felt suspicious to me. It was as if I were standing in front of a refined woman and had the feeling that she could be a real beast and have the connections to turn your fate from good to bad, without any evidence, because apart from a slight smile, she showed no expression. She is always nice.

Sometimes Beige was too present for me; the soapiness in the top notes screamed "Chanel!" and it just wouldn't yield to the beautiful honey note that I hoped for every time;
On other days, there was hardly anything to notice about Beige, longevity and sillage were minimal, the scent lingered like a ghost in the rooms;
Most of the time, however, I struggled with the fact that Beige had a different style and came across as incredibly floral: warm, almost exotic flowers. Instead of a beach feeling, I always had the impression that I wasn't doing justice to this fine, clean sea of blossoms. As if I had to constantly pay attention to sit a bit straighter and express myself more nicely.

I gave up, Beige moved out of my four walls, and we went our separate ways.

The occasion for this comment was three new Beige samples that a friendly Chanel saleswoman recently gave me.
I approached the scent quite carelessly, knowing what to expect and how I would probably react again ("The scent is interesting, but not for you, because too clean, too fine, too floral, too beige, too business, too clear Chanel, too unstable and somehow annoyingly nice despite or precisely because of my inexplicable distrust.")
A spritz... what was THAT?! Everything mentioned above was there, all impressions, all notes, but something else mixed into the picture: a slightly musty tone, spicy-salty, an unpleasant grimace. Beige had twisted its expression, and I recoiled. Only about 20 minutes later did the old Beige reemerge, still unfitting for me.

These last three samples somehow left a disturbing impression: Beige previously evoked distrust, now the scent repels me and exudes something that makes me shudder. I have only smelled a similar note in Dans tes Bras by Frederic Malle, but there the scent is clearly declared as a mushroom paradox and not hidden under a blonde Chanel wig with a floral dress!

I don't know if the scent has changed, or if Beige is giving me a backhand for not appreciating her so highly praised noble beauty. The scent is definitely worth a test and could be a great companion for one or another person. Maybe I'm just paranoid. But Beige and I will no longer be roommates and friends in this life. I will avoid her from today on.