BelAmi

It was the early 2000s. The wedding had been canceled at the last minute. The white dress remained unworn. We had been a couple since our teenage years. We had seen each other almost daily for a good 10 years. For me, it was clear that we would stay together, forever. In our mid-20s and for about a decade, we were a WE. Well, he had been staying out later for some time - work appointments. It was part of his job. He was short on money everywhere - his self-employment wasn’t going as it should, but there was me and my job. And I hadn’t started my studies because of HIM; he didn’t want to leave our hometown, and a long-distance relationship was out of the question. But my vocational training was good enough, everyone said. 14 salaries. Everything very secure, albeit a bit boring. It carried us through everyday life and annually through two shared vacations. And then? While tidying up, there were these papers on the desk. Bank statements that testified to regular cash withdrawals. Amounts that exceeded his balance. And an envelope containing handwritten notes. Love letters to a woman. His handwriting, but the letters were clearly not addressed to me. For the first time in my life, the ground trembled beneath my feet. Complete disbelief. The clarification was banal. The money was gambled away. The recipient of the letters had had enough of him and packed everything into an envelope and gave it back to him. And there lay the envelope now, on our home desk. Placed there to be found. After this discovery and his explanation, we never saw or spoke to each other again. The wedding was canceled. Friends had sensed it, as so often - yet said nothing. I left the shared apartment, the hometown, and started a new life. My life. A liberating blow (you only realize that later). And along with it, a small bottle of Woman III (1986) Eau de Toilette. Until then, I had worn perfumes that one wore back then as a young woman, Eternity Eau de Parfum, Poême Eau de Parfum, CK One Eau de Toilette. But none of that fit anymore. Too tight. Too sweet. Woman III (1986) Eau de Toilette had my back. So intense, spicy, and a bit mysterious. The distinct oakmoss note, the angularity, left no doubt that the girl days were over. The honey note still gives the fragrance something feminine. Somewhere it says that the perfume reminds one of aftershave. In the realm of women's perfumes, it may seem masculine, but I would like to politely disagree regarding aftershave. This scent is so much more. It is close and distant. It is changeable, depending on the weather. In winter, the dark green oakmoss note comes out stronger, in summer the warm-spicy honey note. With Woman III (1986) Eau de Toilette, my black clothing that I wore from that day for a long while, and occasionally red lips, I could walk upright. That was 20 years ago. The dress hung as a reminder in my wardrobe for another 20 years. I haven’t missed the man for a long time. But I deeply regret that Woman III (1986) Eau de Toilette has been discontinued.

Mitsouko has been with me for almost a decade. Sprayed in a perfumery, because even just sniffing the bottle was so wonderful. I spent a theater evening with the scent on my wrist - fine scent clouds again and again - fruity-woody-melancholic-profound and yet full of warmth. To my nose, not old-fashioned at all. Since that evening, Mitsouko has accompanied me. Around the clock, with one spray lasting a good 10 hours. It brought me the most beautiful fragrance compliments. It was one of the few scents I could wear during my pregnancy. One spritz under my sweater is enough. Mitsouko works its way through clothing. In summer, I wore the Eau de Toilette, on cooler and cold days the Eau de Parfum. Then I came across Parfumo. Since then, I have fallen in love countless times with all kinds of scents. They came and went. Only a few stayed. And even fewer made it into my private category of "heart scents." Over the last few years, all my bottles changed. Except for one. Mitsouko remained. I hadn't worn it in a long time. But giving it away, no, it was always completely clear that it would be wrong. I gave away other scents and thought, if I ever crave it again, it will be repurchased - that certainly applies to a handful of fragrances in my collection. With Mitsouko, that question never arose. When I passed by the Guerlain counter in my city and went on a scent journey with new fragrances, Mitsouko would often come up in conversation. Then the consultant would calmly say, as if it were the most normal thing in the world (she has surely been working for Guerlain for over 20 years), “once Mitsouko, always Mitsouko. Whoever loves it once will never stop liking it." And she tells me this, a Parfuma!

Recently, during this very special time, I came across my bottle of Mitsouko again. One spray on my wrist and since then I can't seem to part with it despite the spring sun. In the meantime, it has, if I followed correctly, undergone 1-2 reformulations. And my perfume heart was very curious about the new version. Today it arrived. Excited, I unpacked it. A white instead of gold box. The bottle unchanged. And the scent. Clearly Mitsouko. In the opening, a bit harsher, more masculine than my other bottle's contents. A bit more transparent, less dense, less fruity. After 2-3 hours, I can hardly tell the difference and it lasts just as long. This version also works its way through clothing and radiates its melancholic warmth. How glad I am that this wonderful scent exists. And if I had money, a lot of money, I would love to have one of those beautiful, albeit hopelessly impractical bee bottles. Or a large bottle of the Extraits. As the Guerlain consultant beautifully said, “whoever loves Mitsouko once will always love it.”

Humorless! Herbal dusty cloud iris! Extremely polished.. I read in the descriptions here. Everything is true and yet not quite. In search of an iris that doesn’t come off quite as powdery as "N°19 Poudré", which is green-transparent, not overwhelming, and a bit more herbal (in a positive sense!), I stumbled upon this fragrance. The sample lay unnoticed in the drawer for a long time. And it wouldn’t have received any attention a few months ago. All winter long, I was wrapped in warm, sweet scents. Sweeter fragrances than I have ever worn before. But now I’ve had enough of that. The current crisis demands a lot from our household with two preschool children. The inner voice says daily, multiple times, clearly and loudly, “Stay calm..!”.

I miss the uncomplicated outings into nature here in the city. Everything is currently more complicated and cumbersome. An admonishing finger is hovering over everything. No resting, reminding the children to keep their distance, etc. I craved a green-grassy scent with a hint of herbaceousness that would allow my mind clarity like the deep inhalation of sea-fresh air. Bright and cheerful like spring, yet not cuddly soft like my cottony musk excursions in the past winter months. No, I wished for a scent that is bright, radiant, and spring-fresh. And HERE IT IS!

Some here complain about longevity and sillage. The longevity for me is many hours. My close ones can certainly perceive the scent, but not like a Coco Mademoiselle, which always seems to precede me a bit, but rather like a fresh, well-groomed aura. Some may find it indeed too refined and elegant. After the green-fresh opening comes this powdery note, which some describe as lipstick. But it remains fresh and bright green in its radiance. Just as one likes on days when the world spins particularly fast inside, and one still needs to keep a clear head.

Conclusion: not a scent for everyone. But those who like the newer version of “N°19”
might also like this one.

Fragrances are meant to preserve a moment of happiness, as a well-known perfumer once revealed about his intention. If N° 18 can preserve a moment of happiness for me, then it is the memories of bright summer days at the beach, waiting for the sunset in the evening with a gin and tonic.
The scent, which visually reminds me of gin and tonic, has a beautiful opening. The ambrette seeds and a hint of something fruity create an image in my mind that shows the blue of the sea and conjures up the airy atmosphere by the sea. Something light, carefree, and decidedly adult. Then a distinct note of spirits joins in. I must have looked puzzled during the test in the Chanel boutique. The consultant, with a wink: it tickles the nose, doesn’t it? ..and upon my inquiry, she mentioned: Grappa! The sample I was given fell to the floor in my hotel a few weeks later. I wiped it up with a cloth and set it aside, but the drops emitted a distinct N° 18 note in the hotel room throughout my entire stay. It was a bright, very lovely weekend by the sea.
All of this is surely over a year ago now. Winter is currently coming to an end, which in my hometown is characterized by a lot of rain and wind, a lot of wind. I am gradually getting a bit tired of winter fragrances. That’s when the scent memory of Chanel N° 18 came back to me. I pulled out the second sample that had been given to me sometime in the last few months. And there it was - the scent, bright and clear. With each step in the winter rain, my thoughts became lighter and freer. Lightly fruity and woody, with this soothing clarity that I can hardly describe, the scent aura enveloped me for hours. And I find that quite remarkable. Despite its transparent appearance, I am very taken with this longevity over many hours and the sillage, which lightly brushes against the body, will surely touch the next person, yet is far from overpowering.
I still don’t particularly like the grappa note, but it only appears at the beginning and dissipates quite quickly on my skin.
I thank Mr. Polge. Whenever I want to conjure up bright days at the sea, air, and light in my thoughts, a hint of N° 18 is all it takes!

Here I am with my 5-year-old daughter in front of the dollhouse at her grandma's. A beautiful dollhouse. Everything handmade. Six rooms, each a gem in its own right. A dream for anyone who loves dollhouses. One of those kinds that aren't really child-friendly, because all the components are antique and precious. The table is adorned with a tiny butter dish and a dreamy little romantic cake. A chandelier (which of course also lights up). A nostalgically beautiful bedroom. Grandma is a wonderful grandma. And calm enough to let her grandchild play with her dollhouse. And my daughter is quite careful. She enjoys every visit to grandma's. Then the transparent protective wall in front of the house is removed, she fetches a stool, climbs up to play in all the rooms, and always asks for help when playing with the dollhouse. This time I had the pleasure. From the dollhouse bathroom - nostalgically beautiful with mini toothbrushes and cups, a washbasin, and an emptied Chanel N° 5 Extrait bottle (still the 7 ml) - a very pleasant scent wafted towards me. It couldn't be the empty Chanel bottle, that was clear. What kind of scent is this? It's too soft and quiet for Mon Guerlain. The lavender note is missing. I think I perceive a hint of almond alongside the slightly sweet (not sticky!) marshmallow note. Speaking in colors, a pink scent rose to my nose. Bright pink. Very rounded, without edges or corners. And yet somehow special. Nothing is poking in my nose. I looked at my daughter questioningly. She understood and held a sponge under my nose. "Grandma sprayed it!" Good. We played very happily for quite a while. One of those Sunday afternoons when it's raining outside and it can be so cozy inside. Upon saying goodbye, I was handed a sample of Princess by Kilian. She had received it during her last shopping trip at Douglas. Kilian at Douglas, I thought. Strange. A few days later, I was on a business trip in the capital. My return route crossed Friedrichstraße. I looked for Kilian in Lafayette. But Princess (I'll shorten it, the title apparently follows the book trend where book titles are getting longer...) was nowhere to be found. However, a very friendly consultant informed me. Princess was exclusively created by Kilian for Douglas. Just like the other three fragrances with those round bottles, with the spray head in the base. So I could have tested this scent in any Douglas store. On my way to the main train station, two stores crossed my path. I then boarded the train with a bottle of Princess in my bag. Admittedly, the ugliest and most impractical bottle in my collection. My little daughter was wildly delighted and fell asleep that evening saying: "Mom, I want to smell like you!" A compliment for every perfume mom. On special occasions - like Dad's birthday party - she currently celebrates with a little spritz of Princess on her wrist. I like the pink, fairy-tale scent - on Sundays when it's raining outside and everything is good inside, and we can lose ourselves in the world of dollhouses.