Estherica

..when I was still small.
Cabochard is an early point in my fragrance biography.
My mother used it; she had that little bottle with the velvet ribbon, and I found pictures of it here. Yes, I still vividly remember that this little bottle stood on her writing desk, even though her other perfumes were on the dresser in the bedroom. I don't know how old I was, maybe 5 or 6, but even then I was curious about scents. I knew Mom only used it rarely; she was always frugal. She often saved her perfumes for special occasions. Well, one day I couldn't resist and wanted to smell the bottle again. In the process, it tipped over and some spilled out; I must have been clumsy or excited. Oh dear, I was afraid she would scold me - that good perfume. A saving idea came to me: I needed another liquid of a similar color, and then maybe it wouldn't be noticeable that something was missing. Quickly, a few drops of dish soap....
Of course, everything came out; the room smelled of the perfume anyway, which I unfortunately only vaguely remember as herb-green, leathery chypre in the direction of Bandit.
Here I want to refresh the fragrance memory once more!

By the way, my mother didn't scold me, and she later bought me my own perfumes. But those are other stories.

...but the world is not ready yet. Nonsense, I am not ready, or rather, to put it briefly, a good idea that loses its charm when diluted with Iso-E-super.
The notes sound so good, green, woody, and a conifer note in the heart! My thanks again to the donor of the sample, OJ Woman had been on my testing list for a while.
It starts with a green, herbal note, slightly medicinal, which briefly reminds me of Epic Woman. Then a wonderful pine scent appears, accompanied by sweet jasmine, and I think, hmmm, this is going to be really good. And then... it wafts towards me from my arm. I don't want to admit it, but Iso-E-super is coming at me.
I confess that I initially found the molecule scent interesting, on myself and on others, but by the third time it was just boring. It has no depth and is one-dimensional; the most interesting thing is that it comes and goes and has this wafting quality. And I belong to the people who can perceive it clearly. Molecule smells woody-green fresh on me. And so it is here with Ormond Jayne Woman. The beautiful pine scent is completely overshadowed by the Iso-wavering, has little chance of coming through, and it starts to get on my nerves.
I strongly suspect that Geza Schön was also involved here, as he works for Linda Pilkington. And he tends to have a loose hand with Iso...
Hmmm, it could have been so beautiful. Could have, could have. Bicycle chain.

But yes, I mean the headline very seriously and was also surprised that it developed this way.
The top notes are spicy, herb-fresh, and promising. A fresh breeze.
So far, so good. After a maximum of an hour, a scent remains on my skin that is pleasantly soft, warm, with an aquatic touch. And just like that (I swear), my skin smells after a shower with a shower gel called "Meeresrauschen," some limited edition I got this summer. Of course, the shower gel doesn’t have a scent progression and the fragrance doesn’t linger on the skin for long, yet I was surprised by the scent twin.
And there’s another twin: Corallo by Profumi di Pantelleria smells almost identical in the base. I compared the two side by side again because I thought I had picked up the wrong sample. The difference with Corallo is that it starts much more citrusy in the top notes.
If the fresh breeze lasted a bit longer, Finisterre would perform better for me. I wish it wouldn’t fade into the banal so quickly and would present a few darker and sweeter notes (oak moss, algae, jasmine?) in the base.
Nevertheless, it has something, and if it weren't for the shower gel association... who knows, maybe a mini would move in with me. That spot would then be taken by Sideris, which I have liked the most from the MCG so far.

..I unfortunately have to give here.

The scent does convince me, it is a light and delicate gardenia fragrance.
The way the galbanum is used in the top note I find innovative and successful. It is subtle and creates a bit of freshness, so that I imagine a bud just blooming.
As it develops, a creamy gardenia comes in, but that's about it.

After an hour, the scent is no longer perceivable. I find that unacceptable for the price. It should be in a slightly stronger concentration, and the sillage would be better then. I tested it three times and even applied more the third time, but only from a sample to dab. Maybe it is a bit stronger when sprayed, but that’s not enough.

Scent: successful, also fits the title or the inspiration

Longevity: not worth mentioning, my body oil lasts longer

I apologize in advance that this will not be a "proper" comment and that I will digress a bit. I also cannot give a percentage rating, as the fragrance I know as Coco no longer exists. Coco, l'esprit de Chanel, is dead.

Coco holds a special meaning for me; it was the first perfume I bought for myself with my first earned money. I distributed the weekly advertising flyer of a supermarket, together with a friend who also wanted to earn some pocket money, in our small town in Westphalia.
And why Coco? What made it so special? At that time, I was about 15 or 16 years old and had already received a few perfumes as gifts that I liked to wear. I was already generously dousing myself with Narcisse when going to school... But that's another story.

Coco was different; Coco was a perfume that my mother probably wouldn't have gifted me because it was too grown-up. And that was exactly what I wanted to be at that time, or at least feel that way. Coco was grown-up and not only that, Coco was free and had fun with it. She was daring, charming, bold, and unpredictable. And yet she was warm-hearted.
The scent embodied this for me, it was like an initiation into an adult life that I couldn't quite imagine yet, that seemed like a dream. And it had that magic of the yet-to-be-experienced, where everything is possible or even impossible. The scent was different from my previous, more floral fragrances. It was strong and unmistakable, spicy and warm, it was alive, made of flesh and blood, with edges and corners.
I also remember exactly how I wore it on special occasions. I recall one event where I really dressed up. A black mini dress, black pumps, a Chanel imitation handbag, fiery red lipstick, and then Coco. It gave me the courage to step into the world, shy as I was. And then I experienced what it was like to attract the gazes of others, fascinating and also unsettling.

And I confess that at that time, Coco's marketing enchanted me even before the fragrance could. But it was Vanessa Paradis in a cage on a swing, trilling, dressed in black and spilling Coco. This 30-second film has a lot to it. I just watched it again and could feel the magic it had on me back then. This spot manages to stimulate one's own imagination. It doesn't tell a precise story; it gives me space and just an idea that I can unfold myself.
It’s quite interesting to compare it to the spot for Coco Mademoiselle that was released about 15 years later. The spot is 3:21 long, and you see Keira Knightley looking stunning and chic racing on a motorcycle, heading to a photoshoot, wrapping the photographer around her finger, and then leaving him hanging before he can kiss her. Accompanying this is the wonderful "This is a man's world" carried by Joss Stone's velvet voice. The film is beautiful to watch but gets a bit boring and is also somewhat irritating. The magic is gone. Here, I don't need any imagination; it describes exactly how Coco Mademoiselle is supposed to be and look. Of course, both films have nothing to do with reality, yet they are both meant to encourage the purchase of a perfume and target young women who want to invent and discover their personalities. I am glad that for me it was Coco; Mademoiselle is too superficial and vain and takes away my own ideas.

And Coco today? I wanted to meet her again, wanted to be touched by her magic once more. But what has happened to her?
The Coco I encounter now is no longer mine. The scent has changed to the point of being unrecognizable, it is just a shadow, a hint of Coco, and that is so little that I would rather leave it altogether. Coco, she no longer exists. Upon the first spray, I can hardly recognize Coco; what comes towards me smells like cherry cough drops. And somehow the entire composition feels flat and lifeless; either my memory deceives me or it has indeed been reformulated to death. Either way, it means for me for now:

Coco, l'esprit de chanel est mort.