Nautiluscove
Reviews
Nautiluscove
Forest nymph turned socialite
Ahh Coromandel. The smell of an ethereal cherub who was created from the amalgamation of mosses, woods, and old leaves off the forest floor in the autumn; and who, through their beauty and charm, became an adored socialite partying in the most glamorous of places. This beautiful interplay between musty woods and glamorous ambers and vanillas is what makes this Chanel fragrance a masterpiece.
Coromandel (EDP) opens on my skin with a beautiful Chanel bend of non-descript florals (I believe these are often listed as "rose, neroli, jasmine") and aldehydes. Classic Chanel, from Bois Des Iles to No. 5, you can expect some variation of these opening notes in almost all their scents (the only exception I have found so far is the more modern masculine scents, but alas). Beautiful musty orange peels also linger around the Chanelaide, providing a freshness that seems to awaken the senses and prepare them for what is to come.
As the perfume settles on the skin, the patchouli comes front and center. The patchouli here is softened, run through a cashmere mill, so that it is tamed, plush, and supple--nothing like the scratchy, metallic patchoulis I've experienced with modern fragrances that use "Clearwood". I would allow myself to believe that the patchouli note in Coromandel is natural, and high quality. It has a slight mentholated bite (after all, patchouli was first used in the East as a bug repellant), and a mustiness that reminds me of soil tincture or petrichor--the smell of the forest floor, slightly damp.
The perfume develops at a glacial pace, but as it reaches it's dry down, the white chocolate and amber notes grow in intensity (and somehow, the sillage of Coromandel also increases), balancing out the patchouli and completing the transition from woodland-forest-nymph to high-society-darling.
Everything here is blended to perfection, so that while you can easily tell this is a fragrance driven by patchouli, white chocolate, and amber (at different levels at different times), the rest of the notes melt into each other. I do not feel the presence of vanilla, musk, orris or incense, however, I am certain I'd feel their absence.
On my skin, Coromandel has excellent longevity, moderate sillage, and strong projection for the first few hours. I would not feel overly comfortable wearing this to the office, as I think it's a bit too strong in the initial 3-4 hours. The pure parfum does temper the projection and make Coromandel much more wearable, however, in my limited testing, I found the pure parfum forgoes the beautiful citrus-patchouli stages, and jumps too quickly to the amber-white chocolate. I would urge you to test both if you can, however!
Coromandel (EDP) opens on my skin with a beautiful Chanel bend of non-descript florals (I believe these are often listed as "rose, neroli, jasmine") and aldehydes. Classic Chanel, from Bois Des Iles to No. 5, you can expect some variation of these opening notes in almost all their scents (the only exception I have found so far is the more modern masculine scents, but alas). Beautiful musty orange peels also linger around the Chanelaide, providing a freshness that seems to awaken the senses and prepare them for what is to come.
As the perfume settles on the skin, the patchouli comes front and center. The patchouli here is softened, run through a cashmere mill, so that it is tamed, plush, and supple--nothing like the scratchy, metallic patchoulis I've experienced with modern fragrances that use "Clearwood". I would allow myself to believe that the patchouli note in Coromandel is natural, and high quality. It has a slight mentholated bite (after all, patchouli was first used in the East as a bug repellant), and a mustiness that reminds me of soil tincture or petrichor--the smell of the forest floor, slightly damp.
The perfume develops at a glacial pace, but as it reaches it's dry down, the white chocolate and amber notes grow in intensity (and somehow, the sillage of Coromandel also increases), balancing out the patchouli and completing the transition from woodland-forest-nymph to high-society-darling.
Everything here is blended to perfection, so that while you can easily tell this is a fragrance driven by patchouli, white chocolate, and amber (at different levels at different times), the rest of the notes melt into each other. I do not feel the presence of vanilla, musk, orris or incense, however, I am certain I'd feel their absence.
On my skin, Coromandel has excellent longevity, moderate sillage, and strong projection for the first few hours. I would not feel overly comfortable wearing this to the office, as I think it's a bit too strong in the initial 3-4 hours. The pure parfum does temper the projection and make Coromandel much more wearable, however, in my limited testing, I found the pure parfum forgoes the beautiful citrus-patchouli stages, and jumps too quickly to the amber-white chocolate. I would urge you to test both if you can, however!
Luxury camping
Sycomore opens on the skin with a burst of green and brown vetiver, with touches of the classic Chanel soapy aldehydes (if you’ve ever smelt No. 5, you’ll recognize it immediately), and juniper berries, which add an aromatic, almost alcoholic touch (remincent of a G&T with lime). There’s a duality to Sycomore that I love, and that I don’t think any of it’s “dupes” do so well, in that it smells clean and refined, yet also slightly dank and earthy at the same time.
As it settles, a floral undercurrent flickers through the earthy vetiver, adding a more feminine touch, to the otherwise classicaly masculine notes. The florals are soft, purple, and powdery—likley violets or maybe even a touch of iris. The vetiver, however, still remains the prominent note in Sycomore, with the powder only serving to accentuate. There’s also a strong cypress note, which smells like the forests of NoCal.
If I had to summarize what Sycomore smells like, it would be like a PNW beach in late summer, on a chilly morning, with the remnants of a bonfire smoldering somewhere in the distance.
If you like green, earthy scents, and enjoy other Chanel scents, I highly recommend Sycomore. While the opening may seem overtly masculine, I think it would smell amazing on a woman, and I do think the florals temper it a bit in the drydown. Sycomore had excellent tenacity on my skin, and moderate sillage.
As it settles, a floral undercurrent flickers through the earthy vetiver, adding a more feminine touch, to the otherwise classicaly masculine notes. The florals are soft, purple, and powdery—likley violets or maybe even a touch of iris. The vetiver, however, still remains the prominent note in Sycomore, with the powder only serving to accentuate. There’s also a strong cypress note, which smells like the forests of NoCal.
If I had to summarize what Sycomore smells like, it would be like a PNW beach in late summer, on a chilly morning, with the remnants of a bonfire smoldering somewhere in the distance.
If you like green, earthy scents, and enjoy other Chanel scents, I highly recommend Sycomore. While the opening may seem overtly masculine, I think it would smell amazing on a woman, and I do think the florals temper it a bit in the drydown. Sycomore had excellent tenacity on my skin, and moderate sillage.
