CARVEN: History & Vintages of a Chic Era

by: Elena Vosnaki

“Olivia Johnstone was a hatbox covered in green crocodile plastic that released Ma Griffe when you opened it. Dagmar, the perfume counter girl at the Wertheim Department Store, let me wet cotton balls with the sample perfumes, which I stashed in film canisters in my pockets. Inside, I’d woven a nest of taupe and black stockings, which surrounded a Carnival mask of black feathers, and a beaker that held the white ocean. On its surface floated a gumball ring, also white.
They were all here. A lunchbox decoupaged in flea market postcards of fin de siecle aristocracy was the Amelia Ramos. Inside, antique forks thrust up through a mat of black wig hair striped in white. The forks looked like hands reaching out, begging.”

Janet Finch references Carven’s classic Ma Griffe perfume in her story about dysfunctional foster care, White Oleander. The “really chic French perfume” became the referent thanks to Fitch’s actress aunt who traveled to Paris. The glamor inferred in her childhood eyes dotted the “i” when Fitch was thinking about perfume referents for her novel, where the scent signals become a powerful metaphor for the relationship between the young narrator Astrid and her female entourage. Carven Perfumes have been sitting on a perfumery milestone for the length of their long history, eclipsing in its shadow the rest of the worthwhile production. This is because couture houses that lost their footing with the rich and famous, or who changed direction for the worse. For Carven, a small and chic couture house from France, it all went downhill when distribution rights were obtained by Shulton (famous for Old Spice). The tenure proved unsuccessful commercially and the Englishman David Reiner was called to get the chestnuts off the roast, buying off Carven under the aegis of his International Classic Brands (which also owned Worth). However by the time it was 1998, Carven was again in dire need of a sponsor leaving many of its fragrances in limbo. Luckily for us, perfumephiles, the group Jacques Bogart took Carven under its wing and tended to its archives, launching some of the maligned fragrances anew.

But let’s reprise Ariadne’s thread from the start.

Just after World War II ended, Carmen de Tommaso, a French born who originally studied architecture and interior design, opened a couture house with the aid of three businessmen friends who had happened to have been war prisoners together. Ailed by her minute size, what we call ‘petite’ nowadays, de Tommaso had the idea to cater to women who also had a comparable figure. To inflect her brand with a more Parisian (rather than Andalusian) flair, as her base of operations was Paris, Carmen, like Charles Revson, substituted a letter in her name and became Mademoiselle Carven ever since.

What made for the success of this couture house, one among many starting in the mid-20th century Parisian landscape, such as Dior, Piguet, or Balmain? Simple, original ideas and the proper dose of marketing.

Profiting from her collaboration with corsetry mistress Rose Lebigeot, they invent together the “balconnet” brassiere in 1950. But it is already a year before this milestone that Jacqueline Francois sings “Les robes de chez Carven” (Carven’s gowns) to wild aplomb. Michele morgane, Leslie Caron and Edith Piaf have aided catapulting her fame into the limelight.

But celebrity endorsement, much as it has been invaluable from a commercial point of view, is merely the tip of the iceberg in what concerns the clever tactics promoted by Carven.

The issue of a signature fragrance shortly after opening the couture house was surely the one with the most cachet to this day.
 

In French Ma Griffe means both "my signature" (hence a designer's marquee is called one's griffe) and "my talon" (accordingly pictured in the perfume’s advertisements in the 1970s). So basically, Ma Griffe hints at having someone at your clutches: not exactly the prim image we have of it, now, is it? And yet the conception of Ma Griffe was from the beginning, much like Miss Dior by Christian Dior a short two years later, an affair for the young. They were also both composed by the master perfumer at Roure at the time, the great Jean Carles. The composition centers around aldehydes, gardenia, green notes, asafoetida, clary sage and citruses, orris, orange blossom, orris root, jasmine, ylang-ylang, lily-of-the-valley and rose, labdanum, sandalwood, cinnamon, musk, benzoin, oakmoss, vetiver and styrax.

Aimed at debutantes, at younger women entering the world of society, needing a graceful “signature” that would herald their presence, Ma Griffe had everything in its favor. The prickling scent of just opening green gardenia buds, thanks to the innovative ingredient styrallyl acetate, was fresh and exhilarating, while the spicy and sensuous note of styrax gave an odd persistence to the starkly “dry” effect.  This was the scent of a groomed woman, feminine yet discovering her position as she went along. Such scents were not factory workers working in the factory, nor flappers who kohled their eyes and bobbed their hair. Chypres, such as Ma Griffe, feel emancipated and detached nowadays, such is the erosion of aesthetic criteria that a decade and a half of sweet syrup has inflicted. But back then, it was just the thing for women with twin sets, a slick of lipstick on an impeccably powdered face and an appetite for the new world that opens after the bleak war years. It's perhaps a sign of its eternal style (and the wit of advertisers spinning the yarn of perfume perfectly) that even in the throes of the sexual revolution of the late 1960s and early 1970s the Carven ads run thus:
"You're liberated. You lead a woman's march for equality. You carry the biggest pacard. You wear Ma Griffe. A man comes along and carriers your placard for you. Ma Griffe apologises for unliberating the liberated woman."

Ma Griffe not only was the first fragrance to highlight styralyl acetate, it was also the first to have an impressive launch campaign when the whole of Paris was parachuted with tiny white and green packages containing miniature bottles! The green and white stripes, like awnings over a chic boutique window, on the Carven Ma Griffe bottles have become a signpost and a symbol. Such was the visual pull of green, a color identifying with the young and the hope connected to a much needed spring “renewal” that when Carven issued their Vetiver for men in 1957, the green packaging of the fragrance inaugurated a vogue for green for all vetiver fragrances, formerly considered a “brown” smell thanks to its woody odor profile.

Carven’s trio of Robe d'un Jour,Robe d'un Soir and Robe d'un Rêve (a dress for day, a dress for evening and a dress for a dream) was another brilliant marketing idea. From the three, only Rode d’un Soirsurvived till the late 20th century, a classic floral aldehydic composition that featured citrus essences (bergamot, mandarin, neroli) alongside a rich floral heart of May rose, peach, jasmine, lily, ylang ylang and orris. The sensually warm base of amber, benzoin, vanilla created a plush of yore while the woody notes of sandalwood and vetiver bring balance.

But Carven had other ideas as well: the first brand to sponsor sporting events such as yachting and horse riding races, also the first brand to offer literary awards to young writers, according to perfume writer Nigel Groom, it was on the vanguard regarding travel as well; Carven was quick to capitalize on the duty free promotions of traditional luxury items sold onboard.

The 1960s didn’t pass by without falling into with the zeitgeist. Eau Vive was another “youth aimed” fragrance, this time unisex and since reformulated in 1996 by Quest, a citrus aromatic which presented itself at razor sharpness into the new wave of young people searching for new truth; the very same who two short years later would start May of 1968 and embrace O de Lancome, with its green citrusy aroma, as the symbol of an era. In the newer Eau Neuve edition what most strikes me is the herbal core with its unrelenting aromatic character. The fennel and cilantro are unusual, even today in the climate of niche, with an almost soapy anisic feel, while the juniper and lavender nudge the scent into firmly herboraceous territory; for an edition from 1996 it feels sharp and bracing like a dry martini with two olives in a sea of aquatics.

The vintage fragrances continue for some time, especially since madame Carven is still alive today. Monsieur Carven, a floral chypre for men, was launched in 1978. This scent's counterpart, Madame de Carven, was presented a year later, in 1979 and is alongside Mystere by Rochas the "tail" of a great lineage. A "tropical laced" mossy floral with a perfume-y background, Madame Carven comes in an ugly bottle of fake-looking plastic top in a kitchy knotted style, but the juice inside amply compensates for it. A hint of coconut, a slice of the salicylates style of Fidji and the oakmoss which we connect with great classics makes an appearance that stays on memory: if the Pina Coladas that have taken the Sephora shelves hostage is giving you palpitations, you'd be better thinking about other thoughts; the coco in Madame de Carven is grown-up and minus the ubiquitous suntan lotion vibe we associate with it today. Both are discontinued but Madame de Carven and Monsieur Carven are still sought after by discerning vintage collectors. Finally in 1982 Carven presented a ladies' fragrance that was composed by Robertet perfumers. This perfume, Guirlandes, features prominent white floral notes and accords of aldehydes, sandalwood and clove. In a characteristic bottle that reprises the curvaceous caps and the simple glass moulds by verrerie Pochet et du Courval and designer Thierry de Baschmakoff reveals a diaphanous juice. My impression of it is of a romantic fragrance, French in its restraint like Molinard de Molinard, not the expected bombastic spice or oriental we would have expected from the "decade of carnage" that brought us Obsession, Poison and Giorgio.

It is interesting to note that a strange beast came out from the amalgamation of two Carven perfumes during the Reiner tenure at the helm: Madame Guirlandes is a fragrance which reprograms two of past glorious products, Madame de Carven andGuirlandes. The combination couldn't be better than each of the two separately, but it's worth sampling all the same.

Intrigue, aimed at women, was launched in 1986. The powerful floral chypre perfume became an instant sensation, but the loss of firm direction meant its demise regardless. Thankfully the brand isn't abandoned and the new blood transfusion means a rekindling of the flames.

But these now rare, with the exception of the trailblazing Ma Griffe and steadfast Vetiver, fragrances peep sometimes beneath the pile on international auction sites. There are of course others still: Variations, Chasse Guardée ....And since they're not recognized instantly by a loud reputation preceding them, like with some other perfumes, the prices have remained competitive enough to justify taking the calculated risk of purchasing some from a reputable seller.

Carmen de Tommaso, madame Carven herself, still alive at 105 years of age as of this moment, must be very proud.