The Fresh Scents of the 1970s Part 5: Chanel Cristalle

by: Elena Vosnaki

To consider Cristalle by Chanel a predominantly "fresh" scent begs the question: which version of it? Contrary to some of the previous fresh scents that dominated the 1970s and which we have reviewed in previous installments (links are at the bottom of this article), Cristalle has circulated in two distinct variations that differ considerably.

 

Although only one of them is set in the 1970s, namely the eau de toilette original version, the 1990s eau de parfum edition is also popular and perhaps blurs the lines most between simple freshness and ripe enigma; if the citrus burst of the eau detoilette is a sunny but still crisp morning, then the more floral chypre leaning of the eau de parfum is late afternoon when the warmth of the sun has made everything ripen and smell moist and earthy.

 

 

But the two faces of Janus have more angles to exhibit still. The structure of the eau de toilette is citrusy green, almost cologne-y, with only a hint of chypre; more jovial, more unisex and altogether happier.  Indeed early ads claimed:
 

 

 

Now. A fragrance with the freedom of cologne, the force of perfume.

Never before have you been able to change yourself with such fragrant energy. 

 

Cristalle. A brilliant burst of new fragrance by Chanel.
 

 

The structure of the eau de parfum is more feminine, with the floral offset of jasmine and ylang ylang bringing to the fore the more romantic elements. If the former is a brainy librarian, the latter is a brainy librarian with one button undone on her blouse. As you would surmise from my description, I like and respect both but would personally find more cause for celebration in the latter.

 

This is perhaps a unique point of view in the perfume loving community where original editions are without fail considered superior and more sophisticated; no writer's doubt, the review practically writes itself. Still, and it is a point worth considering, Cristalle is a case in point where the genius of Henri Robert is fittingly corralled to that of Jacques Polge, the two perfumers responsible for the creation of the former and the latter editions respectively. But why is that to begin with?

 

The 1990s have gained an odd reputation in perfume lovers' minds because they mostly contributed the mega (try Godzilla) trend of the "ozonic" and "marine" fragrances, scents cutting loose with the denser and richer French and American tradition and ushering a sense of Japanese zen into personal fragrance. At the time they produced a huge chasm with everything that preceded them (and fittingly one of the first to do so was Kenzo pour Homme in 1991).

Suddenly one wearing such a quiet scent seemed like someone walking in velvet slippers contrasted with a Louboutin stiletto wearer, emitting Dior Poison, marking some poor 18th century parquet floor; you instantly knew who was going to get more sympathetic smiles and friendly nods of the head and who was to be greeted with wrinkled noses. Such were the mores then; we have become loud with our scent choices again of course. But the overindulgence in quiet can become deafening in the end and this is what happened by the end of that grunge-dominated decade. StillChanel Cristalle eau de parfum managed to straddle the ground between quiet and loud, producing a composition between soft flannel wool and luxurious yet rough soie sauvage which was advertised with the immortal line: "Exuberance comes of age!" Let there be no more claims that this version is unsophisticated.

 

Another interesting nugget is that Cristalle, especially in the eau de parfum edition, has that infamous overripe melon and stale meat note, common in Diorella and Eau de Rochas, two other great fresh scents of the 1970s, which had prompted Tania Sanchez to write that Diorella is like Vietnamese beef salad and Luca Turin to reference the garbage-leaning note in both Le Parfum de Therese and Eau de Rochas(both featuring the same on-the-verge-of-unpleasant effect). Considering that from all the 1970s scents Cristalle is the one closest to Diorella, yet lacks that overripe note (so beloved by perfumer Edmond Roudnitska) in its eau de toilette concentration, it makes for a puzzling consideration indeed.

 

 

Despite lacking that characteristic rotten fruit & garbage tang which can act like a faulty brushstroke put on purpose in an otherwise exquisite painting, Cristalle eau de toilette has endured and has gained new fans over the decades exactly because it is a triumph of mind over matter. It feels tinglingly fresh, yes; it feels brainy and perfect for sharing whether you are a man or a woman. It also fits its architectural packaging to a T, perhaps more than any other perfume in the Chanel stable. It feels sleek and sparse and 100% proud of it. It also means that when you opt for it you know you're picking the freshest thing in the shop; there is nary a fresher scent on the Chanel counter now or ever. Only the galbanum throat-slicing-blade of the original No.19 could be compared for sheer chill! 

 

In my perfume consulting, I sometimes hear  people reject the citrus scents as either cologne-y (which is not entirely false, they do share DNA with that) or as not in step with contemporary sensibilities. To the latter segment I will end my essay with anecdotal evidence.

 

When I had interviewed Linda Pilkington of Ormonde Jayne fame she had confided to me that she loved Cristalle (she also mentioned she used to layer Eau Sauvage withDiorella, which probably makes a throw together impression of Cristalle at least according to my tentative experiments back home). Such is her love apparently for it that one of her very own brainchildren, the wonderful Tiare, shows its kinship with Cristalle in no uncertain terms; in fact almost an improvement on it, if that sort of thing were possible. Nothing but the name would throw you off; tiare is a tropical gardenia essence coming from the Tahitian gardenia, but Tiare by Ormonde Jayne feels like the niche version of Cristalle you had been hoping would never get messed up with. It's one testament to the eternal appeal of this classic Chanel fragrance.

 

 

If you missed them, the previous parts can be found on these links:

 

The Fresh Scents of the 1970s