Mostrando postagens com marcador VINTAGE. Mostrar todas as postagens
Mostrando postagens com marcador VINTAGE. Mostrar todas as postagens

terça-feira, 17 de março de 2015

CARVEN: History & Vintages of a Chic Era


“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.

sábado, 14 de março de 2015

The Lost Crown of The Crown Perfumery


photo by Serguey Borisov
Today we will honor another rare and discontinued fragrance, Eau de Russe by the British company The Crown Perfumery. Created by William Thomson, Jr. in pre-war 1911, the cologne was restored in the late twentieth century. Soon The Crown Perfumery lost its transparent crown. Today the crowns are gold-covered and they decorate some very modern and hyperluxurious perfumes—the bottles of Clive Christian.
The history started when The Crown Perfumery company was founded in London in 1872, by William Sparks Thomson, an American-born businessman from Connecticut. He was not a perfumer but was instead a master of high-busted corsets. Sometimes his clients fainted due to the corsets being overly tightened during the fitting and the idea of ​​lavender scented salts (and then, colognes and perfumes) came as a logical extension of the business. And a son, William Thomson, Jr., with his chemistry education, brought his talents and knowledge to the family business.
The Crown was loaned to the perfume business from the corset studio; according to legend, one of Thomson's clients was Queen Victoria—therefore, Crown was adopted as his trademark. That was a great honor for the business and all its customers (there's no evidence as to whether Crown was the supplier of the royal court). In the late 19th century The Crown Perfumery exported its assortment of 47 perfumery and cosmetic items to various countries from their factory warehouses at St. Catherine's Docks. The Crown Perfumery won 20 gold medals at various trade fairs and commissioned perfume bottles made of crystal (Baccarat) and porcelain (Doulton). Nigel Groom believes that The Crown Perfumery was the first to promote the layering idea—mixing several perfumes to get a richer experience. Despite the company's successful work and worldwide fame, after the death of its founder, it was sold to the Lever Brothers (future corporation Unilever) in the 1920s, and was closed in 1939.
The Crown Perfumery revival process was started in 1985 by chemist and perfume enthusiast Barry Gibson, who managed to restore 27 original perfume formulas. In 1993 The Crown Perfumery boutique was reopened in London, but without much success, and the happiness of retro fans was short-lived. In 1999 Clive Christian, a successful manufacturer of furniture for millionaires, bought The Crown Perfumery project and opened the Crown Perfumery Haute Parfum Salon. Soon the production of Crown fragrances was discontinued and the crown-stopper and coat of arms went to the new bottles of the Clive Christian perfume house. By now The Crown Perfumery is represented only by the crown-stopper, coat of arms and historical status “Est. 1872,” with unused archives and rare unsold perfume bottles that pop-up from time to time on e-bay. I managed to buy one of them.
I should confess that the only factor for the Eau de Russe purchase was curiosity.
 After the article on “Colognes Russes” I am still strongly interested in this topic.
While I waited for the mail delivery, I learned little about Eau de Russe. The fragrance was released as a cologne in 1911, revived as eau de toilette in 1993, and discontinued in 1999. The perfume was created by William Thomson, Jr.

I believe our fathers and grandfathers would love Eau de Russe, because the cologne seems to have been designed specifically for sponging-down and washing. Bright sour lemon and bergamot and lavender so resinous that it reminds me of rosemary together form the astringent cologne freshness which cools and burns the face and neck after shaving. Then some lemon drops herald the imminent coming of Her Sweetness and it will not be slow in coming: the citruses fade pretty quickly, as they have no aldehydes for support (the historical reconstruction is perfect!). First we can smell the gradual sweetness of heliotropine's entry contrasted with the green lavender remnants. It smells like an interesting and exciting little-known prequel to the popular Caron Pour un Homme.
Half an hour later no one will remember the lemons: the sweet almond marzipan of heliotropine, heaps of powdery musk, coumarin and transparent amber together form the soft oriental fougère base. There's no birch tar or other Russian leather substitutes. There's no olibanum, myrrh, frankincense or any other church incense mixtures to burn. It's another part of Russia in the basenotes—with barbers and barber shops, with star-filled puddles in the middle of the capitals and villages, with ranks and titles. And the base is so modest that the word “sillage” seems an exaggeration. A mild cologne for a well-educated man (before the Revolution). And the base is not exclusive or very rare—you can smell it in all its glory in several vintages, from Coty L'Origan and Guerlain L'Heure Bleue to Jean Patou Moment Supreme. I am pretty sure these are just the famous fragrances—for sure there were many others.

Seems to me, Eau de Russe by The Crown Perfumery is a male cologne—a Guerlain L`Heure Bleue Pour Homme, if there were such a cologne devoted to London twilight, not Parisian. It perfectly fits the concept of “Russian cologne,” a traditional Kölnisch Wasser with a barely audible whisper of warm amber base.
The cologne is out of this time, and not for modern people. It's for mustachioed men pictured in black and white retouched photographs, sitting and standing, wearing uniforms and starched smiles. It is impossible to be sad for a bygone era which we know from books only—we were not alive then. But nostalgia still is here, because everyone has left something of their own in the past: friends and loved ones, young parents who were strong and beautiful, youthful confidence that our whole lives are ahead of us, bright and happy. And the hope that we will be crowned ones in the future. Sorry, not all of us will be kings and queens.
Notes: Bergamot, Cedrat, Lavender, Heliotrope, Coumarin, Musk, Amber.