1957 Eau de Parfum

I’ve not worn fragrances regularly since I was in my mid-20’s. A decade+, a divorce and a few relationships later, as a 40 year old man, I found my signature scent while shopping for a bottle for my current girlfriend. I wanted to get her a fragrance that’s a daily wearable that represents the qualities I see in her. Shopping for an entire afternoon, sampling fragrances from Dior, Issey Miyake, etc... there was just something about the Chanel fragrances that sparked my curiosity so much that I revisited the boutique 3 times that day. I sniffed the papers that I had from the various boutiques slowly throughout several hours, letting the heart notes appear and there’s something about the Chanel ones that just spoke to me. My stance on perfumes (and fashion?) in general is that it should accentuate, but not speak louder than who I am. I find it uncouth for a perfume to announce my presence before I get to speak. Perfumes (and clothes) are primarily for oneself than for impressing others. Men and women who served in a uniform before can attest - there’s something about being in a military or police uniform that changes how you feel about yourself. A Buddhist monk when gone forth into that spiritual path is said to be taking up the robes - it’s a powerful daily reminder to oneself about the commitment undertaken when one puts on those robes. And that’s my stance towards perfumes too - it changes how one feels, a mood altering substance if you will. Chanel 1957 exemplifies this idea for me, of wearing a fragrance primarily to celebrate one’s humanity, but with a touch of undeniable, understated class. So I stepped back into the Chanel boutique for the 3rd time, asking for a final try of the few perfumes I narrowed down to. And once I got a whiff of 1957 again, I knew. I knew this is the one to get... but for whom? I realized, if there’s someone that I “owe” a gift to... it’s me. I’ve not had a new bottle of perfume for myself for so, so long, and I owe it to myself to celebrate this new chapter in life. So rather than gift this bottle of Chanel 1957 to her, I decided to give it to myself, and get her a different perfume another day. For today, today I celebrate me. 1957’s top notes are an immediate mood lifter, just what one needs in the morning after a shower to start your day. Reminiscent of how I used to put powder on my infant son 10 years ago after his bath, but with unmistakable complexity and sparkle of the right amount of citrus. 1957’s heart... for lack of a better summary is expensive laundry detergent, in the best possible way. Does expensive laundry detergent exist? If it does it’s unknown to me. 1957 captures this feeling of understated luxury. That you know your worth, there’s no need to brag to anyone. Nobody to prove yourself to anymore, been there, done that. I’m celebrating life by spending extra on the best laundry detergent that money can buy and nobody can stop me. That’s what Chanel bottled up. 1957 lasts and lasts as an intimate skin scent. I’ve gotten as long as 16 hours on me so far. It doesn’t get funky or nausea inducing. It wears into this sweet, comfortable scarf or sweater made of fine fabric that only you and those closest to you can witness. It feels like coming back to a warm home. Chanel 1957 to me is the scent of someone who has lived life and with that experience, developed a certain taste for the world. Done with chasing, accepting what comes instead. Inviting. Not needing to impress or announce. Quietly, confidently celebrating.

1957 by Chanel from the Les Exclusifs line smells to me exactly like the 1950’s. You can bet your bottom dollar that I know what that smell is all about. It is soapy, clean and upstanding in it’s sparkling Madison Avenue glitz. For years I have expounded my theory that the smell of Palmolive dish shop was copied from No.5 in order to make it more appealing to the American housewives of the Suburban sprawl. I grew up in Los Angeles of the 1950’s and 60’s and Chanel was the aspirational brand then just as it is now. But back then that aspiration was pure and clean and dreamy. Not as it is today when many of us aspire to Chanel for all the wrong reasons. In the fifth decade of the twentieth century soaps and hairsprays smelled of the influence of Chanel in America. It was as if the thought of Paris glamour could be found with in the bubbles that floated up from the kitchen sink after dinner. My mother in fact sewed her Chanel black and white suit from a MacCall’s pattern. No. 5 is locked into my scent memory as the fragrance of not only my mother, but my aunt and my grandmother too. They lived for Chanel. In 1957 Chanel opened it's doors to it's new boutique in New York, that year one of the biggest movies in theaters was Funny Face, set in Paris with the glorious Audrey Hepburn. Paris was on our minds that year in the most wonderful, marvelous way. 1957 pops from soapy bubbles as it opens in its aldehydic and musky glory. With a sprinkle of warm pink pepper like the pepper corns from the huge old sunburnt pepper trees of my Southern California childhood it is bright, clean and arrestingly comforting. Orange blossoms from my youth in the Inland Empire waft across the middle of the fragrance with hints of Jasmine and honey. A very thin hint of honey like one would get from a fresh warm piece of toast with a thin layer of honey slathered over it on a Saturday morning in Summer. Olfactory tendrils of jasmine drift in and out in a summery shimmery dance. And the musk goes on and on throughout the mid-notes into the dry down. Here in the last phases of the eau de perfume there is a dry powder supplied by a delicious orris root. That floats in the air just like fresh flour when a baker is making croissants. It mixes well with the white musk, a scrubbed clean cashmiran and a dry woody cedar. Some have said that 1957 from Chanel, like the perception of the decade of the 50’s is boring. It is a melding of the American fascination of the French elegance of the fifties and the need make something as mundane as doing the dishes glamorous. Like all those commercials of my childhood where the housewife is dressed in her best imitation pearls while she scrubs that greasy pan in a bubbling fresh sink that smells exactly like Paris in springtime. The Paris born of the imagination, of Hollywood and of her dreams.

The smell of a freshly showered body wearing warm, freshly cleaned clothes. Opens up with that classic Chanel assortment of clean aldehydes mixed with a clean yet intoxicating mixture of bergamot and orange blossom with a slight twinge of spicy/green coriander. Almost immediately after this blast that resembles a fresh bar of soap, the explosion of clean white musk and cashmeran take over the scent, cocooning the rest of the scent and the wearer in a visually imperceptible bundle of freshly cleaned clothes. As it dries down even more powdery, a slightly waxy orris comes out to support the fuzzy, clean white musk to add more dimension. Typically, "clean" scents fall into one of 3 real categories: 1) Obnoxiously soapy, shower gel-y, or aldehydic; a category extremely oversaturated since "Blu De Chanel" introduced the blue fragrance. 2) Overly citric and cologne-esque, bearing resemblance to scents from yesteryear like "CK One" or either "L'Eau D'Issey"/"L'Eau D'Iseey Pour Homme" 3) The classic citrus/white flower combo, attempting to recreate the feeling of cleanliness and freshly laundered linens like "Neroli Portofino", "Jake's House", or the new "MYSLF" This, on the other hand, takes bits, pieces, and clear inspiration from all 3 of these categories, mixes them all, puts the classic Chanel DNA to it, and then drops a metric ton of white musks all over it. This is a breath of fresh air in the "clean" fragrance category and is a must-try if looking for something clean, chic, and easy to wear in any place and at any time. Overpriced for what it is? Sure, but what fragrance from a designer's private collection isn't? It works great in any season, weather, and occasion during the day, and would make for a lovely signature work scent. A surprising compliment magnet. Tied for my favorite from Chanel with Boy. Very good longevity of 8-9 hours with arms-length projection for the first 3-4 hours. 9.8/10. Signature Scent Worthy. Song vibe - 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton TLDR - A great, clean, musky, and chic perfume that is a breath of fresh air in the oversaturated category that is the "clean/business" perfume. A wonderful choice for perfume enthusiasts who want something clean and easy to wear for environments that might not be scent-friendly, but something still with nuance and class like no other. A must-try and must-have for clean fragrance lovers.

I was stuck at London St Pancras for an hour today so spent my time in the Chanel shop trying every single one of the Les Exclusifs range. There were some absolutely wonderful scents, but this one grabbed me so it's the one that came home with me. It opens with a strong blast of aldehydes, along with clear notes of bergamot, pink pepper, coriander, white musk, orris root, honey, and vanilla. This creates an opening that is simultaneously ethereal (the aldehydes), fresh (the bergamot), sweet (honey/vanilla), a little perky (pepper), and creamy (the orris root). If you aren't picking out notes, the overall effect I would call angelic - fluffy, creamy clouds, fizzing with sparkling aldehydes. The effect continues in strength as the coriander and pepper quickly burn away. Honey/vanilla and aldehydes with musk is a particular combination I like (see my reviews for Roja Dove "A Midsummer Dream" and Imaginary Authors "L'Orchidee Terrible"). "1957" actually shares a lot of similarities to the drydown of "A Midsummer Dream", although it lacks the oakmoss/chypre edge of the Roja perfume (which is strongest in its opening). Except for the pink pepper/coriander edge of the topnotes, which are gone quickly, "1957" is far more linear than AMD, but it's also more polished than other aldehyde-sweet-musk combinations I've tried. There is nothing screechy about the aldehydes of "1957". They soften the cirtus, honey, orris and musk - make them almost translucent. Even better, the creaminess of the orris and the vanilla/honey combine to create a rich, almost gourmand undertone that is absolutely delicious. Every phase of this perfume is considered, and the result is pure sophistication. I can't help but picture an impossibly chic woman in a powder blue, shimmering 1950s party dress, pink lipstick, white gloves, short hair perfectly coiffed. This is feminine and addictively beautiful.

When I first received this as a Christmas gift from my husband - along with the Sublime Bois des Iles - I quickly fell in love. But my joy was short lived as the fragrance started out promising but quickly vanished from my skin. Or so I thought. I began to question if I was anosmic to musk. While I had the sensation of powdery cleanliness, I couldn't understand why others were getting more. Well I eventually realized that the error was mine, and one I repeated often with many fragrances I've accused of poor longevity. I am guilty of over-spraying! Once I limited myself to three spritzes max, I began to really appreciate how 1957 unwinds and lasts for a significant amount of time for such a light fragrance. It's definitely intimate. It doesn't shout, but if you allow someone to get close, maybe even with a hug, it definitely beckons. I actually realized how overspraying was a problem for me one day when I tried a single spray of TF Jasmin Rouge on the top of my hand. I used to curse the poor performance, but needed a hit of jasmine at that moment. That single spray lasted hours and hours. It wafted whenever I moved my hand. And though I wouldn't call it a sillage monster, it's definitely noticeable about 4 feet around you. Getting back to 1957, I'm looking forward to seeing how it performs in the spring time. I now own 4 full bottles from the Les Exclusif line along with a large lot of Coromandel samples - my next full bottle purchase. I love the line and though my experiences have been limited to the EDPs, I don't feel like I'm missing anything.