Chanel No. 19 EDT

I've been wearing Chanel No. 19 EDT all week. It's a moody perfume. I reached for it last Saturday morning after a night of rain. And then I reached for it again on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday-- again and again up until today. I find it comforting in a cozy, grey-wool-sweater kind of way.

I've always been intrigued by No. 19. I think my mother had a small sample bottle as a child; I feel like I knew what it smelled like long before I actually smelled it.

It's not an easy smell to like. It's one of my more complicated perfumes. It's not at all sweet or fruity. No sugared vanilla or berries here. And I can't detect any warm patchouli at the end. Wearing it every day for a week, however, I've discovered some of No. 19's subtleties that had previously evaded me. Its most striking feature, I think, is its softness. At first spray, it's all angles and sharp edges; fresh cut grass and hay and crumpled leaves. Then, slowly, a soft leather rises up, followed by a sideways rose-- more of a green, antiqued rose (if such a thing even exisits!). It dries down into a warm, powdery finished, fresh in an earthy way; like freshly tilled earth.

When I got a sample of No. 19 earlier this year, I wrote in my little perfume notebook that it was like jasmine graphite, sophisticated, ladylike and heartbreaking. I certainly feel the same way now except I would add that it's very distinguished and very distinguishable from all my other scents.

Osmoz lists it as a floral green but I've always known it to be the queen of chypres-- an oakmoss that smells earthy and mossy and godly green. I have a small vial of the EDP that I hope to review later; I had a sample made at a Sephora in Paris as they only sell the EDT in the United States. While in Paris I also mustered up the courage to walk into *the* Chanel on 31, rue Cambon (no one hardly noticed me and it turned out to be not as scary as I thought), and was delighted to see a giant spray bottle of the pure parfum. I gave my arm a liberal squirt and spent the next 8 hours sniffing my arm every 15 minutes. It was absolutely gorgeous. No bitter angles at all; just soft, pretty green magic. I kick myself for not splurging on a small bottle of the parfum; a quarter ounce, however, was about 80 euros ... next time!

Kelly Caleche Eau de Toilette - Hermes

The bottle to this perfume is gorgeous-- all tall and elegant, with pink-hued perfume. I'd been eager to try this; it was created by Jean-Claude Ellena, Hermes' in-house perfumer. I became a big Ellena fan after reading an article in The New Yorker about how he created Un Jardin Sur Le Nil in 2004. Chandler Burr wrote that article (and is now the perfume critic for The New York Times) and chronicled Ellena's process from start to finish. Reading that article kickstarted my interest in perfume.

Back to Kelly Caleche. It's very, very pretty. According to Ozmos, its notes are: Top: green notes, lily-of-the-valley, rose and narcissus; Middle: climbing rose, mimosa, tuberose; Base: iris, woodsy notes, leather accord. What I smell most is lemon, followed by tea rose and soft leather. The leather isn't as overwhelming as walking into a leather store but more like burrowing your nose into a supple leather handbag. It's subtle. Upon first spray last night I said, Oh! Now that's a scent for me! It's softly layered and opens very quietly and gradually. I get hints of green lemons and menthol and the softest rose. It's less in my face that Coco Mademoiselle.

Ultimately, I don't think I'll invest in a full bottle. It's too similar to Un Jardin Sur Le Nil for me to fork over $75. In France, many perfumes are available in 30 mL, the perfect amount, in my opinion. Just enough, especially if, like Kelly Caleche, it's pretty but not mind-blowing.