Showing posts with label reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reviews. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

The Perfect Scent for a Little Pink Princess?





reflections on perfection and perfume in Black Swan (2010)
directed by Darren Aronofsky


Perfume is seldom given much air time in films--whether feature length or series episodes--part of the reason for which may simply be that scent is not visual. Perhaps even more importantly, perfume is simply not an important part of life for the vast majority of humanity, avid perfumistas notwithstanding. When perfume does make a brief appearance, it usually serves as a setting prop, a part of the interior decoration of a space where one of the protagonists lives. 

In Black Swan, starring Natalie Portman,Vincent Cassel, and Mila Kunis, with important contributing roles by Barbara Hershey and Winona Ryder, perfume is shown only a couple of times, and it is the same bottle.



From the shape, anyone who knows anything about perfume recognizes that it is Chanel, but which Chanel perfume might this little bottle contain? To answer that question, one must consider the bottle in context. Nina (the Natalie Portman character), a twenty-year-old ballerina whose life quest is "to be perfect," has boosted the little bottle of extrait from Beth (the Winona Ryder character), who is described by some catty younger ballerinas in the same troupe (the New York Ballet) as "approaching menopause." 




That is, of course, why "the little princess" is on her way out the door, while her mentor and former lover, Thomas Leroy, the exceedingly French ballet director (played by Vincent Cassel), is attempting to fill Beth's now tattered toe shoes.

That's a lot to keep track of, for those who have not seen the film, which I do recommend, despite some gripes. Here is my IMDB review:


Psychological Thriller--not film noir

7/10

3 October 2014
*** This review may contain spoilers ***
I was very intrigued to see that Black Swan was included in the 2014 Film Noir encyclopedia (published by Taschen). Maybe I don't understand what film noir is, but it seems that some people (the editors of that volume) were laboring under the ill-conceived notion that the word 'black' in the title "Black Swan" was a sufficient qualifying noir element. I respectfully disagree.

There is no crime in this movie at all. There is no mystery. There is the psychological and emotional breakdown of a ballerina under intense pressure by her mother and herself to be perfect. There is a sexist dance director who preys on his star ballerinas until they grow too old, at which point he kicks his "little princess" to the curb to make room for the next lay in line.

That all may sound pretty negative, so why did I give this movie a '7'? Because it really is the film equivalent of a page turner. There is lots of forward momentum, which keeps the story from ever becoming boring-- though I see that many of the "hate it" reviewers found the whole thing tedious. One detractor suggested that time would be better spent watching paint dry.

I do agree with the naysayers that the rival ballerina character, played by Mila Kunis (who had a huge full-back tattoo--hello? In a professional ballet troupe????) was not very believable. She seemed more like a frat girl looking to rack up as many one-night stands as possible in the shortest amount of time. I also dislike this director's general tendency toward hyperbole and histrionics, often verging on hysteria. (See: Requiem for a Dream for much, much more on that...). There is a heavy-handed but arguably incoherent Freudian undercurrent throughout this film. (If the Freudian line were right, then a less- frigid Nina would simply abandon ballet...)

Which reminds me of the fundamental problem with Black Swan: each short scene is brim with energy and seeming significance, but then nothing ever really ties it all together in a coherent way. The ending turns out to have nothing really to do with anything that preceded it--aside from the fact that Nina has had a major mental breakdown. Perhaps the harsh detractors were displeased that the action depicted throughout the film oscillates wildly between objective and subjective reality. Lots of hallucinations are included through the use of special effects in scenes which seem initially to be about the world of the film, not the skewed world of the main character's mind.

Nina, the Natalie Portman character, is exceptionally neurotic and annoying, to be perfectly frank. She constantly scratches herself, to the point of causing rashes and bleeding down her back. I was not convinced that such a woman/girl could really make it to the big league of ballet, for which the competition is no doubt incredibly intense. Nina is so fragile and devoid of self-esteem that Portman's performance struck me as more consistent with an introverted outcast devoid of any friends. For that role, I'd say her acting was good. Think: Ally Sheedy in The Breakfast Club. For this one? I was not convinced.

I was happy to see the star of La Haine (Vincent Cassel) in the male lead role, though it was also somewhat annoyingly stereotypical. (All powerful French men are sexual predators--ce n'est pas vrai?) Despite its many flaws and its massive melodrama and endless clichés and stereotypes, I still found Black Swan worth watching. Would I watch it a second time? Probably not. So, to me, this is no masterpiece (a necessary criterion for which is the desire and even compulsion to view the film over and over again). But I do believe that Black Swan is worth watching once.

  
I did not see this film back when it was released in 2010. Apparently it garnered lots of critical acclaim and generated something of a cult following, as did the notorious Requiem for a Dream (2000), an oeuvre de jeunesse of this same director, Darren "Sledgehammer" Aronofsky. I am not at all fond of this sort of "shock and awe" film making, but in Black Swan there are enough competing themes woven throughout that even though all of them are pretty simpleminded and sometimes sophomoric, the sledgehammer effect is moderated to some extent. Which theme appealed most to those who love this film? Take your pick from the Aronofsky arsenal of pseudo and semi-intellectual clichés:

  • true art demands sacrifice
  • failed parents push their children to be what they never became
  • women are esteemed for their physical beauty while still young, after which society cruelly deems that they are best hidden away far from view
  • art is an inferior substitute for sex (Freud 101)
  • everyone is incestuous and gay, to a greater or lesser extent (Freud 102)


The list literally goes on and on... From my rather negative reaction to the "just say no" War on Drugs feature-length info-mercial, Requiem for a Dream, I am now prepared to state, as the conclusion of an induction on two cases, that subtlety is not Mr. Aronofsky's forte.




Of course, that is precisely why he has been heralded as a true auteur by those who adore him: his messages are so loud and strident that you'd have to be stone deaf not to hear them. They also echo piles of platitudes bouncing around like so many ping-pong balls in nearly anyone's cranium, thus persuading them to believe that he really "gets it"--whatever one happens to believe.

Is Black Swan about achieving artistic perfection? Or is it about abject failure, the self-destruction of a young woman who tries hard to be perfect, but cannot surmount her own pathetic desire to please others: her mother, her director, her predecessor, the audience--in effect: anyone and everyone.

This need to please, to "be good", to endear herself to other people, to do what everyone thinks that she should do, consumes Nina's entire being. 

The number one culprit in this film, even above her lecherous director, is Nina's "self-sacrificing" mother Erica, who lives with her adult daughter and continues to fret over her as though she were still a small child. Erica is terrified of losing control and letting go of the last remaining hope that her own squandered life might still achieve some sort of vicarious meaning, however remote.


We've all heard and seen this song and dance over and over again, yet people continue to repeat the same mistake with each new generation. 

Alas, the fruit does not fall far from the tree: both Nina and her mother lack any degree of nobility of spirit. Who or what is to blame? Nature or nurture? Take your pick.



The mother and daughter are entirely obsessed with fame and success and with achieving the recognition of other people. For this reason, I find it ludicrous to consider them artists at all. Nina and her mother aspire to acclaim, not to "artistic perfection," whatever that's supposed to mean.

The perfume of perfection, then, turns out to be whatever Beth (Leroy's former "little princess") happened to wear. Had she worn Aquolina Pink Sugar, Nina would have stolen that bottle instead. Nina is devoid of any capacity for judging anything beyond a set of values generated by la foule. She looks out into the audience yearning for their applause, and that is why she steals Beth's lipstick, cigarettes, diamond earring studs and perfume.

Nina is altogether incapable of evaluating the quality of a perfume. Left to her own devices, she might well choose Pink Sugar--for its "pretty pink" color, as she describes the grapefruit her mother serves her for breakfast. Pink is also the color of the huge, thickly iced strawberry cake Erica buys to celebrate her daughter's success in being named the Swan Queen. 

Beth's bottle in all likelihood contains Chanel no 5. Why? Because it is a famous and even legendary perfume--perfect for a princess. Nina believes that by following Beth's example, she can become Leroy's new "little princess". Judging by her mother's silence on the matter, it seems that Nina does not really wear the perfume, except perhaps for her visit to Mr. Leroy's office, where she asks for the lead role of the Swan Queen in the upcoming production of Swan Lake. 




Nina may have worn the perfume along with the lipstick in her desperate effort to win the lead role, for the director does note that she has come to him all "dolled up". However, the aspiring Swan Queen definitely does not wear the perfume at home. Her mother takes note of the diamond studs in her daughter's ears but says not a word about the perfume scent which surely would waft strongly from anyone who applied Chanel no 5 to her skin. The best explanation may simply be that Nina takes a hot shower and lathers up with Camay soap to maintain her pink sheen after each day's rehearsal and before taking the subway home.

In the end, Nina dies having tasted, she says, perfection. In reality, she has been released from her suffering, her bleeding fingers and toes, once and for all.







Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Pre-Y2K Perfumery: The Way We Were






Review of 

Perfume: The Ultimate Guide to the World's FInest Fragrances 

by Nigel Groom 




This guide to perfume was published in 1999. To some, this may be a real turnoff. A text about perfume from fourteen years ago? Could anything in it still be true? Valid questions, yes. But also precisely why I cherish this little volume, the first perfume book I ever read, and still one of my favorites. Consider this charming little remark:
The economics of the industry are changing. More fragrances are coming out on the international market than ever before—some two or three hundred a year. Some will be successful, but many will fail and disappear.

Could Nigel Groomcould anyoneever have predicted that in 2013, there would be 2,451 perfume launches (according to the Parfumo.net database)? In my previous post, I poked fun at the perfumistas who pronounced the best ten or so perfumes from 2013, pointing out that they could not possibly have tested even a small fraction of the perfumes produced in that year. I'm afraid that we lost some of the few links to the illustrious salon de parfum in the process, but it was a small price to pay for speaking the truth about an industry and subculture grounded intrinsically in hype.

Back in the twentieth century, it would have been possible to have sniffed all of the perfumes released in a single year. A "Guide" to perfume made sense back in 1992, when Turin first penned one in French. Today? Not so much. Today any "guide" can only serve as a marketing tool, encouraging consumers to pursue what they have not already been lured into buying as a result of mass market advertising campaigns.

In reflecting on this 1999 book and why I like it so much, I have come to the conclusion that the Michael Edwards Fragrances of the World volume best suited for me could not possibly be anything published later than 2006, when, in my considered opinion, all hell broke loose in the world of perfumery.

Why are older perfume books generally better, and why is Nigel Groom's 1999 volume one of the best? Because it captures the reality of pre-Y2K perfumery as it was when it was what it was, which it no longer is. The perfume world has undergone massive, radical, and seemingly irrevocable transformations over the course of the past decade. Let us review a few of them:


  • corporate conglomeratization: nearly every single once-independent design house is now owned by one of the huge parent companies: LVMH, Procter & Gamble, Coty Prestige, L'oréal, Puig, Eurocosmesi, Elizabeth Arden, Estée Lauder, Parlux, et al.
  • homogenization: the convergence of style of perfumes being produced by ostensibly distinct houses but under the same helm—say, Coty Prestige—is perhaps a natural consequence of the fact that those who call the shots do so for not just one house, but for a cluster of them simultaneously. 
  • massive explosion of perfume launches: flankers and limited editions have become the rule, not the exception these days, with perfumes composed and released quickly and then followed up by namesakes cynically intended primarily to exploit all of the previous marketing campaigns leading up to the latest launch—touted invariably as the best new thing since Shalimar!
  • massive proliferation of perfume houses: everyone and his mother, brother, father, uncle, aunt, cousin, second cousin, niece and nephew has suddenly awoken in the middle of the night to discover that, lo, they are "perfumers"!!!! From a few rugged individualists who set out to teach themselves perfumery, and in some cases were quite assiduous and serious about doing so, in addition to being olfactorily gifted, we have arrived at a time where people appear to be flipping coins: "heads, real estate; tails, niche perfumery!"
  • massive expansion of celebrity launches: every two-bit reality show slut now has a perfume on the market--or ten! Having a perfume now appears to be a part of the aspiring singer's and actor's marketing platform—right up there with other forms of social media: Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, you name it! What next? Oh, right: a perfume!
  • Orwellian IFRA restrictions against the use of natural materials have been imposed  in the name of consumer health, with the surrogate materials being newfangled synthetics which have not stood the test of time (as the materials used in perfumery for millennia certainly have!). As a result of the willingness of perfumers to accede to tyrannical, corporate-generated demands, perfume is becoming more and more abstract, streamlined, and "clean" as a result. 

My fragrant friends, the above developments, all in the twenty-first century, have transmogrified the perfumery scene so fundamentally that some (many?) of us who fell in love with perfume in the twentieth century are having a difficult time navigating the terrain and even wondering in our less sanguine moments: Why bother?

Nigel Groom's book offers a glimpse into the world of perfumery as it once was, as it was when I, for one, developed an interest in the topic. Yes, there were parent companies; no, they were not behemoth omnivores. Yes, there were trends, but, no, there was no oud machine! Yes, there were unique bottles, but they were made of Lalique and Baccharat crystal, not covered with plastic diddily-doos! Yes, there were a few celebrity perfumes, thanks to Elizabeth Taylor. No, there certainly was not an entire celebrity perfume industry. Yes, there were innovations in the history of twentieth-century perfumery, such as the creative use of aldehydes in Chanel no 5. No, no one, not even the crassest, most jaded perfume executive in the twentieth century ever dared strip perfume of every single natural essence in the name of "health" guidelines drafted by people concerned to improve the bottom lines of the companies for which they work!




I love this little book because it offers a window into a world which no longer exists. But the perfume profiles featured describe and offer historical tidbits about the perfumes which I knew and loved: back when Samsara was still Samsara and Dolce Vita was Dolce Vita!

Here is a list of the houses covered in this slim volumewhich explicitly restricts itself to women's perfume, and spans fewer than 200 pages. The fragrances of each house discussed are indicated as well:

  1. Amouage: Amouage
  2. Antonia's Flowers: Anotonia's Flowers
  3. Elizabeth Arden: Blue Grass, Red Door, 5th Avenue
  4. Armani: G
  5. L'Artisan Parfumeur: Premier Figuier
  6. Baccarat: Une Nuit Etoilée au Bengale
  7. Parfums Balenciaga: Le Dix, Rumba
  8. Parfums Balmain: Vent Vert, Ivoire
  9. Bijan: DNA
  10. Boucheron: Boucheron
  11. Bourjois: Soir de Paris
  12. Bvlgari Parfums: Bvlgari pour Femme
  13. Parfums Cacharel: Anaïs Anaïs, Loulou
  14. Parfums Caron: Fleur[s] de Rocaille (1933)--nb: this is an error! Fleur de Rocaille (1993) is pictured, not Fleurs de Rocaille (1933)!
  15. Cartier: Must de Cartier, Panthère, So Pretty
  16. Carven Parfums: Ma Griffe, Eau Vive
  17. Parfums Cerruti: Cerruti 1881
  18. Chanel: No 5, No 19, Allure
  19. Mary Chess: Mary Chess
  20. Parfums Chloé: Chloé, Narcisse
  21. Chopard: Wish
  22. Clarins: Eau Dynamisante
  23. The House of Coty: L'Aimant, Vanilla Fields, Monsoon
  24. The House of Creed: Royal Water
  25. Crown Perfumery: Marechal, Crown Bouquet
  26. Parfums Salvador Dali: Le Parfum, Le Roy Soleil
  27. Davidoff: Cool Water Woman
  28. Desprez: Bal à Versailles
  29. Parfums Chrisian Dior: Miss Dior, Dune, Dolce Vita
  30. Dolce & Gabbana Parfums: Dolce & Gabbana
  31. Parfums d'Orsay: Etiquette Bleue
  32. Escada: Escada, Sunny Frutti
  33. Parfums Fendi: Theorema
  34. Ferregamo: Salvatore Ferregamo pour Femme
  35. Floris: Stephanotis, Gardenia
  36. Jean-Paul Gaultier: Jean-Paul Gaultier
  37. Romeo Gigli: Romeo 
  38. Giorgio Beverly Hills: Giorgio, Wings, Ocean Dream
  39. Parfums Givenchy: Amarige, Organza, Extravigance
  40. Annick Goutal: Grand Amour, Heure Exquise
  41. Parfums Grès: Cabochard, Folie Douce
  42. Parfums Gucci: Envy
  43. Guerlain: L'Heure Bleue, Samsara, Champs Elysées
  44. Gale Hayman, Inc.: Delicious
  45. Hermès Parfums: Calèche; 24, Faubourg
  46. Carolina Herrera Perfumes: Flore, 212
  47. Houbigant: Quelques Fleurs, Raffinée
  48. Iceberg: Iceberg Twice Ice
  49. Perfumes Isabell: Mandarin
  50. Parfums Joop!: All About Eve
  51. Joseph: Parfum de Jour
  52. Donna Karan Beauty: Donna Karan New York
  53. Parfums Kenzo: Parfum d'Eté
  54. Calvin Klein: Obsession, Contradiction
  55. Parfums Karl Lagerfeld: Sun, Moon, Stars
  56. Lalique: Parfum Lalique, Nilang
  57. Lancôme: Trésor, Poême
  58. Parfums Lanvin: Arpège
  59. Estée Lauder: Knowing, Pleasures, Dazzling Gold, Dazzling Silver
  60. Ralph Lauren: Safari, Polo Sport Woman
  61. Parfums Lelong: Indiscret
  62. Parfums Lolita Lempicka: Lolita Lempicka
  63. Parfums Loewe: Air Loewe
  64. Jo Malone: Lime, Basil & Mandarin
  65. Nicole MIller: Nicole Miller
  66. Issey Miyake: L'Eau d'Issey
  67. Molinard: Habanita, Molinard de Molinard
  68. Parfums Montana: Parfum de Peau
  69. Popy Moreni: Popy Moreni
  70. Thierry Mugler: Angel
  71. Parfums de Nicolaï: Sacrebleu
  72. Rifat Ozbek: Ozbek
  73. Jean Patou: Joy
  74. Penhaligon's: Victorian Posy
  75. La Perla: La Perla
  76. Parfums Paloma Picasso: Mon Parfum, Tentations
  77. Parfums Robert Piguet: Fracas
  78. Parfums Paco Rabanne: XS pour Elle
  79. Oscar de la Renta: Oscar, So de la Renta
  80. Nina Ricci: L'Air du Temps, Nina, Deci Dela
  81. Parfums Rochas: Femme, Madame Rochas, Alchimie
  82. Royal Doulton: Doulton
  83. Parfums Yves Saint Laurent: Paris, Opium, Yvresse
  84. Jil Sander: Jil
  85. Schiaparelli: Shocking, Zut
  86. Shiseido: Feminité du Bois, Vocalise
  87. Alfred Sung: Sung Forever
  88. Elizabeth Taylor: White Diamonds
  89. Tiffany & Co.: Tiffany
  90. Parfums Trussardi: Trussardi Light Her
  91. Parfums Ungaro: Diva
  92. Parfums Valentino: Very Valentino
  93. Van Cleef & Arpels: Van Cleef
  94. Versace Profumi: V'E, Blonde
  95. Madeleine Vionnet: Madeleine Vionnet
  96. Vivian Westwood: Boudoir
  97. Les Parfums Worth: Je Reviens

That's it! The author apologizes for the abridged list and explains that selection was necessary, but what I find interesting is that I have tested and reviewed most of these perfumesand even own a fair number of them in vintage form! For me, this book is a keepsake text about how the world of perfumery once was, back when a perfume launch was an event, not a tweet. 




It would be possible to select a "Best of" from this entirely manageable group of perfumes, or even among all of the launches available at that time. In 2013? Good luck sniffing your way through the other 2000+ perfumes! And why bother, when it is obvious that the multi-mega-launchers are mostly doing Lego composition these days, lacking inspiration, insight, and often skill as well?

I read a dismissive review of Nigel Groom's 1999 book at Amazon. The angry reviewer denounced the work as "worthless". It is true that this is no longer a guide to perfume today. That point should be obvious from two words alone: Miss Dior

Back in 1999, Nigel Groom no doubt believed that he had produced a perfume guide. Instead, what we have here is an archaeological find!




Friday, August 9, 2013

Would Chloé wear Chloé?



Reflections on Chloé (2009), directed by Atom Egoyan 




Chloé is a prostitute. A high-class prostitute, but a prostitute nonetheless. Her clients are well-to-do Toronto men who meet with her at a hotel adjacent to the gynecology office of one Catherine Stewart, a successful physician married to an equally successful college professor of music, David Stewart. 




The couple has a teenage son, Michael, who is about to graduate from high school. 




The Stewart family is beautiful.



How do the worlds of a high-end hooker and a successful yuppie couple manage to intersect? Certainly Chloé is comely, and Catherine has taken note of her, looking down from above, as she peers out of the windows of her slick office, without initially realizing that the blond woman is a prostitute. From a distance, she looks just like a well-to-do young lady going out on a date with a man of means.Who'd have guessed that such apparently amorous attentions could be directed toward a "working girl"?




Unless, of course, she happens to be spotted with another such man in another place, say, a restaurant where the Stewarts happen to be dining out one night with friends.




Yes, by process of deduction, Catherine Stewart determines that this young woman is in fact a prostitute. She makes her acquaintance, oddly enough, in the bathroom, as Chloé is sobbing and in need of tissue, which Catherine helpfully passes to her under the stall.





Perhaps we can say that shoes are the great equalizer, for from this view, it's hard to tell which woman is which, though their trades do focus on the very same object, so to speak.




Chloé seems to be suffering from love troubles, as she mutters something to the effect that men are jerks. Catherine wholeheartedly concurs, having recently been suffering from worries that her apparently DH may be not so devoted after all.

The two beautiful women exchange a few words in front of the mirror before returning to their respective "dates".





The troubles chez the Stewart clan have been brewing since David failed to appear for his surprise birthday party, claiming that he had missed his plane after teaching a course in another city (New York?).





In fact, he purposely skipped the party. The question looming large in Catherine's mind is: Why?



The very next morning, the unwelcome answer blips into David's cellphone as it sits unattended on a table. 
Let philanderers herewith be forewarned: gadgets are not your friends. No, not even yours, Anthony Weiner.


At this point, Catherine's disappointment that David was a no-show to his birthday party begins to ferment into anger and suspiciousness to the point where she interprets his every word through the lens of a jilted lover. Blinded to all else, what she now sees through that lens is a shameless adulterer.




No amount of yuppie eye candy, in abundance throughout the Stewarts' not-so-humble abode, can lift the fog under which Catherine now labors.




No, I'm afraid that money cannot buy you love, Catherine and David.




All of these trappings of success are worthless in the face of disaffection.




As a self-possessed woman of means (although it's worth pointing out that she took her husband's surname), Catherine sets out to prove once and for all that her formerly devoted husband has transmogrified into just another mid-life-crisis-afflicted cad, chasing after thong-clad nubile co-eds young enough to be his child.

She sets up a meeting with Chloé, during which she makes her a rather peculiar proposition. 




Chloé is at first taken aback, but then agrees to play a role in Catherine's scheme, by posing as a college student and placing herself strategically within David's sight to find out whether he will make his move.




David appears initially not to take the bait. But Catherine persists, returning to the ATM machine to procure the funds needed to hire Chloé once again.





Eventually the two women end up in the hotel room where, Chloé reports, the dirty deed has been done.






The two women sit together in the very same, sin-infested space, 
Chloé's hair still wet from her post-coital shower. 
Catherine plummets into despair upon hearing Chloé's latest report.




As Chloé attempts to console Catherine later that day, at last the moment for perfume arrives. 
Catherine detects Chloé's scent and asks her what perfume she's wearing. 




Chloé informs her that it is not perfume but lotion.
She takes the tube out of her purse and offers some to Catherine, gently rubbing it into her hands.




The scented lotion takes on a new and deeper meaning for Catherine later, when David detects the scent and asks her whether she is wearing perfume. Catherine replies, as did Chloé to her identical question, "It's not perfume. It's lotion." To Catherine's horror, David whispers in a raspy voice: "I like it."




Aghast that her husband now smells on her the scent of the tramp with whom he has only just slept, Catherine is filled with disgust. From here, everything spirals downward, but I'll not reveal the dénouement...

I will say that throughout the story a few interesting subplots pop up, including Catherine's discovery that her beloved son is now sleeping with a young woman who dashes about the Stewarts' house in Victoria's Secret undies.




When the proverbial couple with everything attend their son's brilliant piano recital, what should be a cause for great joy, Catherine cannot wrench her troubles from her mind.




Catherine is mad, and she's not going to take it anymore.






Amidst all of the cinematographic beauty of this film (or is it just yuppie eye candy?), our underlying and truly pressing question remains:

Would Chloé wear Chloé?



The answer, I find, is: YES! Let us examine the facts, and my grounds for this belief.

First, Chloé does not wear perfume, she wears lotion. Second, Chloé must be clean and pristine for each client whom she meets, who may or may not enjoy the rich and redolent scents of natural tuberose, rose, iris, narcissus, ylang-ylang, jasmine, or any other complex floral scent existing in nature.

Chloé in fact needs, in order to succeed in her chosen profession, as a high-class hooker, most of whose clients are well-to-do married men looking for some safe diddling on the side, to smell clean. Clearly, given her market niche, so to speak, she must make it believable that she is not disease infested or some kind of dime-store whore wafting of Tabu.

And she is not, we learn at one point during the film, as Catherine asks Chloé to present her "clean bill of health" dossier before engaging in any hanky-panky with David. Chloé graciously obliges, showing up one afternoon at Catherine's office (she is, lest we forget, a gynecologist), "papers" in hand:




Chloé would not, I think (for a couple of reasons, only one of which I'll reveal here), wear Chloé Love (pictured on the right).


Chloé and Chloé Love


Chloé Love has a detectable iris note, and a resinousness which might or might not appeal to Chloé's clients. Chloé also probably would not wear the original Karl Lagerfeld Chloé, which I am sorry to say that I never got a chance to sniff before it was ruined by reformulation--at least according to Roja Dove.

Chloé would, however, wear the new Chloé, a quintessentially abstract floral scent which falls squarely into the twenty-first-century category of shampoo and conditioner frags. Squeaky clean, as though she just emerged from a shower, Chloé wearing Chloé would be a perfect pair!





I rest my case.