Case Study: Eau Couture or Why Chanel No.5 L’Eau Aims & Mostly Misses ~ Columns

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Which is the most memorable tagline in perfume advertising? “Promise her anything but give her Arpege” fares high up there to be sure, though “You stay dry. She gets wet” for Faberge’s Brut is a fierce contestant. Chanel, classy outfit that it is, thought of a really good but tamer one recently upon the launch of their modernized version of the classic No.5, L’Eau. “You know me and you don’t”. There, in a simple juxtaposition of positive affirmation and internal questioning, lies the pitch of their modernization of their “monstre sacré”. Which predisposes that there are a few problems with it to begin with.

Faced with the very real conundrum of having a legend on their hands, rather than a popularly worn versus popularly bought fragrance, Chanel has been trying to solve the puzzle. How to retain the mythos that was so meticulously built and at the same time make a 1920s composition appeal to contemporary audiences who scoff at floral aldehydics, labeling them “obsolete” and “granny-ish” in a condescending way? Even employing a covetable guy as the face of the perfume didn’t quite work.

The light bulb moment came in 2007 when Chanel headquarters decided to address this odd phenomenon: people bought No.5 but they rarely actually wore it.

A gift mainly then, to impart in its status and elegance, but a perfume that infamously does poorly in blind consumer tests? You bet.

The solution? Modernize the formula to bring it up to par with a contemporary sensibility but without betraying its core. Not an easy feat.

But the story goes a bit back. It all started in the 80s when then in-house perfumer, the erstwhile Jacques Polge, created the first real “tampering” of the authentic formula to bring it up to par with the powerhouses of the decade of excess. When you have to keep your footing in the market that saw the original typhoon of Dior’s Poison and the lead density of detonator of amber waves that was the original Obsession by Calvin Klein, you have to have a classy and elegant formula boosted to its logical limit. Ergo No.5 received a generous helping dose of the sandalwood synthetic Polysantol which effectuated that smooth, lactic boost that was missing from the earlier versions. No.5 Eau de Parfum is possibly not the “truest” No.5 but it is a satisfying edition that is made with great care.

Chanel continued to keep a very tight, and careful, modus operandi on any and all subsequent editions of No.5. I distinctly and fondly recall the No.5 Elixir Sensuelle which boosted the soapier and muskier elements to render a less faithful but still sexy-as-hell body gel. It encapsulated what Coco herself had meant for No.5 to symbolize: a clean woman that wasn’t at odds with her natural scent. The idea that women could be both sexy and not dirty. After all, her inspiration was a famous cocotte friend who smelled “clean”, contrary to society women of the times “who smelled dirty” according to the French designer herself.

The logical extension could only be manifested in something like Eau Première. Indeed praised by almost everyone in the industry for adhering to the original concept, without deviating too much, and at the same time bringing forth a new sensibility, Eau Première was critically praised by critics and bloggers, as well as connoisseur wearers only to be daunted at the fragrance counter by a relative indifference in its modern message. Why was that? And why did Chanel change the bottle design mid-course?

The answer lies in aiming at the right audience in the right way.

Simply put, Eau Première, fabulous though it was, couldn’t address the needs and wants of a youthful audience who knew No.5 from its legendary course and urban fashion clout, but did not feel confident in pulling it off in real time. The fragrance didn’t do as spectacularly well commercially as one would expect.

The change of the bottle a couple of years ago to mirror the classic No.5 that we have come to almost instinctively link to what Marilyn Monroe endorsed, reflects exactly this anxiousness to translate in no uncertain terms that it is “that legendary thang”.

Chanel also held another live volcano in their hands. The privately held company has been channeling their pedigree to the Chinese rich by heavily lending clothes and accessories to aspiring young coquettes who were copiously photographed, only to rise a raucous in tabloids for exposing such an affluent lifestyle in an era of austerity. In a country where many people work for as little as $2 a day, such an ill-advised display of wealth on 15-year olds is sort of a scandal. Will the Chinese press keep pointing it out like they have or will they eventually forget about it?

Chanel No.5 L’Eau, endorsed by said debutantes of the Chinese press, has been hailed as an innovation, but it’s really “new old school”. And I’m stating this in a positive light.

To wit, the use of aldehyde C8 is an addition that is not particularly modernist, nor is Australian sandalwood or the fractional-distillation ylang ylang that Polge père and Polge fils have been surely contemplating using for a couple of years now. The balancing act of the fragrance lies in judging how the citrusy freshness extends and rejuvenates the rose in the heart.

The core of L’Eau is shifted from the densely ylang and perceptible musk chord that dominates the modern varietals of No.5 to the delicate, wisp-like chord of citrus and rose. By definition the concentration is light, ethereal, reflected in the choice of Lily-Rose Depp as the face of the ads.

And herein lies an interesting facet of the launch of No.5 L’Eau. With the usual predilection for choosing from a coterie of insiders Karl Lagerfeld must have zoomed in on the daughter of a former Chanel model, none other than Vanessa Paradis who posed as a “paradisal bird” for the Jacques Helleu conceived commercials for Coco eau de parfum. The original spicy oriental, that is.

Depp’s daughter has a few things working in her favor. Nepotism, alas. A pretty genetic pool to draw from. A brave stance on publicizing her sexuality (and all the more power to her!). And a natural sylphid grace that works well in the same way Nicole Kidman, bless her unattainable silhouette, sanctioned the impossible elegance of the classic No.5 a long while ago.

But she also has a few things working against her. People who buy glossies and watch TV commercials don’t really know Lily-Rose the way they know Julia Roberts, face of the mega-seller and competitor La Vie Est Belle. When you want to punch your opponent, L’Oreal, even with kid gloves, shouldn’t you opt for assessing their strengths and then offering comparable ones? I don’t see that.

This is the crux of the potential “problem” with the lovely No.5 L’Eau. The newer L’Eau cannot be connected to the myth without offering a new myth in its place. The modernization of the original myth. Boldly going where no one has gone before. Gisele had the right mass-appeal but she lacked the mystique; she’s no actress really…Keira Knightley, the face of Coco Mlle, for all her obnoxious (to me!) pouting, was an inspired choice for the youth-oriented fragrance. Pushed by the film industry, hard working and rather graceful in a physical sense, she seemed approachable for her audience but not too approachable. The commercials that Lily-Rose stars in mean absolutely nothing. They’re jammed-packed with images that do not quite symbolize the many things the company would have wished.

It remains to be seen when the next modernization of No.5 will happen. As it is, I don’t predict No.5 L’Eau to be the definitive modern version. And it won’t be because of its truly lovely scent.