“This fragrance, for me, inhabits a world apart. Both modern and classical, enfolded in its sophisticated construction seems a summary of the history of male fragrance. It’s Alan Rickman reading a sonnet. Never shouting, it smoothly unfolds, from a cultivated lavender smile, through a breathless cardamom aria, to opoponax, vanilla, and natural oak moss. It grows slowly but never precipitously deeper, with enchanting nuance, calm, and distinction. Perfection at last? No, but pretty close. Polge’s flair for combining masculinity and class rarely fails.”
27 February 2009-Anonymous Fragrance Review of Chanel Pour Monsieur Concentree on Basenotes.net
This is an anonymous fragrance review from Basenotes.net for Chanel Pour Monsieur Concentree in production since 1989. But, for me Alan Rickman reading a sonnet and lavender are the last things that come to mind when I hear the words Pour Monsieur.
Allow me to enlighten you about my personal history with Pour Monsieur and why it is on my brain at precisely this moment. Four days ago it was my baby Sister’s birthday when an inside family joke resurfaced, written on her Facebook Wall by our other Sister. It was at that moment that the Pour Monsieur memories came flooding back.
The last few weeks have been painfully negative news-wise. I am a news addict, but, even I grow tired of reading, hearing and watching the harsh realities of the world outside. Hence the reasons that I would like to let you in on the family joke and talk a little bit how smell evokes nostalgia for me.
Eight years ago my cousin was married in Staten Island, New York. My Uncle was living in Florida at the time so he travelled up for the wedding. When he ventured back to Port Saint Lucie he left behind a fragrance bottle, Pour Monsieur Concentree by Chanel. Upon finding the cologne at my Mother’s house my Sister, Cheryl and my little Sister, Sharon’s boyfriend, Chris began spraying the fragrance at one another repeatedly. It was not enchanting, calm and distinctive; it was overpowering. The fact that my family members were dousing one another with it made it that much worse. It was putrid. Apparently, gratitude for the humor that was created belongs to a perfumer/chemist named Jacques Polge and my Uncle’s then wife who loved shopping at Bergdorf Goodman. A game began where Pour Monsieur would pop up in dressers, drawers, closets, bags and numerous places where it had been hidden by a given prankster.
But, I giggle the most about the name my Sister gave the delightful scent, which was the literal English annunciation of the words Pour Monsieur. (Pour, as you would pour a beverage, monsieur, sounding like mons-sure) Staten Island is overwhelmingly Italian American; I would wager to say that the French spoken there is very minimal. In SI, dropping the letter R off of a word ending in the letter R is commonplace in the island dialect. Just imagine how funny the word monsieur sounds when being spoken by a Staten Islander; it sounds riotously funny. Tears of laughter inevitably stream down my face whenever the words Pour and Monsieur are said together. Having taken several semesters of French in college and having been employed by a French publicist for a number of years the butchering of the words brings on a fit of laughter. I have fallen in love with the incorrect manner in which we refer to this item which was purchased in a luxury department store.
Life’s aromas evoke such memories for me. There are some smells that bring me so much comfort. Fire wood burning is reminiscent of a family vacation we took the Poconos when I was young. Apple pie and cinnamon remind me of my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving and togetherness. Peonies, my absolute favorite flower in varied hues of pink, the color I adore provokes thoughts of June, when it blooms, the month I was born and shopping for flowers for my wedding day. Basil and Rosemary remind me of my Grandmother, Gilda cooking. A wisp of gasoline brings me back to my parent’s Chrysler LeBaron Convertible, sitting in the car while they filled up at Certo’s.
Then there are the smells I despise, which my olfactory glands could do without ever smelling again. The smell of burning rubber immediately horrifies me because it takes me back to the two months after 9/11/01. Flowers without adequate water changes sitting in a vase are the equivalent of my dog making the unwise decision to chase a skunk and me having to cope with the aftermath. Goldschlager and anything resembling black licorice remind me of a time I had one too many shots and a poor cab driver had to cope with the aftermath. (For a while I worked in a club; if the smell of this alcohol cropped up while I was doing bar inventory or clearing a register I would have to instantly dart away)
The same fragrance being worn by masses of the population at the same time also end up on the, “Pee-you list.”During the 80’s and early 90’s it was Drakkar Noir. During the mid to late 90’s this was Issey Miyake and CK One. People at SUNY FIT, where I went to college would bathe themselves in this stuff and then head to class.
Why would anyone want to smell like everyone else? Fragrance should be such a personal thing. Sephora, the beauty retailer actually ranks the top selling perfumes in their stores with numbers. Coco Chanel once said, “In order to be irreplaceable one must always be different.” Weird that I have chosen to quote the women whose last name is on the bottle of something that is a running joke among family. I quote her because she was a fashion icon. I steer clear of Sephora’s 1-10 and choose that which pleasant to me, which tend to be perfumes that are floral and vibrant. (Stella in Two Peony by Stella McCartney and Nannette Lepore are beautiful to me personally)
In closing….
Pour l'Homme, pour les Dames, ne pas verser sur votre parfum.
27 February 2009-Anonymous Fragrance Review of Chanel Pour Monsieur Concentree on Basenotes.net
This is an anonymous fragrance review from Basenotes.net for Chanel Pour Monsieur Concentree in production since 1989. But, for me Alan Rickman reading a sonnet and lavender are the last things that come to mind when I hear the words Pour Monsieur.
Allow me to enlighten you about my personal history with Pour Monsieur and why it is on my brain at precisely this moment. Four days ago it was my baby Sister’s birthday when an inside family joke resurfaced, written on her Facebook Wall by our other Sister. It was at that moment that the Pour Monsieur memories came flooding back.
The last few weeks have been painfully negative news-wise. I am a news addict, but, even I grow tired of reading, hearing and watching the harsh realities of the world outside. Hence the reasons that I would like to let you in on the family joke and talk a little bit how smell evokes nostalgia for me.
Eight years ago my cousin was married in Staten Island, New York. My Uncle was living in Florida at the time so he travelled up for the wedding. When he ventured back to Port Saint Lucie he left behind a fragrance bottle, Pour Monsieur Concentree by Chanel. Upon finding the cologne at my Mother’s house my Sister, Cheryl and my little Sister, Sharon’s boyfriend, Chris began spraying the fragrance at one another repeatedly. It was not enchanting, calm and distinctive; it was overpowering. The fact that my family members were dousing one another with it made it that much worse. It was putrid. Apparently, gratitude for the humor that was created belongs to a perfumer/chemist named Jacques Polge and my Uncle’s then wife who loved shopping at Bergdorf Goodman. A game began where Pour Monsieur would pop up in dressers, drawers, closets, bags and numerous places where it had been hidden by a given prankster.
But, I giggle the most about the name my Sister gave the delightful scent, which was the literal English annunciation of the words Pour Monsieur. (Pour, as you would pour a beverage, monsieur, sounding like mons-sure) Staten Island is overwhelmingly Italian American; I would wager to say that the French spoken there is very minimal. In SI, dropping the letter R off of a word ending in the letter R is commonplace in the island dialect. Just imagine how funny the word monsieur sounds when being spoken by a Staten Islander; it sounds riotously funny. Tears of laughter inevitably stream down my face whenever the words Pour and Monsieur are said together. Having taken several semesters of French in college and having been employed by a French publicist for a number of years the butchering of the words brings on a fit of laughter. I have fallen in love with the incorrect manner in which we refer to this item which was purchased in a luxury department store.
Life’s aromas evoke such memories for me. There are some smells that bring me so much comfort. Fire wood burning is reminiscent of a family vacation we took the Poconos when I was young. Apple pie and cinnamon remind me of my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving and togetherness. Peonies, my absolute favorite flower in varied hues of pink, the color I adore provokes thoughts of June, when it blooms, the month I was born and shopping for flowers for my wedding day. Basil and Rosemary remind me of my Grandmother, Gilda cooking. A wisp of gasoline brings me back to my parent’s Chrysler LeBaron Convertible, sitting in the car while they filled up at Certo’s.
Then there are the smells I despise, which my olfactory glands could do without ever smelling again. The smell of burning rubber immediately horrifies me because it takes me back to the two months after 9/11/01. Flowers without adequate water changes sitting in a vase are the equivalent of my dog making the unwise decision to chase a skunk and me having to cope with the aftermath. Goldschlager and anything resembling black licorice remind me of a time I had one too many shots and a poor cab driver had to cope with the aftermath. (For a while I worked in a club; if the smell of this alcohol cropped up while I was doing bar inventory or clearing a register I would have to instantly dart away)
The same fragrance being worn by masses of the population at the same time also end up on the, “Pee-you list.”During the 80’s and early 90’s it was Drakkar Noir. During the mid to late 90’s this was Issey Miyake and CK One. People at SUNY FIT, where I went to college would bathe themselves in this stuff and then head to class.
Why would anyone want to smell like everyone else? Fragrance should be such a personal thing. Sephora, the beauty retailer actually ranks the top selling perfumes in their stores with numbers. Coco Chanel once said, “In order to be irreplaceable one must always be different.” Weird that I have chosen to quote the women whose last name is on the bottle of something that is a running joke among family. I quote her because she was a fashion icon. I steer clear of Sephora’s 1-10 and choose that which pleasant to me, which tend to be perfumes that are floral and vibrant. (Stella in Two Peony by Stella McCartney and Nannette Lepore are beautiful to me personally)
In closing….
Pour l'Homme, pour les Dames, ne pas verser sur votre parfum.
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