Forget me Not: Cardin de Pierre Cardin

The “Man Who Became a Label”, the “Man Who Sold His Name”, fascinates me, always has. It might not have been Cardin who realized that women who cannot afford couture clothes will buy into the dream of a fashion house’s name by using its make-up products, however it was Cardin who realized that the notion was applicable to just about everything else. He is the man who brought couture into every day life – into the home, the street, even into the pantry. Other fashion houses followed: Versace tea service, anyone? Or perhaps a pillow or throw from Armani Casa? He was the man who took the fall, being expelled from the Chambre Syndicale for bringing Prêt-a-Porter fashion to the masses, but was soon reinstated and Ready to Wear clothes slowly became acceptable. As we know, other fashion houses followed: today we take Prêt-a-Porter for granted, without giving it a second thought. Today the Cardin name is still more important than the man himself, as he himself once stated. Have his daring entrepreneurial skills left a smear on his name? Perhaps. Perhaps Cardin took the fall for all the rest. Just so we can have a Prada LG mobile phone, or perhaps a Dolce & Gabbana Motorola. This irony seems to be completely lost on fashion snobs who still insist that the house sold out years ago, even as every other house is making money out of this man’s daring and vision. When will the fashion world take a bow?

...Merci, Monsieur Cardin. Merci.



The homonymous Cardin perfume launched in 1976 and was the house’s first feminine scent. Even though it is not my favorite Cardin perfume, I decided to feature it in this month’s Forget me Not, because it is indeed, almost, if not altogether forgotten: It is listed in neither the Basenotes database, nor in Osmoz, and I fear it might soon be completely lost in Lethe. (Note: I am reviewing the much rarer parfum concentration, which I own, and as such cannot speak of the more common EdT splash and spray bottles that can still be found at online perfume discounters.) Cardin’s citrusy top notes are ever so slightly damaged by time but this does not result in drama: a fleeting moment of mildly bruised freshness and then it’s all a distant memory. Immediately after the deceptively mild opening, we plunge into a world of dense, raw and sultry essences, which although expertly blended, tend to deliver quite a blow to the nose that is more used to today’s modern, airier, transparent fragrances. Middle and base notes seem to arrive concurrently, building a web of interlaced aromas of erotic blossoms and thick, prodding, musky, mossy nuances. Beautiful roses, manage to remain defiantly tender, even as the unmistakable, sweet darkness of pure ylang-ylang embraces them, along with highly indolic jasmine. If this already sounds overwhelmingly delirious, I dare you to imagine that all the while, our floral notes are also being drenched by the most audacious civet and musk notes. Do you get the picture? Yes, this stuff is intense. An hour or so later, Cardin’s fervor relents. Our bouquet starts breathing more deeply, revealing a beautiful, earthy oakmoss and labdanum base and manages to present a profile that is at once soapy clean and dirty with musk and civet at once. The scent becomes progressively smoother and creamier, bringing to mind Ivoire’s drydown, only better blended, with a slightly more muted oakmoss note which does not demand all of one’s attention. If I had to sum Cardin into one word, it would be perfume-y, just as you’d imagine a vintage aldehydic mossy floral to be. Although it is beautiful, I have to admit it smells quite dated, as well as strangely familiar. Despite the copious amounts of civet and musk in its composition, it doesn’t manage to be quite sexy. It is however, totally worth sniffing for sentimental reasons, for this paints a very accurate picture of many perfumes of its time, as well as for getting a blast of its furious animalic tendencies.

All readers who leave a comment to this entry are automatically entered in a draw for a sample of Cardin Parfum. The draw will be open for a week’s time and winners will be announced next Monday.

Images: www.encyclopedia.com and Author’s Own

Pierre Cardin: Musings and a small Perfume Review (Enigme)

I love Pierre Cardin, whom I consider to be a visionary innovator in the design world, daring and capable. As such, it pains me to write anything less than glowing for one of the creations of this genius who dabbles in everything when it comes to design, and leads the way, opening doors and opportunities for the rest, which will undoubtedly follow in his pioneering steps. Yet, despite my admiration, I must remain impartial and admit that I am not a big fan of Enigme. Nor am I, as a matter of fact, a fan of all the fragrant offerings of the house, even though I wish I were. It would be wonderful to be able to claim that I am seduced by each and every one of them, proving that romantic ideal right – that one can follow a house with devotion, like a proselytized apostle.

Pierre Cardin fragrances are notoriously hard to come across, a fact that has led me to keep six backup bottles of Rose in my closet, just to ease my mind of the fear that I might one day have to do without. (A most unpleasant experience that has occurred in the past, leaving me craving it for years, like an addict) So, it will probably come as no surprise, that when I found myself in Paris, I wanted to visit one of the Pierre Cardin Boutiques on my first day already. Finally, I’d be able to smell all of the fragrances I’d been curious about for years – since the only ones I’d been familiar with thus far were Choc and Rose. The boutique itself was different than other houses I’d visited - darker, quieter, old-fashioned. It was immediately obvious that it is not geared towards a younger, modern clientele like the rest of the houses I have visited, but to a different type of customer: A more mature lady that will make an appointment for a fitting beforehand, or one that will pop in to add one more of the fabulous hats to her collection. If I didn’t know better, I might even think that this was a sign of stale decline – but the house is doing well. I decided to instead be charmed by the more traditional attitude and savor it, like gaining admittance to witness a piece of the past. (A little funny tidbit too: Once I’d made my request inside, that is, to be led to the collection of Cardin perfumes, I was immediately asked: “You want Rose, non?” I still ask myself whether it is immediately obvious that I am a Rose girl, or just that it is expected that the customer will ask for Rose, since even in their minds, it is the best of the lineup. Or perhaps I am being a romantic once again, and the plain fact is that Rose is the most well known female fragrance of the house. Regardless, seeing as I’ll never know, I like to flatter myself by thinking that I am strikingly, obviously, a Rose wearer.) Once before the rotating, peculiar stand that holds the fragrances I found myself excited by some - like the latest additions to the family, Tristan et Yseult- and disappointed by others, like poor Ophelia. I left the boutique quite happy with a bottle of Choc and a sample of Enigme.

Today, while remembering that beautiful sunny day, I am sampling Enigme for the second time. Enigme, released in 1992, debuted as the second male fragrance by the house, exactly 20 years after the release of Pierre Cardin pour Monsieur in 1972. I do not know exactly what the thought process behind the flacon was, but I find it slightly disturbing, as I do –albeit to a lesser extent- the flacon for Centaure. Even though Enigme is not unrefined, by today’s standards it does smell raw and savage. It is a bit as though its release was off the mark by some years, as in many ways it is reminiscent of a typical ‘80s fragrance: Big sillage, big statement, big ego, big everything. Even the fresh top notes seem to be announcing, nay, loudly declaring, the potent virility of the wearer. From the beginning already, this freshness finds itself struggling in a battle it is obviously going to lose from the imminent leather that is going to follow. For a while it manages to conceal its other great opponent, a cloying, yet somehow soft sweetness that is trying to emerge. Then it dies, perhaps for the better too, as I find that freshness is the last thing this fragrance was ever about. It seems to me as though it was always an after-thought, a well-known gimmick for male grooming products the world over. “Good riddance!”, the stronger elements of Enigme proclaim, and as though appeased due to the fact they no longer have to assert their presence over the briskness of their competitors, they too calm down, leaving behind part of their obnoxious character. I find the emerging clove alluring, but by that time I have already given up on this fragrance. ...Then an hour or two later, I lift my wrist to my nose instinctively, as one does when wearing a perfume they are not used to, and find, to my great surprise, something entirely different. Spicy, flowery, woody, softly sweet...it reminds me of an old friend. I don’t really have to think much about it, I know which favorite it has brought to mind almost immediately: Jacomo de Jacomo. I find new respect for Enigme. No, it is not as subtly nuanced as Jacomo, nor as unique. It is not as daring as Jacomo either, for where Jacomo dared to be vergining towards femininity, Enigme is still very much a man’s perfume without the shadow of a doubt. But its transformation is so shocking, I find myself delighted. If it was not so unabashedly retro-macho, I might even begin to like it. And on the right man I probably would. A graying, utterly confident dandy you can’t help but love. A raging heterosexual dandy, that is.

Images courtesy of: www.luggageonline.com and www.1stperfume.com