Women's Perfume Reviews

Chanel Perfume

by Kelly
(USA)

I only wear Chanel Perfume. It’s possible that I’m a perfume snob, but then I tend to be snobby by nature.

I grew up in a small farming town. It was pretty quiet and very much about cows, corn, the weather and dirt. Somehow in the middle of this was me. I was into poetry, black clothes and anything French.

I was such a pain to my parents and a huge embarrassment to my brothers. In return I thought they were all unsophisticated country hicks. I was sure I must have been swapped at birth. Surely I was meant to be raised in a loft in New York or Paris?

One day I was dragging myself along after my mom while she did her errands and we stopped in the local drugstore. While she was chatting and gossiping I found myself reading the labels on the bottles of perfume lined up in a spectacular glass display cabinet.

I’d never taken any notice of this section before because I thought perfume and makeup (other than black eyeliner) was frivolous and not something a serious poet would bother with.

To my amazement, I suddenly realized that nearly all the bottles were French. Unbelievable. Right here in the middle of this dusty, cow infested dump there was a little bit of worldliness and style. I was so excited!

I asked the assistant if I could try some and I think the whole shop just about collapsed in shock. I’m sure half the people in town thought I was simple or backward in some way because I hadn’t really spoken to anyone or made eye contact in years.

I spent ages with the assistant testing the different scents and trying to work out which one I liked. There were a few Givenchy perfumes, Givenchy III and Ysatis, a Guerlain or two, but really I was determined to find a Chanel perfume I liked. Chanel was the height of sophistication, even a poet in a limp black beret could appreciate that.

I was a little disappointed with the Chanel No 5; I’d imagined it would have been a lot more striking than it was. I tried Cristalle and Coco, but in the end it was Chanel No 22 that captured my imagination.

It hit hard and high with the aldehydes, then quickly subsided to a warm wash of white flowers and incense. It was feminine, intelligent and stylish. Confident and self assured. All the things I wanted to be.

I nearly died when I found out how much it cost. Sixteen year old poets don’t earn much.

Mom suggested a few extra chores I could do at home to boost my pocket money and reminded me that I had neighbors in riding distance from home that probably needed a babysitter from time to time…if it wasn’t beneath a poet of my sophistication to work, that is.

It’s funny, but working hard to save the money for my first bottle of Chanel No 22 really changed my life. Maybe it was time anyway, but I lost a lot of the bad feeling I had about the town and came to realize that there was more going on then I had thought there was.

I still had that first bottle of No 22 when I left home to live in New York. I like to think it’s that gorgeous scent that carried me along to explore the world and live a wonderful life.

Anyway, guess what? I’m back living in another small farming town. I have kids and love that they have a taste of the freedom I enjoyed growing up. At least if any of my girls start sighing melodramatically and reciting poetry in French I’ll be able to help them along. And I know just where to buy Chanel Perfume locally!

PS. I meant to write a simple perfume review on Chanel No 22 but I’ve somehow ended up telling you a whole story instead. Sorry about that!