Aromatics Elixir is the mother of all rose-patchouli accords, and also quite a paradox: a wine-hued sillage monster rising from the pristine counters of Clinique. Bernard Chant’s masterpiece manages to pack every powerful essence the scent-free line eschews. But since perfume was considered a remedy as much as an adornment well into the 19th century, the elixir concept clicks with the brand’s “medical” identity. The first advertising made that claim:
“Aromatics Elixir… Performs the role of perfume but goes beyond”, with “…ingredients carefully chosen for their historically renowned effect on the mind and body. Ylang-ylang and oakmoss are included on the basis of the reputation as emollients. A certain rose is there because herbalists have found it toning and astringent. Orange flower because it’s known to be a relaxant. Sandalwood and chamomile because of their historic use in cleanliness. Civet and jasmine because of their classic role in stimulating appeal.”
[Note that oddly, given that this was published in 1972 at the peak of the patchouli craze, the note isn’t put forward.]
Estée Lauder may well be, along with Thierry Mugler (Clarins), the mainstream company that takes perfume most seriously, with hefty budgets and a view to producing original scents rather than following trends. And the 40th anniversary “Perfumer’s Reserve” tribute to Aromatics Elixir, designed to shed new light on its beauty without stripping it of its depth, drives the point home: this is serious, uncompromising perfumery. In fact, the polar opposite of most contemporary rewrites of classics, which tend to morph into musk-laden iFrags.
Laurent Le Guernec of IFF didn’t tack on something pink and frilly to give the scent mall appeal: instead, he went deeper.
Aromatics Elixir Perfumer’s Reserve feels as though it were much older than 40. With prominent incense, myrrh and vetiver, the base could well be 4000 years old. The aldehydic white floral/iris accord harks back to classic perfumery: it acts on the woods and resins much as a fatty, soapy coat of wax would on a piece of antique furniture, enhancing the grain and texture of the materials and making them shine. The tweak brings out Bernard Chant’s signature style – that bitter, aromatic, leathery chypre accord that runs from Cabochard to Aramis, Azurée and Knowing.
What Aromatics Elixir has lost along the way is its trademark, oxygen-sucking sillage: despite the rich materials, and perhaps because of the concentration and presentation (it’s an extrait without an atomizer), the perfume is surprisingly close to the skin. Since Laurent Le Guernec states in the press release that “women who thought the original too potent will find this modern homage alluring”, putting a muffler on Aromatics Elixir was part of the point. The main point being that real perfume, for real perfume lovers, can still happen in the mainstream.