Like many others, I was attracted to the myths and drawn by the lofty bids that this 91-year-old grand dame drew whenever it made an appearance in auctions,such that a growing desire for the unattainable took root deep within.
After seeing a two-thirds full 2 oz sealed bottle go for $222 in August, I decided I was going to try to get the same type of vintage extraits slightly cheaper, if that was even possible.Simultaneously, the attractiveness of the unique heart-shaped stopper flacon,which vaguely resembled an Oriental temple, grew on me as well.
Later that month,I woke up between 5 am and 6 am to stalk an auction of a tiny 1/4 oz bottle of parfum from the '80s, and managed to stave off eight other bidders to secure bottle and box for $56.
When I was more aware of the role of Providence in determining eBay prices, I hunted down another 1/4 oz bottle, sans box, from England for $27.
But I was to get a preview with the purchase of a slender 1 oz bottle of eau de toilette from the same decade: it was a bright effervescent peach at the outset, with great lasting potency to boot.
Soon after, I received the first bottle of parfum and was enraptured with the drier bitterer peach note that was accompanied by a foresty dampness that took me by surprise!
Other than the opening and the heart, the parfum surprised me yet again with a faint drydown that I had to bring my nose in for a landing to detect at all.
Underwhelmed as I was by the drydown, I still felt motivated to hunt down further bottles of the extrait,while learning from Guerlain enthusiast Ulrik Thomsen's website that even different bottles from the same era could differ in character due to the tendency of vetiver and oakmoss to degenerate faster than other ingredients.
Although the two tiny bottles agreed with each other in colour, aroma and longevity, another large bottle had a slightly sour-bitter tang to the greener juice while my last bottle had a deep brown perfume which smelt like something in between the previous two batches.
The latest bottle was delivered by the mailman just after I stumbled upon the most moving classical piece I have heard in years: Schubert's Andante con moto 2nd movement in his brilliant 5th Symphony.
The music seemed to epitomise the character of Mitsouko: a quiet but impressive initial impression that drew you in irrevocably because it seemed to be relating a tale whose words could only be surmised,never known.Delving into minor keys, the symphony seemed to signify darkness, just as Jacques Guerlain's masterpiece seemed to evoke a walk through the interior of an impenetrable jungle.
Yet, the former would resume its benign, reassuring coda as much as the latter would warm on the skin. The captivating oboe and flute duets and counterpoints to the orchestra built on the inherent mystery already threaded into the bare bones by the composer,just as the C-14 aldehyde's soft duet with spices and moss leads me to something inherently inscrutable in Mitsouko:the actual notes in the perfume.
Schubert's composition is rather shy and pensive in comparison with the rest of his 5th Symphony, just as Mitsouko plays her cards(and notes) close to the chest.
Yet another similarity is the specialness and restrained grandeur one feels while listening to this movement,akin to the elegance and dignity of wearing Mitsouko(for me at least).
The nostalgic turn in the music also reflects the nostalgia one may experience when sniffing the fragrance for decades past,when the world was poised between two World Wars that would claim the lives of many.
I'm not sure if I'm stretching my imagination too avidly with this comparison, but the more I think about it, the more serendipitious the juxtaposition of my accidental discovery of this long forgotten piece with the receipt of the latest bottle seems.
The scent has a certain resolute poise that I imagine the heroine in Claude Farrère's novel La Bataille must have maintained while being torn by conflicting loyalties. To me, Mitzi is also the epitome of solitude,for it is unlike almost every other scent, and it's quirkiness sets it apart from all other 'greats' as well as lesser creations.
It is lonely at the top indeed.
That said, I have read too much about how modern post-2006 reformulations have mutilated this beauty beyond recognition. Yet, I understand Guerlain's argument that it was merely one of the many occasions since the almost unimaginably ancient date of 1919 when this aging lady has been reorchestrated in light of availability of ingredients as such. I'm also glad that some hackles raised by followers of Luca Turin have galvanised the venerable house into action to redress the issue somewhat with the attempted restoration.
Returning to my discussion on the vintage versions, some diehard fans claim that the original Mitzi wears you, and not the other way around.
I would instead assert that she wraps around the wearer like a well-worn fur coat, and enraptures with her embrace.
1 ml vials of vintage Mitsouko extract are available at $18.99 per vial + shipping.E-mail zirdex@yahoo.com.sg to receive a Paypal invoice.
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