What I Wore: Chanel Coco

December 17, 2011 § Leave a comment

Chanel Coco reminds me of the perfume my grandmother wore when I was little. I doubt she actually wore Chanel–my grandma was raised by a widow during the Great Depression, and you don’t spend a hundred dollars on perfume if you’ve been raised by a widow during the Great Depression. She must have had a knockoff. Still, though, it was close enough that now, whenever I hear the word “perfume,” the first thing that comes to mind is the warm, rich, cinnamon-y rose and jasmine of Chanel Coco. When we went over to her house, I used to sneak into the drawer where she kept her cosmetics and spray it all over myself, somehow hoping every time that nobody would notice.

Although Coco dates back only to the ’80s, alongside epic, overpowering scents like Poison, Obsession, and Opium, it reminds me of an earlier era. Picture the 1940s, big hats and a perfectly tailored skirt suit. Picture the lady reporter in a screwball comedy, matching wits with her colleagues (or ex-husband). Picture the woman who always knows what to say and how to charm people into giving her exactly what she wants.

Chanel is still the pinnacle of perfume to me. The way it smells, the way it looks, the way sunlight streams through the amber liquid in those perfect glass bottles. It doesn’t matter if I’m wearing yoga pants with pizza stains on them and a messy bun–if I spray a little Chanel on my wrists, I feel like a lady.

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