Coco Noir (2012)
by Chanel

Coco Noir (2012) makes sense to a degree, but is still hugely disappointing. The name and bottle graphics imply that Jacques Polge created a darker and more alluring interpretation of his classic Coco Chanel (1984), but what we actually get is a serious non-ozonic "full frutchouli" take on Coco Mademoiselle (2001), which is the furthest possible thing from either a "Noir" concept or a unique variation of Coco, since all the hallmark characteristics of either Coco Chanel or Coco Mademoiselle are all but lost in the transformation. I can understand the thought process, as something like Coco Noir was probably built with fanbases of both "Cocos" in mind, but it leans far too much into the direction of mainstream feminine perfume tropes to really serve either, even if it is a more mature take on Coco Mademoiselle for women who want to move away from the Jolly Rancher candy accord of Mademoiselle and into something more appropriate for evening use. If Coco Mademoiselle was training wheels to eventually move into the original Coco Chanel, Coco Noir is a full-on adult tricycle for those too afraid to ever create their own balance.

The Coco Noir experience begins similarly to Coco Mademoiselle but with the sweet lemon and dayglo lychee replaced with larger amounts of grapefruit for a more adult vibe. Coco Noir is only really "Noir" in these opening moments, as it presents a darker citrus melange with a slightly-indolic bordello rose and jasmine combo, leading into that huge glob of denatured patchouli which anchors the accord. From here, things lighten up with the vanilla, tonka, laundry musk, and that smooth buttery Polge sandalwood compound which lives in everything from Chanel Pour Monsieur Eau de Toilette Concentrée (1989) up through Chanel Allure Homme (1999) and Sycomore Eau de Parfum (2016). I like this patent sandalwood compound of his because of it's "better Mysore through science" sort of aesthetic (although nothing beats the real stuff for sure) but even this perfumer's hallmark note can't save the sheer nasal anathema that is the sweet gummi fruit over bleached patchouli roundness which I find so irritating about the genre. Coco Mademoiselle distracted from this with all its zany tartness, but not so here. This starts dark and a bit alluring, then finishes heavy and annoyingly decadent but without character, like a piece of plain prepackaged cheesecake at a buffet restaurant.

Coco Noir ends up a heavy and semi-cloying scent like most fruitchouli fragrances and therefore best for cool or evening romantic use. If this sort of thing is your bag, then my protests may be in vain, but I really think this is horribly mislabeled. My vote would be to call this "Coco De-Mademoiselled" or "Coco Mallbamboozle" but somehow I think neither of those would have flown past the marketing team. In all honesty, this is just "Mademoiselle for Grownups" and therein loses all its former charm as a silly and sassy reminder of the Y2K period of high-energy fragrances meant to bomb the halls of High School and the dorms of college campuses in a post-90's youth generation tired of grunge. This is the scent of that same generation now approaching middle age and just plain tired from news about capitalist society's collapse into corporate feudalism, a planet dying from climate change, and anti-vaxxers telling us that reviving dead plagues through their uninnoculated spawn is a right. Much like most of this news, and all the choices made by people which led to this awful timeline in which we live, I hate Coco Noir. What a shame too, since this bottle is really sexy in a Robert Piguet sort of way. Two big thumbs way down, but test and see for yourself.