French Cancan by Caron, 1936

I had waited weeks to do an intimate sampling of Caron French Cancan. When a person gets something special like Djedi or vintage En Avion or, in this case, Cancan, it behooves said sniffer to give full focus to the experience. DH & DD are jogging down by the lakefront, and I am alone with a rich perfume. The scent of the juice alone produced two flashbacks, both of which surprised me. Firstly, I was reminded of the smell of our homemade wine, which is aged dry on oak. Very pleasant. The second memory places me near the dime stores I frequented in the '60s. I don't know how, but I must have been exposed to some of the common scents of the day and their now-less-frequently used ingredients, which remain in this sample. Once on the skin, Cancan very much puts me in mind of the dusty carnation in Terra Cotta Voile d'Ete, an association I'd never made before with "drive-by" sniffing of Cancan. Now that I'm into the heart notes, the scent is mellowing and sweetening, which I prefer since the spiciness of carnation is right near my heat tolerance. I'm going to luxuriate now, enjoying my solitude, the air conditioning and Cancan. It is really, really beautiful. Thank you, Kumquat, for these many moments of pleasure I will experience with full mindfullness.

You are sitting at the bar in a small jazz club in Paris, where maybe at some point in the place's now-remote past, a few working gals once did a French CanCan. But the place was renovated a while ago. It's twilight in the spring, and the early flowers are finally here. The piano player flips open a notebook. He starts the intro, laying out a thick carpet of chords. A waitress walks by with a tray. And the singer steps up. He's tired, but in voice, and starts.. "The scene is set for dreaming, love is knocking at the door. But oh my heart, I'm reluctant to start, cause we've been here before..." You are thinking, what song is this? I know this song. But what is it? You order a champagne cocktail, and go back to listening. What is the name of it this song? The singer sounds good, and continues... "The night is like a lovely tune, Beware my foolish heart..." Oh right. Of course. It's My Foolish Heart. How quaint. How romantic.Well, let's see if this guy can pull it off. You stare out the window into the flat blue twilight, wondering, is there a garden around here? The singer's pitch is dead on, and he's sailing over the high notes... "How white the ever constant moon Take care my foolish heart" You wonder, who is this guy? Have I ever heard of him? The wind carries the scent of some night-blooming flowers into the room, so delicate and intoxicating. Jasmine, Ylang-ylang. You remember you're in Europe, not New York, and take a sip from the glass. This guy is killing. He's right in the groove... "There's a line between love and fascination That's hard to see on an evening such as this For they both give the very same sensation When you're lost in the madness of a kiss" And you just start watching him, now more like as a fan, than a critic. And you notice, man, the band is good too. The bass and drums are so solid. Locked in, they are just laying it down. He's at the top again... "Her lips are much too close to mine Take care, my foolish heart" Oh, geez, violets. That's the smell that's blowing in from outside. Are roses is season yet? The singer is smiling at you, so you smile back. "But should our eager lips combine Then let the fire start" And patchouli. You notice your face is flushed, maybe from the alcohol. But this band is so good it's embarassing. Baby powder is wafting up at you from inside your shirt. You glance around. The room filled up quickly. The piano player tosses out the last eight bars, and the singer drives them home. "For this time it isn't fascination Or a dream that will fade and fall apart It's love, this time it's love My foolish heart" And you wonder what you just experienced, at first you think you might know, but still you can't really describe it. How can such an old song with these goofy lyrics be so alive to you tonight? How can a thing transcend time like that? But what you do know is that it was pretty, and more than that, it made you happy. And you finish the drink, pay the tab, and walk out into the fading light.

(Parfum review)
Actual notes: jasmine, lilac, violet, lily of the valley, rose, orange blossom, patchouli, iris, sandalwood, amber, oakmoss

Cancan unfolds like a night at a club. First you walk in and find yourself alone, and it takes awhile for other patrons to show up. Abruptly, however, jasmine and lily of the valley walk in, with a shaken bottle of champaigne that opens with a BANG and covers you with sticky, sweet bubbly.

this phase i don't like, as the jasmine is too strong for me and in my head I was composing my first Caron epitaph. Around the 1 1/2 hour mark violet and lilac show up, which have the effect of two well heeled ladies that walk in and cause the roudies to settle down.

But they don't stay nice for long. At the two hour mark the 'conversation' turns a bit salicious. I don't know what's causing htis, but the middle phase wears a bit 'dirty' on me, not stinky, but certainly not fresh.

in a strange way the conversation remains interesting, and as the hours pass by i find myself returning to my wrist to satisfy my curiosity. The dry down is best, the opening is trying. As a floral this genre does not appeal to me, but as a Caron it is certainly worthy of the name and reputation.

To love this you have to be a strong Jasmine fan. To appreciate this you have to be a true perfumista. To like this you just have to know how to enjoy a night on the town.