The Pierre Benard Challenge Continued: Coppertone

For every Baby Boomer who grew up near a beach there is one scent which will immediately conjure childhood summers: Coppertone. Coppertone was the leading suntan lotion/sunscreen throughout the 1960’s and 70’s. As far as I can tell it remains #1 in 2020. Which makes me wonder if it will be as indelible to the current generation.

My first memories of going to the beach was as a five-year old. We made the short drive out to Cape Florida State Park. I was ready to go. I wanted to run into the crashing surf. Before that could happen, my mother took out the brown plastic bottle of Coppertone and applied it all over my exposed skin. Putting an extra layer on nose and cheekbones. I share the experience with millions who grew up in this time.

I have read that Coppertone spent a lot of time refining the scent of their product. To find something which would mask the chemical smell of what performed the protective reason for wearing it. What they settled on was an orange blossom focused accord. The interesting part is the chemical part blends with that to form something still pleasant while being completely unique. The smell of Coppertone was part of my wardrobe for most of my life in S. Florida. In a lot of ways it felt like a more solid version of the Florida Water which scented our home. I should probably consider making Coppertone the answer to the question of what my first fragrance was.

It is such a unique scent, perfume has not allowed it to pass by. There are two that I own which capture it dead to rights. One is Bobbi Brown Beach where perfumer Claude Dir also mixed in a healthy dose of Calone to put some sand and surf into the bottle.

CB I Hate Perfume Day at the Beach 1966 is the closest to capturing that childhood memory I have. Perfumer Christopher Brosius’ Coppertone accord is so good it feels photorealistic. He chooses to create his beach accord without relying on Calone which makes it closer to what I remember.

There are few scents which can immediately call to mind a specific product. Coppertone is hard wired into my memory of the beach.

Mark Behnke

Under the Radar: CB I Hate Perfume Burning Leaves- Autumn Evenings

There is a type of perfume which attempts to capture a natural scent not in abstract ways but as a photorealistic composition. One of the most accomplished perfumers at doing that is Christopher Brosius. At the beginning of the niche perfume expansion he helped create this, first at Demeter before founding his own line in 2004; CB I Hate Perfume. The name is Mr. Brosius’ succinct raison d’etre. He has created over forty perfumes which do not smell like what most people think is perfume. Over the past few years he has not been as visible as he was. One of my favorite perfumes by him is Burning Leaves which I bring out every October.

On the website Mr. Brosius tells of his distaste of autumn raking as a child. The silver lining was the burning of the leaves after they were finished. Watching them go up in flames while breathing in the smoke is what is captured in the bottle.

Christopher Brosius

What has always impressed me about these photorealistic perfumes by Mr. Brosius is they are constructed in such a complete fashion. Manty perfumes in this style allow you to feel the assembly of the accord as the different pieces fit together. Almost all of Mr. Brosius’ perfumes come out pre-assembled while maintaining their cohesion throughout the time on my skin.

In Burning Leaves that means a couple of things. First this is burning leaves not burning wood. That means a lighter scent of smoke. Not the cade oil sledgehammers you find in other smoky fragrances. It also means the leaves we are burning are maple leaves. Mr. Brosius adds in a thread of sweet dried leaves before they catch fire. There is an intriguing mixture of intensity and fragility throughout the time I am wearing Burning Leaves.

Burning Leaves has 6-8 hour longevity and wears close to the skin with little to no sillage. Burning Leaves comes in a water-based formulation. It generally has the effect of making these perfumes last a shorter time on my skin while also limiting projection.

Mr. Brosius is one of our most gifted independent perfumers. There isn’t anyone who does what he does in fragrance. If you haven’t discovered his perfume you are in for a treat. They definitely deserve to be on your radar. Burning Leaves is a great place to start.

Disclosure: This review is based on a bottle I purchased.

Mark Behnke

New Perfume Review CB I Hate Perfume M6 Do Not Ask Me Why- Opium Den

One of my favorite movies is Sergio Leone’s 1984 release “Once Upon a Time in America”. In the director’s cut version of the movie the lead character Noodles played by actor Robert De Niro retreats to an opium den after a tragedy. The final shot of the movie is of Noodles in that opium den with a smile on his face. One interpretation of the movie is everything we see in the movie from the point Noodles starts puffing on the pipe is his hallucination. The power of opium to inspire artistic endeavors is well-known. Perfumer Christopher Brosius was fascinated with how opium while destructive to the person using it might also inspire an open creativity. Jean Cocteau struggled with an addiction to opium throughout the 1920’s and that experience would inform much of his output for the rest of his life.  In the press materials Mr. Brosius asks the obvious question: “Why would an artist choose so destructive a medium to enable such visions no matter how fabulous or sublime? Why is a poet compelled to write or an artist to create? Cocteau himself best answered that question in the subtitle of his final work: Do not ask me why.” Mr. Brosius wanted to make a perfume which captures the reportedly “hauntingly beautiful” smell of opium smoke and it is the sixth entry in the Metamorphosis series M6 Do Not Ask Me Why.

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Christopher Brosius

Mr. Brosius is at his best as a perfumer when he chooses to try and interpret something as unusual as opium smoke. M6 Do Not Ask Me Why works as a simple construction of narcotic white flowers over spice and smoke. If opium smoke does carry a floral scent to it, and neither I nor Mr. Brosius has experienced the real thing, using white flowers seems almost logical. I refer to the depth of many of these as narcotic all the time. It is because they are strong but also mesmerizing in the way they display unseen levels beneath the obvious floralcy. By using a grouping of white flowers the central floral accord is never identifiable as just one. Instead it forms something it is difficult to tear your attention away from. I think that there is jasmine, narcissus, and tuberose in this accord. There might be more but this is what I think I detect. Mr. Brosius has balanced whatever the notes used so well it seems supernatural, almost its own opium dream of a hallucinatory flower. The remaining notes are a very ephemeral foundation of smoke and spice. After having this on my skin for a few hours like intermittent puffs the spicy smoke glides across the florals only to seemingly disappear again. Only very late in the development do they have enough presence to stick around on a more permanent basis.

M6 Do Not Ask Me Why as a water perfume has 8-10 hour longevity and average sillage.

Mr. Brosius has lived up to his self-imposed goal of making a “hauntingly beautiful” floral perfume. I don’t know if this is what opium smoke really smells like. I only know that this is something I do want to smell like. Do not ask me why.

Dsiclosure: This review was based on a sample I purchased.

Mark Behnke

New Perfume Reviews CB I Hate Perfume Rare Flowers Narcissus, Jasmine Sambac, and Tuberose- Soliflores Unplugged

2014 will be a year of change for perfumer Christopher Brosius and his CB I Hate Perfume brand. The biggest change is a change of location; still in Brooklyn and a little further east. Mr. Brosius has been busy getting everything back together in the new shop but not so busy that there isn’t something new to try.

The first releases of 2014 are a collection of six soliflores called Rare Flowers. Mr. Brosius says about the collection, on his website, “In all fairness, I cannot claim responsibility for these fragrances. Nature provided these gems. I merely polished and set them.” The concept is each one is a single floral absolute which has been isolated by enfleurage or solvent-extraction. Both of these processes are lengthy efforts requiring patience and skill to pull off. What has ended up in each bottle is a soliflore which allows the wearer rare insight into the floral notes they might think they know so well. For me the most illuminating experience came from three of them: Narcissus, Jasmine Sambac, and Tuberose. These are among my favorite floral notes and the opportunity to try them on their own opened my nose to nuances I hadn’t previously been aware of.

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Christopher Brosius

Narcissus is probably second only to violet as my personal favorite floral fragrance. Narcissus is the keynote of many of my very favorite perfumes and this was the Rare Flower I was most excited to try. What I smelled at first was damp earth. I almost thought someone had switched bottles with Mr. Brosius’ Dirt he did for Demeter. This was not what I expected. The soft green quality that seemed to come next was what I expected as it is that quality of narcissus I like so much when part of a perfume. By itself the green is more astringent but the softness is apparent the longer it stayed on my skin. It eventually matures into its full floralcy and that is the narcissus I am most familiar with.  

Jasmine Sambac is a very familiar, and ubiquitous note, in perfumery. I personally like it when it is at its most natural with the “dirty” smelling indoles allowed to contrast with the sweetness of the bloom. This Rare Flower is all that I just described as the skanky indoles swagger off my skin before the beautiful floral quality catches up. But instead of the freshness taking over a natural balance is struck and both co-exist in a twitchy harmony. Jasmine Sambac was the most like wearing a perfume as there was a real sense of development to this on the days I wore it. 

If when I say “Tuberose” your answer is “Eek!” it is not surprising because it is the keynote of some of the bawdiest white floral perfumes on the market. When I smelled the Rare Flower Tuberose I think I expected this olfactory explosion but I got exactly the opposite. Tuberose comes off so very restrained in this form. I have always thrilled to the mentholated quality tuberose has in those perfumes where it is featured and in this soliflore that quality is here but it carries a fragility to it that was wholly unexpected. The same goes for the rest of the experience as Tuberose as a Rare Flower is much more of a wallflower requiring you to come draw her out to discover her pleasures.

The experience of smelling the Rare Flowers collection reminded me of the old MTV show “Unplugged” where an artist would perform their songs acoustically stripping away all of the sound effects and leaving the listener to consider the real heartbeat of the music. In the case of Narcissus, Jasmine Sambac, and especially Tuberose I have listened to their heartbeat through an olfactory stethoscope. It will make me consider them differently the next time I encounter them in the body of a fragrance.

Disclosure: This review was based on samples from CB I Hate Perfume.

Mark Behnke

Editor’s Note: for those in the New York City area the Grand Opening of the new CB I Hate Perfume Studio will take place Saturday April 26, 2014 from 2-6PM at 318 Maujer St, Brooklyn, NY. If you go to the new studio everything will be 10% off that day, only in store.