Spritz a fine mist of Chanel No. 5 and you won’t be reminded of a flower. Launched in 1921, the fragrance famously doesn’t evoke one. Rather, one might say it smells like abstract art—a composition beyond nature, a rebellion against the demure (and, frankly, dull) lily of the valley-centric zeitgeist of its time. Instead, it produces an intense hit of powdery, soapy cleanness, which is the result of a lavish dose of aldehydes. To borrow Coco Chanel’s blunt brief to her genius perfumer, Ernest Beaux: It smells like the scent of a woman and nothing else.
However, it’s not a contradiction to say that No. 5 couldn’t be what it is without flowers—most crucially its signature jasmine, and not from just anywhere. The parfum, exactly as it exists today, is…