Le Numéro Cinq by Molyneux (1925)

It's happened to everyone who loves vintage perfume. You're on a perfume forum, or reading about perfume, and some lucky bastard recounts the story of how they just happened to stumble upon a rare vintage masterpiece — say, an Iris Gris or Djedi — sealed and in pristine condition. Oh yeah, did they mention it yet? For $10. Damn you, you say under your breath. Why doesn't this ever happen to me?!

I'm here to tell you it can. Before you start gritting your teeth, narrowing your eyes, and involuntarily balling your hands into fists, relax — I didn't stumble upon a perfume so rare you can't find one eBay. I did stumble, however, on a vintage jewel that turns out to have a fascinating perfume history. Before I get into all that, the tale:

My best friend Galadrielle's mother Donna called me this morning and told me her friend Julie had a beautiful bottle of Arpège extrait with an atomizer, NIB (new in box). I went down to Julie's gorgeous store and was thrilled to buy it for less than a bottle of Kerastase shampoo.

Poking around the back, amid turn-of-the-century photo albums, weird lotions/potions, and vintage knick-knacks, I found — tucked in the corner of a wooden box — a micro-mini bottle of perfume still in its clear plastic container: Le Numéro Cinq de Molyneux.

I'd heard of Molyneux, but had never sniffed any of their perfumes. Excited to make a blind purchase and go down the inevitable research path, I paid for my Arpège and Le Numéro Cinq. I paid two dollars for this lovely thing, dear reader. Please don't hate me!

I couldn't wait to get home and try it, but the tiny gold lid was sealed onto the top, making it difficult to open. Galadrielle/McGyver wrapped a rubber band around it, giving it traction, and off it went. I grabbed it, dabbed the dark juice onto my wrists and took a whiff. Wowee! Cinq was fruity, spicy, vanilla-amber-warm and intensely beautiful.

Like any sleeping beauty awoken after a long slumber, Le Numéro Cinq was a little wobbly at the beginning. The top notes lurched out in an almost anisic/licorice-y screech, but just as quickly settled into the primary character of the perfume. (I'm guessing bergamot and aldehydes were top notes.) The rest (and this is just a guess) was: sweet, from fruit and florals, maybe plum and orange blossom or ylang-ylang; warm, perhaps from amber, benzoin/labdanum, vanilla and according to Luca Turin, iris/orris *) and spicy, (still guessing) from sandalwood, oakmoss, and patchouli or carnation.

Most places I look, Le Numéro Cinq is categorized as a floral fruit chypre, but Luca Turin in an old blog post calls it "the only example I know of an iris Oriental." Some perfumes straddle category lines, but in its heavy spicy sweetness, LNC does seem to fit the Oriental category better. It is beautiful and come-hither in a very unsubtle way, and has nothing of a chypre's reserve and good manners. (Think, Tabu, but on a particularly drunk and amorous night!) This is definitely a "come up and see me sometime" perfume.

Stewed fruit and indolic flowers rest on a vanillic and ambery-spicy base kissed with orris. This is Chanel No. 5's darker, more complex cousin — the one who went to art school while Chanel No. 5 went to finishing school. Louche Winona to perfect Gwyneth.

I mention Chanel No. 5 only because Le Numéro Cinq is often called "the other number 5." Lore has it that Edward Molyneux (1891 - 1974), an English fashion designer who started the Molyneux couture house in Paris, made a pact with Coco Chanel in 1921 to make a "Number 5" perfume. As both perfumes launched, so the story goes, they would see which one became more successful. (The other explanation of their similar names comes from Nigel Groom in The Perfume Handbook. Groom says that Molyneux named his perfumes after Molyneux's different addresses: 3, 14 and 5.)

Whichever story is correct, we all know which perfume became successful, and which one had to change its name. Le Numéro 5 became Le Parfum Connu ("the known perfume"), languished in obscurity (ironically enough, given the re-name), and was discontinued in the late '60s or early '70s. * *

Finds like this one keep my perfume lust alive. Not only did this tiny bottle hold an amazing fragrance, surprisingly intact and vibrant after 80-something years, it led me to a fascinating story. Magnificent.

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* About iris/orris: Here's an interesting link about it on Basenotes. Usually if iris is mentioned with respect to perfume, they are referring to the use of iris's dried and incredibly expensive roots: orris. Some common descriptors, as one commenter reminds us, are "violets, carrots, powder, and lipstick..."

Here's what OsMoz has to say about iris: "Native to the Far East, symbol of Mediterranean culture, iris has a 'powdery, green-woody, violet' scent. Iris absolute, also known as orris, is produced from the plant’s roots, or rhizomes. It is one of the most expensive products in the perfumer’s palette, so it is used in prestige perfumes only." And this "Iris's treasure is hidden away in its roots (or rhizomes), which need to reach at least three years of age before they are pulled up, stored and dried for another three years. The rhizomes can then be crushed and steam-distilled to produce a solid essential oil known as iris butter, which turns into iris essence after purification. This veritable olfactory treasure chest contains a significant quantity of irones, the substances responsible for iris’s woodsy, powdery aroma that is in such demand. Iris is luxury incarnate."

* * Here's Luca Turin's fascinating take on what it might mean if Le Numéro Cinq was in fact created in 1921: "Assuming the fragrance wasn’t changed, the uncertainty about its age then becomes as exciting as the discovery of an Egyptian mummy clutching an iPod. 1921 is when the first oriental, Coty’s Emeraude, came out. 1925 is the birth date of its famous successor Shalimar. If Molyneux’ 5 dates from 1921, perfume history needs to be rewritten. If it dates from 1925, then both it and Shalimar were copying Emeraude, and the question is: why did Molyneux’ line die out ? Maybe the joke backfired, and everything would have been different if Captain Molyneux had said 'Numéro Six.' "

* * * Photo from Le Savoire Faire blog.

Comments

[Flora]

Oh, lucky you! I have a fascination with the "disappeared" Molyneux scents, I hope I get that lucky one day!

I adore Quartz, or at least I did - I understand that the reworked "Quartz Femme" is a mere shadow of the beloved original, which can still be found if you look around. I want to smell Vivre very badly, because it's supposed to be a fruity Chypre, and I imagine it to be somewhat like Houbigant's Essence Rare, one of my all time faves.

[Cheryl]

WOWZA. The motherload. I've been trying to get my hands on this one....and worried that it's not all that. But it sounds like all that! This sounds like pure heaven or pure beauty or pure joy or something!!!!
Cheryl

[Perfumaniac]

Hi Cheryl. I kind of can't believe I found this little thing just sitting in a corner. Like I said, you hear people talk about that, but when it happens...I think the thing that makes me happiest about this is that a tiny little bottle can hold so much beauty in reserve. I doubt this thing had ever been opened until I opened it. Pretty extraordinary to think so. A bit evaporated (understandable given the 80-odd years it took to get to me!) but it was sexy, fun, and compelling. I wish I could share it, but I have so little. Maybe a decant from TPC? Or someone who's lucky enough to have a huge bottle?And there's always eBay...;)

[Perfumaniac]

I've said it before, Flora, and I'll say it again. So many perfumes, so little time! Now I'm on a search for Molyneux fragrances AND Houbigant? Sigh...

[Anne]

Goodness, lucky you! Still, I don't think that finds like this - and I've gritted my teeth plenty of times at stories like this - are just a matter of luck. It's also about persistence and curiosity, and willingness to poke that little bit deeper. So well done you!

I've had two lucky vintage finds: a few mls of Shalimar EDC in one of the round bottles with the pointy stopper ($6); and about 5 mls of vintage Miss Dior in one of those old 10 ml minis (.50c). Both times, when I've opened them up for the first time, they did smell - frankly - rather awful. Of course I expected that and knew to wait a few minutes for them to settle, and both turned out to be beautiful in the end. But the funny thing is that as I've kept using them, that alarming stewed nail polish smell that I got the first time seems to have lessened. Sometimes I wonder if there was a build up of gas inside the empty bit of the bottle, which was released when I first opened them. After all, it could have been years, in both cases, since they were opened. Or maybe I'm just imagining it? How have you found your Numero Cinq?

Anyway, thanks for the post.

[mary]

Coucou ! Pas trop le temps de te lire mais merci aussi.

[Perfumaniac]

Hi Anne! Numero Cinq is amazing. It makes Tabu seem timid! I definitely want to have more of that kind of luck. :)

[Cheryl]

Yes...I know...one day...I will fall upon some treasure such as this. It's interesting re other comments here on the off-smells when you get these oldies. I am always pondering did they intend this back in the day?...thick rank powder?.....and sometimes it metamorphisizes into a beauty...or a difficult beauty..and sometimes stays like an icky cloak of uck.

[Perfumaniac]

Hi Cheryl. The reason why the top notes often smell off in vintage is because theyre the most volatile, lightest notes and most susceptible to damage over time due to heat and light, etc. But as long as the perfume is relatively intact (and my Cinq was) the rest should unfold gorgeously.

[Corrine Bailey]

there is a perfect bottle for sale still in the wrapper on ebay now. Ends on January 26th. Opening bid is £99. Would you consider this good value?
item number 290524207888

[Perfumaniac]

Hi Corrine,

I checked the ad, and I wrote to the seller asking them to remove my review from their auction. I hate it when people use those reviews without asking me!! Aaargh!

As for whether or not the bottle is worth it — it really depends. Have you smelled the original? Do you even like it? Maybe get a decant from the Perfumed Court before you decide. Also, who knows if it's authentic? You'd be taking a risk if this isn't a seller with a good reputation. That's an awful lot of money. If it's authentic, still smells great, and you like it and have the money, yes, it's worth it. Only you can decide! Good luck, and maybe shop around some more... I would.

[Lynn Allan]

I have from my late mother a very large fluted bottle of Eau de Cologne Le Numero Cinq Molyneux Paris. It is full and the glass stopper is wax and string sealed. The cut glass bottle is 3" diameter and 7" tall. How do you put a value on this and who are the likely purchasers?
Lynn