…I easily imagine this perfume floating in the wake of a tall, slender brunette, whose moves are confident, who voice is accustomed to giving orders, and who fingers are slightly darkened by tobacco. She is one of those women who always wears a suit, even at midnight at the Savoy; one of those women captivating to watch at the casino in Monaco, who after having lost a sum of money, takes bills and a money order from a love letter hidden in her fine leather handbag, where they have taken on a pungent, slightly wild odor, and with great calm throws them on the green baize of the gaming table.
In her review of Chanel Cuir de Russie, Angela hoped the writer of this 1936 publicity text went on to a career as a novelist. In any case, author Kathleen Tessaro paints a worthy past for this Cuir-scented brunette with The Perfume Collector…
