COLETTE – Collection of eleven autograph letters on the pleasures of the senses.

Sidonie Gabrielle Colette , known as COLETTE (1873-1954)

A collection of eleven autograph letters signed to Maurice Carrère.

Including a letter dictated by Colette.

Eleven pages in quarto and nine pages in octavo (two decorated with collages with floral motifs)

Slnd [1945-46]

« "The last drop of Corsican jasmine having left me, I am once again forced to consume yours in indecent quantities."

Charming correspondence relating to the perfumes created by his friend Carrère and to the pleasures of the senses heightened by tea, rum and port.

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I. “Dear Maurice, I didn’t know so much ‘black’ could be so dazzling! My joy is tinged with a little remorse at the thought that, because of me, you might be feeling down. From under my covers, I extend my old, chilly, and grateful paw. Won’t I see you before the 28th (Hélène Morhange’s talk)? I can guarantee you an exceptionally interesting text by this friend and interpreter of Ravel, and Jean-Michel Damase—sixteen years old—is a prestigious virtuoso. Allow me to tell you that by rearranging your afternoons, you would achieve a truly remarkable success. We absolutely must talk about it; the sooner the better. Dear Maurice, I embrace you with a very affectionate heart, and Maurice sends his warmest regards. I hope the cats are well! Colette. Damn human weakness!” All it took was for you to give me that excellent tea for me to start drinking tea again – not every day, but often!

II. "Dear Maurice, I don't have many means of revenge at my disposal: I send you my 'Embroidery', and all the friendship of Maurice and Colette."

III. “Dear Maurice, how is the second perfume coming along? I long to taste it. I’m confined—oh! a little longer, a little less…—having caught a cold. I’m working. Well, nothing much to report. But please give me news of you. Already guilty of making me love tea again, you’ve made me love port again. It’s true that the latter would convince even the most reluctant. My beloved Maurice is still recovering from a cold. And… we married Pauline! Would you be so kind as to have the first passerby (try to be that passerby!) deliver a little Carrère perfume to me? The last drop of Corsican jasmine having left me, I am once again forced to consume yours in indecent quantities, so that neither my home, nor I, nor my sofa, nor my wardrobes smell of confinement, illness, or above all… the Palais Royal! Thank you. Dear Maurice, we embrace you with tender affection. Colette.” »

IV. “Dear friend, what a pleasant midday! Maurice’s cold has, as a result, receded. Your speaker phoned me to express her joy at her success. I can’t help but think of your very kind offer of… fuel. As I hate it when my friends put themselves at risk for me, I implore you—should you succeed—to be careful with the delivery. Maurice will soon have a tiny car, and he could very well go and collect the precious commodity in small quantities. For I greatly fear that the charming Simone Berriau, very busy with many things, has forgotten that she spoke to me about anthracite… Dear friend, your old friend sends you her love, and Maurice shakes your hand affectionately. Colette.”

V. “Dear Maurice, the bottle is charming. Finally, a truly feminine bottle, inspired by an era I love. The perfume also seems perfect: a little drier, a little less sweet! Am I mistaken? Thank you to all the Maurices, and to an Yves I don't yet know? The little one has left for Curemonte first, then for the midday. But you know all that! And since I'm feeling better, though not quite well, we're leaving to applaud Moreno at the Athénée in the morning; Jouvet is kind enough to send for me. Now you know everything—and also that we are both your friends who love you and send you our love. Colette.”

VI. "I was furious last night. You all dined right under my nose, under my flu's nose (and Baby's), and you didn't even come up my flight of stairs! I'm fining you with a visit, and a perfume that prevents my home and me from smelling like the Old Lady with the Flu. That's all I have to say. And I kiss you, but rather firmly. Colette."

VII. “So many bottles, dear Maurice! The rum bottle is a marvel—both container and contents. We just treated ourselves, both of us, to one of those grogs… Thank you for everything. Pauline is about to celebrate her first fortnight of marriage, to your health! Colette, yours, is working like a horse—no joke. But it's mainly for the benefit of Fraternité , which gives her beans. It's a shame. A beautiful issue of Vogue , with a lovely article and a beautiful two-page portrait of her. Yes, about the house, if you didn't call it that at all? It will be 'the country house,' and that's quite enough. Oh! Yes, a luncheon by the fire! We're looking for a car. But… I'm waiting for you, we're waiting for you. We send you our warmest regards. And one… for the eminent composer Leibowitz! Yours, Colette.”

VIII. “Dear Maurice, I received a very fine trinket. The bottle and the glazed box are charming. What’s even better is the contents of the bottle. ‘Vent fou’ has a lovely, old-fashioned scent which—to my nose—is a great merit. I would like to see you more often, but at the moment, besides arthritis, it’s work that keeps me busy (Complete Works). So… Denise Bourdet tells me that Germaine Beaumont has sold one of her houses? The old woman doesn’t write to me. Dear Maurice, thank you. Maurice and I are your friends with all our hearts. Colette.”

IX. "My dear Maurice, you are nothing but a this and a that. We never see you anymore, and I don't have a single drop of 'Signature' left to perfume my home and myself. I kiss you with great cold dignity and we await you. Colette."

X. "Another bottle of eau de toilette!!! My dear Maurice, you're far too extravagant to get rich! Yet your old friend persists in wishing you a thousand blessings, including the most material ones. I'm still suffering constantly, and I'm placing my hopes at the moment in a Swiss doctor who is due to come to Paris. We'll see. These three words constitute a very honorable motto for me. You are a sweetheart, and we both send you our warmest regards. If you would like to remind your family of me and their affection, you will give your old friend great pleasure. Colette."

XI. “Happy New Year, dear Maurice. I waited to send these greetings until the crowds of well-wishers had passed. And also until 46 was definitely here. People are generally imprudent enough to start sending New Year's greetings before they're even sure we're actually going to change years, which risks making them look utterly ridiculous, in case the government up above decides at the last minute that it's still 45 that's continuing. Which clearly demonstrates human thoughtlessness. And my remarkable perspicacity. If these bunches of potatoes arrive rotten—as I'm being told here—you'll have to blame the unusual warmth of this January, the post office, and tell me. That way, next year I'll send you onions, or potatoes,—or truffles. I kiss you with all my heart. Colette. PS. I'm off to the south now. And I'll be back at the end of January.”

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Owner of a cabaret restaurant, decorator, show organizer, Maurice Carrère launched his first perfume, "Signature", in 1946.