Karma + Hubris
from 02/10/2025, by uni â 5m read
Recently, I've been getting into perfumery - a world where scent takes center stage and, conveniently, another outlet to burn money. After some initial research, I landed on a safe blind buy: Bleu de Chanel Eau de Parfum. It's fresh, smells like grapefruit, and works for any occasion. Even if you're not deep in the fragrance scene, you've probably heard of Chanel No. 5 (1921), the perfume that cemented the fashion house as an icon.
That success led to an interesting business arrangement. Théophile Bader, founder of the Galeries Lafayette department store, introduced Coco Chanel to the Wertheimer brothers, Pierre and Paul. The brothers, already well-established as directors of Bourjois, another perfume house, saw an opportunity. They struck a deal: they would handle the production, marketing, and distribution of Chanel No. 5 under Parfums Chanel, a new entity formed in 1924. The terms? The Wertheimers would own 70%, Bader 20%, and Chanel herself a mere 10%, licensing her name to the brand.
As Parfums Chanel flourished, Chanel grew resentful of the deal. She believed she had been shortchanged, especially as the perfume became a global best-seller. But her grievances would take a darker turn during World War II.
During the German occupation of Paris, Chanel took up residence at the HĂŽtel Ritz - the same hotel that served as the headquarters of the Nazi military. She became romantically involved with Baron Hans GĂŒnther von Dincklage, a high-ranking German intelligence officer. Through him, she was introduced to Theodor Momm, a former army comrade who oversaw French textile production for the Third Reich.
Momm saw Chanel as useful. Her social ties to Winston Churchill and Hugh Grosvenor, the 2nd Duke of Westminster, made her an asset for Nazi diplomatic maneuvering. The Nazis attempted to use her connections in a mission called Operation Modellhut, aimed at brokering a separate peace with England. It failed.
But Chanel had her own ambitions. Knowing the Wertheimer brothers were Jewish, she sought to use Nazi anti-Semitic laws to reclaim full control of Parfums Chanel. The Nazi regime was systematically seizing Jewish-owned businesses, and she saw an opening to take what she believed was rightfully hers.
What she didn't anticipate was that the Wertheimers had already outmaneuvered her.
Anticipating the Nazi rise to power, the Wertheimer family had fled to the United States in 1940, transferring ownership of Parfums Chanel to FĂ©lix Amiot, a non-Jewish business associate. This move protected their assets from Nazi confiscation.
Chanel, undeterred, appealed to Nazi authorities to seize the company and return it to her, but the plan failed - since Amiot, not the Wertheimers, technically owned it.
After the war, Amiot returned Parfums Chanel to the Wertheimers, who retained control. They continued to expand the brand, and today, the Wertheimer family still owns Chanel.
There's also speculation that Winston Churchill played a role in shielding Chanel from post-war prosecution. Some believe she had compromising information on British royals, particularly King Edward VIII, whose fascist sympathies were well-documented. The revelation that certain aristocrats were cozying up to Nazis while their country was being bombed would've been⊠problematic.
Luxury is a strange thing. It's just packaging, a name, an image - and yet, it dictates everything. You can have the finest ingredients, the best craftsmanship, but without the right branding, it's worthless. Meanwhile, something mediocre can be sold as high-end if the right name is attached.
Coco Chanel understood this better than anyone.
That's why she fought so hard to reclaim Parfums Chanel from the Wertheimers. She knew that without her name, the perfume was just scented alcohol in a fancy bottle. And yet, despite all her schemesâincluding leveraging Nazi lawsâshe lost.
The Wertheimers didn't just survive her betrayal; they won in a way that feels almost surreal. The company she tried to steal from them is now theirs forever. A Nazi-affiliated business, built on her vision, now belongs to the very people she sought to erase from it.
And what's even funnier? None of this history matters to most people.
No one buying Chanel No. 5 today thinks about Coco conspiring with the Nazis. No one spraying on Bleu de Chanel wonders if the profits would make her roll in her grave. The Wertheimers understood the great trick of luxury: brand is everything, and everything else is secondary.
She lost control of her own empire, died alone, and left behind a brand that thrives without her. Meanwhile, the Wertheimers turned Chanel into a multi-billion-dollar dynasty. And the world keeps buying, because the logo still means something.