A Life-Long Dedication to Guerlain: Famous Fans

Among perfume brands of historical lineage, Guerlain proudly stands today as it did in the previous century and the one before it, as one of the necessary pilgrimages of every devoted perfume enthusiats. But some of the perfume lovers who have come into contact with the house have ascertained a durable, unstoppable connection which moves and tantalizes with promise at the same time.

Andree Putman was one such Guerlain devotee. Known to most readers for the 2005 renovation of the flagship store in Paris (with the ceremonial "chandelier" of perfumes, which is now substituted by a newer design) and for her own Preparation Parfumee Andree Putman, a niche fragrance of cult appeal, she remained a lifelong Guerlain customer with a penchant for a particular one of their classics (completely antithetical to her own brand name one, please note!). Here is the quote I unearthed, my heart aflutter with the longing of the all powerful allure of the signature scent.

"I am a woman of two perfumes. At 16 my best friend wore Shalimar. The name fascinated me. I was more L'Heure Bleue. Twenty five years later I opened a small flacon of Shalimar and that friendship has emerged out of its scent. It has never left me since. It counts itself among those perfumes which trail long after you have left. Even if one doesn't smell them on them, they express you so powerfully to others that one shouldn't change them. At home, my children know whether I have been in or out by whether there is the trail of Shalimar floating in the staircase. For that reason alone, I'm attached to it for life."

~cited by Veronique Blamont (1998)

Shalimar: "As Close to Forever as a Perfume Can Go"

My reader Norma re-found for me this retro 1982 commercial for the classic Shalimar by Guerlain. The perfume needs no introduction, but the advertising is giving all the latest upstarts a run for their money: it ignites the imagination by giving hints, but it eschews cliches (how about that splash in the pool?); by conjuring glamour, yes, but not going into ridiculous lengths; by evoking romance, but saying that "forever" is perhaps wishful thinking. A masterful perfume commercial!

Click the link to view it on RetroJunk
(If anyone knows who directed it, please let me know)
The music to which the Shalimar commercial is set to is Frederic Chopin's gorgeous Ballade No. 4 in F minor, Opus 52.

Shalimar Eau Legere, Shalimar Light and Eau de Shalimar: Review,Comparison & History

Why would a legend need modernising? Why would anyone take a mythical perfume such as Shalimar and create lighter versions of it?
The answer is simple and rather alarming on certain levels: the modern young consumer doesn't especially like the original Shalimar by Guerlain. I said "alarming" because the passing of years and change of tastes means a diminished turnover for the product and because it entails tampering with a landmark in the history of perfumery. However surely the presence of flankers (follow-up fragrances that share some common traits with the mother-fragrance in terms of name and design) means that the original fragrance is successful and well-known by reputation. Otherwise it wouldn't make sense commercially!




The Problem of Shalimar: Today's Fickle Times & Young Audiences

Indeed Shalimar presents a difficult problem: its status makes it iconic, but the modern consumer too often perceives it as musty, terribly old-fashioned, with too much "skank" (the term Americans use for heavy, pungent animalic scents, but also for exhibitions of vulgarity by non-ladylike women). Although, as previously discussed, it has been tampered with through the years ~for both reasons of allergens being included in the original formula and unavailability of certain key ingredients~ Shalimar still retains its aura of decadent lack of inhibitions and musky radiation of predatory élan. Therefore Guerlain embarked on an adventure of modernisation.

Historical Efforts to Modernise Shalimar

The first attempt in Shalimar's modernisation was introduced in 2003, created by Mathilde Laurent (who also created the formidable Guet Apens/Attrape Coeur for Guerlain) and was baptised Shalimar Eau Légère. Arguably the name sounds like anathema to hard-core perfumistas everywhere: who has ever thought of a Diet Shalimar? The cornering of an alternative market however proved to be a wise decision and a good move in terms of business stategy: Shalimar Eau Légère appealled to younger women who had only vague recollections of the original or even actually found the original difficult to wear yet were keen to own their own Guerlain piece of history. And it also appealed to a certain Rock n'Roll side of some of us, with its print ads featuring Patti Hansen with her two daughters by husband Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones, Alexandra and Theodora. The setting of boho-chic clothes and luxurious baroque interiors touched a sensitive chord: tradition and modernity could co-exist!

How is Shalimar Light/Eau Legere different than classic Shalimar?
The effervescent composition of Shalimar Eau Légère sidetracks the musky, animalic base in lieu of a lemon-cupcake accord that is deliciously cool, folded into a fluffy vanilla cloud with abstract woody and lightly smoky tonalities. The opening, sustained for several minutes, is refreshing and yummy like so many modern compositions that focus on that accord, with I Love Love by Moschino and Light Blue by Dolce & Gabanna being prominent commercially successful examples. Whether that was at the back of the minds at Guerlain headquarters or not, is debatable.
It certainly smells like a modern fragrance, but at the same time it retains some of the haunting recklessness of the original mysterious beast with its recognizable sweet-ish oriental and sandalwood notes. That could be attested by testimonies of its underlying naughty nature still being perceived by people who have smelled it on my person. The DNA, the pneuma is there but the offspring is its own person and it lends itself to some wonderful wearability on the part of many perfume lovers such as myself.

Comparing Shalimar Eau Legere with Shalimar Light: How to Spot Versions


In what was a business decision when Mathilde Laurent fell out with Jean Paul Guerlain, a rejingled version was issued about one year later and credited to Jean Paul Guerlain. Although the two are very close, the later interpretation is even more restrained and less complex in the base with a lime-like top note that echoes sparkly beverages instead of lemon and bergamot.

This small difference in smell presents a problem of differentiation between batches, since the resulting version is widely known as Shalimar Light, yet it appears that both that name and Shalimar Eau Légère Parfumée appear on the bottle with a line break.

The best way to ascertain which batch you are smelling or buying is looking at the colour: the earlier version is straw-coloured in a bottle with a blue-ish edge along the sides and bottom, while the later version is somewhat bluer.
The fragrance came in a light blue box with a light-golden-beige interlay where the traditional black was, different from the usual Guerlain boxes and featured the name Light on one side and Eau Légère Parfumée on the other.

Neither Shalimar Eau Légère nor Shalimar Light are in production, both being limited editions of Eau de Toilette, but erratic batches of the discontinued fragrances do turn up on Ebay, peripheral stores and discounters from time to time.

The Introduction of Eau de Shalimar, a 3rd Version

Eau de Shalimar is the latest version in the Shalimar flankers stable, introduced in April 2008. Curiously it is attributed to Mathilde Laurent, who however left Guerlain for Cartier 4 years ago. Whether its juice is the same as any of the previous attempts has been the focus of a search for minutiae among perfumephiles who pay attention to every move of their favourite house, myself included.  

Eau de Shalimar seems like a face-lift that has resulted in too attenuated features: there is nary a little frown and that deducts something of the lived-in quality that Shalimar possesses. The rumour of an inferior bergamot essence replacing the vintage ingredient and the shortages on Mysore sandalwood, as well as the lightening of the powdery aspects of coumarin and iris, might account for the effect.

Between the different batches I appreciate the original Shalimar in vintage extrait de parfum and parfum de toilette, but I find myself wearing Shalimar Eau Légère by Mathilde Laurent more comfortably, especially in the summer months.

So is Eau de Shalimar that different? The official response by PR official Isabelle Rousseau is categorical: "Je vous informe que la fragrance Eau de Shalimar est la même que Shalimar Eau Légère Parfumée, réalisée par Jean-Paul Guerlain." (ie. I inform you that the Eau de Shalimar fragrance is the same as Shalimar Eau Légère Parfumée, created by Jean Paul Guerlain.) Taking into account that this is the woman who had specified to me when exactly the reformulated batches of Mitsouko Eau de Parfum started circulating (June 2007, for those who missed it), I have no reason to doubt her credibility or sincerity. Still, a miniscule variation might be due to different batches of ingredients.

The bottle of Eau de Shalimar is easy to distinguish among its predecessors: made of transparent glass but in a different colour. The label with the fragrance name is in midnight blue color, while it is enclosed in a white outer box. It is available at major department stores as 50ml (1.7 fl.oz.) of Eau de Toilette.

Official Notes for Shalimar Light/Eau de Shalimar: lime, bergamot, orange, rose, iris, jasmine, vanilla

Pics via parfumdepub, ebay and fragrantica

Shalimar by Guerlain: Review and History Info for an Iconic Oriental

Shalimar...its sonorous name reverberates long after its smell has evaporated, conjuring images of prodigal sensuality and old-fashioned romanticism like no other; holding us spellbound in a mirage of forbidden dreams.

Beginnings With a Legal Battle No Less

And yet, the very name which means "temple of love" in Sanskrit, was jeopardised soon after the perfume's introduction in 1921! It proved to be so memorable that a rival company decided to cash in on its popularity and launch a perfume of the same name. This resulted in a legal battle which had Guerlain temporarily rebaptise the fragrance as No.90 (its number in the illustrious catalogue of the house) on their export bottles, thus rendering them rare collector's items. Luckily for us, things soon fell into their ordained place in 1925, marked as the year of the official launch, and Shalimar haunts our dreams to this day, being the progenitor of culinary fragrances with its plush vanilla but also an iconic true oriental with its deep labdanum shadows. A quintessentially French interpretation of an Oriental: It's no accident than even Ernest Beaux, no ordinary perfumer himself, complained: "When I do vanilla I get crème anglaise, when Guerlain does it he gets Shalimar!"

The Legend of the Creation & Its Times

In the best Guerlain tradition of evoking passionate love stories for most of their perfumes, Shalimar is said to be inspired by the homonymous Gardens in Lahore, Pakistan, part of which was laid by love-sick Mughal Emperor Shah Jehan in 1619, where he promenaded with his most beloved wife Mumtaz Mahal. After Mumtaz died in childbirth three years after her husband succeeded his father to the throne, Taj Mahal was built as the world's finest mausoleum in her honour in Agra. Even if this story is the brainchild of a brilliant copywriter, it resonated with the times perfectly.

Today the East stands in our Western mind as the symbol of tranquility and introspection, but in the roaring 1920s the East conjured up images of unbridled passion, exoticism, khol-eyed beauties and addictive substances. It was the time when Herman Hesse published Siddharta, the West's first glimpse of Buddhism, and F.Scott Fitzgerald The Great Gatsby, a paean to the newly established American prosperity and its pitfalls. Theda Bara had already lain the path to cinematic vamps to follow, such as Pola Negri and Clara Bow with her bloody-red dark cupid's lips immortalised on black and white vignettes, while Paul Poiret had produced his own phantoms of the harem paving the way to modern fashions. It was the time of Les Ballets Russes, set to music by Stravinsky and Poulenc with sets painted by Picasso and Georges Braque. In short Orient was meeting Occident at the seams.

 The Secrets of the Shalimar Formula

It was at this juncture in time Jacques Guerlain was intrigued by the newly popularised synthetic vanillin or Methoxy-3-Hydroxy- Benzaldehyde.
Vanillin was first isolated as a relatively pure substance in 1858 by Nicolas-Theodore Gobley, by evaporating a vanilla extract to dryness and recrystallizing the resulting solids. In 1874, German scientists Ferdinand Tiemann and Wilhelm Haarmann found a way to synthesize vanillin from coniferin, a glycoside of isoeugenol found in pine bark (they went on to found a company which now belongs to Symrise and produce it industrially). In 1876, Karl Reimer synthesized vanillin from another source: guaiacol. The laboratories De Laire bought the patent for vanillin and sold the product to Guerlain for their perfumery, first used in Jicky.
By the late 19th century, semi-synthetic vanillin derived from the eugenol found in clove oil was available in the market. After the 1920s vanillin was synthesized from lignin-containing "brown liquor", a byproduct of the sulfite process for making wood pulp, but for environmental reasons most vanillin produced today is made from the petrochemical guaiacol: most popular method today is the two-step process practiced by Rhodia (from 1970s onwards), in which guaiacol reacts with glyoxylic acid by electrophilic aromatic substitution. The resulting vanilmandelic acid is then converted to vanillin by oxidative decarboxylation. Vanillin proved to be so successful that it became the sine qua non of the food industry, resulting in its inclusion to everything, especially in American produced chocolates and beverages; a concept that might be blasphemous to the traditional Swiss and Belgian ideas of chocolate making.

Jacques Guerlain always felt that the aroma of vanilla was a powerful aphrodisiac, a notion that is almost a prerequisite of orientalia, and completely in synch with the demands of the times. So curious to see what would happen ~or so the story goes~ he dropped a large dollop of vanillin into a bottle Jicky, Guerlain's revolutionary and popular aromatic fougère. But Jicky already contained vanillin along with natural vanilla extract, as well as coumarin (a substance isolated from tonka beans in 1868, having the smell of cut hay) and linalool (a naturally occuring in over 200 species terpene alcohol, isolated here from rosewood), its trio of guardian angels in the halls of fragrance history. The secret to the medicinal, smoky yellow vanillin of Jicky, reprised in Shalimar, was the remnants of guiacol and phenols, lending an autumnal darkness to what would otherwise be a confectionary sweet cream. This is the reason that Guerlain insisted on ordering the impure grade of vanillin even when the chemical process was improved.

It was the fusion of vanillin, coumarin and opoponax along with labdanum, however, which provided the basic accord of Shalimar and accounted for its haunting aura. Thus Jacques Guerlain pushed the oriental theme of Jicky to new extremes, creating the emblematic oriental and the flagship fragrance for Guerlain. Luca Turin in his older French guide compared its place in perfumery to the Revolutionary Etude by Chopin: a classic loved and played to excess, but of which a new interpretation or a unexpected coming-across has the power to move even the most nonchalantly unconcerned.


How Shalimar Smells the Way it Does

Guerlain's Shalimar opens with the violent zest of bergamot, backed up by sweeter hesperidic accents, quickly melding into an embrace of flowers that soon set the stage for the sensual and warm undercurrent of the muskily sexy base. The bridge of patchouli and vetiver, with a touch of what seems like mediterranean thyme, provides the movement that compliments the chilly astrigent feel of the citrus, uniting the prickly, balsamic elements of the drydown with a dash of leathery quinolines (materials with a harshly pungent, bitter green scent) into a sustained basso continuo that endures for hours; on skin as well as on clothes. 

Shalimar's feminine beauty comes from the orchestration of its softly powdery and animalic elements that heave like an ample bosom: the golden dust of heliotrope, the hazy veil of opoponax, the balsamic goodness of warm, slightly spicy benzoin and Peru balsam mingling with the vanillic softness, the carnality of musk...You can wear this clad from head to toe and it still seems like you're completely naked.

Comparing Vintage & Modern Versions of Shalimar

In vintage formulations, the bergamot is brighter (and natural) and the muskiness more pronounced, rendering Shalimar a very sexy fragrance that is unashamedly and calculatingly seductive: according to Roja Dove" it was said that a lady didn't do three things: smoke, dance the tango and wear Shalimar". Never was a perfume so close to the edge of respectability while remaining within good taste. Later re-interpretations, especially in recent years, have detructed from the animalic element of the base, due to substitution of ingredients (the catty potency of civet in particular, as well as making the bergamot top synthetic due to photosensitizing concerns) and additionally conformity to modern tastes for lighter fragrances. The result nevertheless is harsher, thinner and with a less "flou", plush ambience about it.
The extrait de parfum used to be the undoubtedly supreme choice in Shalimar, the epitome of a dark oriental, while the Eau de toilette and Eau de parfum were lesser mortals; but in the interests of securing a rich-smelling vintage bottle I highly recommend the Parfum de Toilette concentration that circulated during the 1980s: it presents the best aspects of the vintage with a price-tag that can be met (bottle depicted in the above ad). Also, if you happen across an eau de cologne bottle, don't knock it: it probably comes from the 60-70s and it is as potent and as rich as a current Eau de Parfum concentration of any given fragrance.

Bottle Designs & How to Date Shalimar editions
Throughout its life, Shalimar extrait de parfum continued to be sold in its original crystal bottle with blue glass stopper the shape of a ventaille. The original urn shaped flacon was designed by Baccarat in 1925, but it was also copied and used by the glass houses of Cristal Romesnil and Pochet et du Courval for Shalimar later on. The identity of the glass can be seen at the base of the bottle: acid stamps for Baccarat or Cristal Romesnil, an entwined HP for Pochet et du Courval. For brief periods, Shalimar was featured in both the oval shaped flacon that also housed Jicky, Après L' Ondée and Liù (in the late20s and 30s) and in the Jicky "quadrilobe"-stopper squat bottle (in the 1940s) .
The parapluie (umbrella) design, a simple ribbed elongated bottle, was introduced in 1952 by Pochet et du Courval and was popular well into the 60s, with paradigms circulating into the 70s and even the 80s.
In 1968 a cylindrical bottle enameled with white and blue designs was introduced for the Eau de Toilette, while the Eau de Cologne concentration was presented in round bottles (called "disk bottles") with a round label and a pyramidal stopper along with most of the well-known fragrances of Guerlain circulating well into the 70s. The gold cylindrical bottles with the glass refill inside them were introduced in the 1980s, re-interpreted in the Habit de Fête gold-toned bottles with silver studs for the -then- approaching millenium.
In 2007, a limited edition in black was issued named Shalimar Black Mystery, but apart from the bottle, the fragrance remains the same.

Two especially valuable and beautiful presentations are:
1) the Marly editions, starting from the 1930s and continuing into the 1950s, featuring the red Marly horse logo on both bottle and box. The logo echoes the Marly marble horses on the Place de la Concorde, originally ordered by Louis XV for the park of Château de Marly and sculpted by Guillaume Coustou between 1743 and 1745.
2) the very rare Presentation Avion (airplane presentation),offered on the Air France Paris-New York flights, starting in 1960. The extrait bottle would stand up (instead of down) inside a small plinth, in which the box lid would slip over making a cover. Additionally the stopper was inside a tiny cardboard box included in the presentation and the perfume itself was sealed with a cork covered in a thin seal. Both Baccarat and Pochet et du Courval made these bottles, differentiated by their markings on the bottom of the bottle.

Last but not least, an easy rule of thumb, is that on old bottles the label simply has Shalimar surrounded by gold border, while on newer bottles there is also the name Guerlain underneath. Also, recent bottles are flatter, non fluted and with the blue ventaille done in a simpler design than before.

Notes for Guerlain Shalimar: bergamot, lemon, mandarin, rose, jasmine, orris, vetiver, heiotrope, opoponax, vanilla, civet, Peru balsam, benzoin, tonka bean, sandalwood

Flankers/derivative versions of Shalimar by Guerlain (with linked reviews & comparison with original):
Shalimar Eau Legere/Shalimar Light
Eau de Shalimar
Shalimar Ode a la Vanille
Shalimar Parfum Initial
Shalimar Parfum Initial L'Eau
Limited editions of Shalimar (without change in the perfume formula itself):
Eau de Shalimar Flower
Shalimar Charms edition & Eau de Shalimar Charms edition
Shalimar Fourreau du Soir
Shalimar extrait de parfum in Bacarrat quadrilobe flacon 2011 edition

Pics via parfumdepub and ebay/collector Cleopatra's Boudoir. Illustration by Erté, c.1930 via Prints.com

The new Shalimar by Guerlain commercial with Natalia Vodianova

A few days ago we introduced the new face of Shalimar by parfums Guerlain, Natalia Vodianova, shot by Italian photographer Paolo Roversi. The ad prints that will appear in major fashion and beauty magazines only give a hint of the upcoming advertising campaign, apparently.
Perfume Shrine is proud to be the first to feature the newest commercial of Shalimar, with Natalia Vodianova, today, kindly supplied by one of our readers who wishes to remain anonymous.
Our newest info suggests that Natalia Vodianova will also be fronting Guerlain's makeup and skincare starting January 2009.
The TV and cinema commercial of Shalimar is full of sensual images of a naked Vodianova, wriggling on an unmade bed, the voiceover recalling the famous Marilyn quip about wearing a few drops of Chanel No.5 in bed, but also visually echoing the controversial campaign of Calvin Klein's newest feminine scent Secret Obsession in which an object(the fragrance) becomes a psychological relation to emotional response. It is almost as if the emotion is transfered onto the object befitting Freudian analysis.



The concept seems to be focused on a conversion between lovers following a passionate tryst, with the man asking the mystery ingredient that accounts for what sounds like an unforgetable memory.
"Qu'est-ce que tu portais sur ta peau?" (what were you wearing on your skin?)
"Quelques gouttes de Shalimar!" (A few drops of Shalimar)

Then again, the immortal dialogue* from Godart's Le Mépris with Brigitte Bardot, reprised in Chanel's latest lipstick commercial* for Rouge Allure, is rather unsurpasable...


*{Click the links to watch!}

Stay tuned for upcoming reviews and little known info on Shalimar as well as its flankers, Shalimar Light (Eau Légère) and Eau de Shalimar.

Ad print courtesy of French Madame Figaro 30th August 08.

New face for Shalimar by Guerlain

One of my loyal and discerning readers, AlbertCan, informed me a few days ago that according to Forbes, Natalia Vodianova had signed with Guerlain (among others) to front products in their advertising campaigns. The news he scooped (and allowed me to elaborate on, bless his generous heart) are that she is to front their iconic oriental, Shalimar.
Perfume Shrine couldn't leave this without some comment, naturally.

Natalia is gorgeous, of course. And her rags-to-riches fairy tale life story makes for interesting reading, peppered with the touches of iconography that fans want their eponymous role-models to assimilate (charity participation, loving family of her own etc). Hailing from the historical Novgorod, a seat of medieval princes (later, under Soviet rule, named Gorgy in honour of the writer Maxim Gorky), she is now a princess herself, married to a Viscount no less. The Cinderella touch...
She even has something nice to say about all the photographers who shot her:

"Paolo Roversi is really Italian and makes you feel so beautiful. Mario Testino has that incredible talent of making not only you but everyone around you feel very special. Steven Meisel is so organized and focused, and he always thinks about you as a person and makes sure you're comfortable. Patrick Demarchelier is like a big teddy bear, and a really nice person. And Bruce Weber is like Father Christmas--he never forgets about you. He's very generous."

Where I am getting at?

Natalia's current image of super-polite ice-princess with a deer-in-the-headlights look somehow doesn't suit the idea of Shalimar as the uber-seductive, cunninigly selectioned potion in the galaxy of orientals; nor the brunette type of orientalised romantic ideal that Guerlain has been cultivating for years through the associations of the name with the Indian Gardens on which a great love story flowered. After Shalom Harlow and Fernanda Tavares, Natalia seems too blonde and too innocent(?) for this kind of job.
Additionally, there is also the issue of always choosing the whitest Caucasian women for big advertising campaigns of European houses, when it would be nice for a change if we saw a gorgeous black model or a Latina -I am not counting Tavares because she's not- for one of those brands (like Eva Mendes for Calvin Klein's latest Secret Obsession) or a genuine oriental type (remember Jasmin Ghauri?): if not for Shalimar, then for what? I am asking you!

On the other hand, some of the photos that Steven Meisel shot of Natalia for Vogue are definitely the stuff of oneiric gazing that doesn't involve labrador puppies and a house with a white fence in the suburbs... Nor does this one from French Vogue 2005. Same goes still for this photo-shoot for W magazine in 2006. Coincidentally, Paolo Roversi who is responsible for some of her most haunting portraits, has just shot the new print campaign for Shalimar.

Possibly, therefore, there are as many facets and as many pools of dangerous waters to a person as she is willing to plunge herself into!
I am thus eagerly looking forward to see how this advertising campaign for Shalimar featuring Natalia Vodianova will go. We will return with commentary soon!

EDITED TO ADD on 4th September:
An anonymous reader has been very kind in getting us a glimpse of the new campaign, so here it is:



Next we will be focusing on detail on the moves of the Guerlain brand, with an article that might instigate discussion.
And inspired by the new blood in the Shalimar project, we will be reviewing both the original and the flankers of this industrious and profitable for Guerlain monument of perfumery next week. Stay tuned!

Pic of Natalia Vodianova from Vogue. Pics of Shalimar ads (with Shalom Harlow and Fernanda Tavares) courtesy of parfumsdepub.

How much more gorgeous can you go?

Seek and you shall find: it is these biblical words that come to mind upon seeing the gorgeous advertisements of the year 1972 by Guerlain.
I was seeking an ad that would depict a red-haired beauty for Mitsouko in a futile search for the entertaining although completely frivolous concept of perfumes for certain haircolours,; a concept that had been in practice however at the start of the 20th century when houses would produce indeed fragrances aimed at different types of women, as classified per haircolour. Patou was one of them. Guerlain also had created Mitsouko for darker women and L'heure bleue for blondes, as I had read in a perfumer's confession to a journalist acquaintance.
And then I stumbled upon these. And a vista of beautiful possibilities opened up...

Shalimar for a raven-haired seductress


Mitsouko for a redhead introspect

L'heure bleue for a wistful, enigmatic dark blonde

Jicky for a dynamic, sizzling blonde



and finally, the pièce de resistance:
Vol de Nuit for a regal auburn-shaded brunette




Never mind that it looks like it's the same model on all the above ads. Ah...the perfume lover can dream, can't she?




all pics courtesy of okadi

Optical Scentsibilities: head thrown back in abandon

It had been no secret that Tom Ford's Black Orchid for women photoshoot involving Carin Roitfield's daughter (Carin being the editor in chief of French Vogue, no less) had been "inspired" by old Hollywood iconography. Tom Ford if nothing else is a brilliant marketeer who can always be relied upon to know which images will tick the fancy of his target audience. Or perhaps not.

In this case he was inspired by this Veronica Lake photo {click to see it!} by George Hurrell from 1941. The famous peek-a-boo platinum hair is now spawled all over the bed in a pose of surrender and what seems like vague expectation of who knows what.
A phone call, a caress, a bullet?


Dita von Teese, that gorgeous specimen of burlesque, has always relied on old-style Hollywood glam to project her divinely contrasted features. I had used this exact pic in lieu of the official one when I reviewed Black Orchid upon its launch {click for review}. It had seemed more glam than the official one and besides Dita has been a favourite for a long time.

Guerlain also had their own share in this department, alloting their iconic oriental Shalimar a place for this pose of surrender.

The original Opium advertisement with Jerry Hall, poster child of the late 70s, early 80s was first to be inspired by the glamour of yore. In this photo shoot she throws her head back as if high on the addictive powers of Opium. Very fitting considering the line is "For those who are addicted to Yves Saint Laurent".

This was my favourite from the group of Opium advertisments, if only because the fiery red of the model's hair (is it Angie Everheart?)is so complimentary to the cinnabar/vermillon colour of the perfume's flacon and so antithetical to the electric blue background. Remember electric blue, that favourite shade of the 80s that was vibrant like cloud charges on a night of temptest? It offset other shades so vividly...
Of course that pose can be also traced back to Veronica Lake in another shot by George Hurrell. This one: here! Pretty amazing, huh?

Perhaps one might trace the positioning of the body in such a manner to painting in the first place. In particular the iconography of St.Peter’s crucifixion, here by Luca Giordano (1692). Martyrs are often depicted in poses of abandon, as if they are left to their fate, willingly surrundering themselves to higher exigencies.

Then again I might be pushing it…

Ads from okadi,imagedesparfums and parfumsdepub. Veronica Lake pic from Ebay. Painting Crucufixion of St.Peter by angel-art-house.com

Perfume advertising 2: the boundaries of fantasy (multimedia clips)

In my previous entry I got the ball rolling and discussed the merits and progression ofChanel #5commercials in an effort to elucidate what fantasy can do for advertising purposes when done stylishly. Perfume advertising’s power lies in its ability to make us dream, to yield in escapism bringing into play an array of male and female types from mythologies which meld standard notions of what man and woman stand for. Those types address the natural and essential aspiration of consumers to partake of a desired personality. This takes either one of two possible ways: to be different, that is to become the person we would like to be; or, to be oneself, to affirm the person we believe ourselves to be. Of course fantasy is not exclusive to Chanel #5 as today’s post is going to show. There are other commercial clips aired on TV that have relied on the exploitation of sublime ideas far above the normal realm of what a perfume conveys, which would be smelling good. In this domain Chanel does excel it seems as they really do give a thought about it and they employ only top-notch professionals. The results speak for themselves.

Proof for that is one of their greatest commercials to date, the classic one for Egoiste, a men’s perfume from 1990. The commercial is brilliantly set to Prokofiev’s music from his ballet Romeo and Juliet “dance of the knights”. The magisterial, eerie and ominous score opens the scene when women shot in black and white cry and spell curses on the egoist male “hero” who has been tormenting them, daring him to show his face. As soon as a male hand opens one blind in what looks like a luxe French hotel, leaving the bottle of the Chanel product on the sill, the film turns into colour and the women enraged at his arrogance to show up so provocatively bang their shutters crying out “Egoist” with all their might. It is worth noting that all gowns are designed by Karl Lagerfeld, not two are the same, but also even the interiors of the briefly glimpsed rooms are all decorated differently.This is no typical advertising, in that it does not try to present any desirable trait on first reading, in compliance with the very imaginative use of the perfume’s name, which otherwise would guarantee its flop. The male protagonist remains unknown as we never see him fully, but his exploitations, although of a dubious moral substance, create a sense of primitive male pride in conquering in the stakes of female hunting.This consolidates the stereotype of a male Lothario who appears just in time that women have established their prowess in the workforce and perhaps feel the need to regress in their more feminine role of the hunted. The French have always depicted their female role-models in their advertisements as passive anyway, the myth equivalent of Venus in contrast to the independent Diana of the American prototype. If the advertising seemed daring and provocative enough in its depiction of the sexes, it is a testament to its artistry that sixteen years later Egoiste is still with us, a wonderful men’s perfume chosen by discerning women even for themselves, set to a terrific commercial that has written advertising history single-handedly. Watch the clip clicking here

Egoiste had a follow-up flanker perfume, Egoiste Platinumin 1994 that followed the concept of the male egoist of the previous commercial. This time it reprises the male hero who is battling with his alter-ego or consience, shown as a domineering force of a shadow on the wall taking life of its own and speaking in a voice over that insists he is nothing but an egoist threatening to take his place. The man takes a beating and then retaliates. Set to the same musical score and brilliantly shot, it is somehow tamer as it takes back much of the force of statement the original did about an undesirable (or is it?) personality trait that cemented the reputation of the first commercial’s character. As this aired in mid-90s, a time of political correctness and the perfume itself was made with an eye on the huge American market (where indeed it is more popular than the original Chanel fragrance) it shows the time frame in which it was conceived in plain sight. Still, it is imaginative and superbly executed. Watch the clip clicking here

Next in our discussion of fantasy in terms of perfume advertising comes the controversial and rare gem of Obsessionby Calvin Klein in 1985. This clip comes from beforeObsession became tied to overt sexual provocateur imagery painted with Bruce Weber’s aesthetic and certainly long before the Kate Moss anorexic ads of the mid90s. It aired briefly because of pedophile overtones that aptly tied with the effulgent tag line “Love is child’s play once you’ve known Obsession”. It cost it swift termination though and an ingenious spoof acted out on Saturday Night Live for “Compulsion”. In this clip a young boy of no more than 12 is reminiscing about a young woman who seems to be the object of his obsession, unattainable and therefore desirable, an idol for his worship, for which he wonders if she was real or whether he invented her. the inclusion of chess scene conveys a celebral quality as well, also being a scheming hint that requires thought. The young female model is wholesome and at the same time mesmerizing in a peculiar way, without ever becoming vulgar. The models all wear the classic casual-chic neutral palette of Calvin Klein with plain yet somehow distinctive tailoring that helped Klein become a force in the American fashion scene. The female protagonist, a Diana-like effigy in her slender athletic physique and stance manages to instill desire and yearning, making us want to become such a powerful impression on someone else’s mind as well. Of course the choice of an adolescent boy over which she exerts her power might be attributed either to advertisers being hesitant to completely overturn the tables and show female dominance over a studly mature male or else a penchant of Klein for adolescence and the provocation angle this offers. We might as well consider the equally controversial print campaign for his Jeans line at the end of the 90s, when adolescents posed in sets that resembled 70s pornographic photos from gay magazines. That one raised hell as well earning it banning. It is safe to assume that Calvin Klein has always cleverly capitalized on sex and its implication, pushing the limits on many of his ad campaigns and yet, his outlook and aesthetic although daring and challenging has not become vulgar or common like campaigns of late, Tom Ford’s direction for Paris perfume for Yves Saint Laurent for instance or Dior Addict displaying acres of glistening naked skin. Klein did show skin a lot, especially in the carnal decade, but somehow (perhaps naively) you got the impression that he really did like the images and did not only do it for the bucks. Watch the clip clicking here

Speaking of using sex as a selling point done in a completely fascinating way can be witnessed in the following Shalimar by Guerlain commercial. Rare and coming from 1984, it exploits the rich history of this legendary scent by genious Jacques Guerlain. Named after the gardens where a royal tale of love bloomed resulting in one of the greatest monuments on earth, the Taj Mahal, Shalimar has from the start been inextricably tied to seduction and oriental mystique. Said commercial is distinctly 80s in its imagery, using the glamorous and sensuous images of that time frame and a brief retro shot of the Prohibition 20s in sepia, reminding as that Shalimar is “as close to forever as a perfume can go” ( the most fitting tagline ever!). Set to what sounds like a ChopinNocturne (although I haven’t checked, so I might be wrong) it creates a mood ripe for romance, galvanizing our imagination. Racy and yet tasteful, from sucking on candy to the purring voice-over, from the wet splashing on a fully made-up face that was oh-so-now back then to the shot of a foot fetishly shod in a high heeled sandal, it manages to make women and men alike dream about seduction and sensuousness, achieving an esteemed place in my mind as one of the most memorable commercials I have ever seen. Watch the clip clicking here

To come full circle, no other than Chanel again for Cocoperfume for today’s last play on fantasy. Shot in France in 1992 by Jean Paule Goude, it is perhaps the most surrealistic of them all and the most masterful in its subtle but powerful subconscious message. It involves the birdcage in which a swinging Vanessa Paradis is the rare enslaved bird of a rich plume whistling melodiously when the drops of Cocoare spilled by a gloved hand; the thunderstorm cracking outside the Parisian apartment, the ghost of a woman who looks like Coco herself viewed briefly in the end in a white classic suit, crossing the leg by the window in a pose of defiance and utter chic. As Cocohas been advertised with the line “l’esprit de Chanel” (Chanel’s spirit, as it was inspired by her baroque appartment) it uses both wordplay (as spirit connotes both personality and liquid) and imagery to drive the point home. And it succeeds admirably. The inclusion of a white aristocratic pedigree cat, watching the caged “bird” come to life fascinated is a playful touch alluding to luxury but also possibly male attraction in the traditional hunter role, in a superb clip that makes the viewer want to awaken the hidden side, the singing side, the one talked about in the poem by Maya Angelou, “I know why the caged bird sings”. In such a commercial the limits of fantasy are so much challenged that it becomes a tale in itself, living the viewer enraptured in a reverie of unsurpassed mastery. Watch the clip clicking here

Next post will tackle the difficult subject of gender play in advertising.