Scentzilla!

Tom Ford’s advertising campaigns have moved in a slow slimy crawl from titillation to approximations of hate fucks. First he gave us a nude in his Yves Saint Laurent M7 ads, which conveyed little about the fragrance, but at least some remnant of sensuality clung like the last sip of evening wine to those images. Later, he carved out a Gucci-font G into a female model’s pubic hair. The faux shock of that image tried so very hard to communicate sexuality. I think it achieved that goal, but by focusing on a rhetorical exhibition of sex, the models failed to radiate any sort of enjoyment about Gucci products. At least it reinforced the brand logo.

The old marketing chestnut reminds us, like a hangover or an outdated political bumper sticker, that “sex sells.” Yet what he’s selling now isn’t sex, and I’m not sure it’s fragrance either. He’s hoping you’ll buy into the insecure hostility surrounding male sexuality that has seemingly become fashionable, rather than remain just a meatheaded side effect of adolescence. This photo has all the creative juice and subtlety of a Limp Bizkit song. The Tom Ford for Men ads effectively communicate… that it smells good? That it makes you feel good? No. It only coveys Tom Ford did it all for the nookie. And then he branded and bottled it.

With his slow escalation using sex to demonstrate dominance rather than pleasure, I fully expect and dread the next campaign: perfume bukkake.

I presume the ad campaign was devised to attract attention by looking provocative. But perfume is not about being provocative. Perfume, like effective advertising, is about seduction. Jean Baudrillard once said, “Take provocation, for instance, which is the opposite and the caricature of seduction. It says: ‘I know that you want to be seduced, and I will seduce you.’ Nothing could be worse than betraying this secret rule. Nothing could be less seductive than a provocative smile or inciteful behavior, since both presuppose that one cannot be seduced naturally and that one needs to be blackmailed into it, or through a declaration of intent: ‘Let me seduce you.’”

Has much thought been given to what the audience has been provoked to do beyond getting turned on? I’ve never heard a guy announce “I have a hard-on, let’s go fragrance shopping!” Perhaps Tom Ford has deep insight into a side of the male psyche which I can’t possibly hope to understand. With that in mind, I decided to seek an opinion on the ad from a man. He asked to remain anonymous, so we’ll call him Deep Scrote:

What is there to say about this? Is it supposed to capture the essence of cleavage? [Ed. Note: And we should be concerned about it smelling like cleavage. If it’s anything like my great-grandma’s, who used to hug me into her bosom when I was little, then it’s gonna smell like boiled meat and mentholated cough drops.] Where will she place the bottle next? How does this stuff taste? She seems to want some . . . Did Tom Ford titty-fuck a blow up doll and put his jizz in a bottle? Will that smell good? Who exactly is the target audience here?

Ooh, look… a bottle getting squeezed between two breastseses. That looks exciting. Look at her mouth… expectant! Gosh, I wish that was me between those oily blobs of silicone. What is it about gay old Tom Ford that gets the ladies so hot? Maybe it’s his scent. If I smelled that greasy perhaps I could get a good titty-fuck, too. Maybe I should buy whatever is in that bottle and slather myself in it. Then none of the blow-up dolls could resist me.

This is an advertisement, isn’t it? ‘Cause an advertisement is supposed to sell something and I’m not sure that whatever niche audience this is targeted at is worth the trouble. If Tom Ford wants to sell this stuff he needs to rethink his strategy. Selling stuff to guys is easy: You take a guy or small group of guys and surround them with a bunch of hot women to fawn all over them. Axe Body Spray figured it out! Hell! The tobacco and alcohol industry have been doing it for years. Whether consciously or subconsciously men get the message and buy the product. People want to be sexy, not creepy . . . unless that IS the target audience. Tom Ford’s Perfume for Pervs. Buy it TODAY! Tom Ford is weird . . . I’m gonna go watch Zoolander now.

Images via WWD via Jezebel

You may have read in the past few days about a little tempest of sorts regarding the existence of perfume blogger payola and swag. (Due to a family emergency which I prefer to keep private, I have been unable to spend much time reading on the computer, and was not aware there was any drama until late.) It’s been the subject of posts and vigorous commenting at Aromascope, Bois de Jasmin, Now Smell This, Perfume Posse, and Perfume-Smellin’ Things. It’s also been the subject of a lot of conjecture and debate on the perfume board at Makeupalley.

The initial blogger’s post that sparked what I’m going to go ahead and call a debate drew attention to a comment I had made 5 months ago on the Photo Matt blog. For those who don’t know, Photo Matt is the personal blog of the WordPress founding developer (the open source blogging platform Scentzilla uses) and a founder of Automattic (the company behind Wordpress.com and Askimet.) The post in question was very brief, and talked about click-through rates. My comment was actually a fairly emotional (on my part) response to something another commenter brought up, which wondered if people are mentally blocking out ads, then how long until they start blocking out the blogs themselves, too? With the rise of commerciality in blogging, this struck me, as a blogger who discusses consumer goods, as a very good question to ask.

To put my comment in a very personal context, I wrote it right in the midst of what felt like an onslaught of Christmas shopping PR agendas being delivered to my email inbox. There were offers for freebies of all sorts (not limited to perfume alone) sailing in, which was daunting enough… And then I was offered payment for reviews. These offers did not come directly through any perfume houses. They were extended by third parties. The first one I simply deleted immediately, as I figured they were nothing more than crackpots with a really bad idea. The second one I received (from a different source) wound up giving me the heebie-jeebies. I declined, and tried to offer up the unsolicited advice that this tactic was a questionable practice and not in their best interest to be making. I did so because I thought the party was misinformed about how blogs work. My advice brought back an apology, which was good, but it was bundled up inside the explanation that (and I’m paraphrasing) it wasn’t meant to offend, but that’s just how some other bloggers liked to do advertising.

Holy.

Crap.

WTF?!

I interpreted that as implicitly indicating that there were/are other bloggers accepting payment for positive reviews. My reaction was negative and visceral, so when reading the question brought up by the Photo Matt commenter, I wound up pouring out my concerns and worry what that sort of practice on such a limited blog topic meant for the whole of the blogosphere.

But the issue of direct payola is not the primary issue faced by bloggers. I believe it is rare, though its existence shouldn’t be denied simply because it is not overly prevalent. Yet.

The much more common practice of indirect influence of payola via freebies, or swag, should also be of concern to both bloggers and blog readers. I wish I had spoken up more about that in my comment, but at the time I was upset, and choosing the best wording ever was not my main objective. I was attempting to explain that if even such a small interest such as perfume attracts that sort of PR/advertising/marketing intrusion, bloggers on all subjects ought to remain wary. This practice may negatively influence the whole medium of blogging – not just perfume.

In fact, it was after I wrote that comment that I strengthened up the language in my own PR guidelines in order to leave no doubt in the minds of PR reps and readers alike where Scentzilla stands. Yet despite this, one somewhat prominent niche perfumery’s PR rep attempted to astroturf (see Wikipedia explanation here) on my blog, either in defiance or willful ignorance of my stated policy on the subject. The lesson I took from that was that the question of ethics falls squarely on the shoulders of bloggers. If there’s money to be made, companies’ PR wings will try to stick their fingers into the pot however they can manage.

I was not and am not inclined to name names. I would prefer not to risk sticking myself in legal hot water. Moreover, that’s not really the point. It’s a blogosphere wide concern; it’s not limited to perfume blogging only or to specific people, groups, or businesses. The issue is a ripe discussion topic, and I find it a compelling discussion to have for the health of blogging in general.

I regret that the comment left seems to have been taken and used by some individuals as a kind of ad hominem attack on all my perfume blogging peers. I am horrified that anyone would glean the assumption that ALL bloggers are engaging in unethical behavior; I was clumsily trying to say that I was highly persuaded that SOME bloggers in the fashion/beauty arena are. I’m disturbed that some folks have decided we’ve landed on some perfumed grassy knoll, and have consequently become conspiracy-theorists, when there in fact is no conspiracy. I do, however, understand that it may well come as a shock to some blog readers that free stuff (products, samples, etc.) may be offered to and accepted by blog authors. But it’s not as if some great big truth has been revealed. There’s no perfumed grassy knoll to become obsessed with finding, nor is there some imaginary Warren commission to rally against or around. Frankly, I find it disingenuous of some folks to feign naïve shock that there’s commercial interest in blogging when it’s plain that advertisements run all over many fashion and beauty blogs. The issue is a blogosphere wide issue, not one that is singular to fragrance blogging alone.

The giving and receiving of freebies, as well as blogger relationships with various PR firms and sponsors, raises interesting and pertinent questions about the supposed independence of bloggers. This is a valid area of concern. Whether or not any one individual blogger engages in these relationships and practices is irrelevant to the larger issue: Payola and swag do exist. Advertisers and PR will try in any way they can to control information about their products, and there are those who will accede to their attentions. Thus, all fragrance bloggers should look critically at the effect this has on our own blogging community, and more importantly, the blogging community at large. How does commercial attention shape the public perception of blogs as independent and personally driven media? How are these relationships influencing the conversation about our own chosen topics, both in tone and subject material? What kind of direction is the commercial attention driving us towards? Is that direction good, bad, or neutral? I ask, because right now there are more questions than ready answers, and we should be prepared to question ourselves about such things whether using the medium as writers or readers.

These are weighty issues to consider. The creeping commercial attention to amateur online reviewing is something every site owner should watch for as they navigate their way towards finding a personal code of ethics. I struggle with navigating those choppy waters frequently. It can be tricky, and it has not gotten any less tricky in the 3 years I’ve been blogging. If anything, it’s become more difficult as the beauty and fashion blog community has grown in size and diversity. Some sites are highly commercial, while others are less so. Therefore, relying upon the practices of your virtual blog neighbors when forming your own site’s guidelines may not always be the best or easiest solution.

This issue is not one that can be resolved by any one blogger categorically stating that PR, advertising, and its attendant weight of influence does not unduly cloud their judgment. What we need is a collective transparency as a blogging community if we wish to continue to be taken seriously.

The influence cash payments for posts can make on a blog is unequivocally direct. However, the influence a relationship with PR firms and their freebies might have on a blogger can be a danger as well. People may feel beholden to positively mention the products they receive. Others may feel compelled to construct or maintain an insider persona by repeating those firms’ press releases verbatim, possibly without considering the repercussions such posts may have within the whole sphere of a blogging community’s discussions. There is also the risk that some people may refrain from writing anything that could be construed as negative, because certain products may be carried by site advertisers. Perhaps, less obviously, there also exists the fear that if one pans a product represented by a particular PR firm, that PR firm (which may represent many brands) will sever their relationship entirely, thus cutting themselves off from a particular outlet for new information… or even more freebies, to be perfectly cynical.

Again, this is not to say every blog you read is run by unethical individuals, nor is it to say that every blog you trust doesn’t have to deal with these issues on a daily basis. It can be hard to find a balance on how to manage a site in a transparent but unobtrusive manner. Mistakes can and will be made – by both the scrupulous and the unscrupulous. But the blurry line between independence and commerciality can be confusing to follow for any blogger whose subject matter happens to be consumer goods. My own worry is that if the majority of perfume bloggers are all acting as willing synchronized cogs in one big giant PR machine, how long until the public simply begins to generally regard reading blogs akin to watching infomercials? Already there are blogs about other subjects that currently beg this question.

I suppose it’s worthwhile to point out that some beauty & lifestyle magazines also stray deeply into infomercial territory. Unfortunately, I think some fashion, beauty, and perfume bloggers try to take their stylistic and editorial cues from those sorts of magazines. Perfume blogs are not exactly Consumer Reports, but should this mean by default that they should follow instead after Allure, O, Lucky, etc? I’m not sure perfume bloggers should adopt whatever code of ethics they presume the editorial staff at those magazines take towards PR freebies, because I am not convinced that the standard there is entirely germane. While glossy mags may indeed receive press releases, products, and samples for mention in their pages, the editors do allegedly bend the content of those pages to kowtow to their advertisers. This is done without any of the transparency that might benefit their readers. In other words, the relative ethical practices of even the fashion and beauty print media can and should be viewed with a healthy amount of skepticism by bloggers. The idea they are the role model to follow is sketchy and a questionable suggestion.

Readers of blogs need to question themselves about the reliability of a blogger’s source of information and what motives a blogger might have in sharing that information. In most cases it’s a fairly benign motive: creative expression, and a desire to participate directly in the conversation about their favorite subjects. Reader awareness is as warranted for perfume blogs as any other type of blog. Enjoy the perfume blogs as possible sources of information and entertainment, but chose carefully how you read them. Because as a blog writer, I’m counting that your own personal bullshit detector will keep the honest and well-written blogs afloat while the rest all drift off into oblivion in a sea of homogeny.

Wait. Did I just say well-written? Crap. I just shot myself in the foot. Well, it was nice having you all visit Scentzilla while it lasted. Thanks for reading. Heh.

David H. Pybus may already be known to some of you hardcore ‘fume addicts already as one of the co-authors (with Charles Sell) of “The Chemistry of Fragrances.” His newest book, “Transports of Delight: An Aromatic Journey in Verse From East to West on the Wings of Perfume,” is set to be released… well, today, actually! (Ordering can be done directly through the publisher at Global Oriental.) Outside of writing, he’s busy with all sorts of wide-ranging activities, from perfumery and training consultations, to cruise presentations, to what can only be termed as perfume archeology, uncovering long-lost fragrances from the past. (You can find out more by visiting his websites, pandoraltd.com or pisky.net.) He was gracious enough to allow me to pick his brain and ask a few questions: I’m honored to be able to publish his responses here.

You are a published author of two books already, the lovely “Kodo: The Way of Incense,” and the well-regarded “The Chemistry of Fragrances.” What was the motivation behind writing your latest book, “Transports of Delight?”

I am an aromancer- a dealer in aromas first and foremost. Whilst fragrances have been my career I am interested in getting the world to stop and smell the roses (or the coffee.) I guess it stems from my old hippie days. So one part of that is poetry which I started in Kodo. I travel the world as a cruise presenter and realised that we are a very vision and hearing dominant species. What I try and do is get passengers on cruise ships to take back aromatic memories with them too and TOD was the creative outcome of that.

I was as a chemist originally a frustrated artist and thespian. Fragrances are the art of science and chemistry expressed in a sensual way. I became a chemist as it was actually a creative form- as a kid I made my own fireworks! I have always loved good English grammar and Literature. It all grew from that melting pot. I’m also a bit of a romantic at heart. My two books (see below) on poetry have taken around three years on and off to put together- in between other projects.

Perhaps you might be willing to name some of your favorite poets in general, outside of just “scented” writings?

That’s a real toughie- I’m afraid as a guy I really don’t go for the “Ode to daffodils” type of stuff, but some work by Keats, Wordsworth and Shelley are very moving. Blake is powerful. I often find each poet has at least one poem that moves me. Cafavy’s though is still my favourite.

What do you find is the hardest part of attempting to transliterate aroma into words? Conversely, what is it that you find the easiest? Why do you think poetry is such a good fit for conveying and provoking the emotions that accompany our sense of smell?

Smell is sensual and as you know linked to our sexual gonads and seat of memory. What better drivers could you have for poetry. To quote Wordsworth:

The Prelude: ‘Spots of time’

There are in our existence spots of time,

Which with distinct pre-eminence retain

A renovating Virtue, whence,

… our minds

Are nourished and invisibly repaired

(Book XI, ls 258-278)

‘Spots of time’ for Wordsworth are past experiences through which he can trace his own development, as a man and as a poet, and which continue to resonate with new meanings many years after the events themselves.

I experience these spots of time with all my sensory faculties including the oft forgotten olfactory sense.

I’ve also grown up absorbing the language of aromas, which of course is stolen from art (hue,colour,vibrancy, texture…) and music (chord, dischord, notes, harmony…)

The phrase “Indiana Jones of perfume” pops up to describe you and connote your willingness seek out fragrances that would otherwise be lost to history. What are some of the more notably interesting perfumes you’ve uncovered? Which one do you feel possesses the most interesting story behind it?

The media describe me as such and it seems to have stuck. But i don’t mind as it’s basically a good description of what I do- except that my archaeological treasure happens to be scent. To be continued. Watch this space… but basically perfumes are transient, ephemeral beings. Open the stopper and they are lost in the arrow of time. They are caught in time by natural disasters. Earthquakes, shipwrecks, volcanic explosions. That and the far ends of the earth are where I seek my olfactory treasures.

My toughest adventure was calling in to Anne Sommers for my Indiana Jones whip!

I see you’ve given presentations on some of your “Indiana Jones” perfumery finds… What has been the most rewarding reaction from your audiences? What has been the most surprising to you?

Basically they queue up to buy and that has sent me down a different more commercial track. The appeal by age (of clientele not perfume) of certain fragrances is also obvious.

How did you become involved with the RMS Titanic, and the salvaging of one of the Titanic passenger’s fragrances? Do you have a particular favourite amongst these recovered perfumes, and could you describe it for us?

I simply worked as exclusive consultant to RMS Titanic and arranged for the transfer of the phials to England. One in particular which we code named “pink” is very like L’Origan by Coty with rose, violet, heliotrope, and mayflower. There was also an appealing male fragrance. However many of the phials were damaged beyond repair, or contained raw materials which would be considered too expensive (or toxic) nowadays! The perfumer who reworked them now works for Chanel. It is unlikely the Titanic fragrances will ever see the light of day commercially for many considerations.

In your book “Kodo, The Way of Incense,” you describe a great number of incense materials, but you also include concise descriptions of incense ritual and “games.” What was it about this subject that most attracted you to put pen to paper? What were some of the challenges in trying to explain a traditional custom of Japanese culture to Western readers?

I believe in synchronicity/serendipity- call it what you will- the Universal law of attraction. I wrote a small article on Kodo (not knowing at the time what it really was, but being intrigued by a picture in an old manuscript.) I got an email from a Japanese guy saying I was a very interesting foreigner (one up from being a barbarian) to know about Kodo and would I like to come to Japan to learn. This came from the oldest Incense Company in Japan who make for the Emperor, and the outcome was that having done a little research for them in the UK. I spent some time in their factory in Japan learning to grind the raw materials and then travelling, helping sell them in Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples. One fun thing was that I worked in the factory all week (it was dusty work!) with a T shirt from my visit to the US - it simply said NOLA (New Orleans Louisiana) NOLA in “anglicised ” Japanese means lazy worker! No wonder they all smiled at me. On my last day it was got through to me that Nara (the old capital) was the true end of the silk road - that’s when I got the idea for Kodo- the three ways of incense- the ceremony itself, the raw materials and collecting them along the route and the effect on the brain depending on how they are mixed and matched. Basically incense- the earlier perfume (derived from the Latin per fumum- through or by smoke) is a mind altering drug that just happens to be legal.

How do you incorporate your love of smell into your own life? Do you wear fragrance, and what are some of your favourites? Are there particular incenses (or other home fragrances) that you gravitate towards more than others?

Simple.

At present Aqua De Gio (sparingly as I do not want it to interfere with my overall appreciation of aromas around me) or Anteaus.

As for female?

• Youth Dew reminds me of my first love

• Miss Dior of my ex wife (we are still amicable) and

• My future lady (if she’s somewhere out there) probably wears something at the moment like Light Blue or Be Delicious.

Any Japanese incense with genuine aloes wood (eaglewood/agarwood) or Sandalwood appeals to me. Sweepings up from the factory floor of India do not.Genuine Nag Champa is also sensational.

It’s astounding to think of all the well-known writings that embrace our other senses - for example, Lester Bangs listening to music, Robert Parker tasting wine, and too many art critiques to even begin listing them. Why do you think our sense of smell is comparatively overlooked so often? It seems almost like our ability to smell gets taken so much for granted that we forget to appreciate it’s even there, let alone take delight in it and express that delight.

Basically its because we relate it to our “atavistic” animal senses and we are of course “civilised” (so called.) After all if we all got down on four “paws” and acted like cats and dogs it would be the end of civilisation as we know it. Indeed Sigmund Freud is quoted as saying that on casualty of civilisation is a diminution of our sense of smell. Our smell acuity drops off rapidly after around 60 (especially males) and like any other “muscle” - use it or lose it- so my advice is to take every opportunity to use your sense of smell - on food, the neighbourhood (and your neighbours!)

To me, one of the more fascinating portions in “The Chemistry of Fragrances” came at the very end, in the chapter called “The Brief Submission.” The chapter uses the creation of a hypothetical fragrance named Djinni as a device to explain some of what goes on in the briefs submitted when a company wants to launch a new fragrance. It seems almost counter-intuitive to us perfume nuts to begin with anything but solely the notes, or olfactive information. (And in truth, it felt that way in my own limited experience since I have, like, zero background in either fragrance or marketing.) How much do you think hangs on a well chosen name for a fragrance? How much do you feel the image and/or imagery behind a fragrance concept plays into its eventual success, or lack thereof?

Once the juice was the most important thing in the creation. Now it’s the wrappings (including the names.) I’m afraid too many C list celebrities put their names on perfumes and then the “marketing lovelies” get involved with their descriptions. Heard of “living Bartlett pear” - I can just see the poor old pear getting boiled alive in hot alcohol- or “pink musk?” Heard of pink elephants? You see them when drunk- but pink musk? I’m afraid it all demeans the true essence of perfumery. Also of course many are “built” (not created) down to a price and that means more synthetics and less naturals. This in itself is not a bad thing as synthetics (from oil, coal) were of course once natural, and nature identical copies nature too. But in naturals I feel there is an indefinable life force that cannot be weighed or measured, but simply makes all the difference to vibrancy- like everything in life you get what you pay for.

What other projects do you have in the pipeline for the future?

Led By the Nose is a book of over 100 comic verses written by yours truly again in an attempt to get people to stop and smell the roses. It is not published yet as there are five things wrong:

• Poetry is not appreciated

• Poetry which rhymes is doubly not appreciated

• Poetry which is Comic and rhymes is trebly not appreciated

• I am not a member of the Royal Family or a footballer (soccer player)

• Working the publishing industry in the UK is like swimming backwards through treacle (molasses)

Know any good American Publishers- I think we vaguely speak the same language (although spelling leaves a bit to be desired- what’s this “flavors” and “odors” stuff!)

I am so pleased with the artistic work of my co-worker Sergio Lievano on my book that I have taken up a distance course in cartooning. Not in any way to beat Sergio who is fantastic but simply to learn another artistic way of expression. See front cover of book attached.

I will leave you with the title poem (copyright of course) in the hope that your readers suitably enriched will be able to purchase the book later this year along with the more serious “Transports of Delight:”

In a recent story for the NPR program All Things Considered, correspondent Susan Stone visited the Osmotheque, and interviewed the legendary perfumer Jean Kerleo. I had a chance to ask her some questions about that experience, her own perfume obsession, and chat up about some oldies but goodies.

What were your expectations for visiting the Osmotheque? What did you think it would be like, and how did your actual visit match up to or differ with your anticipated experience?

It was a bit more technical than I expected – more like a working research lab. The Osmotheque is technically inside ISPCA, the big perfumery school. There were lots of students milling around – we left around lunchtime, and I saw primarily young women. I was left wondering where all of them would end up working! It’s not really a museum – it’s an archive, or a conservatory.

Kerleo in his own words said,

“Our work at the Osmotheque is to preserve the evolution of perfume and perfume of the past and recent past so that students and people interested in perfume can come here, smell the perfume, and understand it.”

There are a small number of perfume bottles on display — Catherine Deneuve, Tabac Blond, Moustache, to name a few, and some framed vintage perfume ads on the walls. But it’s very quiet and simple.

Also on display is a coffret of Parfums de Rosine by Paul Poiret. The coffret was found in the cellar of Jean Patou’s factory by a worker who brought it to Kerleo. One of Poiret’s perfumers named Alméras, had moved to Jean Patou after Poiret went bankrupt in 1925. [Ed. Note: Henri Alméras was responsible for Poiret’s Le Fruit Defendu, and such classics as Joy and Moment Supreme at Patou.] He stayed for 30 years, then when he left, some papers and belongings were left behind, including this amazing coffret.

Were you handled differently because you were visiting there in a journalistic capacity than a regular visitor might be? What might the average person expect to discover if they are allowed to visit?

Yes, absolutely. Primarily in that I was able to get an appointment on a day (Friday) they don’t usually invite guests. But, on the other hand, I also missed out on the special lectures they create for groups, including many more scents, and lots of raw materials to encounter. I get the impression that the level of information they provide to the public is at an extremely high and special level. In addition, I believe group tours are held in a sort of conference room, and since there were only two of us (me and my French friend/emergency translator) we were in with all the bottles and also in M. Kerleo’s office. There is also a cold storage cellar that few people see. I didn’t!

What was the most surprising or shocking thing you learned there?

I had asked Jean Kerleo how he decided which modern perfumes to archive, and was surprised that the Osmotheque gets its collection by donation. He had recently received bottles of the latest Serge Lutens while I was there.

Oh how awful! I’m quite surprised that companies don’t donate as a matter of course…. Why aren’t they more interested or invested in archiving their presumptive legacies, I wonder? Was this a source of frustration or disappointment for him, or did he seem sanguine about it all?

Many companies do donate, but I think he would always like to have more. Although keeping up with ALL the new releases every year would be exhausting, as perfume bloggers well know! Kerleo said they accept all things that are sent, and they add them to the Osmotheque’s collection. If there’s a big release and they don’t get it, they request it. He did seem sanguine about it. They have a list of the collection, and it ranges from Uninhibited by Cher to Chypre by Coty. And looking at some of the new donations listed on a recent newsletter, I see the Armani Prive line, Gaultier2, Eau pour soi by Roger & Gallet, La rose du Petit Prince, and Eau d’Iparie from L’Occitane, to name a few.

I was also surprised at how positive Kerleo was about the EU regulations on perfume. He seemed to think that perfumers could do amazing things with the ingredients available, so it should be no big problem. Then again, the Osmotheque is permitted to use banned or restricted substances in their reformulations – because they don’t sell them (and don’t seem to put them on the skin). He seemed more interested in the creativity and imagination of the perfumer than perceived limitations.

What was the most curious thing you learned?

The very first perfume they reproduced for the Osmotheque was Crepe du Chine by Millot – it was the first time they got a formula from a perfume house. I was surprised to learn that it was created by their in-house perfume — Jean Desprez — who later developed my beloved Bal a Versailles. M. Kerleo got out some Bal a Versailles special for me to smell. They don’t have the formula at the Osmotheque – the family sold the rights and the house and he said you can’t really even buy it in France. It seems funny to me that in Versailles, of all places, you can’t get Bal a Versailles. (Bal a Versailles can be found in Paris, just not everywhere or obviously…)

That is a sure travesty. Desprez made some amazing perfumes, and even all those others that escape the general public notice were heady and complex in ways that some of the more modern infamous fragrances never manage. Is he pursuing the formula from the current rights-owner? Given its importance and slow dissolve from shelves, I’d imagine it’d score high priority for them.

I honestly don’t know. The sample in the collection was given to the Osmotheque by the House of Jean Desprez, perhaps before it was sold.

You had the opportunity to smell a number of perfumes on your visit. Would you describe your favorite, and if you can, explain why it was your favorite?

That’s an easy one. Le Fruit Defendu, hands down. This is the perfume by Paul Poiret – Parfums Rosine - that scandalized WWI Paris. It’s very sweet, gourmand, foody. Not vanilla, but creamy, sort of powdery. What’s bizarre to me is that I have been getting olfactory flashbacks from it in modern perfumes. For example, Kenzo Jungle L’Elephant and Annayake Matsuri. I hate to say it, but cloying might be the best descriptor. In a good way? People hated it when it came out – they considered it too frivolous in light of the horrors of the war. Kerleo said even in 1990, when the Osmotheque opened, people thought the perfume was disgusting. Then came Angel. Now people who smell Le Fruit Defendu think it is a pleasant, modern scent. I think there is a bit of rotting corpse in there after all – Eau de CSI. I still like it.

I love your description of Fruit Defendu. It sounds like it would be mesmerizing to wear. Except I’d totally need the right outfit to go with it, you know? Like, you’d so want to be gloved and properly dressed to match. Not that I could carry off a single one of Poiret’s dresses, hee!

Me neither. I’m more of a Dior New Look kind of gal.

What, according to Kerleo, are the most requested perfumes that the Osmotheque holds?

Fougere Royal, and often Le Fruit Defendu these days.

How was the sniffing experience at the museum both similar to and different from sniffing at a shop or home trials?

You can’t put the fragrances on your skin. You can only smell them on the specific scent strips, which are dipped fresh for you. I don’t know if people ask to wear the fragrances – I didn’t. It seems a bit like asking to try on the First Ladies’ dresses at the Smithsonian.

What perfumer or house that you discussed with Jean Kerleo most intrigued you, and why?

I was really glad to be able to talk about Paul Poiret and to include him in my story. Of course, his perfume was a great way to end my story, but I also think he’s more forgotten than he should be, especially compared to Chanel. I studied the history of fashion design (very briefly) and used to read a lot about it, so some of these perfumers’ names are more known to me from clothing than fragrance.

How does the Osmotheque obtain its information on old formulas and histories? Do they get them directly from the houses? Or the perfumers themselves? Perhaps they must solicit them from the perfumer’s families or estates? Do they find this information given gladly, or must they convince the parties of their intents and aims?

Kerleo obtains original recipes from perfumers and perfume houses, and promises they will remain secret. They can study samples of scents, but it is very difficult to obtain a formula from a finished perfume. And it can take years to remake a perfume from the formula. Certainly, the crop of jasmine will not be exactly the same as in 1925. Then again, it might be just as good.

So, uh, Jacques Fath is a constant source of curiosity for me. what did you think about his Iris Gris? Did you learn anything about the legendary perfumer behind it or about Fath’s house you’d be willing to share?

For me personally, at the moment of sniffing Iris Gris had no “wow” to it, more of a “hmm…’ But I would say the scent really awakened my INTEREST in the smell of Iris. I’ve been checking out Hermes’ Hiris in the Duty Free lately, and I have a sample of DIVINE L’Homme Coeur that has an interesting Iris note. I think Iris is a flower that makes you think (or reflect) rather than instantly feel – perhaps it’s cerebral rather than visceral. Jean Kerleo said they consider Iris Gris very good, and very famous. You either like it or you don’t. Technically speaking, he considers it good work of a perfumer because it maintains the same character consistently – what you smell is what you get from the first impression. It doesn’t change – there’s no evolution from top note to heart note to base note – he admires its stability. It was also a very expensive product to produce due to the amount of real Iris used. I just took out the scent strip and sniffed it – it reminds me of putting my cheek against cold white marble. I’m not sure if that’s in a museum or in a mortuary. It feels a bit sad. What did you think of it?

I find it a strange resolution of conflicts. The way the orange blossom top hovers over the heavy orris butter like an aural blanket should smell incongruous and unbalanced, but it works. There’s something in it, as you say, of a mortuary. The base seems so earthy yet impenetrable. But there’s humid warmth there, too - perhaps a touch of something not unlike a dank root cellar in mid-summer. Iris Gris is so highly structured. I wonder if perhaps it struck you as passionless as a result, and maybe that’s why it seemed more contemplative to you instead of eliciting a swift visceral reaction?

Hmm…passionless. That seems harsh but accurate. Like something to be admired but not touched. Very much like some film divas from the Black and White era.

I need to ask you about Coty Chypre then, (which Ms. Stone was kind enough to share a scent strip with me) if Iris Gris was just a “hmm…” moment for you! There is a quality to it which smells like an animal that pissed itself in fear. That quality comes as a fantastic shock to the modern nose. This one HAD to have struck you in the gut. Did M. Kerleo share any thoughts on it while you sniffed? Any warnings come with it, heh?

No, no warnings. I think the disturbing notes come much later with this one. I have to say having just tried my first Caron (Parfum Sacre), I found the same element in it. I described it recently (I am so sorry…) as old lady underpants. Of course lots of people love Caron, and I’m sure they would love Coty Le Chypre. It’s very important to the Osmotheque. Kerleo said that it took quite a long time and many trials to remake, as they didn’t have the exact specific amounts for the formula for this one. He said some of his friends who were a bit older and thus had more of a connection with the scents of the period (Chypre is from 1917!) were able to lend a nose, and they gave the ok. It amazes me that these wonderful aging gentlemen of perfumery have such an astonishing scent memory.

I’m not even a little familiar with so many of those very old Houbigants - what on earth did you think of Vinaigre Aromatique?

The Osmotheque has several examples of vinegars in their collection – it was used medicinally. Even very famous houses like Guerlain began by making perfumed vinegars – before perfume! According to Jean Kerleo, the first product of Pierre-Francois Pascal Guerlain, the founder of the house of Guerlain, was a vinaigre de toilette. As you can imagine, these products start out with a strong vinegar smell. But it does dissipate, leaving a more pleasant, perfumed aroma. In the case of Vinaigre Aromatic de Houbigant, the lasting smell was light citrus. These vinegars were used to purify the skin, and to ward off disease, not to mention to distract a little from all the bad odors swarming around cities in the 18th and early 19th centuries. It was sold by pharmacists, not perfumers!

What’s your take on the differences between the old Idole and the relaunched reformulation of it (if you’ve tried it?) The original was not quite so whiskey- and vanilla- sweet to me. Perhaps you have a more interesting perspective?

The old Idole de Lubin and the new Idole de Lubin could be from separate planets! The original, from 1964, was a floral green women’s’ scent. Its creator is involved in the Osmotheque. The new Idole, in its Afrodesia bottle is Trader Vic’s done classy – boozy, spicy, warm and dark. M. Kerleo talked about a number of scents that have been introduced reusing old names: Emeraude by Coty, Champs Elysee by Guerlain, Tresor by Lancome.

Partially in thanks to Luca Turin’s new book, Kerleo’s recreation of Houbigant’s Fougere Royale is perhaps their most famous to us perfume-nuts now… What lingers in your own mind about it? What did Kerleo stress to you as the most important facet of its formula and/or recreation?

Well, it is the granddaddy of men’s colognes. Though it has to take responsibility for its swaggering grandson Drakkar Noir (the male equivalent to Giorgio in my poor nose’s formative years). I love Turin’s description of it being bathroom cologne – having a secret nastiness to it. Jean Kerleo told me a nice story about recreating this. He received the formula from Antoine Javel of Houbigant, who was really skeptical that Fougere Royal could be recreated. But Kerleo wore it 50 years ago when he was a young man, and he had a perfect memory of the scent. So he remade it, and gave it to Mr. Javel, who said it was exactly the same! Kerleo said it was fantastic to have proof!

It almost shocks me how ultra modern it smells! Almost a hyper-reality version of lavender, if you will. It’s hypnotic, the smoothness deceptively hiding its dirty underpinnings. Its “secret nastiness” contrasts interestingly to the less oblique skank lurking in some other vintage fragrances. And compared to the modern aesthete of explicit “niceness,” it’s profound, really. Thanks for sharing a scent strip with me.

What’s on your sniffing list outside of vintage fragrances or older houses?

I’d like to experience all of the Comme des Garcons scents, though I don’t know if I would like to wear them all! Also, I’m hoping to smell the Thierry Mugler coffret soon. I am doing a story about the film “Perfume” and will mention the coffret in the report.

How would you describe the difference between perfume shopping in Europe versus the U.S.? Is there one? Do you feel, if there is one, that it affects how you look at perfumery? Does it affect the perfumes you find yourself wanting to smell or the houses you want to explore?

I don’t think people in Europe can really imagine the level of perfumes to be found at discounters (sometimes) for just a few dollars. I do miss that about shopping in the states. But what’s been fun for me are the lovely niche perfume stores I have visited lately in Vienna and Geneva. It’s really nice to have some knowledge about perfume, because I think many of the employees really like to engage in conversation about fragrance, but don’t always get to. And that knowledge gets you some respect even when you aren’t wearing expensive clothing. I have managed to have more-or-less intelligent conversations about perfume in three different languages in the last month! It’s really so wild. I love that perfume is more a part of the culture in Europe. I didn’t know Robert Piguet was Swiss until I was in Geneva speaking (bad French) with a lovely woman at a perfume shop in the old part of the city.

In Berlin we don’t really have one nice niche store that I have found, but I must admit I haven’t looked all over town. I love to go to Galerie Lafayette here, because they have a great selection and it’s partially unsupervised. I can’t stand SA’s jumping on me! Though some, it must be said, are charming. We also have a really unusual luxury department store which seems to have EVERY holy grail perfume – 10 Corso Como, Miller et Bertaux, Keiko Mecheri, lots of CdG. But almost all their perfumes are crammed onto trays together, so it’s hard to see what they have. They also have a huge special Malle area, but I only braved it briefly, and what I thought I would like I didn’t (Noir Epices) I talked to the SA at this store about CdG Tea – my holy grail, which I finally have promised to me from a Basenoter. I am afraid I will hate it, but it’s been a quest of mine since I started reading the blogs. We have a CdG Store which I haven’t visited yet. I don’t know how much in the way of fragrance they have, but it should be an adventure.

How long have you been “into” perfume? Meaning, how long has it been a hobby or subject of interest for you?

My most recent interest, which I would describe at more of a cultural/sociological level was in all honesty sparked by Chandler Burr’s article about Jean-Claude Ellena and his designing of special scents for Hermes in the New Yorker. And of course his book “The Emperor of Scent” is one of my favorites – I’ve returned to it several times. And after reading it last fall, I started doing research online, and reading perfume blogs! But I had in fact been collecting books and research on perfume several years ago, back while I worked on NPR’s Science Desk (from 1997-1999). I wanted to do a “science of perfume” story, but never got around to it. (It’s funny that the notion became so popular!) And I have to admit, that when I think back to my dresser in Washington, DC (where I last lived in the States), it was covered with perfume bottles! A lot of miniatures in really cute bottles and a lot of things bought unsniffed that I didn’t really enjoy as much as I enjoy trying and reading about perfumes now. I had to pack up and get rid of a lot of things when I moved to Europe, so I think I threw out a lot of things I’d like to revist. Like my Vivienne Westwood miniature set. Argh.

My mother didn’t really wear perfume (she says it smells strange on her) but she did sell Avon when I was little, so I remember their solid perfumes fondly – maybe more for the packaging than the scent! Fun to play with. But my first real perfume was Bal a Versailles. My friend’s mother wore it, and on a school trip to London, my friend and I both bought the perfume. It came in such a lovely tiny bottle, in a gold and white pouch, in a special box. Then I started finding the EdC spray in local stores – a white bottle with gold lettering and a gold cap. I wore that all the time, and my boyfriend loved it. It smelled a bit like Dr. Pepper! You can only find the EdT these days, which I don’t think is the same for me. I also wore KL (which is on sale here in Berlin – I don’t know how I feel about that!) and on occasion Opium. I went to a big “Giorgio” and “Poison” high school so those are two things I can’t bear. Certainly I also bought drugstore stuff like Exclamation and Samba, and some essential oils.

What are some of your current favorite perfumes?

Right now, I am wearing MpG Ambre Precieux – it’s a sample. I’ve been trying many different perfumes in samples, as it’s sort of more fun than committing. I have bought a couple of bottles in the last year, but the implied commitment isn’t always there! For instance L’Artisan Bois Farine, which I like but don’t always turn to. I’ve also become interested in lot of “men’s” perfumes. Someone spritzed Guerlain’s L’Homme Instant Extreme on me in Heathrow airport last Christmas, and I made a face and bought two other things, but couldn’t stop smelling my arm an hour later. I finally tracked it down, but the top notes are a little rough. I like sandalwood, spices, amber. I’m not big on most flowers. A friend sent me a tiny sample of Michael Kors (almost all had leaked out in shipping) I was blown away by it. I was shocked. I think it was a Proustian experience of some sort – maybe reminding me of Tuberoses bought with an Indian-American friend in the flower market in Los Angeles, mixed with Gardenias from the front yard of my childhood home. I don’t know if I could wear it, but I like smelling it. I just completed my first MUA swap which will include a sample of Fracas – I live in fear of it, but I want to know! Oh, also, I just got a sample of M. Micallef Gaiac. It’s spicy, woody, sweet, mouthwatering. There might be a cotton candy undertone. I think I love it.

My thanks to Ms. Stone for sharing her thoughts, it was fun!

Coming up in the next week, I’ll finally share what I found when I cracked open a bottle of Jacques Fath’s first fragrance release, Chasuble, and after that hopefully something a little newer, too, since I’ve been trying the Les Nez fragrances off and on for the past few weeks.

All photos in this article were taken by Susan Stone, who has graciously allowed them to be published at Scentzilla. You can find more of her interesting photography, including shots of unusual subjects and street objects, at Flickr.

Upon the occasion of the infamous Neiman Marcus Christmas catalog’s listing of the collected archives of Jacques Fath, I figured a brief choppy history of the man and his house might be in order. Of course, I am sure I could do a much better job of it if anyone would like to loan me a spare $3.5 million dollars… I swear I can totally pay you back!

Jacques Fath

(September 6, 1912 - November 13, 1954)

Jacques Fath began his fashion house in a small two-roomed salon on Rue de la Boetie, presenting his first collection in 1937. He later moved in 1940 to Rue Francois Premier¹, and then in 1944 settled into a studio at 39 Avenue Pierre 1er de Serbie.

Fath took a number of young designers under his wing, though perhaps the best known of the assistants he hired were Hubert de Givenchy, Guy Laroche, and Valentino². He also drew upon the talents of shoe designer Andre Perugia³.

The Paris studio Fath operated was fortunate to remain open during the entirety of Nazi occupation during WWII. His relative occupation-era success, viewed in certain quarters as a direct result of cooperating with the Germans and kowtowing to Vichy pressures, has only recently entered the discourse in the past decade. His association with various Nazi-Vichy sympathizers and a comparatively wealthy German clientele during those years certainly tarnished his status as a designer amongst some modern critics. Much of the credit for this discussion can apparently be attributed to Vallerie Guillaume’s 1993 book Jacques Fath, which looks into the house’s history. (I am hoping someday I will get my grubby little hands on Guillaume’s book. The book is neither easy nor cheap to find in the States, but I would love to read it.) However, it is also due to a slow but growing willingness to examine the survival strategies of ALL those famous French houses, not only Fath’s.

The period of French design during Nazi control is rarely discussed widely, but merits mentioning for historical context. Parisian designers like Maggy Rouff (who some of you perfume-nuts may know by association with Paul Poiret of Parfums Rosine, who sold designs to her), Marcel Rochas, Nina Ricci and others, also somehow kept afloat. They perisisted, despite their houses being practically decimated by the time Paris was free again. This was not due to the various designers’ artistic, or in some cases moral, inflexibility. Lucien Lelong, for instance, was also affected by the Mode Martiale of WWII; He was one of the more prominent designers to have talks directly with the German textile and fashion officials⁵ in his capacity as the design community’s nominated leader. Amongst other things, Lelong successfully dissuaded them from relocating the Parisians to establish Berlin and Vienna as the premier fashion capitals, diminishing France’s preeminence in the industry. The bureaucratic Nazis micromanaged every conceivable facet of life during their take-over, and the fashion industry was granted no exceptions. Author Valerie Steele notes⁴,

“…the Vichy regime adopted a fashion discourse similar to that in Facist Italy and Nazi Germany, stressing nationalism and conservative social values. Fashion designers were encouraged to draw inspiration from regional or ‘folk’ costumes; Jacques Fath, for example, designed dresses inspired by peasant costume. Fashion magazines were also encouraged to extol the traditional Frenchwoman, as opposed to the cosmopolitan Parisienne.”

A number of German-demanded regulations were bootstrapped onto all French designers, right down to which fabrics and the lengths of those fabrics that could be used. (Hence, the shorter hemline came into vogue.) Even the dates of release for the meager Paris collections were dictated by the German government.⁵

Lelong, of course, shook off the perception that he may have been a collaborator, later being granted status as a hero (Croix de Guerre and the Legion of Honor) due to his leadership in working for France’s intrests. Perhaps in contrast, we might glance over at Coco Chanel. The Nazi sympathies of Coco Chanel are widely known, due to her literal sleeping with the enemy. Yet Chanel is one of the most recogizable names in fashion. Ask the average person about Lelong, Fath, or other contemporaries, and you will only receive an empty-eyed “who?” in response. Exemplary behavior during that time clearly hasn’t been a necessary condition for achieving renown. Opening up the whole subject for further evaluation will hopefully occur even more over the years to come: This period for designers is historically interesting, and a story that may prove interesting to readers outside of costuming and fashion study.

At war’s end, the liberated French designers celebrated with profound creative renewal, most notably in the inspiring “New Look.” Christian Dior is regularly credited with the genesis of the “New Look,” yet it is not hard to see the premonitions and seeds of this movement in Fath’s earlier designs. In fact, there was even a bit of feud between Fath and Dior. Magazines devoted coverage to it, splashing headlines such as “Dior Contre Fath” (pictured) across their feature pages. What interesting things might have eventually evolved out of this rivalry we will never know, as Fath died at the young age of 42, while Dior went on to acheive even greater heights of popularity.

Fath’s eagerness to break into the American market and his ambitious pursuit of that goal, may have also been cause for scorn amongst his Parisian peers. In 1948, the New York-based clothier Joseph Halpert contracted with Fath to design special ready-to-wear collections for sales in the American market. (One such Halpert collection is Fath’s 1950 Puritan collection, whose theme rather funnily, to me, fetishizes the “American” aesthete.) Many of the cuts of his clothing from this time emphasize a fitted form, accentuating thin waists and using lines that minimally curve with the body.

Fath most famously sold his designs in the US at Neiman Marcus, some apparel bearing labels of both the famous store’s name and the designer’s. Neiman Marcus went so far as to bestow him with an “Award for Distinguished Service in the Field of Fashion” in appreciation. Time magazine noted of the occasion⁶:

“Couturier Jacques Fath, in Dallas to accept a fashion prize from the Neiman-Marcus store, got all dressed up in native costume (Western-style plaid shirt by Jacques Fath, glass-studded white leather belt by Neiman-Marcus, blue denim britches by Sears, Roebuck). Concluding that the U.S. square dance is ‘wonderful, wonderful,’ he announced that Paris would hear of the sport just as soon as he got home.”

His work soon became especially popular with the American women, and celebrites including Jacqueline Kennedy, Josephine Baker, and Rita Hayworth all wore his designs. He even designed Rita Hayworth’s wedding dress for the occasion of her marriage to Aly Khan in 1949. Additionally, his costume design for the Hollywood film The Red Shoes is quite well known, though he did contribute to a few others. His dress patterns through Vogue’s sewing pattern company also sold rather well to average women who enjoyed his style but couldn’t afford anything from his lines.

In 1939 he married Genevieve Boucher de la Bruyere, a celebrated “mannequin” and former secretary to Coco Chanel. The couple had one child, Philippe, born in 1943⁷. (Phillipe in turn had two children⁸, however the rights to the name have long been sold off, and I don’t believe they have any involvement with their grandfather’s house.) After Jacques died, the house briefly carried on for a few years under Mme. Fath’s direction until 1957. A number of the designs released under Genevieve’s time are as appealing as those M. Fath himself put out. The photo book Stella, about a frequent Fath mannequin named Stella Maret, demonstrates a fantastic range of designs issued in the years following M. Fath’s death. Genevieve was instrumental not only in keeping the name alive, but also in terms of creative input to her husband during his lifetime. What I find most touching about Fath’s story is not his beautiful clothing, or even his perfumes… it is this lovely woman, who had smarts behind her beauty. It is her influence which shaped many of his collections and the photography showing off his designs. She was a remarkable source of inspiration, but sometimes remained hidden behind the title of “wife.”

Fath himself was less than generous towards the female gender as a whole. He had notably declared⁹, “Women are bad fashion designers. The only role a woman should have in fashion is wearing clothes,” and “Fashion is an art and men are the artists.”

Jacques Fath was a flawed, imperfect man, but one with impeccable taste and talent. If we go rooting around into his contemporaries’ lives, I feel we’d come to much the same conclusions about them. But to whitewash is to render a subject dimensionless, and Fath deserves more than a flat treatment. And better than my pitifully edited summary, too.

The following is a complete list of perfumes made under the Jacques Fath label, some with brief olfactory information.

Perfumes released by Fath during his lifetime:

1945: Chasuble, floral woody oriental
1946: Iris Gris, floral fruity woody: perfumer Vincent Roubert
1950: Canasta, fruity chypre: not sure, but has perfumer Vincent Roubert’s fingerprints all over it
1953: Fath de Fath, floral woody and musky oriental
1953: Green Water, green aromatic citrus woody (for men): perfumer Vincent Roubert

Perfumes released under the Fath name after it was licensed to L’oreal:

1968: Fath’s Love, sparkling tuberose floral
1972: Ellipse
1977: Expression, floriental chypre

Perfumes, released and/or reforumulated & re-released, as the house experienced a revival in the 90s include:

1994: Fath de Fath, remade as fruity floriental with strong vanillic emphasis by perfumers Haarmann and Reimer¹⁰
1996: Eau de Fath¹¹
1998: Pour L’Homme (sometimes called simply “Jacques Fath”), fresh floriental (for men)
1999: Yin, fresh floriental
1999: Yang, green woody oriental (for men)

1. Elements of Fashion and Style, p.115, by G.J. Sumathi
2. Time, Feb. 5, 2003, “Is There A Future In Fashion’s Past?”
3. http://www.historyofashion.com/historyofashion/shoeperugia.html
4. Fifty Years of Fashion: New Look to Now, p.9, by Valerie Steele
5. Fashion Under the Occupation, various including appendix, by Miriam Kochan and Dominique Veillon
6. Time Magazine, 19 September, 1949, notes
7. Paris Match, 18 March, 1950
8. fashionfinds.com, site now defunct
9. Women Designers in the USA 1900 to 2000: Diversity and Difference, p. 194, by Pat Kirkham
10. New Perfume Handbook, p. 166, by Nigel Groom
11. Years of release for Eau de Fath through Yang via Basenotes.net.

UPDATE: There’s a great little short film showing off Fath clothing from 1956 on You Tube… just wonderful! For some reason I am having trouble embedding it today, so here’s a link to the You Tube page: Jacques Fath 1956

I’ve long wanted to post a brief history of one of the more fascinating and slightly arcane perfume houses of the last century. Weil perfumes are interesting, but the story of the Weils and their house is perhaps even more interesting. Although I am a huge fan, I knew I’d botch the story if I tried to tell it. Instead, I’ve turned to someone whom I consider THE expert on all things Weil, Jill Martin Clements (aka rockinruby on eBay and elsewhere in internetland)… Well, okay, THE expert aside from the Weils themselves, that is! I am humbled by her generosity in writing the piece below, and never stop being impressed by her passion and knowledge on the subject. She is a woman of exquisite tastes, and an excellent writer. Please note that several of the images can be clicked upon and viewed as a larger file in your browser window, in order to better see the details. Enjoy:

House of Weil, by Jill Martin Clements:

The perfume house of Weil has a rich history filled with stunningly beautiful perfumes, as well as drama and turmoil representative of the experience of so many 20th century European design houses. It is, at its heart, a family story. But a family story writ large — encompassing the drama of the fashion world, international marketing, and the heartbreak of World War.

I have been a lover of Weil perfumes for many years. Always, the more I learn, the more deeply connected I feel to this house. I believe that Weil was truly one of the great houses of Parisian parfumerie, and deserves to take its place alongside Lanvin, Guerlain, and Chanel.

After so many years of feeling as if I was the last person on earth to remember and revere the perfumes of Weil, I had the great good fortune to meet the grandson of Marcel Weil, as well as his family. I have had the opportunity, through conversations and correspondence, to pick his brain about his family history, and he has been gracious and accommodating at every turn. It has truly been an honor and a delight to know this family, and I am indebted to Dan Weil for almost all of the information that follows….bear in mind that many dates and details come from family anecdotes, rather than written documents, so take it all with at least a small grain of salt. (1)

In 1912, Alfred Weil founded a fur business, Les Fourrures Weil. He was soon joined in business by his two brothers, Jacques and Marcel. Alfred was the buyer; Jacques the salesman, and Marcel was in charge of creation and design.

In 1927, during the very height of the glitz and glamour of the Roaring 20’s, Marcel was approached by one of their regular customers, who requested “fur perfume” for her fine furs. Marcel liked the idea, and founded Parfums Weil. He was then joined by his brothers in this venture, as well, though Marcel took primary control of the perfume business, while Jacques retained primary control of the fur business. After Marcel’s death in 1933 of pneumonia, Jacques and Alfred assumed control of all perfume operations, as well.

The first perfumes created for Weil — the so-called “fur perfumes” — were created by Claude Fraysse, who had worked with Firmenich in Geneva, and was the official “nose” for Yardley Perfumes. The Fraysse family is one of great import in the perfume world. One of Claude’s sons, Andre, created Arpege for Lanvin, and another, Hubert, ran the scent company Synarome. His daughter Jacqueline was a gifted perfumer, as well. The initial line of “fur perfumes” debuted in 1928, with Claude responsible for the first three scents:

• Zibeline, a floral chypre intended to recall the steppes and massive oak forests of Imperial Russia,
• Chinchilla Royal, rich with jasmine and roses to evoke the splendour of the Persian and Indian Empires, and
• Hermine, intended to symbolize tenderness and virginity, it was heavy with the sweet flowers of the Pacific Isles.

Although Claude was the nose, Jacqueline worked closely with him on these scents, as well. The Fraysse family remained involved in the creation of Weil’s scents for years to come, as Une Fleur was created by Claude, Bambou, Cassandra, and Noir by Jacqueline, and Antilope (the 2nd, successful version — there was an earlier failure) by Hubert.

Those first bottles were produced by Baccarat. All Weil perfume bottles would be made by Baccarat from 1927 until 1954.

The first Eau de Toilettes (Zibeline and Chinchilla) were introduced in 1930.

In 1940, the family was forced to close the Paris operation and for a short period of time moved to Bordeaux. In 1942, during the occupation of France, the Nazis confiscated the business and gave it to a German baron and his girlfriend. More on this in a moment.

By this time, Alfred and Jacques had fled Europe and settled in New York. They bought their distributor’s business and set up production for a time in the US as Societe Parfums Weil Paris, Inc., at 745 Fifth Ave., New York. Jacques took primary control of the US business, and launched production in the US with Zibeline and Cassandra. They had some difficulty recreating the other scents with materials available in wartime NY, and during their attempts they produced an unplanned mixture that they liked and called Cobra. Cobra debuted in the US in June 1941. It is not believed that Cobra was ever sold outside of the US.

Although the ad above at right is quite sedate, Cobra generally had a remarkably sexy ad campaign — fabulous Art Nouveau lithos of women, and a simple sample card with the tag line, “Eve was warned.” [Ed. note: The print magazine ads, such as the one pictured left, used a longer variant on the tag line, “Eve had been warned.”]

They followed up with Gri Gri in 1943 which featured native African tribal art for the ad campaign.

Secret de Venus Huile Pour le Bain (also sometimes seen as Huile Pour le Bain et Douche or Bath and Body Perfume Oil) was introduced in the US in 1941, and in France in 1947. It was always marketed as a more or less American product, and was never as popular in Europe. This line ultimately included numerous scents; all of them would include the “Secret de Venus” designation, yet remain available in their original perfume form without that designation, as well, thus causing great confusion over the years!!

This line has always been my favorite, and intrigues me no end. I have never fully gotten to the bottom of the story, as I maintain that scents released as Secret de Venus oils smell markedly different from their standard counterparts. I have long wondered what, precisely, the crazy secret of Venus IS, as it seems to irresistably alter all of
the fragrances it touches. There is an animalic warmth and depth to all of the oil-based scents which makes them maddeningly sexy, and as long lasting as any scent I’ve ever tried.

My favorite — my “Holy Grail,” if you will — is Secret de Venus Zibeline. The scent opens with a warm blast of citrus and musk, and shifts into some pretty florals for a time, but it is the eternal drydown rich in ambergris and civet that holds my attention for life. This scent is so animalic as to be dangerous! It’s interesting to
note that as strongly as I feel about Secret de Venus Zibeline, I am completely lukewarm about Zibeline on it’s own. There is a decided difference between them.

The notes officially listed for Zibeline in the H&R Book Fragrance Guide to the Feminine Notes are:

Top: Aldehydes, bergamot, lemon, coriander, estragon
Middle: Orient Rose, jasmin, lily of the valley, ylang-ylang, orris, gardenia
Base: Vetiver, civet, sandalwood, amber, musk, honey, tonka

I am not sure how accurate these notes are, as there is a pronounced oceanic edge to this scent. I read one reviewer describe the smell of oysters, which made me laugh. When I provided a sample of the oil to a well-known perfumer working today, she immediately declared the base to be ambergris, civet, and musk. So it is possible that the listed notes should actually list ambergris rather than amber.

Antilope is another fine example of the dichotomy between the simple format and the Secret de Venus version. Antilope is an elegant woody floral which I think has been undervalued as it is so widely available. It just seems to be taken for granted. Make no mistake, it is a stunningly beautiful fragrance rich in sophistication.

Like Zibeline, the perfume formulation of Antilope is exceedingly polite. The base notes are listed as cedarwood, vetiver, leather, musk, and amber, yet as Antilope, it’s so light on the leather and musk as to render them unrecognizable. Once reworked into the Secret de Venus formulation, though, it shifts into bombshell territory, with a strong, womanly drydown becoming apparent and lingering for a day or more.

But I digress…..back to our story…

Meanwhile, back in France, the Nazi-sponsored baron and his girlfriend optimistically registered some wonderfully glamouous perfume names: Nuit de Fete, Filles de Joie, Tournant Dangereux, Pigeon Vole, and Flament Rose in 1943, followed by Fleur dans la Fourrure, Privautes, Grisailles, Escarpins, Coq A L’ane, Contre Jour, Cheritzou, Chamarade, Beau, Masque, Asence, and Padisha in 1944.

It is believed that of these, only Flament Rose was ever actually launched as a perfume — at least during the Nazi occupation and control of the company: Padisha was created and released after the war when control of the company reverted to the family. This has led to confusion, as I have encountered people searching for some of these “registered” names that were never made into perfumes!

Flament Rose was released in early 1944. Around this time, the Baron fled Paris; his girlfriend married a French citizen, and both disappeared into the fog of history. Paris was liberated in August 1944.

During this period, we have the introduction of another rather confusing scent/line of scents. Un brin de lavande was originally registered in 1941. In 1944, its name was changed to Gentilhomme (La Lavande Gentilhomme). In 1950, the Lavande Gentilhomme range was expanded to include a Lotion and a Secret de Venus oil formulation (called Lavande). In October 1951,Gentilhomme was replaced by Lavande Bleue. In 1962, Lavande Bleue was discontinued. In 1966, a new line called Gentilhomme was launched, and eventually discontinued in 1983. We do not know for sure if the scent changed each time, or just the name, though Dan Weil believes that the changes introduced in 1951 and 1966 represented new fragrances.

After the war the brothers returned to Paris. Jacques was active until 1957, and Alfred somewhat until 1964. In 1947, Marcel’s son Jean-Pierre Weil took over the lab. He had already worked as an apprentice at Firmenich, Chiris, and Roure Bertrand. And for a time, they continued producing fantastic perfume.

Weil was producing their pefumes in the 16th arrondissement, in a very old building. They may have been the last major perfume house to produce perfumes in Paris proper. The 16th is a posh residential area, and running this business there was probably a fire hazard. By the early 1960’s, the Parisian authorities told the brothers that they needed to bring the factory up to current code, or move out of Paris. The family did not have the money to do either, as the Germans had taken most of their assets during the war.

Another of Marcel’s sons, Claude James Armand Weil, was not working at the time, and the family asked him to go to Paris to oversee the sale of the company in 1962. He found it in terrible shape and unsaleable, so he stayed on to try to turn it around. When it was improved, he sold it in 1964 to an Algerian family, the Aboulkers.

Claude stayed to run the business for the new owners, along with Jean-Pierre as the perfumer and a cousin, Jean-Paul as Commercial Director. Jean-Pierre officially left the employ of the company in 1971 to focus on creation at Creations Aromatique, but continued creating Weil’s perfumes until 1977 (Chunga was his last). Claude
remained with the company until around 1974. So although the Weil family no longer owned Parfums Weil, they were very much involved well into the 70s.

I do not know with certainty when the Aboulkers sold the company, or whether they sold it directly to InterParfums (the current owners) or if there was another owner in between.

What follows is the sequence of introduction of the perfumes created during the time the Weil family ran the company. This list does not include any perfumes released after the departure of the 2nd generation of Weil brothers in the 70’s. These dates are for perfume only, and does not include all of the various permutations and formulations. Retraction dates are listed only when known with certainty.

• Zibeline - 1928
• Chinchilla Royal - 1928-1963
• Hermine -1931-1940
• Une Fleur - 1931-1941
• Bambou - 1934-1955
• Cassandra - 1936-1969
• Noir-1937 - 1969
• Un Brin de Lavande/Gentilhomme/Lavande Bleue - 1941
• Antilope - 1943/1948
• Flamant Rose - 1944-1944
• Padisha -1947-1963
• Weil de Weil - 1971
• Chunga - 1977

NOTES:
1. Some information comes via Dan Weil from previously written notes of Bernard Le Corvaisier, who was Commercial Director of Weil for a time beginning in 1967.

Many of the images above come courtesy of Jill, with the following exceptions: The two Cobra advertisements, the photo of Antilope and SdV Antilope bottles, the photo of the Antilope and Lavande Bleue vials.