Perfume
They have a perfume, you know. They do. You can buy it in Superdrug. There is a poster of the couple in the shop window, in a sophisticated yet saucy pose, apparently inspired by the cover of the Mastermind boardgame. Victoria presses up against her husband and gives her signature look- Blue Steel!- the kind of pose that’s meant to accentuate her cheekbones, but ends up giving her face a freakish angularity, as if she’s stuffed protractors in her mouth. Behind her, David looks absented and seigniorial, clearly lost in the task of pinching his wife’s bum. Inside the shop, there is a promotional stand, with purple drapes and two separate his’n’hers scents, presented in heavy glass decanters with great cut stoppers, like love potions in cartoons.
It’s not unique, either. In fact, there’s a whole Fantasia of signature scents lining the back wall in here- perfumes by Paris Hilton, P Diddy, J-Lo, Cindy Crawford, and Naomi Campbell, among plenty of others. Most of the bottles are labelled with punchy sounding nouns and adjectives– Instinct! Curious!; if you added the definite article, you’d have a comprehensive round up of New York garage bands circa 2001. There are a few exceptions- the Sarah Jessica Parker scent, for example, goes for a strangely lukewarm “Lovely”, which is exactly what a friend might say if you bought it for them; it’s the closest thing to calling a perfume “You Shouldn’t Have”. And perhaps it's best not to mention the Jade Goody scent, which is called “Shhh…”, presumably so that you can say “Smells like Shhh… in here”. Looking at the range, the overall effect is of one more staging post in the refinement of celebrity. Already these stars exist independently of their actual purpose and even their surnames; the next logical step is to move beyond matter entirely, to establish themselves as a fragrance, a sweet abstraction moving freely among the Children of the Air. Perhaps these bottles of fragrance are the ultimate distillation of fame. Because what in the world else could they contain?
Well, let’s see. E and I make our rounds of the tester bottles. The scents are obviously geared towards teens and tweens. They all smell light and impossibly sweet- apart from Jade Goody’s “Shhh…”, which layers floral disinfectant on a base of something vile beyond belief (You can only imagine the blackness in the heart of the perfumier who discovers he’s been handed the Jade Goody account). And what of the Beckhams? Victoria’s fragrance smells like mothballs and oranges. In what may or may not be a particularly audacious act of cross-marketing, David’s smells like Pepsi Cola. It leads you to wonder whether, in the future, the web of brands connected to the Beckhams may decide to cut out the middleman, and just refer directly to each other. You put Pepsi and Adidas and Gillette in the same room together, and David Beckham emerges by inference- a kind of genie of branding, a personality articulated by his endorsements.
Maybe I’m being cynical. Maybe these perfumes perform a useful function. Maybe they offer a prop to insecure kids who want the comfort of their hero’s presence in their lives. In earlier times, these kids would have clutched at a saint’s relic to get them through the day; now the millions of atoms of P-Diddy floating around their neck provide the same service. The Beckham his’n’hers scents push that model a little further: not only articulating the stars’ personalities but also their coupledom. I imagine these are targeted towards teenage girls who worry about keeping their boyfriends, and see joint branding as the best way to cement the relationship- for what, after all, is Posh without Becks, Becks without Posh? And this points to a sweet correspondence between stars and audience. As their individual gifts fade, what the Beckhams give to each other is exactly what Homer Simpson offered to Marge- absolute dependency. Perhaps, when they invoke the Beckhams as their inspiration, the teenagers intuit what the posters never say- that the golden couple stays together because they can't survive alone, that their USP is their insecurity, something teenagers understand very well. No wonder David looks preoccupied...
It’s not unique, either. In fact, there’s a whole Fantasia of signature scents lining the back wall in here- perfumes by Paris Hilton, P Diddy, J-Lo, Cindy Crawford, and Naomi Campbell, among plenty of others. Most of the bottles are labelled with punchy sounding nouns and adjectives– Instinct! Curious!; if you added the definite article, you’d have a comprehensive round up of New York garage bands circa 2001. There are a few exceptions- the Sarah Jessica Parker scent, for example, goes for a strangely lukewarm “Lovely”, which is exactly what a friend might say if you bought it for them; it’s the closest thing to calling a perfume “You Shouldn’t Have”. And perhaps it's best not to mention the Jade Goody scent, which is called “Shhh…”, presumably so that you can say “Smells like Shhh… in here”. Looking at the range, the overall effect is of one more staging post in the refinement of celebrity. Already these stars exist independently of their actual purpose and even their surnames; the next logical step is to move beyond matter entirely, to establish themselves as a fragrance, a sweet abstraction moving freely among the Children of the Air. Perhaps these bottles of fragrance are the ultimate distillation of fame. Because what in the world else could they contain?
Well, let’s see. E and I make our rounds of the tester bottles. The scents are obviously geared towards teens and tweens. They all smell light and impossibly sweet- apart from Jade Goody’s “Shhh…”, which layers floral disinfectant on a base of something vile beyond belief (You can only imagine the blackness in the heart of the perfumier who discovers he’s been handed the Jade Goody account). And what of the Beckhams? Victoria’s fragrance smells like mothballs and oranges. In what may or may not be a particularly audacious act of cross-marketing, David’s smells like Pepsi Cola. It leads you to wonder whether, in the future, the web of brands connected to the Beckhams may decide to cut out the middleman, and just refer directly to each other. You put Pepsi and Adidas and Gillette in the same room together, and David Beckham emerges by inference- a kind of genie of branding, a personality articulated by his endorsements.
Maybe I’m being cynical. Maybe these perfumes perform a useful function. Maybe they offer a prop to insecure kids who want the comfort of their hero’s presence in their lives. In earlier times, these kids would have clutched at a saint’s relic to get them through the day; now the millions of atoms of P-Diddy floating around their neck provide the same service. The Beckham his’n’hers scents push that model a little further: not only articulating the stars’ personalities but also their coupledom. I imagine these are targeted towards teenage girls who worry about keeping their boyfriends, and see joint branding as the best way to cement the relationship- for what, after all, is Posh without Becks, Becks without Posh? And this points to a sweet correspondence between stars and audience. As their individual gifts fade, what the Beckhams give to each other is exactly what Homer Simpson offered to Marge- absolute dependency. Perhaps, when they invoke the Beckhams as their inspiration, the teenagers intuit what the posters never say- that the golden couple stays together because they can't survive alone, that their USP is their insecurity, something teenagers understand very well. No wonder David looks preoccupied...
posted by Ben Good at 4:40 pm
4 Comments:
Ben,
You have, inadvertently, discouraged me from giving up fags. My olfactory senses are poor and allow me to drift through perfume departments without scrunching-up my snout (which is large).
How did you manage it? Is this primary research for your new career?
Interesting observations. Like the 'distillation of fame'. Cheesy. Would sound good from a podium.
Anonymous,
I guess my sense of smell is pretty lousy too- in fact, it's not, properly speaking, a sense at all, and should by rights undergo a Pluto style downgrading. My snout came pre-scrunched though, so I don't have to worry about that.
Choosing the right perfume can be difficult and because it is also considered an intimate gift buying the wrong perfume
can backfire on you and get you the opposite result of that which you hoped for.
The first thing you need to do is do some homework, meaning research. Look at your lady's perfume bottles, the ones that
are nearly empty will be her favorites. If there is one there that is nearly full chances are she doesn't wear it often
or doesn't like it. Hint around and ask her what types of fragrances she likes and dislikes.
Humans are very sensory oriented and our sense of smell is no different. Certain perfumes can elicit strong reactions in
both the wearer and the person reacting to the scent. Perfumes are made not only to attract but to also relax someone. If
you aren't totally sure what kind of perfume to buy you can always play it safe and get something in the aromatherapy
line. If you go this route, bear in mind that vanilla scents are considered to relax and a peppermint or lemon scent will
be more stimulating.
The history of perfume oils dates back to ancient Egypt when these fine scented oils were presented to royalty as gifts. In modern times, however, when the word "perfume" is said, most people think of department store fragrances, which consist mainly of the concentrated oil and alcohol solution. Nevertheless, as more and more people are finding out about them, perfume oils are experiencing great popularity. Here are some interesting facts about perfume oils:
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