Celebrity perfume is a lucrative market estimated to be worth £255m in the UK alone. One in five of women aged between 16 to 24 wears a celebrity scent, according to market researcher Mintel. It's about buying into a lifestyle they aspire to, it says.
— From Eau de Bruce - what does Die Hard smell like? at BBC News, with thanks to Fleur for the link!
“…a lifestyle they aspire to”? Let’s see–DUAs, drugs, paparazzi, total loss of privacy, serial divorces–no thanks! I don’t give a hoot about being rich and famous–but I would love to be rich and obscure.
Rich and obscure. I can aspire to that.
Hah, I agree. Rich and obscure is the way to go. I do don’t want to be famous either. But apparently, because I have a Britney Spears perfume (what? it smells like cupcakes! It was a gift! I swear!) that means I want to wander around drinking Starbucks while wearing inappropriate outfits. Err… well, maybe I do.
My Britney wasn’t a gift. So maybe that means I aspire to flashing in public more than you do!
Well, when you put it that way….
I think we all should wander around drinking Starbucks in inappropriate outfits.
I would go for that.
I think it’s more about lack of availability and knowledge. When a woman decides to find “her” scent, it’s difficult to know where and how to begin. Most begin with the mall. I did, and it was disappointing. It took years to build enough interest to move to the internet, stumble upon perfume sites, and begin ordering samples. More years to find something that I REALLY wanted to wear.
It might never even occur to many people to search for perfume blogs or perfume vendors on the internet. For most, their knowledge of perfumes is probably limited to what is in the department stores and malls or what they see advertised on TV. I had no idea of the vast range of fragrances available until quite recently. I found TPC, BE, Aedes, and others from the links and ads on NST, which I found because it was mentioned in The Guide, which I found searching B&N’s site for perfume books, looking for something more up-to-date than my copy of Jan Moran’s book, which I had just happened to spot in the bookstore about 15 years ago.
Dissed, I think you’re right.
OK, maybe I’m just showing my ignorance here, but I was a little surprised that this would be such a big business in the UK. I was under the impressions that British women didn’t wear much perfume. I know OJ is an English brand, but that is more of a niche line, and there are always going to be a few nonconformists who defy convention. Was I mistaken, or are things changing with the younger generations (as they always do, of course)?
I would guess, based on frequent scent shopping during a couple of trips to the UK over the last three years, that the British wear at least as much fragrance as North Americans, and probably more; the drugstores invariably have big selections, the department stores likewise, and London, at least, has a whole lot of freestanding shops that sell nothing but.
I have never been to the UK, but I would love to go sometime. Concerning perfume shopping overseas–have you had any trouble with getting the stuff home? They tell you not to put valuables (and I consider perfume to be valuable) in checked luggage, but with all the new airline restrictions, there is no way to take much of it in a carry-on. I worry that if I put it in my checked luggage, it will get broken or stolen. Shipping it back home to yourself apparently is very expensive and raises issues with customs, VAT refunds, etc. What do you do?
As I have said in a previous thread (sorry to be so boring and repetitive), I bought four Serge Lutens, two 50-mL sprays and two 75-mL bell jars (and got a bunch of samples), plus a bunch of duty-free.
As you know, you get to bring a one-litre clear plastic bag on the plane with you, so this time around, I relegated all my liquid toiletries to a checked bag and put the two 50-mL sprays, still in their boxes, and all the samples into that bag in my carry-on. Didn’t have any trouble with it going through security.
Everything else went into my checked bags, because there was just so much of it, and the bell jars wouldn’t fit in the bag. I bought a roll of packing tape and taped up the bell-jar boxes so that there was no possibility the stoppers would come loose, not that I thought they would anyway; then I wrapped them in three layers of plastic bags just in case, nestled them inside many layers of clothing, and hoped for the best. The duty-free, since I had to change planes, went into another piece of luggage, again wrapped up in multiple plastic bags and then bundled inside lots of clothing.
Everything arrived in perfect condition, except that one of the samples in the one-litre bag–which of course was in my carry-on–somehow got spritzed, so everything in that bag consequently smelled very Serge-y. But I had no trouble otherwise. Your mileage may vary, of course; there’s always the possibility of breakage, because they don’t treat luggage nicely (there’s no time), and you would take the risk that something would get stolen. I don’t know how likely that is, though, because I think the sort of people who would steal from the luggage they’re handling are going to be looking for things they can sell–jewellery and electronics–or maybe things they can give as gifts, and the latest Britney Spears or Mariah Carey is probably going to catch their eye more than a By Kilian or Frederic Malle would. I think.
I briefly considered mailing some things back to myself, but it didn’t seem worth the trouble, and the risk really is not lessened in the postal system, is it? Things get broken and lost there, too.
Thanks for the info!
‘…London, at least, has a whole lot of freestanding shops that sell nothing but.’ Not that many: only three that I know of that can be called ‘parfumeries’ – Les Senteurs, Beauty Base and those small booths in shopping centres – selling various brands. All the others – Penhaligon’s, Ormonde Jaynes, etc. – are dedicated to one specific brand.
Paris has masses of parfumeries – small private ones and large ones with multiple branches, like Marionnaud and Sephora (that flopped in London). I miss them.
British women drench themselves in perfume, as anyone who’s had the misfortune to travel on the Underground at rush hour can testify.
‘One in five of women aged between 16 to 24 wears a celebrity scent…’ Don’t we know it!
Maybe I’m just perverse, but a silly part of me wants some of Bruce’s perfume.
I bet if you ask any random 16-24 year-old gal what she aspires to be she will not say “a celebrity.”
There is something so patronizing about that notion, I don’t think young women aspire to that at all, at least not the ones I know! Market researchers know a lot but I feel like they seriously underestimate young women. I’m sure this stat has more to do with the fact that the market is flooded with celeb fragrances than anything else.
It’s true that for someone starting out in the scent world there is bewildering range of choice which at any one moment it is dominated by the latest celebrity releases. But look, if a young woman is interested and curious, she will find her way past all that. Bad fragrances are like bad books. They fail to satisfy after a while.
There will always be curious, discerning, intelligent customers, just as there are readers of books, and they will find their way.
Adding: perhaps my optimism is fed by the fact that where I live, usually, celebrity fragrances are sold in department stores along side the Chanels and Diors etc (nothing niche of course). But a development in the last 10 years or so are stand-alone discount perfume outlets. These places are full of celeb fragrances as well as other nameless, clueless fragrances that I’ve never heard of but which I suspect get dumped on these places.
A lot of perfume newbies would start out in these places b/c they are cheap and have lots of testers, and staff are often the same ages as the customers, ie about 20. (There is no snobbery in these places, at least.) But of course the customer gets little exposure to the really good stuff – it’s just not there, so how could they fin it? That’s the really worrying trend.