Not long ago, I showed a coworker a painting hanging outside my office door. It’s of a vase of daisies in a garish gold frame. “Phyllis Diller made that,” I told her. Thomas Lauderdale of Pink Martini managed to wrangle an audience with Diller not long before her death, and she donated the painting for a charity auction hosted by the AIDS service organization I work for.
“Who’s Phyllis Diller?” my coworker asked. I was flabbergasted. Sure, the coworker is in her early 20s, and Diller hadn’t exactly been in the public eye for a while, but to me Phyllis Diller was as much a part of American culture as Mount Rushmore. Or at least the Corn Palace.
Over the next few days, my thoughts turned to perfume. Would this coworker recognize another classic, Guerlain Shalimar? Nope, she’d never heard of it. I didn’t have the heart to do a smell test. I had the feeling that the civet funk of the vintage Eau de Toilette wouldn’t impress her.
That day I learned a lesson the perfume industry has already taken to heart: many people don’t know the classic fragrances anymore. Sure, they’ve heard of Jean Patou Joy and Chanel No. 5, but they probably couldn’t identify them by smell. And they most likely wouldn’t be impressed if they could.
A few decades ago, when new fragrance launches were much less common and women wore their signature perfume for life, people revered Christian Dior Miss Dior and Givenchy L’Interdit. Even the average high school graduate knew that bottle of Worth Je Reviens at the Bon Ton department store deserved a prime spot on the vanity.
Today, the number of perfume literate is dwindling. The perfume industry has reacted by “modernizing” the classics, and as a result too often turning them banal. Maybe Chanel No. 5 Eau Première is an exception, but Chanel Coco Noir and Chanel No. 19 Poudré pander to the love of fruit and easy florals. Christian Dior Miss Dior usurped the old Miss Dior completely after slyly approaching as Miss Dior Chérie. L’Interdit went through a fruity phase before the Les Mythiques version came out, and that one seems to be discontinued. Je Reviens is a bottom-shelf Walmart refugee these days, if you can find it at all.
Even Shalimar has been monkeyed with through Shalimar Parfum Initial and Ode à la Vanille and a bunch of Shalimar “lites” in attempts to make it more likeable for the inexperienced perfume wearer. These are simply the fragrances I think of off the top of my head. There are dozens more.
Perfume illiteracy does have one advantage in that it’s easier to wear classic fragrances and not fear you’re a cliché. For years I would only wear Shalimar at home, because it is so Shalimar that I didn’t want people to sniff it and tune me out. Now I’m starting to think I’ll smell daringly original.
But, how “classic” are the perfume classics if they’re losing their audience? Will these gorgeous, challenging old perfumes go the way of, say, Mozart’s Magic Flute, something the everyman enjoyed when it came out, but now appreciated best by someone with patience, experience, and the money for a ticket price that could buy a week of groceries?
Perfume isn’t always easy. With all the fruity, patchouli-laden, clean musk-streaked fragrances out there, what incentive do consumers have to reach for the admittedly freaky but oh-so-beautiful Guerlain L’Heure Bleue (let’s not get started on L’Heure de Nuit), let alone Guerlain Jicky? Still, it’s immensely rewarding to develop your nose and learn what you truly love to smell, even as you’re challenged along the way.
We can argue about whether or not Phyllis Diller really was a classic, but you should know she wore Guerlain Chamade. Plus, she understood the value of perfume. As she said, “I’m looking for a perfume to overpower men. I’m sick of karate.”
Great thought provoking idea!
I’m young and tons of perfume are older than I am. Being in this hobby for several years already I’m slowly making my way through the classics, the perfume that were a statement of an era.
Some of them might be never available for my nose but some will be definitely smelled and remembered. Some of them I liked.
Chanel Pour Monsieur, L’Heure Bleue, Jicky, Mouchoir de Monsieur, Sous le Vent, these are few of those that I appreciate.
For me, that brings up another question: What, exactly, makes a classic? Because if lots of contemporary perfume lovers can’t appreciate it, is it really classic?
Yes, yes, yes, yes it is still a classic. Just because the legions of Marilyn Manson lovers probably don’t appreciate Mozart doesn’t mean it isn’t still classical music. Too funny to see Phillis Diller and LOVE her quote. One of the great comedic broads to my mind along with Joan Rivers, love them both to bits. I have a fleece zebra print bathrobe my husband loathes and calls it my Phyllis Diller robe. When I bought it, I pictured myself as an alluring vixen with a rose between my teeth, the reality however . . . . well, least said, soonest mended . . . yikes! I’m totally in the classics camp and a hoarder because I live in fear of reformulation. There has been almost nothing new that interests me at all. Coco Noir? blech. No. 19 Poudre Zzzzzzzz. etc. And yes, like dear Phyllis, if a perfume isn’t overpowering (or at least have the potential) I’m unlikely to be much interested. I even bought TWO bottles of Brent Leonesio’s No. 8 to really amp up the barnyard that seems to be missing from much that is new. I’m not always popular with people but horses and dogs adore me!
It sounds like Diller’s spirit lives in you! Hurray!
Two bottles of No. 8 – you deserve some kind of perfumista award for this, Holly C!
How many contemporary readers would enjoy reading Old Mortality or moviegoers enjoy watching A Story of Floating Weed? I don’t think current popularity defines a classic. Now what does define a classic? There is some dicier territory, if you ask me. Canon-building is rife with potential disaster.
I think I’d watch A Story of Floating Weed just for the title. Seriously, though, is that a classic movie?
I would call all Ozu movies classic, but I love those 30s-60s Japanese family dramas. Ozu is regulatory listed as one of the ten greatest directors of all time and he has two movies in the most recent Sight & Sound poll, but even if you discount this particular movie, how many contemporary moviegoers know or would enjoy The Passion of Joan of Arc or The Man with Movie Camera or 8 1/2?
There’s a whole world of movies out there for me to see! That’s good news. I have seen and enjoyed the Passion of Joan of Art and 8-1/2. But except for the Seven Samurai, Japanese cinema is new to me. Thanks!
I LOVE Ozu too!! (He and bunuel are my favorite filmmakers) Floating weeds was the first of his that I saw that I picked for the name..One of my favorites is probably Late Spring though I love most of what I’ve seen)..
Well, that settles it. I *must* see some of his movies.
Angela, this is a great article. When I was a budding perfumisto (!), I often bought small bottles of the classics unsniffed, just so I’d have a reference. See it mentioned on a blog or in print one too many times? I’d seek it out. I often find myself smiling when I catch a whiff of one of the classics in the air: Fracas, No. 5, Joy, Shalimar, Opium, Mitsouko…I can identify them all. I often found it curious, though, that when I did sense their presence – and let’s be honest, they DO have an unmistakable presence – it was always on a woman ‘of a certain age’, which I think is a shame. It’s like everyone young wants to wear what their 20 closest friends are wearing (“Pink Sugar” or the latest body spray from Victoria’s Secret) and no one appreciates the classics anymore. *sigh*
Wouldn’t it be great if young women started pushing the bottles of Nicki Minaj out of the way and reaching for Joy? Or, if that’s not youthful enough, maybe Diorissimo? I know it can take a while to appreciate complex scent, but how about a woman in her thirties? Surely she should be able to manage a spritz of Narcisse Noir from time to time.
It would be wonderful indeed, Angela!!! Agreed!!
I’m doing my best to fly the young woman/thoughtful scents flag! But my really youthful time is running out… soon I don’t suppose smelling Femme or Madame Rochas or Norell on me will still be interesting, except inasmuch as the scents will always be fascinating. I’m thirty, btw 🙂
Norell or Madame Rochas might be difficult, depending on your style, but I bet a dab of Femme would really knock their socks off!
Yup–I bought several minis of oft-mentioned classics for the reference point. Don’t love them all, but I’d feel like a very ignorant perfumephile without being able to identify them and make comparisons with them.
Oh I DO, me me me…thanks for writing this A!! This is the kind of article and responses I learn from.
You’re welcome! I’m glad you enjoyed it.
The handful of times I’ve worn my vintage Shalimar EDC out of the house, no one has ever recognized it. Of course, it doesn’t smell much like the stuff they sell as Shalimar these days.
At my local perfume shop, the SA confessed that some relatives of Shalimar wearers buying Shalimar were happy about the reformulation. As for the Shalimar wearers, I’m not so sure….
Thanks, Angela! I’ve noticed a real lack of cultural literacy in the youth of today, too, and it’s disheartening. When I was in my early 20s, I certainly caught the George and Gracie references, the Fibber McGee and Molly references, even though I didn’t grow up with the radio shows. And because of you, I’ll be dabbing on some Vintage Shalimar from the blue crystal bottle I found at the Ballard (Seattle) Goodwill last year…for a buck. 😉
There’s a guy at work who doesn’t know who Ingrid Bergman is. I was so shocked, I ran through a list of Hollywood greats: Garbo, Dietrich, Kelly (Grace and Gene), etc., and only hit one he knew in Marilyn Monroe. Then again, he knows more about the NFL than I’ll ever know.
I’m jealous of your deal! That’s a great one!
Hi Angela! We’re pretty retro as far as TV goes for our little ones, so of course they know who the grand Miss Diller is from all the weekend afternoon Scooby-Doo episodes we enjoy. There are some absolute gems in the arts world who simply can’t be forgotten and I look at the kids’ media consumption like their diet. Well-rounded with an appreciation for the modern as well as the forgotten. We love fusion cuisine just as much as tuna casserole around here. 🙂 Oh, and I’ve *loved* Pink Martini ever since I heard them in the late ’90s/early 00’s. They’re perfect dinner party (or any time) music!
While I have to agree that some of the classics are underappreciated, I also feel conflicted as a perfumista regarding whether tracking down a vintage, often very pricy version of a classic is worth it or whether I should just try and appreciate the more available one. Case in point, I recently bought a decant of Caron Farnesiana pure parfum after waffling for months. Was the new version going to be good? Should I buy a more expensive per ml(therefore likely smaller) decant of an older version? What if I like the older (and much more difficult to find) version far more than the newer? Could I try to pretend the newer version is as good after I’d used all of the older or would I ever wear it enough due to its scarcity and my worry of running out?
In the end, I went with the current formulation and absolutely loved it. I have a beautiful fragrance to wear for spring, I don’t know whether it is inferior to its predecessor and it wasn’t an arm and a leg to aquire. The same goes for most of the classics in my collection– No. 5, Rochas Femme, Mitsouko, Shalimar, Joy (though I do have some vintage of that one), Narcisse Noir and others.
I’ve decided to try and appreciate most of the available versions of the classics if I can’t easily find older versions because with how often perfumes are changed, it’s like forever chasing one’s tail. Unless I really hate the reformulation like with Miss Dior Cherie, many of the classics still retain enough of their original character as to still be lovely and different enough from most modern mainstream offerings. If they diverge too dramatically, as in the re-release of D&G last year, I think of the new version as a flanker and count myself fortunate to still have some of the original. 🙂
I’d happily wear Bandit or L’Heure Bleu over Coco Noir, even if they aren’t the vintage versions, and I get to spread the word to friends who haven’t smelled perfumes like it when they go fragrance shopping at Ulta or Sephora.
Sorry about the tl;dr reply, but this subject has been on my mind a lot lately whenever I think about adding to my fragrance wardrobe. 🙂
Oh, but I’m not even talking about reformulated classics, I mean the flankers that are meant to replace the lost market share of the classics! You know, like Coco Noir.
I admire your curated media diet! One of my good friends is great about bringing home Julia Child’s French Cooking, the old Avengers series, and stuff like that from the library, and she raised two spectacular sons who quote liberally from Danny Kaye movies.
I see. Though it is difficult sometimes to know whether you’re rocking a good version of Shalimar or not depending on when you bought it etc. But at least it’s Shalimar, so there’s that. And there is hope for the future generations yet. My daughter used to beg me for a dab of Fracas when she was five, and I got a friend of mine into the original Coco so much so she asked if I’d make her a decant. I was so happy to spread the love that I did so and have to say I was relieved when she gave her favorite Victoria’s Secret perfume a break. Sillage bombs are a favorite of mine, but that one was like a jackhammer to my nose. lol
You are raising some well-rounded kids. Here’s to you!
I agree with you fully!
ha, great Diller quote. You had me click on Corn Palace…thought I was fairly culturally literate, but wasn’t aware of it…we learn something new every day!
I haven’t been to the Corn Palace–or Mount Rushmore–but I sure love stuff like that. And Phyllis Diller!
I haven’t woken up enough yet to be able to read this (oh, and I guess my glasses and being able to see would help…), but I wanted to say two things: 1.) I love Phyllis Diller!!!!! I actually have always suspected I will hit an age where I look exactly like her. 2.) Just wanted to say hi. 🙂 It’s been awhile!
Isn’t she great? The photo Robin chose for this post cracks me up, too.
And hi! It’s great to hear from you. I hope you’re doing well.
Hi Miss Kitty V! How ya doing?
I just love Phyllis’s laugh. It’s so contagious in all the best ways like she just heard or told the filthiest joke. 🙂 She was wonderful!
Don’t you wish you could have dinner with her? I do.
Hi Miss Kitty V! Hope all is well with you!
I blame it on the 80’s-90’s babies who grew up on juice boxes and Jolly Ranchers and Sour Patch Kids. Now those kids have kids and all you can smell is vanilla, green apple and pear. And if it has any floral at all it is usually freesia.
And patchouli is read as “sex pot” and stirred into all that fruit, vanilla, and faux flowers like “Martian rainforest orchid.” Ick. But to be fair, I just think olfactory literacy is melting away. People are afraid of fragrance–yet drown in it in laundry detergents, hotel lobbies, and car air fresheners.
“People are afraid of fragrance”. Not 15-24 year old boys who BATHE in Axe body sprays! LOL Good lord, try sitting near a group of them at a sports event, a breathing mask is needed.
I sure can’t argue with that! My life doesn’t take me into crowds of teen boys very often, though.
At my nephews hockey games I sometimes imagine myself as Jane Goodall studying wild apes!! They are downright hilarious to observe in their natural habitat; sporting events, video gaming in the living room, anywhere they forget you are around and let down their guard.
That’s terrific–and funny. I’d love to read your field reports.
Yes, honestly! Jane Iredale brought out her new lipglosses and I got my fave colours, but Good Lord! She scented them blackberry, my nemesis, urck! Why?!! In a makeup line that’s supposed to be good for you (relatively) they stuck that cheap scent molecule in something I wear under my nose. Yet heaven forbid we have a fragrance with too much real jasmine in it or oakmoss. Cheap, chemical schlock is everywhere, it’s just the good fragrance that’s endangered. The glosses are gorgeous and I caved because the scent doesn’t last long, but it shouldn’t be there at all. God I’m embarrassingly easy . . . 🙂
When I went to Art et Parfum last year (the memories!), I had to duck out for a few minutes to use the restroom, and what did they have in there as an air freshener? A cheap drugstore air freshener *and* a spray vial of oak moss!
Oakmoss??!!! How did you overcome the temptation to pinch it? . . . . . .. . . or DID you . . . . hmmmm:)
I left it behind, but I’ll always remember it!
I was born in the 80s, and I love stuff like 19 and Tabac Blond extrait. I have a deep and abiding love for JC Ellena’s signature style, and the very ozonic kind of perfumes of the late 90s (like Issey Miyake) and CK One were what I really grew up smelling and learning to like so things that are quite the opposite, like Aromatics Elixir took some getting used to and though I appreciate them, still seem dated to me. Not because they are not wonderful and complex, but because there has been a progression of what’s been popular, and even if something is glorious, it can still seem (and be) easily identifiable as something from 40 years ago, which is not always a selling point. I readily admit that I don’t get Mitsouko at all, but I also think that Coco Noir is as boring as all get out. I’m not sure what my point is… I guess that tastes change, and you can have beautiful new things that smell very contemporary and a gorgeous classic like Shalimar and love both!
I love your attitude! Just like we can love both Don Giovanni and a dance song by Robyn. Why not? But Robyn doing Mozart–I’m not quite as sure about that (although now I’m intrigued by the idea).
Not all of us! No apple near me, and I’m a child of 82!
I’m assuming that’s 1982? Good for you! Somewhere along the line you got a good fragrance grounding!
I don’t think it’s just because people are young that they don’t recognize these classic perfumes. After all, there are tons of adults and older people who don’t recognize them either. And while perfume is less of a presence these days than it as been in the past, I don’t think there ever was a time when everyone -or even the majority of people- could recognize all the classic scents. Many people who have other interests can probably recognize things that the majority of us might not- classic pieces of music, classic paintings, etc.
I’m seventeen, and I wear Fracas, as well as vintage Mitsouko and Shalimar.
I love your perfume choices! You have a sophisticated nose.
I do think, though, there was a time when people at least knew the names of the classic fragrances, if not their smell. But in those days, there weren’t scores upon scores of perfumes crowding the department store shelves. It wasn’t a given that every perfume house would release new fragrances seasonally. The playing field was a lot smaller in the fine fragrance area.
Good for you Connie. I hope you school all your friends on fine fragrance! You give me hope. . . . .
Yes!
Great point – and perfume choices!
True!
Totally OT, but this goes out to the Goddess Rena and any other Bostonians–hope you are OK, girl. Thoughts and prayers going out to all Bostonians, marathoners and their families, and anyone close to the terrible events from today.
Gosh, I turned on the radio after seeing your comment, and it’s terrible! It all sure puts perfume into perspective. My best thoughts and intentions go toward Boston, too.
Yes – so sad!
As a theatrical practitioner writing a thesis on adaptation, this is a post that hits right at the heart of what I read/write about. And it hits at the heart of my art! Many complex issues are at work here, but I have always loved perfume as an apt example of adaptation – and something that scholars of the discourse could learn from! Fidelity is such a thorny issue in adaptation – what’s an original? – but I wonder if these permutations/adaptations of classics speak more to our contemporary moment than they do of their origination? The moral language of degradation or infidelity certainly creeps in, which speaks to our hearts’ yearnings, but I consistently question my notions of “original” and “faithful” these days due to my studies. Adaptation has made me rethink art and its made me rethink perfume – the Turtle Vetiver exercises being wonderfully inspiring for me. But the Turtle Vetiver project announces itself as adaptive whereas the reformulations are sneaky. Perhaps if they’d dispense with the secrecy we’d approach our beloved Shalimars differently?
Fascinating! I guess it’s not so much adaptation that bothers me (although I do like knowing what the original is about), but the fact that an adaptation might drop a classic from classic status by making it less interesting or not as good. For instance, take the movie The Women. The remake with Meg Ryan stripped the daring and edge right out of the original. It became boring–even irritating. On the other hand, Eau Premiere is a classic in its own right, I think.
Yes, perhaps a bigger question invoked is: why adapt? Why make the change in the first place? Shakespeare plays are probably a good example…what of them exactly gets adapted? There’s the setting and the context, but the language often remains intact. The narrative structure and language remain intact while the setting is “updated”. I wonder how this would play into my mixing and matching….like when I add some super skanky musk oil to Shalimar to approximate what I “think” would be more akin to the original. But then, my own personal workbench is foregrounded and I take on the role of adapter beyond the companies or perfumers!
I can see why you’re doing so much research on adaptation! I’d never really thought about it until now, but I realize there’s lots of fertile ground to explore here.
On the flip side of this argument, I wonder how many of us newer perfumistas feel sort of inferior when we sniff a classic and just *don’t* get it! I love Shalimar, but I’ve tried several other classic Guerlain’s without any love! I keep hoping I’ll grow into them!
But do you at least respect them and understand why others might love them?
Some more than others. My notes on Jicky are not so complimentary, for example!
Jicky has that dead squirrel accord that makes it hard to love, especially in EdT! I get a little bit of that in Shalimar, but all that delicious vanilla and lemon balance it out.
Ha! Funny, I don’t remember seeing “dead squirrel” listed in the notes! 😀
I swear it’s there! And it’s OLD dead squirrel.
I guess I should be grateful it’s not old dead skunk!
My prayers go out to Boston today, I hope all our perfume friends and loved ones are accounted for and well. I think everyone who contributes to this blog underestimates their power to influence people unfamiliar with classic fragrance. My two grown daughters and my husband and the people I work with all got a perfume education because of my boundless enthusiasm. I challenge you all to share your wonderful knowledge with the people in your life. Word of mouth is a powerful thing.
Thanks for spreading the word!
Yeah, sometimes I feel like an ambassador for scent.
You’re inspiring!
Oh, and when I was perfume shopping in Vegas a few weeks ago, one of the lovely older SA’s in a boutique and I got to talking. She asked me what I like, and I mentioned that I prefer the more complex, often “dirtier” scents, like Shalimar. She was so surprised! She said that she loved Shalimar but considered it way out of fashion. I told her it was my “bombshell scent,” for when I really wanna feel sexy, and she seemed to like that a lot! She said she was tempted to start wearing it again! 😀
Interesting! I think a perfume like Shalimar’s singularity (and difficulty because it’s so itself) is part of what makes hard to love sometimes but easy to love forever. Just like a sexy woman!
I vaguely remembered Phyllis Diller from a series of interviews Dawn French did in a series, for I think the Beeb ,called Girls who do comedy. But then I am not American.
Your post reminded me of my own private observations after watching the two glorious tv-series based on Le Carré’s work, Tinker Tailor and Smiley’s People. It is absolutely top notch telly, but not very accessible (and fairly slow). Tinker Tailor especially is quite difficult to understand. So difficult in fact, that at the time it was broadcast, there was a radio quiz as well, where people could test “their” understanding of the part they had just finished watching.
With perfume I suppose it is even more difficult to protect the perfumed heritage, as the product by it’s very nature is fleeting. That being said, a not very perfume discerning friend of mine, ( used to wear Chanel Allure, and has now moved on to DKNY Pure), has twice complimented me on how nice I smelled. One of the fragrances was L’Heure Bleue, and for the life of me I cannot remember what the other one was; I am guessing Ormonde Woman. We just have to go on wearing these classics, to spread the word as it were.
Sometimes I think that if the classics were easier to “get” all at once, they’d lose their allure equally fast. It sounds like you’re doing a great job spreading perfume literacy just by wearing the perfume you do!
Don’t get me started, Angela! I think so much changed when we started worshipping youth. Even throughout the 80’s perfume was big and had a point of view. I doesn’t seem that long ago that restaurants and airplanes were a fog of cigarette smoke and Georgio or Bijan. Now I wouldn’t consider either a classic, but it never would have occurred to me to weigh in on what I thought about the wearer’s choice. Now, after you were told you smelled like an old lady your scent victim would remind you they can’t eat gluten, and roll themselves away on a gurney.!
Perfume is an accessory. Not one that matches your handbag (yes, I said handbag!), or shoes, but one that is an extension of your aura or soul. Buyer beware, or be damned!
It would behoove people to have the curiosity to know what defines quality and history.
Phyllis Filler was a true classic. I have friends who knew her and loved her. She opened doors, she set the bar, and she did it with grace. I am astonished that there are so many people who almost brag when they admit to not knowing someone or something. To quote my friend Charles, “Don’t brag about what you don’t know!”. Rant over!
I’m so jealous you know people who knew Diller!
I think I’ve always cruised the past for pleasure. Heck, I have a DVD of Carole Lombard movies by the TV right now and a 1955 pulp detective novel next to my bed. (And I’m shamefully ignorant about current popular culture, although I’m trying to get better.) But what saddens me is seeing the ability to appreciate something a little bit difficult go away, because I think it’s that hint of jarring difficulty that makes something classic.
A friend of mine is who is at least 15 years my junior, was given a surprise party by her mother. My friend loves Carole Lombard. Her mother took her to dinner, then drove her to a B&B for an overnight. It was CL’s childhood home in Fort Wayne. The slept in Carole’s room and her mom even brought a six pack of beer!
Let’s also credit fabulous parents who encourage and permit our passions and imaginations!
I love that! Now there’s a mom who deserves a fat bouquet of roses every Mother’s Day.
I think that’s so well said — difficulty not only creates beauty, but also makes something more enjoyable. Working at a puzzle is REWARDING.
And it doesn’t get old quickly. When there’s something just a little bit off about art, it seems to keep its fascination longer.
Oooooh, a fellow ranter! Not only did you say “handbag” but you also said “behoove”. I’m in HEAVEN! True character lives on! And yes, those scent phobes that practically come with their own gurney, do so at their peril around me, it might get a solid push into our harbor!
Thanks, HollyC!
I envy you your harbor. Not for the soft landing, but for the loud splash!
Angela, I once had a 20-something ask me “Who’s Johnny Carson?” I was stunned! I mean, I grew up seeing Johnny Carson on TV, and it really did seem like the end of an era when he retired from the Tonight Show, and here was this kid who never even heard of him. So what if he was “before her time”? I know at least a little about lots of people and things that were before my time. Jack Paar’s stint was before my time, and I don’t think I have ever seen an episode that he hosted, but I certainly have heard of him.
I’d have been floored, too! I’m familiar with tons of stuff way before my time. Phyllis Diller, for instance–I don’t know if I ever saw her on TV, well, maybe when I was a kid she was on the Merv Griffin show–but I sure as heck know who she is.
Merv Griffin and Mike Douglas. My master class in deciphering the world in the 60s and 70s.
Don’t worry, I remember both of them.
Last week I saw a preview of a play in which Bette Midler was playing a 1970’s talent agent. Rather suprisingly, I knew who the agent was. However, as the play went on, it occurred to me that there was a hell of a lot of stuff someone would have to know to follow it. Forget about knowing Ali McGraw (Gorgeous actress whose career highlight was a movie called Love Story, which was “The Notebook” of its time). The play required you to know that she married Steve McQueen (Macho actor with a hobby of auto racing, whose career highlight was the modern film noir Bullet – a film still considered to have the best car chase of all time and who died relatively young of mesothelioma) AND know that McGraw’s career faded after marraige. (Bonus point, you really should also know that she divorced a major hollywood producer to marry McQueen and then the ex went out of his way to ruin her career).
Got all that? Now, that was background to five minutes of the show. Shall we go on to the really funny Cissy Spacek joke (It requires you to know (1)she won an Oscar for Coal Miner’s Daughter, (2) which was about Lorretta Lynn (3) who is a county music star and (4) Spacek lip synched to Lynn’s distinctive voice in the movie).
Oddly enough, most of Bette’s audience seemed to get the references,/ I remember feeling very glad that the teenagers ahead of me in line to get cheap tickets had been turned away and went in search for another show.
The story about Sue Menger, right? I’d love to see that! I got all those references and would eat it up, I’m sure.
I’m sitting here in a cloud of Mitsouko (circa 1988) and loving it! Interestingly, I’ve always worn what I like. I wore No.19 in high school (late 88-92) when it was very much out of fashion. Back then, everything was heavily vanilla or remnants of the 80s style and shrill.
When I wear my ‘classics’ out and about, it inevitably strikes up a conversation and most often elicits a compliment! I feel like a perfume ambassador too, standing up or the good stuff. I wonder if many people just don’t know what they’re missing.
That’s so nice! People must notice that you smell different from the crowd and like it. So encouraging!
Phyllis Diller was awesome… as is that photo 😀
I do think that it often takes time and experience to learn to appreciate fine, complex perfumes. Here’s an analogy: I have a passion for Japanese incense, especially the aloeswood-based ones. When I began exploring these incenses, it was the cheap ones that appealed to me most, while the more expensive varieties left me mystified. What in the world was their appeal? But I persisted, and now I have a keen appreciation for the subtler (and, sadly, pricier) ones. I’m kind of hoping I don’t develop an exclusive taste for the ultra-expensive ones, for obvious reasons…
Japanese incense! That’s so interesting. Now I want to learn all about it. Between the Japanese movies mentioned above and incense, I see a theme emerging.
Now imagine that it was common practice to burn fine incense. You would have grown up with a nose and respect for it, rather than (it sounds like) discovering it later.
Didn’t comment yesterday because this is so incredibly off topic, but I do have to kind of take exception to the statement about opera ticket prices. Many places still do have matinee tickets that are…er, more affordable. Larger companies like the Met also get opera broadcasts on PBS stations, and many movie theatres across the country do Met showings or simulcasts for the price of a movie ticket. Anyone who claims that opera is inaccessible because of cost is about as ignorant of the fine arts options as most people are of what actually constitues a chypre or fougere. If the interest is there, there are plenty of ways to see/experience/learn about opera, the symphony, ballet…all the things that many people considered “rarified” and somehow not for the masses. A lot like good perfume, I’m afraid.
I’m so glad to hear that! Just looking at tickets for an opera coming up where I live, it looks like I could get tickets for $32 a seat at the lowest end on an off night, although they’d definitely benefit from opera glasses.
Wouldn’t it be great if we could go to a neighborhood bar, and instead of a DJ, hear a string quartet? I’d love to have it be more informal, less reverential.
If I could get the funding and the liquor license, you could! ;p
You’d have to move to Iowa, though.
It would be even cooler in Iowa!
Blergh. RE-read my original post, and I come off a bit harsh and snotty. But I hear this argument all the time given as a reason to just not educate/expose kids to the fine arts at all. I’m sorry about my tone. I had a pretty good day yesterday, even after the bombing (no one I knew was involved and the runners I know who do marathons both happened to be skipping Boston for New York this year) and I actually was complimented numerous times (on the street! at my size!) by strangers…and then I got home and everything fell to absolute crap, which continued this morning. Again, I am very sorry about the tone I took with you.
Oh, please don’t apologize! I hope your day has been better.
Well, I’ll be switching banks on the first (most of the crap the day fell to was depressingly financial,) so we’ll see.
There’s nothing worse than dealing with a recalcitrant bank–unless it’s a health insurance company, maybe. Well, once we start our bar, we’ll be rolling in money, and we can tell those losers down at the bank that we’ve taken our business elsewhere.
Oh crap. Just remembered my health insurance is auto draft, so…yes, I’ll have to deal with them too.
(Fortunately I work for them, so I know just which heads to grasp and bang together.)
Yeah, I’ve had season tickets to the LA Opera in the past, in the balcony, and it just wasn’t that expensive at all.
That’s fabulous!
Your post raises so many interesting points.
1. Young people always must either be taught their culture (anything over about five years old will be history to them, and it is always a shock to anyone even slightly older what constitutes hisory to them. (Miss Isreal, for instance, wrote her high school history on the first election of Barak Obama as President of the United States)
2. The notion of perfume of having a classical history is itself a fascinating concept. Only about six years ago, these were almost universally regarded as simply commercial products, and the notion of preserving a “classic” still would make about as much sense to people as preserving a classic junk food that was no longer popular. (Oh, wait, people did freak out when Ring Dings were about to be taken off the market).
3. But my main question is What the Heck is a “Corn Palace?”
Great points! Each of them deserves its own post–at least, numbers 1 and 2 do. The Corn Palace is a gigantic, Moorish-revival hall in South Dakota decorated on the outside with corn. I’ve never seen it in the flesh, but it sounds stupendously cheesy and magnificent.
I love those old postcards of the Corn Palace. I believe they re-did the outside of it quite often. I would still like to see it, but after a half hour of orgasmic corn-awe, then what?
Then, I guess, you’ve just got to hope there’s a good place in town for dinner or a movie….
Your post inspired me to dab some Shalimar on yesterday! No scent seemed right the past couple of days, but the minute I dabbed on Shalimar it felt right. So I guess it is going to be my SOTD the next few days..:)..
I had to drag it out, too, after writing the post!
I feel like I know how to appreciate a classic and that I have pretty respectable taste in perfume. Shalimar is a favorite and I love Chanel 19. I loathe celebrity fruity florals but I must admit that sometimes I really enjoy a vanilla patchouli like Shalimar Parfum Initial. Here’s my point though, some of the classics just strike me as like the aspic section of Julia Child’s, Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I have respect for the aspics but I am also horrified. Maybe all of classic French perfumes could be compared to those classic French recipes, some stand the test of time but not all.
Recently an older woman that I adore invited me out to lunch and knowing that I am interested in perfume she gave me several bottles that she purchased in Paris in the 1970’s. She gave me: Shocking de Schiaparelli, Givenchy III, Azzaro 9, Zadig by Pucci, Oscar de la Renta, L’Air du Temps, Ellipse by Jaques Fath, and Chloe. All are parfum and all were still sealed in fantastic packaging, the Schiaparelli’s cap is also a removable broatch. That said, I was prepared for greatness but alas it all smelled to me like cheapish men’s cologne. Maybe it’s just too old but it left me feeling as about excited as a plate of pied de veau in aspic.
You’re killing me! Shocking, Givenchy III, and Zadig are all chypres–maybe that oakmoss turns you off? (Zadig is especially chypre-ish to me.) But they’re all such gorgeous perfumes! (Excuse me while I fan myself a moment. Whew.)
Aspic can be beautiful with its artfully arranged herbs and shreds of vegetables, but I admit there’s something slightly creepy about it, too.
Thank you Angela for confirming that these are good perfumes, I had never heard of some of them. I want to appreciate oak moss. Any advice on how to do that? For what it’s worth, the Zadig is my favorite.
Well, you’re a lucky woman, that’s all I can say. My heart still beats faster when I read that list of perfumes.
Oakmoss is kind of tricky. On one hand, it’s not a loud smell, and it mostly seems to be used to modify other scents. On the other, it’s musty and a little freaky. I think it’s like anything challenging but beautiful, you just keep trying it until it clicks–or not. I find my own appreciation of perfume keeps changing over the years.
I’m a perfumista in my early 20s and have been seriously interested in perfume for over 5 years. Also, I work at a niche perfume boutique too. I have smelled quite a bit of the classics, thanks to my older perfumista friends. I keep at least a sample of each of the Guerlain ones and I might not wear it everyday, but I often dab a drop on my wrist and just sit back and enjoy them.
I have to admit to owning the Eau Premiere and Parfum Initial for everyday use, but I consider them a new, individual perfume, not a classic.
Also, it’s quite amusing when I ask a client what perfume they like and they name something from a few decades ago and simply vawes a hand at me – oh, you won’t remember that one. They seem quite shocked when I tell them that I do know their beloved Fidji, I have smelled it and appreciate it a lot. Some of them simply don’t believe me.
Anyway, there are quite a few young perfumistas, so I hope that the good old classics won’t be totally forgotten.
That’s terrific! You’re in an ideal spot to appreciate perfume and to meet people who love it, too. And to spread the word! People who know Fidji are getting fewer and fewer out there.
While I agree with your sentiments, I also must say that really opera especially at the days when the Magic Flute came out was an indulgence for the absolutely overprivileged… Common folk mostly had to make do with a puppet theatre 🙂
So there is a point there for a democratisation of the culture?