Weekends, I work at a shop that brings in a diverse clientele, from students and artists to society matrons and tourists. A few weeks ago, late in the afternoon when the store was quiet, a woman came in looking for Chinese lanterns. She was tall and lumpy and didn’t wear makeup. She wore a strange hat that curved around her face, a satin baseball jacket embroidered with flowers, and striped pants that had seen better days. She carried a Prada handbag worth more than my car.1
Was the woman conventionally pretty? No. But she was riveting. Besides owning her own style, she was kind and authentic. (I later discovered she’s a famous photographer. You’ve probably seen her work on album covers.2)
Why am I telling this story? Because it made me realize how banal beauty can be. Look at the covers of celebrity magazines. The actresses look almost exactly the same. Thanks to dieting, plastic surgery, stylists, and personal trainers, Hollywood is an assembly line of interchangeable starlets. Worse, a lot of women on the street spend a lot of money to to achieve this kind of banality.
I was reminded of that afternoon when I stopped by Nordstrom to hunt down a particular nail polish. I was wearing an old plaid jacket originally from an Oklahoman western wear store in the 1960s (I bought it at Goodwill). My hair was extra frizzy from the rain, and I wore no makeup except for a haphazard application of lipstick. All around me were women with clever dye jobs and plaster-smooth skin and eye makeup crafted from multiple hues. I was kind of concerned the security guard would put a tail on me.
Yes, the sales associates and most of customers were lovely. But were they beautiful? To me, simply passing them in the aisles without knowing their personalities, they were boring.
And now I come to Trish McEvoy 100, a sample of which was pressed into my hand by the never-banal perfume guy, Brice Terrible. Perfumer Honorine Blanc developed 100, and its notes include lychee, blackberry leaves, “luminous” incense, jasmine, rose centifolia, cypriol, tonka bean, creamy leather, cedarwood, helvetolide (musk) and ambrox.
The McEvoy website says, “Inspired by the empowering numerology of 100, the newest fragrance by Trish McEvoy stands for having the self-confidence to trust your instincts and follow your dreams — a belief from the heart of Trish McEvoy.” This is promising. It suggests 100 will stand apart from its risk-averse siblings on the department store shelves. Maybe it will aim for a different type of beauty.
Initially, 100 smells of watered-down tangerine juice and bergamot on a base of vague florals that I bet one of the big perfume companies sells as Generic Floral Melange®. A hint of orange blossom reminds us that 100 will stay clean and safe. So far, I’m not bowled over.
Then, a soft suede creeps into the composition. At first, it’s nearly sheer. It casts a veil over the citrus-floral mix, with the tingle of bergamot balancing its velvet. After fifteen minutes or so, the suede starts to thicken and sweeten, and the fragrance’s soprano register intensifies, too, for a quiet tension. Here’s where I like 100 best.
The suede stays creamy, and, overall, 100 remains light and ladylike, with no hard angles or challenging heft, despite the incense, cypriol and cedar listed in its notes. 100 could go to church or to the therapist’s office when another department store leather, Bottega Veneta, for instance, might be too assertive. 100 lasts a good five hours on my skin and wafts a respectful sillage.
So, 100 is nice — lovely, even. But, to come back to our central question, is it beautiful? Not to me. For the money, I’d snatch up one of the remaining Serge Lutens Daim Blond export bottles out there and enjoy my suede with a hit of quirk.
For those of you who have braved this long post all the way to the end, how do you define beauty?
Trish McEvoy 100 Eau de Parfum is $210 for 100 ml and is available in higher-end department stores.
1. Not that this is such a feat. A shopping cart full of bottles with deposits might be worth more than my pickup.
2. Sorry for being coy. Since I can’t ask her first, I’d rather not name her here.
Oh, I loved this post! And, I wish I had something clever to say about beauty…alas.
I don’t have much natural pigment, which bothers me, so I usually like to wear eye make up. On one occasion I didn’t and someone said I looked great and ethereal. So I like to hold on to that complement when I am feeling gross, I just try to channel that “ethereal” sort of Tilda Swinton confidence.
Also, when I am feeling extra unkempt sometimes people mistake me for someone with a lot of money – I just get into trouble when I am slightly unkempt.
OK, so was that Annie Leibovitz?? Dying to know.
I’m so glad you liked the post! No, it wasn’t Leibovitz (but wouldn’t that have been fabulous! And she kind of does fit the description, doesn’t she?)
I love Tilda Swinton’s pale eyes. I bet her pillowcases stay clean longer, too, without all that mascara to scrub off.
I would’ve guessed it was Leibovitz as well.
Funny about the interchangeable stars; for many years, I thought Isla Fisher and Amy Adams were the same person. Pretty in a bland sort of way but forgettable (don’t send their agents or publicists after me!)
To me, beauty isn’t always obvious. It has flaws and imperfections, which make it interesting to look at. To these eyes, Anjelica Huston is beautiful, because she’s not conventional or cookie cutter. You see her and you’re not likely to mistake her for anyone else.
Same goes for fragrances. I don’t always want pretty. Sometimes odd or angular or off-kilter is just the ticket.
Anjelica Huston is gorgeous! (I read somewhere that her signature fragrance is Patou 1000, by the way, and then I saw a photo of her dressing table and spotted a few bell jars.) You and I have a similar view of real beauty.
I was thinking about beauty just last week and decided that for me beauty is something/anything that provokes a sense of wonder. Doesn’t sound like your perfume fits that bill!
Oh, a sense of wonder! That’s interesting and makes me think. I guess real beauty does stop you for a second and engage you, and that might qualify as a “sense of wonder.”
What a great post, Angela. I am amazed by the innumerable ways in which people and things can be beautiful and wish that our larger culture, in the US at least, did more to celebrate that diversity. Thanks for doing just that here.
I’m glad you enjoyed it! The older and more confident I get, the more beauty I see around me–and the more apt I am to be truer to myself and let my own beauty out.
Kind of reminds me of Gloria Swanson’s “we had FACES!” Yes, they had beautiful faces then, but they were also interesting faces. It think that’s what makes someone memorable to me.
100 sounds nice, but that’s not what I’m looking for in a perfume. But I hope it works for someone else!
I sure love a comment that quotes Gloria Swanson!
I can see 100 as a gateway fragrance for someone with ready spending cash and a new but growing interest in perfume. A suede note is so nice.
In 1985 Lauder staked a lot on the concept of ‘beautiful’ by bringing out a perfume of that name. I’m wearing a two teeny spritzes today. Beautiful is complex floral number which invites its wearer to feel sexy and maternal at the same time. No wonder Beautiful was marketed as a wedding scent. That was beauty in a fragrance in 1985.
Now we hear a lot about fragrances for women who want to affirm that life is beautiful, that they can live their dreams, be whoever they want to be, find their own paths to fulfillment etc. Trish McEvoy 100 must be one of dozens like this. (Even Chanel has an offering, Gabrielle, which I do actually rather like). The irony is, as you have said, that all these fragrances seem the same. They are not identical in notes and accords , but in pleasing everyone they offend no-one and are therefore devoid of character.
Lauder’s Beautiful is still popular but I suppose younger Lauderettes go for Muse.
Beautiful is a showstopper of a perfume! Big and bold and chypre-amber. The ad campaign was traditional, but the fragrance was bold. Nowadays–for mainstream releases, at least–it seems the ad campaign touts the maverick woman, but the fragrance is conventional.
A reversal then. Makes you wonder how far we have come. And I’m also thinking of Youth Dew – a drop dead sexy perfume in innocent bathroom-blue packaging.
A good example!
The can go to Church or a therapist office line is awesome! I could spend hours talking about this subject, but I won’t. I love and wear make-up most days, and my 14 year old is quite the little make-up artist. I tell her though, the same thing my mother told me. It doesn’t matter how pretty you are if you act ugly. Beauty really does come from within. Great review. Thanks Angela!
And it does! We’ve all heard a million times that beauty comes from within, but it’s so easy to tell yourself, “Sure, but if my skin were more radiant….” Take care of your skin, yes, and makeup is fun, definitely. It’s the kind, warm, receptive person who has the real glow, though.
and here we have it …in perfume format…
https://www.fragrantica.com/perfume/Sarah-Horowitz-Parfums/What-Comes-From-Within-Beauty-5684.html
Have you tried this one? I haven’t, but it’s got quite a name to live up to!
I hadn’t even heard of it.
The reviews are pretty lukewarm–nice concept, though!
I love this post, Angela! My favorite perfumes have personality, remember when personality was important? Everything now is about the first, surface impression, in people and often perfume.
I feel like I want to wear that on a T shirt: “Remember when personality was important?”
We’ll have to start our own etsy shop!
I want to chime in with my appreciation for this post as well. As I grow older (and, it seems, more invisible in this society), I realize how geared we are toward youth and conventional beauty. Yet when I think of my good friends, none of them are the women with plaster smooth skin that you saw while searching for nail polish at Nordstrom. Not that that is a bad thing, either! But as ringthing says, what about the personality beneath? I love a quick smile, warm heart and great sense of humor and an interesting style is a bonus. My perfumes are quite varied, but I find them all interesting, even if not “pretty.”
I hear you! “Quick smile, warm heart and great sense of humor” are wonderful. So is the confidence to be yourself.
I think that ELd’O had the right idea to make Rossy de Palma one of their ‘celebrities’ (and the inspiration for Eau de Protection). That De Palma look in a heavy herringbone jacket, shirt and tie, with leather gloves…I’m not talking jolie-laide, that’s straight-up ‘jolie’. I suppose actual beauty never tries to please, and yet it does.
Another fabulous quote! “I suppose actual beauty never tries to please, and yet it does.” I love it.