
Notes: English Lavender, Sicilian citrus, rosemary, verbena, Bulgarian rose, jasmine
vetiver, Mysore sandalwood, ylang ylang, cedar, amber, white musk
“Tradition” rarely represents the seamless historical continuity that invests ideas, objects, or practices with authority or cultural cachet. How many times have you stood in a supposedly medieval church that was really bombed to rubble in WWII and then rebuilt as a “medieval church” ? The famed Nuremberg Christkindl market is a Nazi invention in its current form (they also gothicized many Romanesque or Renaissance buildings because gothic was considered to be “Aryan.”) I do not know how many tourists take the Houses of Parliament to be medieval buildings rather than neo-gothic reconstructions actually of more recent date than the White House.
What am I driving at here? The fact, of course, that many fragrance houses use their supposedly venerable age and an unbroken tradition reaching back to some quasi-mythical founder as a means of increasing their prestige, turning cultural capital into brand power, higher prices and a marketable story. 4711 and Carthusia give us romantic fairytales about monks. Creed is the most blatant example, perhaps, of a constant insistence on traditionality, coupled with virtually absolute silence on any significant details of the house’s actual history. Who ever learns, that the Creed’s were couturiers first and only incidentally perfumers (these crafts being closely related, of course, since perfume served to scent accessoires, not skin, until the end of the 19th century). Acqua di Parma is another case of history looming large, though they have not chosen the seamless tradition spiel for their narrative, but the “phoenix risen from the ashes” model. A prestigious cologne, though hardly old, the (supposedly, hopefully) all-natural AdP was created in 1916, when synthetics-based perfumery was already in full flush and the market had shifted from its restricted aristocratic and haute-bourgeoisie clientel towards mass production for an increasingly broadening white collar consumer class. It is just about the time that 4711 (as which it was reinvented 1881 after Farina Gegenüber achieved prohibition, having lobbied for the introduction of the trademark system, of the use of its name by plagiarizers such as the Mühlens family), an industrially produced cheap cologne became a household name that would obliterate the original artisanal product (Farina Gegenüber) in the public consciousness. AdP was a late but successful newcomer, and like Creed, it played on its popularity among the new aristocracy during its halcyon days in the 1930s-1950s: Hollywood stars. Then, as tastes changed, it was out, living a twilight existence, only to be rejuvenated in the course of the new craving for old style luxury that began in the yuppie 80s and became full-blown during the New Economy, whose progenitors, like the robber barons of the 1880s craved the emblems of old money once they retired to their patrician estates. The Italian rejuvenators, old hands in the luxury business, refashioned AdP into a prestigious “must have” in the right circles, expanded the line massively (they have very mediocre fragrances now, too) and sold out for what was probably a 10000% percent profit. Good for them, though it pains me to see, that a fine product such as AdP is now another “preciousss” in the slimy grasping hands of Bernard Gollum Arnault of LVMH, the Woolworth’s of the rich and famous. LVMH squares the circle by mass marketing exclusivity, by making the rare universally available, by marketing tinsel (such as Vuitton luggage) as “haut gamme” to anyone who is willing to fork out surplus cash for a label that signifies old world prestige (for readers of Germany, here are Luca Turin’s thought on this: http://snipurl.com/1ci7o.) A sure sign of the success of LVMH marketing machine is the wild popularity of AdP products on ebay, where it is always the subject of bidding wars, while at the same time so ubiquitously present that I must wonder how many of these bottles are Eastern European fakes. Either that, or many people who buy this as a form of prepackaged good taste find out they don’t really like it (perhaps because they actually lack good taste). So the question is, I suppose, can you enjoy a great cologne knowing that thousands who wear it do so, not because they appreciate it, but because it is a life-style ‘choice’ dictated by fashion rags like GQ? Well, I do. AdP Colonia is a nice departure from classic French (and the one German) colognes that emphasize hesperides and herbs, only rounded off with a touch of rose, musk or tonka. Here, the rose is far stronger, really defining the fragrance (with some help from the subtle but persistent ylang ylang) after the initial, incredibly refreshing lemon- blast, itself cleverly prolonged by the use of verbena. The woody base is more fortified as well, giving this excellent longevity, especially for a cologne. This hovers close to your skin all day, providing the finishing touch of sophistication that makes you feel so genteel. Acqua di Parma is a marvellous, refined, unique product, not because, but inspite of the hype created around it by its execrable owners. It bears its fate with the poise and imperturbability of a true gentleman.