I had a nice surprise on Thursday night, after a miserable ice cold grey day back at work when I had been feeling significantly under par : a package from my brother had arrived from London.
Contained within was a luxurious perfume tome on perfume bottle design by Marc Rosen, creator, among many other ingenious inventions, of the classic fan-shaped flacon for Lagerfeld’s eponymous cloved-orange, spice floral amber KL from 1983 – one of the most prized bouteilles in my collection.
In direct lineage with its 70’s older spiced feather boa counterparts like Opium, Guy Laroche J’ai Ose, and Dioressence (but especially Opium), KL was part of an 80’s New Wave of perfumes that extended that theme for a while – Coco, Ungaro Diva, Krizia Teatro Alla Scala and L’Arte di Gucci – all fabulously ‘event’ perfumes meant for the full garb and face – manicured up to the max and coiffed til the cows come home – until their fashion obsolence became quickly apparent with the arrival of the first Kenzos, Romeo Giglis, the Calvin Kleins and Prescriptives Calyx.
Still, KL has always had its unique evolutionary facets. Less clawed and take-no-prisoners than Opium, a beautifully lilting orange top note fused with rose, ylang, Jamaica pepper, and an emotively gentle vanilla and benzoin balsam base, I first encountered this spicy natural ice breaker on a friend of mine at university – Jo – who wore the perfume with an air of confident introversion and flair. It is fascinating to be able to literally return to the drawing board to hear about the inspirations and technical exigencies of capturing the precise demands of the daunting Mr Lagerfeld; the marriage between a perfumed liquid and the flacon that houses it such a vital part of this medium’s hypnotic pleasures, and durable evanescence.
I wrote that book with Marc Rosen. It was the moment when I discovered perfume blogs, including yours.
Ha!
Wow -I hadn’t made the connection.
Congratulations. It is a GORGEOUS book. Can’t wait to plunge into it further- gleaming with luxe
Lovely, your photo offering a quick peek into your collection: mmh, Arpège (how lovely after it‘s settled down); ah, Bellodgia (I have the same stodgy flacon with the same „hand-made“ label); aha, Fidji! (my mother had it but hardly ever wore it); and oh my, which Guerlain is hiding behind that Nahema box?
Incidentally, I have an enormous tear shaped bottle (1/4 liter?) of a Guerlain Verbena (eau de verveine??). Must search for it. I bought it in my greedy-must-have-each-and-every-bloody-bottle phase, and really ought to sell it on ebay!
The envy ! Only Guerlain can inspire this lust. What is Verveine like ?
I have Vol De Nuit, Shalimar and L’Heure Bleue lurking there. Just writing the names is a pleasure
I just pulled out my Guerlain treasure, and no, it isn’t a tear shaped bottle as previously thought, rather it’s a 1999 square bottle called “Eau de Vereine” (200 ml). I have no idea what it smells like as it is still sealed. Not being the greatest fan of verbena, I will leave it as such and hopefully sell it for a fabulously eccentric price via eBay…
(The tear shaped bottle (250 ml) I had in mind is a 1990 Mitsouko. Ebay is flooded with vintage Mitsoukos—so, nothing to be fetched there.)
I know – Mitsouko (yawn) – Japan is drowning in it. I got another vintage edt the other day because I had never seen that particular box before ( and I DO like it, but )
KL epitomized the early eighties for me at the time. It was pre-shoulder-pad glamour, very much an evening, club scent. It’s so solidly in the Oriental camp that it was a new touchstone for the genre, there with Opium but for me, then, a million miles more wearable and blessedly less ubiquitous. And what a bottle. Oh, dear N., the memories are flooding back, the pounding music of the time, the inhibition and sensuality. Thank you!
Thank you for knowing what I am talking about and sharing the passion!
Very envious of your KL bottle! I had never even heard of this perfume until about 10 years ago another woman named Nina gave me three bottles of the original EdT with the ugly grey plastic top because when she went through her mother’s things after she died, there was a whole stash of perfume hidden away in her closet, including the three bottles of KL, and the other Nina knew I loved vintage perfume. Despite the ugly bottle, I immediately loved the perfume and wore it regularly for a while, though now I don’t love it as much as I did back then who knows why.
I think those Opium type perfumes just get very wearing after a while. Who wants all that fuzz hanging over you after a certain point? Good for a night out, glammed up, but not on a daily basis.