SPOTLIGHT: MICHAEL EDWARDS, DEBUTS AMERICAN LEGENDS
Michael Edwards is an historian and taxonomist, a veritable walking encyclopedia of fragrance knowledge, and a good-company raconteur who always has an illuminating story to tell. His Fragrances of the World database—the largest guide to perfume classification that has ever existed—has been going nonstop since 1984, and his first book, Perfume Legends: French Feminine Fragrances, has been a must-have for fragrance lovers since its publication in 1996. Now, his much-anticipated second compendium, American Legends, has arrived. It is a landmark moment, not only for Edwards himself, who has been researching the book for more than 20 years (many of the interviews were done when he was working on Perfume Legends), but also for the American fragrance industry, which is celebrated for its unique trajectory and global influence. Beginning with 18th-century Caswell-Massey and running through to the runaway success of Santal 33, American Legends chronicles fragrances from Old Spice to White Linen, Youth-Dew to Cashmere Mist, Jungle Gardenia to Giorgio Beverly Hills, Brut to Tommy Girl. Featuring in-depth interviews with the perfumers, bottle designers, and fragrance developers who brought these iconic scents to life, the book is comprehensive, fascinating, and quite beautiful. In the midst of his world tour, Edwards was in New York CIty as a featured guest at the TFF Awards luncheon. He also shared his wealth of knowledge at an event at FIT for students, then joined a special panel with Chris Collins moderated by Linda G. Levy. Here Edwards spoke to ACCORDS to discuss how, ultimately, the history of perfume is about much more than what we smell in the flacon.
What was the criteria for fragrances to be included in American Legends?
Exactly the same criteria that I applied to the first book. It was limited to fragrances that introduced a new note or a technology so innovative that competitors flocked to copy it. Think for example of the Iso E Super in Halston, or Antonia’s Flowers, which pioneered Headspace technology. Or, alternatively, fragrances that made such an impact that they created a new trend. Think of Charlie in the 1970s. Before Charlie, men bought fragrance for women. After Charlie, women bought fragrance for themselves. Or Elizabeth Taylor’s Passion, which started an explosion in celebrity fragrances.
I also chose fragrances that reflected their times. Nobody talks about Bluegrass now, but before there was Lauder, before there was Rubenstein, there was Elizabeth Arden. When the stock market crashed in 1929, Elizabeth Arden soared. I found a Forbes report that said she had earned more money than any other woman in the history of America. And you might wonder why I included Demeter’s Dirt, from 1996. But it pioneered the sense of memory. If you look at Martin Margiela, for example, and the Replica scents. That goes back to Dirt.
What are some of the main ways that the story of American fragrance differs from the story of fragrance in France and elsewhere?
It’s an interesting question. American fragrances, when you smell them close up, they’re not always that pretty, but in the air they resonate. That’s the American spirit. Estée Lauder believed that women expect American fragrances to start the way they end. She had little patience with this idea of top notes, of fragrances changing over time: It has to be straight, she believed. It has to be direct.
What do you think defines an American perfume?
On the one hand, it can be loud, or even crass. On the other hand, it can be striking, innovative, and rich. In any market, you get the extremes. But in America, you get more extremes.
I start off the book by saying that to the French perfume is liquid art, to the Italians it’s liquid style, and to the Americans it’s liquid money. Nowhere else do you have the clash of art and commerce so fiercely. It was Ernest Shiftan, the father of American perfumery, who said that the history of perfumery is the history of our civilization. And he was right. Americans can be bold, striking, and direct. So can their fragrances. It’s a different style from the French.
One of the most fascinating aspects of the book is the way it illustrates how fragrance trends reflect larger shifts in American culture.
Absolutely. I’ve found, for example, that in most people’s minds Norell was just another designer fragrance. But Norell was crucial. Until that time in America, most upscale department stores had not regarded perfume as an important category to focus on. In the 1960s, even Chanel No. 5 was a drugstore fragrance. But Norell’s success in specialty department stores was so spectacular that it forced them to reassess their thinking. It even opened the door for Estée Lauder, who launched Estée in 1968, just when these stores were starting to support fragrance. Norell also opened corporate America’s eyes to the potential of licensing designer fragrances. In the early 1970s you started to see the Halstons, the Anne Kleins, etcetera, and at the same time baby boomers, who were getting really interested in status labels, were moving to the suburbs, where department stores were being opened. By continuing to focus almost exclusively on prestigious center city stores, the French totally missed the moment—while all the American designer brands were making hay in the sunshine in the suburbs.
In his lovely introduction to your book, Leonard Lauder touches on the idea that America has changed the way the world wears fragrance. In what ways has it done this?
It has—no ifs, no buts. Charlie, for example, had a huge impact far beyond America. Brut, too, changed the world. When I was researching the Caleche by Hermès for Perfume Legends, the man who developed it told me that the original intent was to launch a fragrance for men rather than women, but there was no market in France for men’s fragrances. He said that the key was Brut—when it came along, it created the men’s business worldwide.
Look at Giorgio in the 1980s—such a potent, powerful scent—then look at Obsession. And surely America influenced Poison. We can also talk about Elizabeth Taylor’s Passion, the first of the great celebrity fragrances. It launched in 1985 and was so explosive that within the next 10 years we tracked the launch of some 600 celebrity fragrances. But that was part of the problem: In order to pay the celebrities, brands were forced to cut the quality of the juice and complaints soared. And that was why people were so open to niche fragrances when they came in. It was a unique coming together of factors that changed everything.
In American Legends, there is noticeable diversity in key roles, including brand founders, perfumers, and bottle designers. How does that reflect the spirit and development of American perfumes?
To my mind, America is far ahead of France. When you think of French female perfumers, there was Madame Z for Jeanne Lanvin back in the 1920s who did four fragrances, but it wasn’t until the 1940s that you had Germaine Cellier, who created Bandit and Fracas. Whereas America was different. Ernest Shiftan seemed very comfortable with women and deliberately encouraged them. I mean, think of [Youth Dew perfumer] Josephine Catapano. He hired her. Think of Bethy Buseé, who created Chloé, and Estée. When she came to America, Shiftan hired her as a secretary because she spoke French, but he would test everybody in his vicinity and he was struck by the sensitivity of her nose. I mean, she was a brutal perfumer. She refused to adhere to any techniques and if you didn’t like what she gave you, she’d throw it across the room. But she was a genius. Then there was Sophia Grojsman, another incredible perfumer, also IFF. Some people may say that until recently American perfumery was a man’s culture. But when you look at the sheer number of women perfumers, it’s impressive.
At TFF, DEI is the #1 priority. How do you see DEI in fragrance evolving?
It is changing, although slowly. I would anticipate that by now we would have more Black American brands, but I think I have picked up only about nine so far. We’ve seen James Bell, who did Passion, with his marvelous story, but Black perfumers have been rare. It’s silly, and overdue because the Black American and the Hispanic American are two key users of fragrances. Absolutely. So hopefully we will see a lot more of that kind of diversity, in all kinds of roles throughout the industry, which will bring in new ideas and creativity.