Scottish Daily Mail

Return of the oh-so pungent 80s perfumes

- by Hannah Betts

Had the Eighties not existed, no one would have been crass enough to invent them: an age in which greed was good, hair was huge and shoulders even mightier. But now, the decade that taste forgot is back in full, garish Technicolo­r.

On the catwalk, shoulder pads abound, there’s a remake of TV series dynasty — and we have the return of Eighties perfume.

The best-selling scents of the period, such as Opium by YSL, Giorgio by Giorgio of Beverly Hills, Poison by dior, and Calvin Klein’s Obsession, reflected the era perfectly. Big, brash, and brassy, they were as suffocatin­g in their ambition as in their over-stuffed ingredient­s.

The big brands are rushing to bring out modern versions of their Eighties classics. Last year, dior launched Poison Girl, the first reformulat­ion of its distinctiv­e oriental blockbuste­r — a rich, sultry, heavy scent — since it was launched in 1985. It’s a calmer affair featuring bitter orange, rose, tonka bean and sandalwood.

Yves Saint Laurent has the new Opium Black, a ‘rock ’n’ roll’ re-imagining of its 1977 fragrance, with coffee and pink pepper notes.

Then there are the original scents still available on fragrance counters — and hoping to lure in a new generation of fans.

as millennial­s come of age, they are increasing­ly discerning in their perfume choices, seeking out top quality and an impressive heritage.

Retail analyst Mintel notes that, while the value of the market for perfumes and body sprays has been declining, there is a strong and growing appetite for ‘niche characteri­stics’ from ‘fine fragrance brands’ — and the big Eighties numbers are certainly that.

Meanwhile, a U.S. study found that although thousands of new fragrances were launched in 2015, four of the five top sellers were more than a decade old, as women seek the reassuranc­e of quality and an interestin­g back story.

But James Craven, archivist for specialist boutique Les Senteurs explains that going back to the Eighties will require a mental adjustment.

‘Nowadays, perfume is taken very seriously,’ he says. ‘Back then, it was sold by hype — such as Giorgio reputedly being banned in restaurant­s because of its overpoweri­ng scent. Obsession, Opium and Poison aimed to be shocking.

‘These power perfumes were about recklessne­ss, defiance of caution and an appetite for life. Customers bought scents to show off.’

THE way people wore fragrance was no less uncompromi­sing: drenching themselves until their eyeballs smarted. It is incredible that Thatcher’s children have any sense of smell left. My friend, Lisa, tells me her mother would douse herself in Yves Saint Laurent’s Opium, then chain smoke while she was driving. ‘No wonder I was car sick,’ she says.

Yet, there was also something glorious about these epic aromas. They were provocativ­e, attention-seeking and feminist.

But is it a good idea to return to the sights and smells of one’s youth? I sampled the best and worst the decade had to offer to see if they stood the test of time.

AN OVERPOWERI­NG, VOLUPTUOUS FORCE

Yves Saint Laurent, Opium Eau de Toilette, 30ml, £44, theperfume­shop.com THE history of Eighties perfume begins with Opium, which shot to fame with Jerry Hall as its poster girl. Campaigns were fought to ban the perfume, claiming it glamorised drug use, which only fuelled the craze.

Opium is a stupendous oriental scent heavy on suggestive base notes. It simply flattens you, all the better to make you succumb to its voluptuous charms. It lingers, conjuring something feral (one of its ingredient­s, castoreum, was derived from beaver glands).

VERDICT: On the right woman — fabulous, assertive, domineerin­g — this could still work.

THE LOVE/HATE CONCOCTION

Dior, Poison Eau de Toilette, 20ml, £46, dior.com POISON — created for dior in 1985 by Edouard Flechier — was another oriental cut from the same extravagan­t cloth as Opium. aggressive­ly overt, Poison is impossible to be objective about — a love/hate concoction crammed with fruit, spice and musk. So brutish is it, it’s surprising it was so commonplac­e — a noxious snare worn by everyone from teens to grandmothe­rs.

VERDICT: Too lurid for today’s tastes — as it should have been at the time!

SCENT BUT NO SENSIBILIT­Y

Calvin Klein Obsession Eau de Parfum, 100ml, £68, boots.com aNOTHER colossal oriental blend, this was launched the same year as Poison, in an advertisin­g campaign featuring a tangle-bodied orgy. For me, working in a bar aged 17, the stench of the stuff was overwhelmi­ng to the point of nausea. Sniffing it now conjures ripped jeans, clumpy shoes and drunken couples.

VERDICT: It’s not always easy to get hold of this — a relief to those of us who still can’t stomach it.

THE STENCH OF REAL MONEY

Giorgio Beverly Hills, Giorgio Eau De Toilette, 30ml, £24.95 fragranced­irect.co.uk GIORGIO was the exception within the ‘big four’ perfumes of the Eighties for being a floral rather than an oriental blend. But what a stonking superflora­l it was with its profusion of tuberose and gardenia. It was the ultimate status perfume worn by Farrah Fawcett, Jacqueline Bisset — and even Michael Jackson. VERDICT: Less noxious than it seemed, but still awful.

SICKLY SWEET SCHOOL FAVOURITE

The Body Shop, White Musk Eau de Parfum, 50ml, £22, thebodysho­p.com aS a schoolgirl, I loved White Musk, whose tenacious tang settled like a smog over every classroom. I should detest its sickly sweetness now, but it takes me right back to the age of 11. VERDICT: Great for nostalgia addicts.

THE FRUITY LITTLE NUMBER

Cacharel Loulou Eau de Parfum, 50ml, £24.95, thebeautys­tore.co.uk MY PEERS may have been fixated on spicily sexual fragrances, but by my late teens I was seeking out a subtler fare: namely, Cacharel’s 1987 hit Loulou. This is an alluring fruity oriental on a beguiling wood, tonka bean, vetiver, iris and musk base. It may no longer be me, but it continues to hold its own. VERDICT: Still cool. I’ll try this on my goddaughte­r.

SMART AND SOPHISTICA­TED

Paloma Picasso, Paloma Picasso Eau de Parfum, 100ml, £48.95, allbeauty.com aNOTHER adolescent favourite was Paloma Picasso’s serenely provocativ­e perfume. Picasso’s jewellery designer daughter determined that her creation would be a chypre, or mossy fragrance, rather than an oriental. The result remains strong, sophistica­ted and smart.

VERDICT: This one’s a keeper.

HAUGHTY . . . YET RATHER NAUGHTY

Chanel, Coco Eau De Toilette Spray, 100ml, £88, thefragran­ceshop.co.uk CHaNEL’S Coco delivers haughty rather than over-the-top sensuality. a cascade of honeyed spices give way to a floral heart, set on a cooly enigmatic base. The effect is sexy, but impeccably so. VERDICT: Overlooked and a delight to come back to.

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