Found in Translation: Perfume in the breeze and a climbing Charlize.

Bosom friends I am rather baffled today.

I was enjoying my morning coffee with a side of hubby when I saw the umpteenth perfume commercial. I understand that we are close to the gift giving mother of days, but enough is enough!
I now feel the urge to express my sentiment over those glossy and quite irritating miniature movies that advertise smelly waters.

I do love to wear perfume. I am not one of those hippies that consider laundry soap fancy.
I delight myself in spritzing expensive cologne all over my erogenous zones. I sometimes spray a whole cloud of my favorite fragrance and just walk in it. Very decadent and slightly demented.
I have a whole collection of essences from Italian to French brands and dusting and rearranging all of those pretty bottles can very often be a full day project. Again slightly demented.

Amen sister Coco.

I any case, I have never bought a fragrance just because I was mesmerized by its TV commercial.
I did buy Aveeno face cream once because I saw Jennifer Aniston on TV telling me I wear it with everything (if it is good enough for Jen then it must be good enough for me too), but I only ever purchased something that is supposed to smell good because I actually liked the way that it tickled my sense of smell. I have never chosen a fragrance only because some overly paid actor or model enticed me to do so.

To be said, some of those adverts are small cinematic masterpieces but they are so good not because they smell good but because the creative team that put them together are amazing at their job. I am sure we are all aware that we cannot get a whiff of Eau de Whatever from our TV sets. What those rather long commercials are trying to sell us is a mood, a state of mind even. On top of that they often feature somebody we all know well or at least we would want to sleep with.
If you think about it there isn't a modern scent ad that bothers to describe what the actual bouquet is made of. Our interests have to be stimulated in other ways.
They have to link their product with a desirable abstract idea. The abstract idea being SEX. Masculine or feminine it's not relevant as long as it makes you tingle in your privates. Many of those advertisements are erotic in nature as much as Hugh Hefner's magazine. Doesn't matter that there is perhaps more to those cologne ads (Playboy does have some written articles in it too), what sells is the libido factor, the promise of imminent copulation brought to you by the powerful serum contained in that fancy little bottle.
There are other messages exploited by perfume campaigns such as excellence in sports, freedom and independence, youthfulness, beauty, rebellion and happiness. In any case what they are basically telling you is that you are not going to achieve your best in any of those categories because you are not yet wearing their potent fragrant potion.
Even the bottles have to be appealing. A perfume is a perfume is a perfume. We are not doing brain surgery here. What also sets a cologne apart from the others is the shape of the bottles they are sold in. It has to be a designer's creation made of Murano glass that weighs at least 10 lbs. The fact that it may be very difficult to handle is not important. The fragrance itself is very much secondary. Of course it cannot smell like Eau de Poo, but what is going to boost its sales has very little to do with the floral notes and the essential oils contained in it.

What I really find silly though are the plots of those perfume ads we see on TV.

The ones filmed in black and white are usually eager to depict a very cool attitude towards life. They are painting the picture of a young, restless and well styled type of generation.We usually see a couple (male and female God forbid!) either dressed up in their finest or half naked. In either cases they are not at a gala or in a bedroom where those attires belong. No. They are instead rolling on a beach at dawn, or running and jumping from roof to roof (still at dawn). Also they are mildly grinding on each other and even when they are trying their best to french kiss, they never quite successfully aim at their lover's lips in spite of their close proximity. They end up looking like they are having sexual harassing Turrets.
Let's not forget they must be doing all of that at dawn because they are so unconventional. They are rules breakers. They don't care what the uncool people think of them. All they need is to spray gallons of Eau de I don't care what you think, but I actually do and pull those idiotic facial expression that range from the I have very bad gas face to the I am staring at something very cool but only I can see it, to the ever green I pout because only fat people smile.

Then we have the girls-only advertisements. In this case they have to be at their best. Happy, thin and showing smiles full of teeth. 99% of the time they have a wind machine blowing their hair extensions in all kind of directions and they are very often getting rid of something (taking their dress off, shattering jewellery...)
Charlize Theron is telling us that the past can be beautiful but the future is gold. Thank you Charlize, perhaps the people of your own country (South Africa) would not really agree on that point. Plus she is enlightening us with that consideration while climbing a piece of silk and destroying a string of pearls. Once she has made it to the top of the classical dome she looks at the view of a city that resembles Dubai or any other super rich megalopolis. Amazing and very relatable.

A new found skill.

On the other hand we have Julia Roberts making us aware that life is beautiful. She used to be chained in cuffs of diamonds, but screw those shiny stones! She is now liberated from social bounds and can freely climb a flight of stairs to nowhere (with the fortuitous help of a wind machine on her face).

Chained in diamonds.

Free and ready to climb to nowhere.

Of course the evergreen Kate Moss is just wearing a British raincoat and she is sitting on top of a gigantic bottle of perfume sharing the spotlight with a girl half her age. She is looking as starving and as in need of a cigarette as usual. Only now her face has to be digitally enhanced for days before the ad can be ready for the market. They were quite the sadists putting her right next to a pre-puberty model.

You can tell Kate ain't very happy.

The one ad that I hold dear to my heart as the silliest one is the Chanel N.5 that had Brad Pitt in it.
A very raggedy version of Mr Pitt to be precise. He looked like he needed to take a shower to begin with, the perfume seemed highly superfluous right then and there. Then he goes on and on telling us the following:
It’s not a journey,
every journey ends but we go on,
the world turns and we turn with it.
Plans disappear and dreams take over.
But where ever I go – there you are.
My luck, my fate, my fortune.
CHANEL N°5 inevitable.
He recites this modern age Shakespeare mambo-jumbo while looking into the camera with the biggest pair of puppy-eyes we have seen since the ones on Puss in Boots from Shrek. Of course filmed in black and white and with particular attention paid to airbrushing off his under eye bags for a better puppy-eyes result. He looks like a greasy puppy-headed dullard. A beautiful one though.

Brad's puppy eyes.

Puss in Boots.

Brad's commercial though is still better than the one on TV now for Invictus (Paco Rabanne).
This oil drenched male model (with a body that only a gay self obsessed guy could achieve), is parading around in the bottom half of his team uniform on a field of glory. With one move of both his arms he is achieving wonders, even though he looks more like an air traffic controller. An assembly of gods and goddesses are saluting him while he carries a victory cup on his shoulder. The expression on his face makes me cringe. He ends up looking like he is trying very hard to make us believe that
1- he has a large dick,
2- he is a large dick.
Mission accomplished on the second front.
This madness ends with the invincible bro retiring to the locker room only to find 5 Victoria Secret's virgin models waiting for him.
At his sight those damsels let the silk drapes they were dressed with fall off and their ovaries sing the Ode to Joy.
A masterpiece.

Just below I added a quick summary in pictures of the Invictus ad.

If you don't believe me go check those videos on YouTube.

Reality is scarier than written words.

Ciao for now.