Verve Mist of Spring by Prince Matchabelli

Chesebrough-Ponds, now known as Unilever, acquired Prince Matchabelli in 1958. Following this change of hands, one of the first products debuted under the Prince Matchabelli name was their new line of VERVE colognes. Those familiar with Prince Matchabelli will recall the old PM Crown bottles- identical in shape and form, except for differently colored enamel or glass insets. The colors were used to distinguish between the various PM scents. The 1960 Verve scents came packaged similarly- plain glass columns with various pastel-colored plastic dispenser tops corresponding to the various scents.

Confetti: deep periwinkle blue
Misty Lace: true pink
Mist of Musk: clay pink
Mist of Spring: pale lavender blue
Softly Oriental: pale mauve pink
Twilight Mist: turquoise

I'm not sure how much effort Chesebrough-Ponds ever put into advertising the Verve line- it seems as if I can recall seeing some magazine ads for Verve Mist of Musk but I sure couldn't pull anything up online as of today. In any case, the line slipped away and was discontinued only a few years later.  Despite the lack of fan-fare, these scents were very well done for the casual cologne genre and many perfumistas have fond memories of the scents. I missed Verve by a few years and so I only knew of it by its reputation.

Recently I was delighted to spot the pale lavender top of PM's Verve: Mist of Spring during a vintage rummage. Luckily the Verve colognes have such generic, nondescript packaging that you can often find them lurking around thrift store shelves and the like, past by, forgotten or ignored. If you like the convenience and purchase protection of buying from an online source like Ebay, bottles of Verve scents sell for very moderate prices (around $35 dollars). 

I wasn't sure how good this scent would be given that the look of it is on the cheap, no-frills side but my fears were unfounded. While Mist of Spring is one of the less common Verve fragrances, it turns out to be is a perfectly lovely spring scent which opens up as a delicate but delectable hyacinth-iris scented cloud. Gentle touches of something like a diluted jasmine incense underline the misty quality of the scent. Everything settles down relatively early as it resolves into a gentle, clean herbal musk. At this stage it smells very similar to the old dark green Clairol herbal essence shampoo. If you recall the scent of this shampoo, it has become something of a Holy Grail, scent-fetish of mine. I'm always looking for a perfume dupe for it. But the finish of Verve Mist of Spring is super light. Overall, its not nearly as intense as I want it to be and for a hard-core perfume junkie, it's something of a frustrating tease. I love the notes but would probably need to huff a pure concrete of this scent in order to get much satisfaction from it. However, there are many fans of light scents who might find Verve to be a nearly perfect form of vintage perfume nirvana.

Note: Prince Matchabelli released a 1930s perfume called Verve but only the name was borrowed for the 1960s, not the scent.

The Vintage Perfume Vault, where the scent of yesterday's vogue lives.

image: Iris by Caroll Thayer Berry

Abandon your cares to Abano; Prince Matchabelli's Spa Scent

Abano is one of the stealthy classics of vintage perfumery; it also happens to be one of my personal favorite scents. This Prince Matchabelli creation is ardently loved by its fans, who hold its secrets close. You will scarcely hear tell of Abano, yet if you check out some completed auction listings, you will see how much people are willing to pay for the pleasure of it.

What makes this scent so special? Part fragrance, part treatment, it was the first of the modern day "spa scents"; Clarins Eau Dynamisante and Lancome Aroma Tonic are two more recent examples of the type. But Abano was done in the old school tradition; it's more of a prototype. Released in 1931 (other sources: 1934), Abano was one of Prince Matchabelli's earliest scents. The Prince was in fact an amateur chemist, and there are some who believe he had a hand in formulating at least some of the early scents.

Guéorgui Vassilievitch Matchabelli (1885-1935)

The packaging for Abano features a Greco-Roman style mosaic of a seahorse wearing a crown, reinforcing the Grecian spa associations. There is a little blurb of information about Abano which appears, more or less as a direct quote, almost everywhere it's mentioned on the Internet. But you won't find much else written about it:

"Launched by Prince Matchabelli in 1931, now discontinued. Advertising slogan: "Abandon Your Cares to Abano." Named for the famous rejuvenation spa at Abano Terme, Italy. Made of a stress relieving blend of oakmoss, orange, patchouli, lavender, herbs and grasses."

 travelitaly.com

Abano is named after the ancient sea-side community (now resort, town) in Northern Italy; for centuries people have traveled to Abano seeking out it's natural hot springs and healing mud baths.

The print advertising for Abano feature a photograph of a beautiful, serene woman swimming naked through crystal blue waters and the following text:

Drift in serenity ABANO bath oil smooths your body. It's fragrance soothes your soul. Does just what the ancients knew fragrance could do. Drift in ABANO. Slowly breathe in Abano's exotic fragrance and feel trouble-making tensions drift away. You find again your own true core of serenity. You emerge renewed for living wrapped in a silken robe of lasting fragrance.

Whenever it's offered for sale today Abano typically commands premium prices. There are two versions of Abano, one the bath oil and the other, perfume or sometimes a 'Cologne Parfumee' version. The perfume also comes in a Cologne Spray Mist and an After Bath Cologne.

If you are seeking Abano perfume, there is an Abano knock-off advertised online... If you've been curious about it or have been looking for a replacement scent, then this might be just the thing for you. I can't vouch for the quality of this pretender but once I exhaust my current supply for the vintage, and if I don't hear anything negative in the meantime, I just may give it a go.  However, I can't help wondering if this new juice has snuck it's way into any vintage bottles?

Quirky Finds

Most of the Abano that I see is the bath oil variety. It was widely available and sold well for many years, often in this column style bottle shown above. The bath oil seems to have a touch more animal characteristics, spice and bite compared to the cologne, which is sweeter with more orange and drier grass notes. But both smell intoxicating, breezy, and recall the feeling of being on a Mediterranean coast line. Or in my case, it's actually the Northern California coast line which is very similar to the Mediterranean. The bath oil ages from yellow to a deep coffee or cola color while the scent remains sweet and fresh.

The older perfumes I've seen are colored in the same way as the oil but the Cologne Parfumee tends to turn deeper and deeper shades of orange. The crown bottles like this one above (from Aunt Judy's Attic) usually contain the perfume or Cologne Parfumee. Another bottle style from the 1960s-1970s, shown below, holds the Cologne Spray Mist:

The plastic lids on this bottle often come up cracked or missing pieces and mine is no exception, so it's been taped up. On the reverse side of the periwinkle label reads: Prince Matchabelli ABANO Cologne Spray Mist. This is a 1.8 fluid ounce size. It is not refillable.

Back to the scent.That blend of oakmoss, orange, patchouli, lavender, herbs and grasses contains a special balance of benefits. It shares with many lavender based scents, an ability to stimulate the body while calming the mind. Many men and some women find the scent has an arousing effect as well. The orange enlivens and brings feelings of renewal and joy, the oakmoss and patchouli center the psyche, while herbs and grasses sweeten and fix the base. This quote from starchild,com describes the 'magical' benefits of oakmoss:

...grounding and sensual in an earthy sort of way. It enhances sensitivity and awareness and may be used by those who wish to listen to the nature spirits and the voice of Mother Earth...

Abano has been compared to other potent scented oils - Youth Dew and Weil's Bath oil scent Secret de Venus. However Abano has a much more rustic, aromatic and refreshing feeling to it than either of those heavier, oriental feeling scents. I think of it as a forerunner not only to the many spa and treatment scents we find today but also the hugely popular category of clean, oceanic scents. Calvin Klein's Eternity, similarly groundbreaking in it's own time creates the same clean, serene feeling of existing in wide open spaces as Abano. As Abano dries down, the spices, citrus and musky trace clings to your skin like a veil.

For the vintage perfume lover looking for more vintage scents with similar theme, try Azuree by Estee Lauder, Geminesse by Max Factor or Royal Secret Bath Oil by Five Star.

The model in all of the black and white photographs is Florette Lartigue. The photographs are circa 1940s taken by Henri Lartigue (her husband at the time).

I wonder if you recognize Florette Lartigue? She is my Google ID avatar; for some reason I have always felt deeply connected to her images. I know you must tire of my vintage perfume assignations, which perfume goes with which beauty... but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Florette wore Abano. Daring yet joyful, unisex yet uber-sexy, earthy yet delicate, Abano matches her laughing eyes, dashing modern spirit, lilting grace and tough, sarcastic side like nothing else could.

The Vintage Perfume Vault, where the scent of yesterday's vogue lives...

SOTD: Prince Matchabelli Beloved Cologne Parfumee

image: Marilyn by Eve Arnold, 1955

Boy, did Prince Matchabelli ever make some great smelling perfumes. Today I'm wearing another of his fragrances and as much I enjoyed wearing his lilac scent, I'm even more in love with this 1950 release, called appropriately... "Beloved".

Beloved was originally advertised as being rich, warm whisper of youth for the mature woman. Compared by some reviewers over at Basenotes to La Nuit by Paco Rabanne, it opens as a juicy orange, followed by jasmine, rose and amber. And while I'm not yet able to define it precisely the scent has an incense note, one that I associate with many vintage perfumes. But what really sets it apart to me is the strong clear civet note. I smell it immediately and throughout wearing. It is strong and yet so well melded to the spice and amber that is escapes perception as dirty. At the dry-down, the civet and amber, clinging to a dash of beeswax, is all that I smell. People who adore Shocking, Youth Dew and Royal Secret should like this scent. But I recommend it most to those of you interested in adding a terrific vintage "animal" scent to your wardrobe, for not a whole lot of bucks.

 image: national geographic

Note: This perfume is always called "Cologne Parfumee"- it is actually part of the title "Beloved Cologne Parfumee". I see some newer looking bottles, but I'd try to get something in a crown shaped bottle or if you know Matchabelli, one of their 1950s style. Beloved originally came in the Robin's Egg Blue Crown Bottle.

The Vintage Perfume Vault, where the scent of yesterday's vogue lives.

Prince Matchabelli Duchess of York Perfume

For the past couple of days I've been wearing The Duchess of York by Prince Matchabelli. Released in 1934 it is a beautiful Lilac scent, a soliflore. We have a large blue lilac in our back yard and although it's been months since its bloomed, this perfume smells just like its freshly picked blossoms. Kaleidoscopic in its way, lilac offers up ever-changing facets, smelling to me of lily of the valley and jasmine by turns. It also oscillates between polleny/spicy and sharp/soft. Somehow it manages to smell very purple but it is nothing at all like the more familiar (by today's perfumers) purple reference flowers violet, and/or iris.

One of the things I love about smelling lilac is that my nose never seems to tire of or forget its around, so I keep smelling it again and again throughout the day. Lilac is actually kind of an old-fashioned scent by now. You hardly smell someone wearing lilac scent (yet it's really, really pretty to wear as a perfume). A few years back, I bought an attar of lilac (I'd never heard of it before. I have no idea if it was an actual attar, but I doubt it...) Anyway, it smelled really good- so heady, spicy yet lushly floral and with something dark about it, too. Very compelling, and because it has become unusual again it could make a good choice for a signature scent.

Lilac actually suffered from being too popular. Over-used by the soap and chemical industry to scent 'functional' products like bathroom air-fresheners and laundry detergent, by 1950s people no longer considered the scent so special. There's nothing like pairing the essence of a beautiful flower with a bleak little spot that reeks of ammonia cakes, scouring powders and worse to ruin it.

Luckily, I missed out on any negative lilac associations and realize it makes a remarkable smelling perfume. If you are looking for gorgeous vintage lilac scent to try, Duchess of York is a great choice. You can actually find it if you look around a bit, just shop around for a bottle in good condition and try to get a good deal on the price. BTW: If you collect the colored crown bottles, Duchess of York came in the periwinkle blue version.

 

In any form or bottle, it is highly recommended!

The Vintage Perfume Vault, where the scent of yesterday's vogue lives.

image of
Blue Lilac from the Morton Arboretum
Prince Matchabelli bottle from live auctioneers.com
Girl with Lilacs from betterbaking.com

The Ghost of All Yesterday's Parties: Coty Nuance

(image: stevesvintageads)

Coty's Nuance was released in 1975. It was the era of women's liberation and Helen Reddy had a little diddy on the radio that you may recall titled, I Am Woman. In that same year, Prince Matchabelli released Aviance, a fragrance marketed to the suburban housewife with fantasies of liberation. The tag line: "I've been sweet and I've been good, I've had a whole full day of motherhood, but I'm gonna have an Aviance night." Even if it was just a moment in the 70's I recall those ads vividly. A frumpily dressed house wife strips into lacy nothings and greets her man at the door. The print campaign consisted of a  full-page shot of the man leaning against the doorway, as seen through the bare legs of what is his loving, laying-in-wait wife- but you can't find that ad online!

(imagestate.com)

Also, recall the revolution that was Charlie, the scent for the modern woman released by Revlon just two years earlier in 1973. Charlie was raking it in with its cute, fresh working woman advertising campaign. So there was for mainstream, middle class America a multitude of images competing to define the "new" modern woman. She brought home the bacon and fried it in the pan (nothing new there but it was recycled to sound pretty good for those with short memories), even if she was portrayed as a strictly neophite version of the working woman... These scents were part of  the landscape of the brave new world of the 1970s. The fragrances were designed and driven by their advertsing campaign and marketing strategists, rather than having the advertisement designed to serve the real product, fragrance. The makers of these scents were more driven by Wall Street concerns, than any tradition or practice of art. They needed something to appeal to the spirit of the day and sought something that would oppose the conventional tastes of previous generations. In the case of perfumes, that happens to include some glorious, stunning creations, fine fragrances of  the 1940s and 50s from Dior and Guerlain and the like. So instead they gave the American consumer something new, something cheaper and also much more vulgar. In a way, the new fragrances didn't even need to smell so good. There is a quote from someone at Prince Matchabelli, I think, saying something like that Aviance sold well, despite not smelling very good, even to the ones who were making and selling it. But it appealed and in the end, won many dollars of sales through its advertising story. It promised just the right thing, at the right time. Nuance was Coty's answer to what perfume the modern 1970's woman wore. Coty tried to be right there with the 1970s zeitgeist but chose to play up the indivdiuality aspect, and struck a chord with the do your own thing generation. Nuance's selling point wasn't about it's big up-front message of a new attitude, but just a deft use of one of the oldest tricks in the book- "if you want to capture someone's attention, whisper... " It was touted at the time that it developed differently on each woman and created a lasting, evolving impression. Don't forget that Coty was once a great French house and had the tradition of designing great fragrances in their past. I recall magazine advertisements at the time, or possibly television spots, telling that Nuance gave each woman something of her own signature scent. I think I actually bought it for my mother one mother's day, comforting myself that it was a truly special gift by virtue of it's magical property of smelling different on different women. She was very sweet to wear it a while back then.  It was ubiquitous in the stores back then, too, and for many years afterwards. I believe it has been discontinued, and if you check at on line etailers it is growing more scarce, although I know there must be plenty of new old stock bottles out there collecting dust across the USA.

(image: mississauga at kijiji)

I have my stash of Nuance from an old drug store byout that resulted in a number of small Christmas tree decoration style bottles full of the cologne version. Coty often offered it's yearly perfume releases packaged as Christmas ornaments during the holidays (...to continue the tangent thread of my nutty, out of time Christmas fragrance binge...). Nuance opens with a burst of aldehydes and soft fruity rose, a touch of cinnamon spice and more than a touch of finely milled, mild French soap note including hints of woody aromatic lavendar. It has shadows of a woody, even mossy greeness and the whole is blanketed in Coty's 1970 era musk, which has a rich vanilla sweetness to it. Nuance does indeed tell a story; it opens in control and assertive, the office gal who plays it pretty tough at the local bar after work but quickly reveals herself to be more tender and tentative, a shy and probably pretty girl who only lets her hair down loose when she thinks no one is watching, in the garden. The spice and aldehyde give it that inital push in the brash direction, and the lavendar lets you know this isn't just any shrinking violet in a skirt but before anyone forms any firm conclusions, the vanilla softens 'em up and reels 'em in.  The lasting impression is soapy, musky and a little sweet. I think Nuance probably has some well deserved fans out there because at this point, even to me, nothing smells exactly like it any more. It's ironic, because at one point in time Nuance was impossibly derivative; now it is more like iconic. And better smelling than Aviance or Charlie, imo.
The Vintage Perfume Vault, where the scent of yesterday's vogue lives.

The Continuing Search for Max Factor Geminesse...

There is a very interesting thread on a favorite vintage perfume of mine called Geminesse at Perfume of Life titled: In Search of Max Factor Geminesse(http://www.perfumeoflife.org/lofiversion/index.php/t25815.html). In that link, perfume lovers lament the loss of this scent and try to come up with suggestions of similar scents. Since Geminesse remains wildly popular yet rare and hard to find, many people would like to find a substitute. To get you started thinking about it, Geminesse is in the beachy and fresh aromatic realm of scents but there really aren't any modern perfumes I could compare it to. It is light and fresh in a totally different way than today's overly sanitized, ozonic and watery marine ideal.

In fact, today's perfumers might want to take note of how popular and really well done the older marine based scents were (and seemingly without the all too common water note of today, the molecule Calone!). Edit: I assumed Calone is newer than it is but turns out it was discovered by Pfizer in 1966, although I do not smell it in Geminesse. It is one of the unusual perfumes that represented the idea of a warm herperide-aromatic-marine scent for women. The mid stages of leather-floral mix found in Geminesse sit on top of a mild musky and ambery base, so there is an almost oriental feel to it as well, but the feeling it gives is much lighter and more transparent than many modern oriental scents. In 2008, someone started an online petition drive to bring Geminesse back, see http://www.gopetition.com/petitions/bring-back-geminesse.html. Sadly this movement never got off the ground and right now the petition has stalled with only 50 signatures but maybe they could use a few more?? (Hint, hint.)

Notes listed for Geminesse over at Basenotes include jasmine, rose, ylang, muguet and tuberose supported by vetiver, oakmoss, amber, musk and leather. Given that list of notes, some people surmised Geminesse might smell a lot like Bandit since the list of notes is very similar. But the notes listed for Geminesse do not give a good picture of it. For one thing, lavender is perhaps the most prominent note in the composition but strangly it is not listed as a note anywhere! In fact, Bandit and Geminesse could hardly be further apart in spirit. Bandit puts its leather upfront and center- black and stiff and the whole perfume is done in a somewhat harsh, haute couture style (which I also happen to love) but Geminesse is much more relaxed- a hippie-dippy sort of leather, more like that of a soft, hand-tooled leather purse than Bandit's kinky mask and gloves routine.

The aromatics create a soft lemony haze that surrounds Geminesse, making it incredibly comforting to wear. I understand it was maybe not so popular here in the US originally(?!) but it was apparently a hugh hit in Europe and London in particular... Strange really, since it smells like exactly sort of thing a quintessential California beach-girl from 1973 would want to wear. It is very wholesome and actually smells very similar to the original 1979 Fabrege Wheat Germ Oil and Honey shampoo, if you remember that one.

In fact Geminesse smells similar to scents in the family of soft citrus, green and leather tinged chypre (the ambery oriental aspect is lighter, laid over that base). It really is wonderfully done, projecting a citrus, powdery and meadowy fresh vibe at the same time, recalling Jean Patou's Moment Supreme and especially resembling Prince Matchabelli's Abano more than any other scent I can personally think of...

Of course these perfumes are rare scents, all highly sought after. For comparison sake, Abano's notes are listed as oakmoss, orange, patchouli, lavender, herbs and grasses. Honestly those notes give you a much better picture of Geminesse than the much notes I found listed from Basenotes.

Of the three scents (Geminesse, Abano and Moment Supreme), Abano is actually the fragrance I most prefer - the citrus is just a bit greener and for some reason Abano has a mouth watering effect on me that I crave sometimes, but the other two are excellent perfume compositions. Geminesse is a stand out for me because it comes from the workhorse of cosmetics in American movie business in Hollywood's Golden Era, Max Factor. The brand was born in 1965, incvluding the perfume making it safe to say that Geminesse was not a modern Calone spin-off but an old school perfume with great bones. Both Abano and Geminesse were Mediterranean inspired. Abano being the name of a resourt town in the mediterranean and Geminesse showing its Grecian influence in the classic Greek art work that adorned early bottles. Each of these represents the extinct ideal of the European resort scent, a beachy, vacation scent but not made to reflect Miami or Tropical Pan Asian Island areas. Obviously marine scents can be handled in as many different styles as there are shore lines. Clean aromatics, vetiver and musky leathery notes were used instead of fruits, white flowers or big synthetics... to create the impression of wind and surf, transporting us back to the place where warm sun and the salty tang of sea air kissed the skin as fingery breezes teased one's hair. Geminesse takes you to that kind of a place, too so it is no wonder the scent is sorely missed!

The Vintage Perfume Vault, where the scent of yesterday's vogue lives.