Taking a wrong turn in Singapore’s sprawling Mustafa Centre a few months back, I ended up in 1978. There, facing me from the shelves was a line-up of fragrances that I hadn’t seen in the same place for years: Denim, Old Spice, Tabac and Brut: the fab four of Seventies fragrances. Sure, the livery had changed on a few of them (though I don’t think the Tabac Brand Artwork team has been that busy in the last 40 years) but they were still easily recognizable. Cheap, too. So what does an Afterworder do when he finds himself in a shop with cheap stuff that other folk haven’t been interested in since the 70s? He buys them of course, and here are my reviews.
Denim: For me, the most disappointing of the four: very, very light scent, as if a bottle of Smirnoff had been left open in a flower shop for a couple of hours. This used to be for the man who didn’t have to try too hard. What happened?
Old Spice: Probably the brand that’s had the highest profile over the last 40 years and it had a bit of swagger (it was actually on another shelf by itself and I had to move the can there for the photograph). Reminded you of a well-preserved/botoxed lead singer being reunited with his former band mates. I liked it, but I didn’t hear Carmina Burana.
Brut: Like Denim, it’s changed a bit, with a lighter scent than Henry Cooper would remember. Perhaps it was trying to evoke the ocean, or perhaps it was just cost saving. Better than the Denim, though.
Tabac: Now this was an experience, a fragrance that seems to be entirely composed of long lasting base notes. You could put it on on Monday, and still be all Tabaccy on Friday, even if you have a shower on, say, Wednesday. Perhaps the most Proustian of the four, a couple of dabs of it and the world went a bit Kodachrome. Also, you can’t see it in the picture, but the bottle was exactly the same as the one that sat cold and shivering for years next to the Matey bottle in our bathroom. You can’t buy these memories with 180g reissued vinyl.
So how about you? Were you an acolyte of any of these? Or perhaps you were an Eighties go-getter with Insignia? Or a post-modern 90s lad-about-town with your Lynx?
Jeff says
My new favourite Post Of The Year So Far.
But no Hai Karate?
Hawkfall says
*slaps forehead in disbelief*
Hai Karate! Hai Karate!
Hawkfall says
Actually, didn’t they stop making Hai Karate after all those cases of Haikaratosis in the 1980s?
Jeff says
Stop Making Scents – 1984.
H.P. Saucecraft says
To funny!
Black Celebration says
I will say this quietly because I may be in a minority – but I just don’t understand aftershave. Do you “splash it all over”, or do you just slap it into your cheeks and then go all Macaulay Caulkin on one’s ass? Or do you use a more subtle method (dabbing wrists, teabagging)?
As with most bathroom cabinets, a bottle of Old Spice languished long term at my parents’ house. I used to call it Rudolf Hess.
Johnny Concheroo says
I know what to do with aftershave, but I think scented water is one of the biggest rip-offs there is (along with printer ink). Frankly it’s hard to tell the difference between a $10 bottle and one costing $100.
MC Escher says
No wonder you think it’s a rip-off if you’ve gone out on the pull wearing a dab of Canon XL320 (Black) behind your ears. Your results would be mixed at best.
Johnny Concheroo says
Close. I use Canon 650 (Blk)
H.P. Saucecraft says
What a great piece. “Perhaps the most Proustian of the four …”
I use exclusively the after-shave they used to give out on aeroplanes. Fabergé? Hang on- (goes to look in Tupperware box where old medicines are kept) – Bvlgari, it says. Still nearly full. Hmm. (Splashes tiny amount into palm, smears on lower face). Oh no! I just looked at the bottle – it’s
eau parfumée, which is like actual French for toilet water. Thanks to you, Hawkfall, I now smell like a French toilet. Which may be an improvement – anyway, the dogs have moved from under my desk.
Hawkfall says
Yikes! You must have some high fallutin’ aeroplanes up in the Land of Smiles if they’re giving out Bvlgari. Down here they usually have some Sandalwood concoction in the WC that sends out that recognizable “I’ve just used the lavvy” smell. Or perhaps covers up any particular “I’ve just used the lavvy” smells that may still be lingering.
H.P. Saucecraft says
Yes, Bvlgari, body lotion, aftershave lotion, toilet water, good razor, bits and pieces in a quality toiletries bag. Either Etihad (humorously referred to as Jihad) or Emirates long-haul. Both superb airlines, generous with goodies and drinks. Last time I flew it was Air India, which is the last time I’ll fly Air India. I’d rather walk.
Hawkfall says
Ah that’s good to hear, I’m flying back to the old country in July with Emirates for the first time. I’m a big strapping lad, so I don’t fancy another 12 hour flight in Economy. Thought I’d split the journey in the Middle East, so I’m looking forward to stretching my legs and looking at all the incredibly expensive stuff that I’ve heard you can buy at Dubai Duty Free. I don’t think they’ll have Hai Karate though.
Jeff says
Blue Stratos, surely, would be most appropriate for air travel?
Hawkfall says
*slaps head in disbelief*
Blue Stratos! Blue Stratos!
Jeff says
I fear for your forehead but feel duty-bound (SWIDT) to say ‘Paco Rabanne’ at this point.
Hawkfall says
*slaps Jeff’s head in disbelief*
Paco Rabanne! Paco Rabanne!
Jeff says
*rubs forehead in disbelief*
How can he slap!!??
slotbadger says
I’m a Dubai Duty Free regular. No Hai Karate but if you’re after Jovan Musk for Men, you can’t go wrong
Hawkfall says
By the way, if you can listen to Beethoven’s Sixth all the way through without thinking of Tweed by Yardley once, then you’re way more cultured than I am.
bricameron says
Tough Crowd. Ignorant Crowd though.
Black Celebration says
OK – what’s the music then?
Hawkfall says
I don’t know the music, but I do know in Italy, the tagline was “per l’uomo che non deve chiedere mai”, which translates as “For the man who never needs to ask”.
duco01 says
I think the English version was “For the man who never needs to try too hard”.
Beany says
It’s the same voiceover artist used for Butch Soap. Telly Savalas maybe?
Timbar says
Bill Mitchell. Leading voice over artist in the 70s. Did a Pit and the Pendulum Lp. Was the voice on the “Get Sounds! Hear it” advert.
There was a radio 4 doco a while back. He used to sit in the pub all day along with Robert Powell & Tom Baker in Soho & the phone would ring. They’d go off for an hour to do a voice over & then back on the booze – which sadly got him in the end.
ianess says
I met Bill Mitchell in 1980 in some seedy (weren’t they all) Soho basement club. I was with my best mate and a couple of girls who’d invited us there. Hugh McIlvanney had called me ‘Nastase’ (I had long black hair and a tan) while queuing at the bar, so I’d put a large Scotch behind the bar for him. When he’d received it, he turned to find who’d bought it for him and came over to thank me. When he realised we were Scottish and once he’d eyed up the women, he decided to join us. Mitchell then came and joined the merry throng, but was so catastrophically pissed he could only emit the occasional low rumble. Hugh informed us, with no small amount of admiration, that ‘Bill earned 800 grand this year for voiceovers’. This was in 1980, as I’ve already mentioned. Staggering sum of money. Bill grunted and nodded.
About 2 in the morning, Bill decided to take his leave. He staggered to the bottom of the stairs and announced, in an extremely theatrical fashion, that he was going. This was met with ‘Norm’-style good wishes and people returned to their drinks. He took a couple of steps, then turned to the members and, again, announced his intention to depart. This was met with slightly less fondly expressed farewells. Another couple of steps and he turned once again to announce, with another actorly flourish, his intention to leave. This time, the virago manageress bellowed – ‘if you’re going to go, then fuck off home, you Canadian cunt.’
Bill took the hint.
Johnny Concheroo says
Bravo! Great yarn Ian.
chiz says
A friend of mine still favours the slap of Old Spice, as he has done since I met him at University 30 years ago. I have no idea where he gets it, although I wouldn’t be surprised if he picked up a job lot in 1983 (when it was called New Spice ah ha ha ha) and is still working his way through it.
That stuff has a half-life of about 25 years and can only be removed by high pressure industrial cleansing, so a daily application has a cumulative effect that means that these days you can smell him before he enters a room, and for a long time after he leaves. It’s quite useful for finding him in the dark or in the crowd at a gig though.
Hawkfall says
Eerily enough, to back up Chiz’s point, the Old Spice web site proudly proclaims that “it will still be around, even in after nuclear fallout”.
http://www.oldspice.com/en/shop-products/fragrance
retropath2 says
Pouf juice, eh? Group of nancy boys and cissies talking about perfume. Whats wrong with sweat,piss jizz and blood as supplied on Convair CV=240s then?
Rob C says
Hawkfall says
Mamma mia.
Rob C says
Indeed – ‘She’s wearing tramp and everybody wants her’…
… apart from Melvyn.
mr.apollo says
was that the one that had the by-line “The perfume you wear says something about you”?
Black Type says
I’ve always loved ‘the great smell of Brut’ and still do. Back in the 70s I must have been given every permutation of the green stuff – Brut 33 Eau De Cologne (with the little metal tag draped over the bottle), Splash-On (of course), Deodorant and even the ‘Enry’s ‘Ammer soap-on-a-rope. A few years ago I casually mentioned that I liked the fragrance…and I’ve received it every Christmas since, without fail. Definitely not as intense as in the 33 days, but still so lovely to me, in an absolutely non-ironic way.
Sewer Robot says
A lot easier for the lady to “think of England” when you whiff like the captain of the team:
Beany says
I owe it all to JR. Essence of crude oil and musk. Guaranteed to set the pulses racing at the Oil Baron’s Ball.
Rob C says
A fine choice, Sri Beanyji.
Hawkfall says
That fragrance is a striking dark brown colour Beany. Do you have the Material Safety Data Sheet at hand?
Beany says
It’s empty now. Needs must when the whisky runs out and the punch needs a little kick.
Rob C says
As an aside salad, it would also be interesting to know what modern perfumery directions blog contributors lean in, would it not ?
If I may be so bold:
http://i1302.photobucket.com/albums/ag126/astralcat379/C%20amp%20E%20S_zpshnksj4wo.jpg
http://i1302.photobucket.com/albums/ag126/astralcat379/C%20amp%20E%20P_zpsmt6ar6yp.jpg
Dodger Lane says
I’d like to meet the evil sods behind Old Spice and Blue Stratos and somehow replay them in kind. The scent I recall with any fondness is 4711 eu de cologne which always seemed to come in little sachets, but the real scent of the seventies for me was Palmolive soap. It was the soap of choice on the overnight Wagon Lit trains and it took days to get rid of the smell. It never occurred to me just to arrive sweaty and dirty, it would have been less noxious than palmolive.
Great thread title.
Sniffity says
Yes, it’s scentsational.
niscum says
More of an eighties go-getter, though I do remember all of those brands mentioned well, as much as anything because you could get most of them in Woolworths in box-sets for less than a quid which made impressive looking Christmas gifts (until unwrapped).
For me Old Spice is the most memorable of that bunch, I even tried it myself years later but gave up pretty sharpish. I think it was a smell for the more sophisticated 70s gent who perhaps wore a thick sheep-skin coat, maybe wore driving gloves, and probably smoked 60 Embassy No1 a day.
I think a lot of those scents needed to be very loud to be noticed in the pubs and clubs of the time that were engulfed in a fug of tabacco smoke. I suspect the ad agency with the ‘Tabac’ brand had this in mind when they named it.
In the early 80s ‘Mandate’ went well with soul boy chic of my youth; wedge haircuts, brightly coloured loose knits and baggy jeans needed a less overtly masculine smell that the girls could relate to. A bit later on this migrated into ‘Kouros’ which came in the lovely white faux-marble bottle. A really strong fragrance with base notes as pungent as Old Spice but if worn with a ‘Wham!’ style tan and stubble and louche 80s confidence then for some reason a nailed on fanny magnet. Tbh, you probably needed a convertible, white VW Polo to really carry off the look.
As an aside, a few years back I was looking for a decent hair tonic as I hate gels and creams but wanted something to keep my mop in order, and stumbled on a spicy rum fragrance which was apparently big back in the 50s in certain aristo circles. As the name suggests it’s sort of cinnamon and rum blend, it smells lovely (like a Christmas pudding) and works a treat.
Hawkfall says
I think that’s a great point regarding the fug of the pubs and clubs. I think the smoking ban in pubs had two main consequences. Firstly, you could visit a pub without having your clothes stink of fags and secondly, you got a sneak preview of the pub clientele by looking at the smokers standing outside. Like one of those small detergent samples you get through the post.
ianess says
You’ve omitted the third consequence of the smoking ban – pubs now reek of the great smell of piss.
niscum says
There’s a pub I occasionally go to near Euston to watch certain ‘north of the border’ football matches that smells so bad it actually sticks to your clothes and hair for days. A certain kind of pub really needs special dispensation to allow punters to smoke inside the building just to hide the stench coming from the toilets, the walls and worst of all the velvet covered seats running along the side wall of the place.
Everything you touch there is coated with nicotine grease from years gone by.
People drinking 8 pints of lager in a session are going to get flatulent.
Johnny Concheroo says
I regularly fly between Perth and Sydney/Melbourne and the ambiance of the plane toilets invariably changes from a pleasant scented aroma on take-off to the sweet essence of a menagerie within a couple of hours of a five hour flight.
It’s also advisable not to visit the plane toilets in stockinged feet after a certain point in the journey (usually following meal service).
Vincent says
Wot, no patchouli? Doesn’t smell like weed, helps you to sniff out like-minded hippie types from 50 metres, and again Proustian (along with strawberry joss sticks, “rocky”, and gatefold sleeves) of a more optimistic and happy time. “Brut” and the rest was to cover-up the BO of thugs.
Rob C says
Ahem, Vincedude /\
Patcchouli AND Sandalwood Cologne, for the Gentleman Head.
Hawkfall says
I was too young for patchouli, Vincent, you’re showing your age man! I don’t think patchouli has been seen in the UK outside of Brighton since 1976.
Black Type says
Oi! Are you calling my Brut a puff?
Rob C says
HELLO ? Is anybody there ? Can anyone here me ?……
Vincent says
Sandalwood was OK, but lacked the uncompromising “cheese-cloth and loons” spirit of the Big P: my velvet dinner jacket was steeped in the stuff, and went down well at the early punk gigs i saw. “Ananda’s” in Brighton (my home town) provided much of this kind of thing, and I suspect (though Ananada’s is now gone, and I left Brighton as a resident 35 years ago) there are still corners where the fug of patchouli still remains.
Mike_H says
A Mitchum deodorant stick is my current scent preference.
The prevailing male scents of the early ’70s were still beer, BO and burnt baccy. Probably in reverse order.
It was only as the decade progressed that aftershave and deodorants made any inroads.
If you should chance to travel by tube these days in the evening rush hour, you’ll get almost as much garlic and onion odours as deodorant on the non-aircon lines. Stale booze is also still present in their olfactory pallette.
Carl says
I had Old Spice, given to me as an inevitable Xmas present.
I really didn’t like it. I found it irritated my eyes (no, I didn’t use it to irrigate them). The scent wafted up and caused it.
Brut wasn’t too bad,
Coincidentally, I noticed a female favourite from the 70’s in a shop just the other day – Charlie. I pointed it out to my wife, noting it had been a long, long time since I last seen it.
Hawkfall says
*slaps head in disbelief*
Charlie! Charlie!
Actually, I think I saw Charlie at the Mustafa Centre. Perhaps I should get some for Mrs Hawkfall. Hmm, on the other hand, maybe not.
JQW says
What, no Purple Punk Piss?
Well, at least I think it was called Purple Punk Piss, it could have been something else. It was this foul smelling stuff worn exclusively by male metal/hard rock fans in this part of the world in the late 1970s or early 1980s, and seemingly smeared all over a leather or denim jacket, usually with a hand painted logo on the back. Often to be smelt in the record departments of Woolworths and Boots.
Vulpes Vulpes says
Tsar. Like a nuclear explosion in a flowery soap factory. So bad it’s good. No one else seems to have ever encountered it.
Hawkfall says
Don’t know that one Foxy, was it by the same crowd that made Cossack hair spray?
H.P. Saucecraft says
What about Badedas? You didn’t even have to go out of the house, or get dressed. A capful in the bath got helicopters full of babes landing in your back garden. Made aftershave look pre-tty damn stupid.
Hawkfall says
We were too common for Badedas, H.P., it was Matey all the way for us I’m afraid. A product that was sold on its ability to remove deposited dirt from the bathtub. I believe sales plummeted in the 90s after EU regulations forced them to put the relevant chemical hazard symbols on the packaging.
H.P. Saucecraft says
Lawks! I never had a Badedas bath, either. They were high end, like After Eight mints, Perfectos cigarettes, Stella, and Asti Spumante. Our family brands were more Kraft Dairylea, Ski Yogurt, Hirondelle, and Dairy Milk.
Rob C says
Sobranie Cocktails.
Johnny Concheroo says
We were a Vesta curry kind and Camp coffee kind of family.
Rob C says
Blue Curacao and Cracker Barrel.
( This thread is turning into a Van song. Colin ?)
Hawkfall says
I’ll see your Blue Curacao and Cracker Barrel and raise you a Kestrel Lager and Noodle Doodles.
Rob C says
Space Dust and Blue Nun.
Hawkfall says
Goblin burgers and Sweetheart Stout.
Rob C says
Good parry, Sir !
Hawkfall says
Thanks Rob, I was hoping to keep the Goblin Burgers powder dry, but you blindside me with that Space Dust.
*chapeau*
H.P. Saucecraft says
I can remember the sudden upsurge in suburban sophistication that came with our first packet of Alpen.
Beany says
Perfick for those wot cud not spel mewsilee.
Rob C says
Port Fed Stilton and the Pocket Mastermind Oriental Chick. Huzzah !
Archie Valparaiso says
Ryvita – the nation’s favourite asbestos rusk.
H.P. Saucecraft says
Ryvita! And Tuc and Ritz crackers. Twiglets, but just for parties, when you wanted to push the boat out a bit.
minibreakfast says
And those little party snacks, tiny various-shaped sort of crackers, came in bags, tasted like cardboard, can’t remember the name. Delish!
chiz says
I’ve got TUCs to hand even as we speak! Look, here they are!
http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d125/botlblonds/IMG_5136.jpg
It says ‘Original’ on the pack which I guess means they were made in the 70s. Later versions are called Unite.
H.P. Saucecraft says
Chiz’s live-blogging snack update there!
Carl says
Space Dust!! That could certainly add a bit of fun to late-teen hanky-panky.
minibreakfast says
I still have an old bottle of Badedas for some reason. Doesn’t it claim to be made with horse chestnuts? Bathing in essence of conker strikes me as a bit weird.
Hawkfall says
It’s not that unusual Mini, there are quite a few fragrances and essential oils that are derived from animals reproductive glands and hang on, that’s not what you meant was it?
minibreakfast says
😀
Beany says
Things happen after a Badedas bath. In my late teens I worked as a trainee accountant at Cussons in Kersal Vale. Sounds a posh place but actually it’s in Salford, overlooking the River Irwell. It was the place where they made Imperial Leather soap, 1001 carpet shampoo and Baby Bird pastel-coloured talcum powder. They also marketed Badedas on behalf of the manufacturers. That meant we could buy the product in the staff shop for less than half retail price. We were practically swimming in the stuff in the Beany homestead.
As part of my training I worked in the marketing accounts section. The account manager for Badedas would often promote his wares in Mayfair magazine, thus ensuring we were sent a complimentary copy to check the paid advertisement was in order. It took some finding in the magazine though.
H.P. Saucecraft says
“It took some finding in the magazine though.” On account of the pages being stuck together?
Black Celebration says
I thought the family that bathed with Imperial Leather in their own individual baths in the same room were damn weird. I seem to recall a butler as well, who presented the soap to them on a cushion or something. Bloody weirdos.
Beany says
The pilot in this ad is called Simon, as a reference to the MD at the time, Simon Cussons. When the company was sold to Paterson Zochonis in the mid-seventies he became a director of Man City and a Tory bigwig. The butler may have been called Hugh in one advert. He would have been director Hugh Goodwin, Simon Cusson’s cousin. Drove a sports car with the number plate UK 1001.
Joanna Lumley advertised their products in her days as a model.
Black Celebration says
I have a horrible feeling that you did not look up any of that info.
I am similarly afflicted sometimes. I forget really important stuff on which my very livelihood depends – but have a veritable crapopedia in the brain when it comes to TV and pop music.
H.P. Saucecraft says
“Crapopedia” – what they should have called the Afterword.
Beany says
I loved working at Cussons but left to seek my fame and fortune at Leeds Poly as a student. I can remember tons of trivia from those days but always forget what I went upstairs for.
Walking through the department that mixed the perfumes for soaps and scents meant holding my breath entering and only exhaling when outside. Otherwise the stench of concentrated pongs would knock me senseless. Going into the talc mixing room put me in a fit of sneezing. Everything and everyone was white inside there.
Clive says
My mates dad designed the soap with its iconic (and practical) label.
Noboru Wataya says
This may be wandering off-piste slightly, but there was a flesh-coloured cream which you painted onto your spots, thereby camouflaging them while the active ingredients went to work. Actually I say ‘camouflaging’, but I really mean ‘drawing attention to them’.
Hawkfall says
I tried that once and it gave me a rash. Also, I think it could only be called flesh-coloured if you were a member of Kraftwerk.
Uncle Mick says
something oderm… dried your skin out in a shade of camel, not attractive.
davebigpicture says
I’ve never been one for aftershave etc but in the early 80s, a lot of people I knew wore Aramis which is still on sale today. My wife gave me a bottle of something expensive and smelly not long after we met and threw it away about 10 years later because I hardly ever used it.
Steerpike says
Or Arab’spiss as it was controversially known. A cousin of mine was a big user. A ride in his car with Luther Vandross on the stereo and hair would spontaneously sprout from one’s chest.
Black Celebration says
Here are some TV ads from the 70s. The opener is a Scandanavian-themed aftershave called Sven!
But wait…is that David Bowie singing about Ritz crackers at 1.02 in?
GCU Grey Area says
Vim. A cleaning powder, which came in a cardboard tube. Sprinkle onto the surface to be cleaned, then rub using a damp cloth. Rinse. Huge hit of ammonia when the damp cloth hit the powder and so abrasive, that you could feel your fingerprints being removed before even grasping the container. See also Flash floor cleaner.
Gee’s Linctus. A cough liquid, which smelled of pure creosote. And probably was. Doled out if we so much as coughed once, often diluted with hot water. I’m retching even now.
I have vague memories of other horrors, kept under the kitchen sink. Boots and the Co-op chemists in the town used to sell loads of old fashioned remedies, which were put into your own bottles.
Archie Valparaiso says
Schools that smelled of Jeyes Fluid failing to fully mask the stench of milk vomit.
GCU Grey Area says
Yes, that.
Milk vomit brought on by being forced to drink one of those little quarter pint bottles, which had been left out in the sun (or had frozen) in front of the school.
I was eventually excused milk, after one hurl too many. The only negative point about primary school. Wasn’t it? Marvellous.
Archie Valparaiso says
I never understood why Thatcher was so roundly criticised for what was possibly any politician’s most humanitarian act.
Johnny Concheroo says
A pedant writes. They were one third of a pint
GCU Grey Area says
No wonder I hurled.
Johnny Concheroo says
My wife had the same problem at school and still can’t drink milk to this day.
It was rice pudding skin that did it for me.
GCU Grey Area says
I only drink it in tea and coffee.
Rice pudding skin? Somewhat burned and crunchy? Nom, nom, nom.
H.P. Saucecraft says
I loved that bottle of milk. The tuough kids used to neck them back in one, followed by a hearty belch.
niscum says
The softies used to be allowed to add strawberry nesquick.
Damn teacher’s pets. They suffered for it at playtime though but.
H.P. Saucecraft says
NESQUICK! STRAWBERRY NESQUICK!
Great poured over the original Capn’ Crunch (the best cereal ever made).
Rob C says
Milkshake made by Beelzebub Incorporated.
http://www.corp-research.org/nestle
Just sayin’. As you were.