The glory that was Dior

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The last truly great fragrances Dior produced were Hypnotic Poison in 1998 and J’Adore a year later, composed respectively by Annick Ménardo and Calice Becker. Leaving aside their Collection Privée, to which I will dedicate a separate post, the next 100 or so were largely unmemorable flankers, leaving aside Dior Addict and Sauvage, about which the less said the better.

Of late when Dior tried a Big One, things got even more disappointing. In 2018 Dior bought Patou which had languished for years as a luxury brand within Procter and Gamble, which is like saying the aerospace branch of Cuisinart. At the time, this was a mystery move: would Dior succeed where P&G had failed despite the talent of Jean Michel Duriez? Nope. They bought it just because they wanted to own the name Joy.

Let me quote what I wrote at the time: “I cannot think of a more craven overdraft on karma in the history of perfumery. There never was, and never will be another Joy. The very name evokes gold letters on a black glass bottle with a coral-red top as if by synesthesia. It was, is and —unless LVMH does the unthinkable and kills it— always will be the greatest floral bouquet ever. I once visited the production line, saw the enormous steel (or was it silver? the contents would warrant it) barrel with a tap and a riveted curved brass plate that said JOY engraved on it, as if there might be another one somewhere labeled SORROW. Now we have to grit our teeth and listen to François Demachy pontificate about how "[he] was fortunate to know its name from the beginning. And what a name! Short, and lively yet not affected, it is open to all possibilities"

Dior, of course, did the unthinkable and killed it. To quote the reaction of Napoleon’s chief of police after he discovered the execution of the harmless 31-year old Duc d’Enghien, “It’s worse than a crime, Sire, it’s a blunder.” The drum labeled SORROW must now be in Dior’s production facility. Dior became the literal killJoy of perfumery, the firm which had the sacrilegious audacity to nix what was once the synonym of fine fragrance. I wonder whether Demachy knew that when he made those chirpy comments. If so, he should have known better than to add insult to injury. He knew French perfumery before it sold its soul. He was a perfumer at Chanel all his working life and played a part in all their compositions.

To think this was the company that produced the original Miss Dior, Diorama, Dioressence, Diorissimo, Diorella, all either discontinued or disfigured by reformulation. My mother met Christian Dior in the last years of his life and wore Diorama (1949), of which I still own a pristine ounce. These were all life-changing fragrances. Diorama was Edmond Roudnitska’s first masterpiece, Dioressence made Guy Robert famous, and Diorella was the most perfect embodiment of decadence this side of Caligula’s dinner parties. And now we’re stuck with the Midas touch that produced L’Or de J’adore: plenty of cash, but no sustenance.

For paid subscribers: reviews of the new Miss Dior Parfum, Miss Dior Blooming Bouquet and L’Or de J’adore.