(Note: The following was published in the May 20, 1981, issue of the Hastings Tribune.)
They certainly don’t make perfume like they used to – thank heavens, or maybe I’m over the hill when it comes to perfumes.
Remember – I realize this is probably going to date me, but I can’t stay 39 forever – Evening in Paris?
With the possible exception of pizza supreme or tickets to see Robert Redford perspire, there is nothing in today’s world designed to impress the female species of the Fifties more than Evening in Paris.
I don’t remember the advertising gimmick the perfumer agency used, but it worked on every male under the age of 25 and every grandma over 68 who had lost their sense of small.
Evening in Paris was the perfume to make the big impression on any woman who was not stretched out in a casket with a lily in her hand.
I’ve yet to meet a woman who admits wearing it.
One gets blue thinking about Evening in Paris.
If anything was ever blue, it was this perfume — blue bottles, blue stoppers, blue boxes, blue boxes, blue puffs. blue satin, blue facings from breathing in too much blue fumes.
There are some of today’s fragrance lines that come in several products. For example, the consumer can buy a soap, cologne, perfume and even a candle all with the same fragrance.
But I don’t know of a fragrance on the market today that comes in 182 different products, all with the same scent.
One Valentine’s Day I received a great big heart-shaped box, not red or pink and filled with mouth-watering chocolates but blue and silver and filled with 36 diffenent items of Evening in Paris.
This scented box lined in blue satin contained various sized containers of perfume, cologne, toilet water, lipstick, bubble bath, deodorant, our fingernails, shampoo, foot power, toothpaste, mouth wash, ear drops and nose spray just to mention a few.
I thanked the guy for the gift, kissed him goodnight and told him my parents were being investigated by the McCarthy Committee and never saw him again.
The gift went into the corner of my bedroom closet tucked away under a stack of crinolines.
There it fermented for 30 years until one vacation when we visited my dad and our three pre-adolescent girls found it.