Why Are Blue Perfumes So... Blue? ~ 1001 Past Tales - Fragrantica

There is no mistaking of the power of blue as a color choice. Poised between the complementary colors of green and violet in the visible light spectrum, its influence around us is spectacular. The sea, the sky, and several objects around us, from blue jeans to blue lenses, recall the intensity of attraction that blue exerts over us. The history of the color use itself is fascinating, essential in art and decoration since ancient times. How did it all begin?

The semi-precious stone lapis lazuli was used in ancient Egypt for jewelry and ornament and later, to make the pigment ultramarine, the most expensive of all pigments. In the eighth century, Chinese artists used cobalt blue to color fine blue and white porcelain. In the Middle Ages, European artists used it in the windows of cathedrals. Europeans wore clothing colored with the vegetable dye woad until it was replaced by the finer indigo from America. Blue pigments were originally made from minerals, including cobalt and azurite, while blue dyes were made from plants; usually woad in Europe, and Indigofera tinctoria, or "true indigo," in Asia and Africa. In the 19th century, synthetic blue dyes and pigments gradually replaced organic dyes and mineral pigments. The deeply saturated blue of Yves Klein’s artwork, "striking and memorable," is in fact a blue of great intensity made primarily with ultramarine.

And blue has been an important facet of commercial, mass-market fragrances at least since the introduction of Blue Stratos for men and the memorable Soir de Paris in that particularly striking deep blue bottle. Although Guerlain theoretically had it down pat with the seminal L'Heure Bleue, it was only the name, referencing impressionist paintings that Jacques Guerlain adored, not the presentation that implied blueness. The scent is perceived as wistful to this day, probably also due to the association of "being blue" with melancholy in the English-speaking world.

The story of Je Reviens by Worth, a classic floral aldehydic bouquet that has been worn since 1932, is also relevant to our discussion, this time the bottle reprising blue and gold in an interplay of nostalgic remembrance and luxury.

The "blue bottle" series of perfumes by French house Histoires de Perfumes is a sort of ironic admission of a double entendre. Clearly, the bottles of the series are indeed blue, but their naming references a historical painting by surrealist artist René Magritte, "The Treachery of Images." The thing you see is not the thing you see. This line could summarise the entire perfume industry and our topic in question. Do "blue fragrances" smell... blue?

René Magritte, “The Treachery of Images” 1929, oil on canvas, 60.33 cm x 81.12 cm (23.75 inches x 31.94 inches) Los Angeles County Museum, California, USA.

From the treachery of images, we can go straight ahead to the relative value of direct invocation. What do you envision when you think about the sea? Exactly, the color blue! Blue begs to be associated with the sea, and the sea was the great unknown for decades in modern perfumery, its scent elusive and far-fetched. Not to mention that, culturally, recently urbanized populations were not very keen to smell of the sea. It was only after the Big City became a sort of work prison that the smell of the sea became a "thing" culturally-wise. And so the olfactory search began.

The 19th-century Japanese woodblock artist Hokusai used Prussian blue, a synthetic color imported from Europe, in his wave paintings, such as in The Great Wave off Kanagawa shown above. In it, blue plays the paramount role of impressing the power of the sea in our minds. How would such an image smell?

It's interesting to consider how blue, marine landscapes and boys (or men) became amalgamated into a singular product, the Big Blue Marine Fragrance for Men of the 1990s. It started with Cool Water (Davidoff) from 1988.

Blue is commonly used in the Western Hemisphere to symbolize boys, in contrast to pink used for girls. In the early 1900s, blue was the color for girls, since it had traditionally been the color of the Virgin Mary in Western Art, while pink was for boys (as it was akin to the color red, considered a masculine color), at least according to this source.

From the smashing commercial success of Cool Water on, blue came to represent a particular genre of fragrances for men, "marine fragrances," built on dihydromyrcenol and often Calone to evoke the vast expanse of the ocean. It helped build the concept of the modern fougere; super fresh, aquatic perfumes that share minimal commonalities with the classic fougeres from the time before it.

Pierre Bourdon blended a citrus-lavender starting accord with a huge percentage of Dihydromircenol (introduced by IFF in 1966), while the base relies on heaps of Ambroxan. Both materials first appeared in Azzaro Pour Homme in 1978, and made an unmentioned appearance in the classic Drakkar Noir. Cool Water also relied on Allyl Amyl Glycolate (introduced by IFF as early as 1936), a controversial note that recalls pineapple in the tin.

They were offered as "sports" fragrances, sometimes also as everyday fragrances, backed up by Helional (smelling like a sucked-up silver spoon) and lots of freshly laundered musks. A recent example of a contemporary sports/casual fragrance is Light Blue pour Homme. The interesting part is that the Italian duo Dolce & Gabbana first launched Light Blue for women. They already had a deep blue velvet box to encase their eponymous fragrance for men, but light blue insinuated a lighter, less dense, or butch quality that would fit women better. The scent became such a smashing success that a masculine counterpart would be required.

Italian brands, in particular, had a field day with blue in their portfolio of scents; just take a peek at Giorgio Armani's catalog. You'll be swamped in a tsunami of blue-colored bottles. Their first Acqua di Gio was the prototype for what was to follow, more diaphanous in presentation, however, than its antagonism.

One bottle in blue that was a huge commercial best-seller differs in that message: Le Male by Jean Paul Gaultier. The reference is nautical, with the blue torso referencing a sailor (a homosexual culture's wink), but the scent relies on a huge dosage of musk and coumarin that makes it fluffy, clean, and sweetish.

In the intervening years, with the advances in consumers' tastes and the rise and fall of the metrosexual, there was a seismic change in the perception of blue in fragrances. Indeed, even the shade of blue changed; it darkened.

Although unisex offerings from brands such as Annick Goutal implied dreamy scent scapes that would not directly inference the marine environment nor men in particular, such as Nuit Etoilee, one seminal launch by Chanel made that rift: Blue de Chanel, launched in 2010. Interestingly they used a name from 1940, a feminine scent that circulated during la période bizzare of Chanel's.

The advertising campaign for this one significantly differed.

The presentation was of an urban man, a man with a sophisticated veneer, a little scruff too, for good measure, and an all-around "return to traditional values," i.e., the fougere composition, the man "par excellence" trope of perfumery. Blue, especially in darker shades, stands also for formality, suits, and military attire. It confers dominance and power. Gravitas and seriousness. And the new generation of men reclaims their seriousness in a changing world where identity politics is causing confusion and a sort of embarrassment for the "old guard," so to speak.

There is a fascinating discord; on the one hand, the seriousness and dominance of dark blue as urban attire for a corporate business position, on the other, the appeal of a smooth face and a sophisticated outlook on the world, as befits Chanel. In the follow-up, Eau de Parfum version in 2014, the woody-aromatic composition created by Jacques Polge follows the original path but goes down into a sensual and warm amber territory. Wood maintains the freshness of the original in this variant, enriched with depth and velvet amber woods. Bleu de Chanel was a great new step for the brand, which, after so many years, had tried to revive its old signature Allure Homme, without much success.

Bleu de Chanel did not share older themes olfactorily, and it was a smart move that proved that heritage could become a handicap rather than an advantage.

The rest is history. Droves of fragrances followed in the same dark blue bottles.

A comparison of Hugo Dark Blue with other modern blue fragrance bottles, as my colleague Sergey writes, "brings up the question 'how far have blue fragrances evolved since the beginning of the 21st century?' For example, how about Bleu de Chanel or Pure XS Paco Rabanne? The fragrance character remains the same - they are woody aromatic fragrances with an oriental base; both fragrances combine the cool, fresh, citrusy top notes with hot, spicy and sweet base notes."

Other brands followed promptly, with Dior Sauvage being the most prominently advertised, but also Armani Acqua di Gio Profondo, Dylan Blue by Versace, Eros, also by Versace, and Diesel Sound of the Brave, even K by Dolce & Gabbana (if you want a very rough and rather low-quality sketch of the idea). Versace really did not have to look too far back since they had presented a lovely little fougere with the 1994 composition of Blue Jeans. It wasn't marine; in fact, I view it as the precursor of the current aromatic fougere; a bit butch, a bit tough guy, very stereotypically masculine, very much liked by the ladies.

Even Davidoff couldn't let this trend go and launched an even MORE intense version called (duh) Cool Water Intense. (You have been warned.)

There is intensely stereotypical imagery in these fragrance ads, all rippled muscles and predatory looks; they appeal more to a homosexual than a heterosexual aesthetic, I personally think (and you're free to disagree with me), which makes it more of a man's purchase for himself, emboldening and confidence-boosting, rather than a woman's purchase for her man. This also applied to the first ads referencing the marine fragrances of the 1990s. It's a man's world, as the song implies.

Sometimes, the imagery can even get a bit silly, implying more than one could casually master. (If you want serious kink, you might want to turn your sights into niche brands that accomplish this decently).

The thing is, blue fragrances come in the thousands. They're seemingly endless. The artistry, therefore, lies in choosing the right one for the right guy. Or just reveling in the allure of the Big Blue. It's no coincidence it became a pop culture theme.

Read and browse all our historical articles in 1001 Past Tales.