Ever had a sniff of David Beckham, got downwind of Julia Roberts or been within an inch of Ricky Martin? Then you’ll know they smell good. Really good. And it’s all because of Olivier Creed. Alix Sharkey goes on the scent of the man who lets the stars come out smelling of roses – and violet leaves and ambergris.
Olivier Creed’s nose is not what you might expect. Here, I had been told, was a man blessed with an olfactory sense of Olympian quality. A “truly great nose” was how he had been described. Given this reputation I had braced myself for an encounter with a proboscis of equally grand and singular dimensions, something to rival Cyrano de Bergerac’s legendary protuberance.
And yet Monsieur Creed’s nose is, if anything, smaller than average, and rather inconspicuous. Apart, that is, from its unerring ability to sniff out the most elegant and individual concoctions from his continuous batch of tests, which then join the extraordinary range of Creed fragrances, as worn by celebrities and heads of state, the seriously wealthy and the chic, the cannier end of the fashion set, and the aesthetes of all social backgrounds.
Arriving in his Paris boutique, he retreats for a second to put on a royal-blue knitted tie, which picks out the colour of his blue-grey eyes. His face is pink and a little wind-burnt, perhaps as a result of his Alpine lifestyle; he lives in Lausanne, while retaining a second home just outside Paris. However, he is at pains to point out that he is very English, the bearer of a heavily thumbed British passport, which accompanies him on his regular trips abroad. There’s certainly something Anglo-eccentric about his manner; while impeccably polite he has none of the formal stuffiness typical of the wealthy Parisians, and talks freely about his new diet, his health, his passion for dressage, his two children.
However, he’s not very keen on discussing his celebrity clients. Which is remarkable, given that they include Pierce Brosnan, George Clooney, Richard Gere, Robert Redford and Robbie Williams, all big fans of his Green Irish Tweed (sandalwood, ambergris, violet leaves, verveine and iris). Naturally, where there’s an exclusivity angle you’d expect to find Madonna, and indeed she wears Fleurissimo, a floral scent based on Indian tuberose and Bulgarian rose, which was originally created for Grace Kelly and later adopted by Jackie Kennedy.
And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Pick practically any of the 48 Creed fragrances and you can find at least one star or historical figure linked to it: Bois du Portugal is worn by Paul Newman and Kevin Costner and was favoured by Frank Sinatra; Erolfa is David Beckham’s choice, while Royal Water is his wife’s; Julia Roberts wears Spring Flower; Silver Mountain Water is worn by David Bowie and Ricky Martin; Tâbarome was created for Winston Churchill, while the oldest Creed fragrance, Royal English Leather, was made for King George III and inherited, with the crown, by George IV.
Of course, celebrities don’t buy Creed fragrances because other celebrities wear them. The house has attained the holy grail of marketing – the product sells itself. Devotees, most converted by word of mouth or a chance encounter with one of the scents, flock to boutiques in London, Paris and New York regardless of (because of?) the fact that Creed never advertises.
But being favoured by the cognoscenti is a symptom of Creed’s success, not its cause. The perfumes sell because their complexity, finesse and depth make mass-marketed fragrances seem harsh, clumsy or inanely simplistic. “You can tell a Creed perfume immediately,” says James Craven, manager of Belgravia perfumery Les Senteurs. “They are all very different, there’s still a house style, a hallmark, if you like. You instantly recognise the richness, the colour palette, the depth and roundness – and they all have a slight eccentricity.”
Olivier Creed says there is no secret to this “hallmark”. It is the direct result of his manufacturing process, which is probably unique. Put simply, he travels the world in search of the finest raw materials. He then uses them according to his personal alchemy, to produce the purest and most concentrated fragrances available – and to hell with the cost: which is why they start at around £79.50 for a 75ml flask.
Of course, the vital part of this process is the ability to devise new fragrances with unusual characteristics, and this is where his nasal prowess comes into play. Creed is now widely regarded as the world’s greatest living “nose”, capable of identifying the ingredients in any fragrance, and distinguishing, for example, different types of rose by scent alone.
Creed dismisses the idea that he inherited his “nose” with the rest of his genes. “How to become a nose? You have to study the scientific and artistic sides of perfumery. It’s like composing music. You’re trying to create something evocative, something that stimulates on an aesthetic sense, using chords and dissonance, harmony and counterpoint.”
While anybody can train to be a nose, says Creed, not anybody can conjure up sublime fragrances, as his £10m turnover proves. And even if there were another independent family-owned perfume manufacturer enjoying such success (and there isn’t), it would be unlikely to boast such a proud tradition (the Creed dynasty was founded by the English saddle-maker James Henry Creed as long ago as 1760, but it was with Olivier Creed, the current director and sixth-generation descendent of James Henry, that the firm blossomed into the concern it is today).
Of course, says Creed, the major fashion houses constantly offer to buy his business, but he has always felt that if his son wanted to continue it, he would pass it on. After an early teenage rebellion, 23-year-old Erwin is now in training to succeed his father and become the seventh-generation director of Creed. The fact that he looks not unlike a young Jean Paul Belmondo will hardly hinder the company’s prospects. Indeed, the omens for the future are good. Himalaya, the first new men’s fragrance for three years, has just been launched to general acclaim.
But be warned. Should you find a Creed perfume you like, you risk developing an expensive habit that will probably last a lifetime. Such is the power and subtle tenacity of Creed fragrances: once they enter your bloodstream – and if you use them long enough they will – you keep coming back for more. And when you’re hooked, nothing else will ever suffice. Believe me, I’ve learnt the hard way.
From The Independent on Sunday – The Sunday Review 23rd March 2003