• 12.15.09

Step Aside, Britney! Today I Will Smell Like Edmond Roudnitska

You wouldn’t buy a book without knowing its author. Why wear a perfume without knowing its designer? A new store in New York now reveals the noses behind the names.


Snicker all you want, but Britney Spears–famous for losing her kids after going clubbing without benefit of underwear–is the indisputable Grand Dame of perfume sales, having sold 30 million bottles since she first launched “Curious” back in 2004.


Not to be outdone, a week or two ago, 50 Cent was seen hawking his own fragrance, “Power by 50,” at Macy’s in Manhattan. And why not? The potential for a big seller (Britney’s “Midnight Fantasy” had sales of $100M in its first year) can be a lucrative hedge when a new album tanks. Not surprisingly, given the money at stake, the designers who create those fragrances are rock stars in the industry.

But I bet you couldn’t name even one.

Edmond roudniska
marcel roucel

While they’re geniuses at concocting scents in response to a brief, most of these designers, called “noses,” labor in obscurity, like Andy Warhol creating windows for Bonwit Teller.

And therein, thought Frederic Malle, grandson of Serge Heftler, founder of Dior Perfumes, lay an opportunity. Malle, the nephew of film director Louis Malle and a perfumer in his own right, wondered what they might do if they could create something for themselves.

So, ten years ago, he invited them to do just that.

“I took the best noses in the industry and told them I’d give them carte blanche to do what they wanted,” Malle says, strolling down Madison Avenue one night in late November. The perfumers were excited. “I signed nine of them in a year,” he says.

Frederic Malle

In 2000, Malle opened his first shop in Paris to feature the scents created by his stable of noses. It quickly became a favorite destination for clients like Catherine Deneuve and the city’s most stylish women. “I once went to a party where I counted at least 14 women who were wearing my fragrances,” Malle says.


Just in time for the Christmas rush, Malle opened his first free-standing shop in the U.S. (top). The space, formerly a small doctor’s office in an Art Deco building on Madison Avenue, was designed by French architect Patrick Naggar. It resembles a library, with perfumes in starkly simple bottles, each identified by its author, in a refrigerated case. And it includes three of his trademark “smelling columns,” phone-booth-sized enclosures that resemble the Orgasmatrons in Woody Allen’s “Sleeper,” that let customers sniff how a perfume would smell if they were following an especially fragrant woman on the street.

musc ravageur

Malle, who worked with many of these noses at the perfume labs of Roure Bertrand Dupont, works with his designers to manipulate molecules to create a fragrance with a unique signature. “I’m a nose coach,” he says, confessing that after working in the industry for 10 years, he is still a better critic than creator. “My job is similar to a publisher. I look after my authors. For some, I rewrite half the book. For others, I don’t change a comma.”

Even though the fragrance industry has been slammed in the downturn, Malle isn’t worried. “Most of what you pay in conventional perfumes is for marketing, advertising and distribution,” he says. He doesn’t have those costs. Most of the money’s in the molecules. And as a result, “The ingredients we put in the bottles are 10 to 20 times superior to the competition,” Malle says.

Indeed, his strategy against knock-offs is very simple: Use at least one very pricey molecule in each fragrance that pirates can’t duplicate. “Difficult times are an opportunity. It’s a time when people are really editing what they want. It’s not a bad time for us. It’s a bad time for cheaters,” Malle says.

About the author

Linda Tischler writes about the intersection of design and business for Fast Company.