'Pigeon' - short fiction (a work in progress).

He blinked hard as the drops splashed his glossy eye. The pharmacist had told him that he didn’t have an eye infection. The stinging sensation was probably nothing more than a symptom of dry or tried eyes. 

Waking up felt like a resurrection anyway, without the need for this new ritual. He imagined Dracula – from a camp 1950’s Hollywood horror - punching through a coffin lid, sitting up and scraping the grit from his face, and body before roaring with an open blood stained mouth. He huffed and laughed to himself a little too loudly. ‘Still here?’ His wife Jenny said. Oh God she’s awake.

‘I thought you had an 9 o’clock meeting?’

‘Yes, yes. I’m going.’

‘But you’re still in your pants.’

‘They’re boxers. Can you please call them boxers…’ He left the bedroom, tugging self-consciously on his Calvins. God, she would always do this. She would always say something that would get under his skin and really piss him off before he’d even had a decent chance at starting the day. ‘Argh!’ He growled as he accidentally knocked over a bunch of Jenny’s cosmetics on the sink.

‘Alright noisy. What are you doing in there?’

‘Your shit is just everywhere! Where’s my stuff supposed to go?’ He bent over the sink gritting his teeth and gripping his toothbrush in a white knuckled fist. Nothing more from the bedroom. He’d obviously upset her. He was being a prick and she was lovely just the way she was. He was just grouchy. And he didn’t love her any more.

As he gruffly looped his tie around his neck, he peered up at the ceiling and conjured up another image that was all too dark for a Monday morning. Life was not grim for Andrew.

He had a job he enjoyed and was married to a former model/actress /cabaret performer who wanted to father his children. Perfect. For someone else. The only part of his day he could stand, was work. His unnecessary menial morning and evening routine around the house depressed him, made him think about things that well-adjusted magazine editors shouldn’t be thinking about.

He hooked a dark green Wentworth brolley over his forearm and shouted up the stairs, ‘Jen I’m off-‘

‘No kiss-‘ she shouted back. Even her voice made his nerves jangle.

‘Late.’ He mumbled. He then decided to lie to her, ‘Oh I’m meeting with this guy from the MOD tonight….for drinks. He might have a lead.’ She was walking down the stairs now, her robe was open and her patchwork Agent Provateur twin set showed off her toned figure. ‘Another late night?’

‘Yes. I won’t be long. Just a couple of hours.’ He lunged forward touched her lightly on the small of her back as he pecked her, too quickly for her to reciprocate.

‘Hey!’ she pulled him close to her and wrapped her pale freckly arms around his neck. ‘I want a proper kiss.’ She kissed him long and hard on the mouth. He counted four big elephants in his head before he jerked his head away. ‘Really late.’

He yanked his rucksack on to his back before leaving the house. He stopped for a moment outside. It was raining, as he had suspected, and he felt nauseous for the second time that morning.

Andrew got off the train at Waterloo – having stood up in the carriage for the entire journey – and walked over to a seat to change his shoes and drink the last of his coffee. He suffered from horrendous bunions around his big toes and couldn’t stand the pinching of his smart shoes any longer than he had to.

He tugged off his orthotic trainers and grimaced as he pulled on his especially shiny pointed shoes. He daren’t wear trainers on the way to the office as he always saw at least five colleagues on the way. He didn’t want people to think he was a wimp, or worse, a pre-work gym bunny.

*********************************

He looked up sharply as he heard a bird take off in a hurry. A woman shrieked unnecessarily as it did, at least three metres away from her. ‘Little twit.’ He said out loud, almost hoping she could hear. He watched the pigeon fly off and settle on a metal bar in the rafters of the station. Poor bloody creature. Most of the time it’s ignored until it accidentally flies too close to a churlish mid 40’s divorcee, who is consequently repulsed by it.

Andrew had always been fond of birds and Pigeons happened to be his favourite. Pigeons had a bad rep, but he was inclined to think that they weren’t much different to any other feathered creature. Sure it looked a little rough around the edges and it probably wasn’t the cleanest winged specimen, but that’s why he liked them.

The choice he made when he was six years old – when his mother (who he severely disliked) swatted and clubbed a pigeon to death in their small kitchen in Somerset because it had ‘broken into the house’ - was almost a protest. Sure, Robins were friendly, chubby and more aesthetically pleasing, but pigeons were like mavericks. The odd ball’s choice. He picked up his trainers and squeezed them in to his rucksack.

He stopped at Neal’s coffee shop just before he got to the office. Starbuck’s and Costa were to be avoided. He had an amiable relationship with most guys in the office, but at this time in the morning conversation was unwarranted.

Before 10am, Andy’s brain was still digesting all those difficult thoughts and problems built up from a nightmare-filled sleep, and then worst still; actually waking up. All that bad noise in his head made him feel light-headed and queasy.

So an involuntary discussion with Kevin about his latest drug fuelled bonk with a stripper would not help the caffeine and jam glazed pastry go down. Going to Neal’s was one more act of self-preservation. It made his life that little bit more bearable.

‘Andy’ Oh God who the hell was that and why are they in MY fucking coffee spot. He turned his head timidly, bracing a forced smile in preparation for this regrettable morning chat.

‘Oh, Si.’ It was only Simon Hiles, the mag’s Creative Art Director.

A decent chap that Andy wished he could call a ‘mate’, but didn’t. In fact it had been Simon that had suggested this coffee haunt when he’d complained that Starbuck’s was overcrowded with arse-licking employees with desperate hopes of promotion. But he hadn’t seen Si in here for weeks now.

‘Where have you been getting your coffee from of late?’ Andy was surprised by his own sprightly tone.

‘Oh, I’ve given it up… Caffeine. It was giving me heart problems.’

‘Oh shit. What do you do for kicks now then?’ They both sort of smirked at the half-joke Andy had made.

‘Well I’m still on the medicinal heroin and crystal meth, so I think I’ll be alright.’ They laughed more enthusiastically this time.

‘So why are you in here then? Oh god you’ve not gone decaf or worse... herbal?’

‘Oh it’s not for me, I’m just getting one for Mike… my partner.’ Si motioned to a table in the corner of the café, where a young man was reading the newspaper and removing his jacket.

‘Oh…’ Shit. This is awkward. Andy knew Si was gay. Everyone in the office was aware of it. But as much as Si had tried to get everyone else to be comfortable with it, they weren’t…

Andy gripped the brolley in his left hand tighter and tighter as he forced himself to raise his right hand in a sort of embarrassed wave in Mike’s direction. Then he realised it looked like an apology, so he made the effort to bend his fingers downwards in one jittery motion. Now he'd made a 'Coo-eee' gesture. He guessed that Mike would assume that Andy was another homophobic arsehole from the magazine.

‘So I guess I’ll see you back in the office in a little while.’

‘Mmmm.’ Was all Andy could muster as he gulped down a foamy cappuccino in order to stop himself from saying something inadvertently offensive.

He waved a little more convincingly this time as he sailed out of the door and into the downpour which he’d momentarily forgot about. Fat droplets splashed into his uncapped coffee and he stood there looking up into the grizzly sky and enjoyed an indulgent moment of self-loathing.

That was one of his Andy's other hobbies; apart from habitually lying to his wife and drinking too much coffee, he got some sort of sick pleasure from abusing his own psyche. It was a purification process which reminded him that just because he was the editor of well-established publication and was well respected (feared) by his peers and his wife, he was still as flawed, if not more so than, any other human being.

*************************************

He was the last person in the office and he was looking at his monitor in contempt. The new fonts were bothering him. He'd insisted that his decision was final in a heated debate with his Picture Editor, Dominic, but now he wasn't sure.

And the more he continued to scrutinise them, the more they irritated him, blurred and danced up and down, jeering at him and his inability to make a decision without second guessing himself. His eyes were beginning to sting again. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger into his eye sockets in a circular motion, trying to generate some sort of lubrication, or dull himself into a trance.

'Ah...tough decision to make eh? The cerulean or the indigo for the strapline? I've really been looking at the layout again and...' what Dominic said next was lost on Andy. Dominic jabbered on about this colour code and that, but Andy let his eyes wander around the room.

Simon was packing up now. He was on the phone and wrestling with a usb cable with the other hand. He was smiling. Really smiling. Andy began to notice how straight his teeth were; bizarrely straight in fact. Had he had work done? He was a poof after all. But he'd never considered Si to be camp. Not in the tight net vest, glow sticks and boasting about sex at the gym, camp. Why was he smiling so hard? Must have been on the phone to his 'partner.'

Andy had been averting Dom's peepers for a moment too long because Dominic was now out of his chair and wafting his hand in front of Andy's face like a petulant child. Andy was almost convinced his picture editor had ADHD.

'Jeez Andy. You should go home mate. You're looking pretty haggard these days. Go home and bang your wife for Christ's sake.' Haggard? Really? People thought he looked haggard. Balls. What was wrong with the good old 'shagged' 'shattered' or 'knackered'?

Andy decided to ignore the rather inappropriate comment about 'banging his wife' and chanced a look at himself in the office window, which doubled up as a mirror, now that the steets of London were dark and glittering with shop window lights. He opened his mouth wide and grinned. Bloody hell, he's spot on. I look craggier than Gordon bloody Ramsey. He didn't appreciate his sallow skin or the crooked teeth either.

'I need to get out of this place. I'm ageing by the minute.' Dominic was already half way out of the door and didn't bother to acknowledge Andy's comment.

As Andy shuffled out of the office, trying his best not to wince from the pain in his bunions - he'd left his trainers under his desk - he thought he might grab a drink to snaffle on the train ride home... Something to take the edge off seeing his devastatingly beautiful wife and knowing she expected a good seeing to. He stopped at a Threshers on the way to the station.

'Sir. I'll have one... Bottle of vodka.'

'Yes sir... Any particular brand?' the shop assisant peeked over the counter, almost indecipherably, at Andy's glossy shoes and thought he was on to a winner.

'Errrr...Oh just the cheap stuff over there will do.' He wagged his finger at a clear bottle covered with an orange label and some foreign words Andy could not translate. He could afford better, but he wanted it to feel dirty, really naughty.

'Ten pounds for the Polish stuff. But you know, the Russian is probably better-'

'That'll be all'. He handed the man one of six notes in his wallet and swiped his booty from the nice middle aged man.

He didn't wait for the ride home to get a taste of the mind numbing substance. Once he was outside the shop, ignoring the lash of the wind and rain, he wrapped the plastic Threshers' bag tightly around the bottle, unscrewed the lid and felt the liquid burn his cracked lips, warm his throat and tingle in his stomach. That's when he realised he was supposed to be eating out - having lied to his wife about meeting the guy from the MOD - she wouldn't be cooking for him tonight.

His stomach gurgled. The greasy kebab shop was calling. He dived into Hal's kebab hut and picked up a mixed doner and a side of chips.

As he approached the station, It didn't even occur to him what he looked like. His tie hung loose on his chest, his shirt untucked, as he stumbled on to the train. He slumped himself across three seats on the practically empty train and popped open the squeaky yellow polystyrene box.

The train wasn't leaving for another fifteen minutes. He slipped the fatty meat and dry chips into his gob inbetween swigs of his vodka. The bottle was half empty and he was drunk. He belched loud and unashamed.

More people were entering the train. It was a mixed batch. It wasn't that late so he wasn't surprised to see lovesick teenagers, families holding show programmes, as well as an elderly couple holding each other's hands. And then he saw Simon Hiles.

'Andy... Is that a Hal's Kebab special?' Si and his partner stood unblinking, waiting for an answer. Holy shit...this is humiliating.

*********************************

 

Andy's colleague and his kooky looking boyfriend were uncomfortable. It was one of those moments when you wish you could just rip your own face off, turn it inside out and replace it with an altogether different face that no one knows or recognises. It would be called the 'reversible face' and it would save you from untold embarrassment and agonising chit chat with ghastly people you wish you weren't associated with.

This particular conversation lasted no longer than two stops, but it was excruciating. It was awkward, mindless spaff that concluded with Si's boyfriend stating the bloody obvious, 'Well it's nice to meet you Andy... you're gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow dude.' Dude? How old was this guy. He was wearing skinny jeans and a Ramones T-shirt. What a tool.

Si and his hippy toy boy sat two seats in front. Far enough to distinguish themselves from an unsavoury character such as himself, but not so far that he should be offended.

They talked about the raw prawn appetizers, the expensive merlot and Jenny 'the slutty marketing girl' falling out of her bra. Andy began to feel desperately sad again. His achy head pulsed and as he looked down at the empty bottle of mainstream poison held fast in his hand, he despaired.

He couldn't bear their contentment. It wasn't happiness, just a bit of peace and satisfaction to round out a meaningful day. Andy had totally forgotten what that felt like.

Just when he thought he couldn't stand to feel this way for a minute longer he became suddenly overwhelmed by something quite distressing. It became clear that he was going to be sick.

As the train pulled up to the next stop, he threw the remains of his kebab off his lap, grappled with his umbrella and suitcase and scrambled to the carriage doors. As they opened he bent over double and released the entire contents of his stomach on to the platform... and on to someone's small dog.

'Oh sweet Jesus. I'm so bloody sorry.' The owner looked like she might have an aneurysm. She was a wizen thing wearing a long shapeless dress with tiny parrots all over it, and a knotted woolly cardigan. The dog shook violently and rolled over and over again. It seemed to be disgusted by the smell.

The poor old lady, who kind of looked familiar, just picked up her dog and pulled herself up on to the train. As Andy wiped his mouth and began walking away, he heard that sweet little lady call him a prick. Wow.

He walked home. He felt like he didn't even deserve a taxi right now. He eventually made it to the street in Clapham where he lived. He scuffed his smart shoes on the wet pavement and deliberately stood on snails to hear the crunch.

He felt the urge to swing around a lamp post and kick his heels up to his bottom. Then he abruptly stopped. It was a headless pigeon that did it. He felt his stomach flip again. It was right in his path obstructing his next footfall. The culprit was no doubt a well-fed fox. Nasty flame-haired demons.

He could imagine it now, chewing on the dead bird's sinews and licking the blood off it's sharp tiny teeth. But it was only the head that was of use to the mangy scavenger; the body wasn't worth guzzling or taking back to the den. Andy bent down and tried to focus on the bird.

He even picked it up to see it clearer, but the alcohol had made his fingers numb and his eyes completely useless. He thought the animal would feel gritty, unclean and damp, but it was soft and still warm.

It was only three feet to the gate at the front of his house, but it took him about fifteen minutes to make it to the front door. He was being careful not to drop the bird which he cradled in his left hand, leaving his right hand to struggle with the brolley and briefcase.

In retrospect he realised how insane he looked. Days later he would mull over this extremely blurred portion of the day and desperately try to rationalise his properly absurd behaviour. Part of his brain - a place so insipid and frankly terrifying - thought he might know what possessed him to bring a decapitated bird into his house, the remainder, hadn't the foggiest.

He wondered then, why it was always the worst part of his personality which revealed itself every time he got through a whole bottle of cheap vodka.

It was that mindless, anti-social idiot which also forgot that his wife would be loading the dish washer at this precise moment. The first thing he did after he stumbled up the large paving slab which served as a door-step, was dump the seemingly unimportant items in his right hand, at the front door.

The second was to take the bloody offering still clamped in his left hand, into the kitchen 'to get it cleaned up'. He found a towel resting on the radiator as he made his way through his house, swaying from side to side, nudging his shoulders on the door frames. He placed the bird on the dining table and wrapped it up in the towel.

'Andy? What the hell are you doing?' she said.

*******************************

This seemed like an incredulous statement. Surely it should be obvious to his wife what he was doing. Andy looked down at his hand and the offending item and nearly threw up...again.

“Oh god. What is that?” he whispered putting a hand to his mouth, without realising it was moist with the bird’s blood.

“Andy, are you pissed?”

“Of course not. Just had a couple with Mike after work.”

“Mike? I thought you were meeting with that army general or whoever he was? Or is that bullshit too?” She fired at him. Her stance was intimidating. She was holding a hand towel with both hands held taught across her thighs. It was if she was getting ready to wind it up and whip him with one moist end of it if he didn't answer correctly.

“Why are you so angry all the time?” He could feel that he was swaying and flinging his arms about without any assertion or control.

“That’s totally unfair Andy. I am NOT angry all the time. Just right now...and this morning...and last night when you told me you didn’t want sex because you were feeling fluish or some crap. And now you come home doused in god knows what...wait...is that vomit?”

He considered the question. Looked down at the various splodges of partially digested food and stomach bile decorating his shirt and continued.

“Yes, I believe it is. So now I’m not allowed to drink, is that right?” The smell of the pigeon carcass reminded him of the kebab he’d previously guzzled. He rubbed the dead bird’s blood between his fingers and inwardly questioned his sanity.

“You are ridiculous and I can’t live like this anymore" she continued.

“Oh come on. Stop exaggerating Jen. For God’s sake, I’m drunk and I missed dinner. Get it together.” That was a mistake, one that he instantly regretted. The towel in her hands snapped tighter and her eyes grew wide as a bush baby's.

“Our life together could have really gone somewhere, but now I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t live with you like this. Not in my condition.” She was breathing short and sharp through her nose, trying to stem her inevitable tears.

“What the hell are you talking about? You’re not making any sense-"

“I’m pregnant you arsehole!”

Andy physically wretched. He didn’t mean to at all. It just happened. It must have been an acid reflux brought on by this extremely distressing news. He composed himself.

“I beg your pardon.” He said. He was back to slurring his words again. It was like his brain and his mouth were numb from the vodka intermingled with the thin blood spurting through his arteries.

“I’m pregnant.” She was far less angry with her delivery this time. She looked down at her hands which were gently tugging at the towel now. She was winding it round her fingers, like a nervous child. She was wearing her baggy pyjama bottoms and thin camisole which revealed her undulating chest, heaving and dipping under her agitated breaths. She started to cry.

One hand came up to stop the tears, but it was no good. They had already begun to wet her nose and cheeks.

Andy was horrified. In that moment, he had a brief spell of clarity. He knew he really didn’t love Jenny, but now he was realising that she knew it too. How could he support and love a child with a woman he couldn't share a bed with? What the hell was he supposed to do?

“Jen...I’m sorry. I’m so so bloody sorry. We’ll be fine. My mistake.”

“No Andy. You don’t love me.” Did he say that loud? No he didn’t. She just knew him too well.

“It’s not going to work. I’ll arrange to move in with Alex for a bit.”

“She’s just had a kid herself Jen.”

“Well then she’ll understand.”

She left the kitchen dragging her feet, shoulders collapsed and hunched forward. She had capitulated right in front of him. It had been terrible for Andy to witness. She was always so bright and boisterous, and if he was honest, rarely angry.

To see her so dejected crippled him. It didn’t matter that he didn’t love her. He cared for her with all of his heart, but that was a completely useless feeling and one which Jen should never and could never be satisfied with.

*******************

The whole headless pigeon thing had really freaked Jenny out. He could have assumed this by registering her expression the night before, when he had laid it before her in the darkened kitchen like a sacrificial offering.

But he knew for sure that she thought he had 'lost it', when he overheard her talking to her sister, Alex, on the phone at 6am. She was trying to mumble, but the walls of the bathroom were so thin, he could hear enough to get the jist.

“He’s....and....but really it’s completely nuts...not right now...it’s none of my business...I can’t ask him that.” This is where Andy became more intrigued. Ask him what? Probably something like; how could he be so despicable? Is he an alcoholic? Is he planning on supporting the baby? Is he insane?

No, it wasn’t any of these. The question that Jenny, prompted by her sister Alex, wanted the answer to was one far more surprising than he would ever imagine...

**********************

He would never have guessed it, but yes...his sister-in-law believed him to be gay. "He can't be gay...he would never have asked me to marry him if he had been gay...of course he would have known back then!"

To be honest, when he actually stopped to think about it, there was more than enough evidence to corroborate his sister-in-law's argument. He had recently whipped himself into a jealous rage over Si's happy relationship and he often made excuses to avoid sleeping with his own beautiful wife.

And his wife was stunning. Sometimes he felt like she was too good looking for him. They were unmatched. But this wasn't always the case, he was sure of it. In his mid-twenties (before the metro-sexual years) it all kind of worked.

His face had thinned out after puberty, revealing an envious bone structure and pleasing thick dark brown hair that he could actually run his fingers through. He carried enormous confidence in his tall, strong frame, daring to curl purse his lips into a smirk at a pretty girl on the bus or in the café where he used to work.

Back then, perhaps there was something to look at and stop young girls in their tracks, but now he'd be lucky to win a answering smile from the female editorial assistant at work; and she was supposedly begging for a full-time writing position. If she wasn't willing to pay him attention than who the hell would?

Oh yes...his gorgeous wife.

Suddenly it felt like a pneumatic drill was threatening entry to his skull through the temple, which in turn referred pain to every nerve in his body. If a marriage on the rocks, unwanted unborn child and a dead bird festering on the dining room table wasn't enough to contend with, he had a savage hangover. 

He had at least managed to make it into bed upstairs this time - unlike three weeks ago when he'd poleaxed on the stairs, dragging the door mat with him as some sort of blanket...

Lady Gaga unleashes her darkest creation

Coty Beauty anticipates strong sales of Lady Gaga Fame after the global pop star pulled off a show-stopping global fragrance launch that caused a media frenzy, in New York. Charlotte Smith reports. 

On a mild September night, launch party guests - including Lindsay Lohan, Marc Jacobs, Paris Hilton and Yoko Ono - paraded the black carpet bathed in the light from a hundred flashbulbs, outside the Guggenheim museum, whilst Lady Gaga readied herself behind the scenes for a truly unforgettable show. 

But it seemed that all the anticipation and excitement leading up the event may have worn the poor girl out, as she spent a large portion of the evening stretched out on a plush sofa, in a larger-than-life replica of the Lady Gaga Fame fragrance flacon, supposedly ‘asleep’. 

Gaga’s performance art piece appropriately titled ‘Sleeping with Gaga’, took place after an introduction by close friend and ad campaign director, Steven Klein. Klein spoke of his close partnership with Gaga before playing a short film they made together especially for the fragrance launch.

During her ‘nap’, attendees - in masquerade attire as stipulated by the strict dress code - were given the chance to actually make contact with the motionless star, hold her hand and even stroke her hair through a circular flap in the flacon’s casing.

Later on, the singer finally stirred and began to prepare herself – sitting in front of a mirror, opening a bottle of champagne, swigging from a bottle of Patrón, and taking a tablet of some description – for her exit from ‘the egg’ and a short tour of the balcony above the main floor.

 After about 15 minutes, she returned to the art installation to have the back of her neck tattooed whilst half-dressed. In case the audience could not see directly inside the flacon, Gaga was considerate enough to stream every moment live on to a giant projector screen hung from the wall. It was an unusual way to spend an evening…

For those who aren’t glued to the celebrity gossip columns or music television, Lady Gaga Fame is the singer’s debut fragrance launched through Haus Laboratories – Gaga’s own perfume label in Paris - in collaboration with Coty Beauty.

But this is no ordinary celebrity fragrance launch for the global fragrance powerhouse that is Coty. 

“Early on, Lady Gaga asked us to create a ‘black opaque fragrance, which becomes clear when sprayed’,” says Steve Mormoris, SVP of Global Marketing, Coty Beauty.

“We didn’t think it was possible, since it had never been done before, but Coty’s R&D team became obsessed with the idea. 

“Most fine perfumes are clear. It made sense that this artist, who challenges our perception of beauty, would have a perfume on the opposite end of the spectrum. After months and months of research our R&D team finally found the formula to create a black juice.”

[Left: Paris Hilton]

The patent pending fluid technology exclusive to Gaga’s black-to-clear fragrance is a first for the industry.

But it’s not just the colour, which Coty deems ‘unique’. As previously reported the juice has a rare olfactory structure. “Traditionally, perfumes have a pyramidal structure - a hierarchy of sorts with top, middle and base notes,” says Coty Beauty.

“This fragrance, on the other hand, has a unique structure called the ‘push-pull technology’, where the ingredients interact together to highlight different olfactive aspects of each note at the same time, without any hierarchy.”

The scent is built around three main accords: dark, sensual and light. The dark accord was inspired by Belladonna, the deadly nightshade possessed by haunted beauties since the 18th century.

“From this darkness, the fragrance evolves to a sensual accord of opulence, a fusion of dripping honey, saffron and apricot nectar,” says Coty Beauty. “The light accord whispers magnificence.”

The romantic liturgy continues: “The rich floral layer of crushed Tiger Orchid & Jasmine Sambac embodies timeless beauty. The accords work together to create a fragrance of floral and fruity elements, with the star ingredient inspired by Belladonna leveling out the whole fragrance and giving Lady Gaga Fame its signature as a scent."

But the process of creating Fame, was not the least bit straightforward. Gaga had her own set of ideas for the scent that were rather unpalatable to her business partner, Coty. In what could be judged as a ploy to harness the media spotlight, it was revealed that Lady Gaga wanted her new fragrance to smell like the combination of blood and semen. 

But, Haus Laboratories and Coty Beauty thankfully managed to steer the star in a more sensible direction. Coty later clarified that the scent would not smell like blood or semen, but that elements in the fragrance shared a similar molecular structure. 

“So when the project started a year ago, as you all heard she wanted it to smell like sperm and blood…it was something very out there and when we started working on this project it was quite difficult,” said Fame perfumer, Honorine Blanc.

But then the trio of perfumers, Richard Herpin, Nathalie Lorson and Honorine Blanc (who were responsible for the final result), stumbled upon a new idea. “We wanted to capture the odour of this berry called Belladonna, which is a very poisonous berry that also was used for beauty in small quantities. We realised that it really captured the essence of Lady Gaga and she loved the idea.”

Once the juice was perfected, an official press release was sent out to the travel retail press and stated that Gaga’s first fragrance, is the “latest breakthrough expression of her creativity”. 

The multi-platinum and Grammy Award-winning artist Lady Gaga is famous for her desire to engender creativity in her impressive band of followers, which she endearingly refers to as her ‘little monsters’.

Since the singer exploded on to the music scene in 2008 she continues to shock and amaze both her fans and critics; the rebellious fashion muse with a quasi-religious philosophy reminds us of another legendary pop queen famous for her anti-establishment views; Gaga’s arch rival [and secret role model – Ed], Madonna. 

The two powerhouses have both launched fragrances with Coty this year; The Business asked Markus Stauss, how the two ladies felt, belonging to the ‘same team.’

“They have completely different concepts; one likes black, one likes white [Madonna chose a white bottle for her Truth or Dare fragrance launched with Coty earlier this year – Ed], and they have completely different consumers.” 

Justine Kennedy WDFG Category Buyer for Fragrance also attended the launch in New York and gave The Business a prediction on the new scent’s success in travel retail. “I think Lady Gaga Fame is going to receive a lot of attention in travel retail…[however] there is always an air of caution concerning celebrity fragrances because our strategy is around premiumistation and we pride ourselves on our premium brands, showcasing them as much as we can so the celebrity section is small, in comparison.”

Although Gaga has a loyal global fanbase – over 53 million fans on Facebook - the controversial figure has her own fair share of critics. It is no surprise, then, that Kennedy believes that taking the fragrance on is "a bit of a gamble"; and one that she believes will pay off after witnessing just a small fraction of the hype surrounding the fragrance in New York.

 She welcomes the attention that the fragrance will undoubtedly receive in travel retail, if not only for passengers' sheer curiosity.

Markus Stauss Managing Director for Travel Retail and Export Worldwide feels that the black colour of the juice will intrigue travellers and encourage shoppers to spray the perfume if only to witness the "magic" of the new technology. 

[Left: Yoko Uno]

“By releasing a patented black-to-clear fragrance people are already wanting to spray it, to see how it works. That’s brilliant because it puts the fragrance in their hands straight away.”

Kennedy expects that the initial surge in sales, will drop off in the following months, “as is the case with most celebrity fragrances. 

“It’s a very fast moving sector and you have to be right on the pulse,” says Kennedy. “If you’re going to launch a celebrity fragrance you do it right on the day, right when the media’s hitting and there’s a hype about it.”

Stauss assures The Business that the Fame fragrance is going to be "pretty much" in every travel retail location where Coty is already present.

“It’s already doing well in Japan where people are queuing up to buy the fragrance,” he says. “We always knew the fragrance would attract a lot of attention from Asia and we’re very excited to have Lady Gaga in our portfolio.”

Coty pre-launched Lady Gaga Fame in all worldwide prestige doors and e-commerce in August. “Distribution expansion to Tier 2 will begin in February/March 2013 in most global markets,” says Renato Semerari, President, Coty Beauty.

“The US will cascade in July 2013. In addition to the US distribution, it will be in about 2,000 department and specialty store doors, including Macy's - Lady Gaga Fame will be available in Canada and Latin America.”

Global distribution will include Europe, the Middle East, the Far East and Australia. Lady Gaga Fame will be supported by the visual campaign created by Steven Klein. 

The print and TV creative will appear in magazines and displays in-store all over the world this Fall. Lady Gaga will make numerous in-store personal appearances during the global roll-out of Fame; including Macy's New York and Sephora Paris in September.

It was ten years ago when Coty took steps to reinvent the celebrity fragrance business. With 17 fragrances generating over $1 billion US dollars, Coty continues to top the charts with new celebrity fragrance lines such as Lady Gaga and Madonna.

[Right: Lady Gaga Fame fragrance flacon]

“Lady Gaga joins a legendary cast of talent for whom Coty has created scents, including Beyoncé, Jennifer Lopez and Halle Berry, all of whom have flourished under the company's extraordinary entrepreneurial commitment to culture, branding and execution,” says Bernd Beetz, Chief Executive Office, Coty Inc.

“Lady Gaga is one of the most influential celebrities and powerful musicians today,” says Semerari for Coty Beauty. “Known for her larger than life persona, Lady Gaga's fragrance will be a seamless extension of her combined talent for music, video, fashion and art.”

I think Semerari is spot on, when he says, “Lady Gaga's is a subject of fascination. A force like no other.”

In what can only be described as exalting praise Semerari explains why Coty Beauty was so eager to ink the deal with the singer: “Lady Gaga is explosive, provocative and sexy, three traits, which pave the way for an extraordinary fragrance experience for our consumers. On top of being an accomplished and true artist, she is the voice of her generation.”

Pricelist

The RRP for Lady Gaga Fame in 30 ml is $42; $55 for the 50 ml. Ancillary products include: 100 ml Ultimate Masterpiece: $79; Black Shower Gel 200ml: (on counter in the US November 2012) $25; Black Body Lotion 200 ml: $TK (on counter in the US November 2012) $30; Black Soap 142 g: $TK (on counter in US August Limited distribution) $15; Roller ball 10 ml: $19

Tom Pecheux and Estée Lauder preview new Pure Color Collections

Yesterday I was invited to Paris to meet Tom Pecheux Creative Makeup Director for Estée Lauder, to discuss his unique relationship with the beauty company and witness the unveiling of four new Color collections including his first full range of nail lacquers.

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Pecheux was brought on board by ELC just three years ago as Creative Makeup Director and designer of the Pure Color collections. Since joining the beauty company he has vowed to bring his unique fashion point of view to a brand, which has previously been a favourite of mothers and grandmothers who still identify it with its founder; the ultimate American business magnate and high society lady, Estée Lauder.

I arrived at a chic Paris apartment yesterday morning – the venue for the preview and interview – soaking up the rays on a beautiful balcony overlooking the river with a perfect view of the Eiffel tower.

[Above: Tom Pecheux, Estée Lauder Creative Makeup Director and Charlotte Smith trbusiness.com Editor]

It was apt that Lauder chose the stunning location to showcase the four new makeup collections - that will be rolling out into domestic and travel retail markets over the next six months – as Pecheux revealed that Paris had been the inspiration for the nail colours he had created.

PURE COLOR NAIL COLLECTION

But before I cosied up to Pecheux on one of the pristine white sofas, the Pure Color Nail collection was presented to a select group of beauty journalists. “Even though Estée Lauder is an American company, we have always had very strong relationship with Paris,” began one of the Estée lauder Representatives.

One of the principle launches for Estée Lauder’s next season Pure Color collections, is nail polish. “The first nail polish bottle was introduced in 2000; it was designed in Paris…when we looked at upgrading the nail collection everybody wanted to change the bottle, but Leonard Lauder [son of Lauder founders-Ed] said ‘absolutely not, this is an iconic bottle’,” she continued. The inside of the bottle has been shaped to make the liquid inside, look like a drop of nail polish, which clings to the end of the brush just before you apply it to the nail.

The select group was then shown the motion editorial for the Pure Color nail collection, which features Tom and French-born EL spokesmodel, Constance Jablonski, galavanting around Paris on a cold December night. The conceptual piece offered the audience an explanation for the nail colour assortment.

“I mean as you know, nail is the big trend,” said Pecheux. “I originally came up with 50 nail lacquers.” But he soon realized that it would be unfeasible to create such a huge collection all at once.

'FASHION POINT OF VIEW'

Pecheux reduced the size of the collection, preferring to keep the unique colours with a ‘fashion point of view’. “My job is to bring a true fashion point of view with respect to every type of woman in the world. I wanted to bring my knowledge of the fashion industry and influence from the fashion shows on which I work, to this collection. I use fashion and makeup trends to inspire me.”

In then end Lauder and Pecheux decided upon ten colours to start with, following with the next thirty, forty colours in the next six months. “Some will be limited editions, some will disappear, but we have high hopes for this nail collection,” added Pecheux.

Under the Creative Makeup Director’s orders, Lauder has departed from the typical reds and pinks of the past, opting for a lot of ‘trendy’ dark nail lacquers; some with refined glittery finishes, ‘in vogue’ with high fashion models stomping major catwalk shows all over the world.

The ten-piece collection is split into two collections; Paris by day and Paris by night aka; Beyond Black and Metal Mania.

INTRIGUING SHADES

“This dramatic palette of intriguing shades, textures and finishes expresses confident style and attitude with unprecedented colour and impact,” says ELC.

“When creating this collection I wanted to capture the intensity and naughty side of Paris when it truly comes alive…at night, said Pecheux.

“Beyond Black is defined by five deep shades that saturate nails in rich and dramatic color, capturing the allure of the Parisian Femme Fatale,” says Lauder.

“Metal Mania dresses nails in glam glitters for a modern metallic finish, enticing women to experiment, with daring effect.”

VIOLET UNDERGROUND

Pecheux then moves on to ‘one of his favourite collections’, Violet Underground, which comprises a Five Color EyeShadow Palette, a Quick-Thick EyeLiner in Punker Black, Velvet Lipstick in Black Cassis and Violet Crush; Color Gloss in Chaotic Currant and Rebellious Violet and a Nail Lacquer in Black Iris.

[Above: Violet Underground Collection]

“This collection is centred around a colour which I think suits everyone. I think the quality of the matte lipstick is unique…it’s long-lasting and feels luxurious and it doesn’t dry out the lips.”

One of the new exciting products in the Violet Underground collection is what Pecheux endearingly refers to as ‘my Sharpie’. Pecheux believes that this is one of the many new products that will appeal to consumers that don’t usually shop with Estée Lauder.

“The look you can create with the Sharpie does remind you of Hollywood glamour, but it can also be used to create punk or rock looks, which are not usually associated with Lauder.”

CREATIVE DIFFERENCES

Pecheux is very open and frank about his difference in opinion with Lauder and talks journalists through the process he went through when coming up with the visuals for the Violet Underground campaign.

“With this beautiful visual of Constance – it’s very cosmetic, it’s very make-up you can sell make-up products and a beautiful woman very effectively with this image, however I think makeup should always be linked with a woman’s lifestyle and her personality and it should be a bit more about her character and not just about her beautiful makeup.

[Above: Constance Jablonski modelling Violet Underground]

“[To this effect] I created a different image.” Pecheux holds up another visual of an Asian model wearing a blonde wig looking suitably chic and aloof. An image, that wouldn’t be out of place in beauty editorial spread for Vogue.

“I wanted to capture a girl going out to Studio 54, a girl going on the runway; I think this image is more fun and conveys more about the girl’s lifestyle and less about her pretty makeup.”

VIVID SHINE

Pecheux says that discussions over the visuals went back and forth, but eventually it was decided that the original close-up cosmetic-focused image of Constance Jablonski would be the dominant visual used to promote the new colour collections. “50% of people at the Estée Lauder [head office] were very enthusiastic about the image and fell in love with it. But the other half were not convinced.”

[Above: The visual which Pecheux created for Violet Underground]

[Left: Estée Lauder Vivid Shine eyeshadow teal]

Pecheux will also release a Vivid shine collection, consisting of 20 Pure Color Gelée Powder Eyeshadows with satin finish, a selection of nail colours and 20 lipsticks.

“16 of these are very wearable lipstick shades and the other four are what I call ‘transfer lipsticks’.” The idea of these lip colours; in gold, silver, grey and white, is that when they are applied over the top of one any of the other shades it can transform the original colour.

“These 16 then become adaptable to your mood or the occasion at which you’re wearing them. This is something we do for the runways all the time to create a unique ‘couture colour’. We used foundation, concealer or pencils to change the various shades we had.”

PURE COLOR BLUSH COLLECTION

Lauder and Pecheux has also revamped the Color Blush collection which Pecheux described as ‘old and dusty’. “I have introdue some very bright colours here, because I need tones I can use on dark skin as well as light. If you put one of the more subtle shades on Joanne [Puerto Rican spokesmodel, Joan Smalls-Ed], it’s going to look like highlighter so we needed blush with powerful pigment.”

[Left: Estée Lauder Pure Color Blush]

Pecheux talks about the women which inspire him:

“I don’t like weak women. I like strong women; they can be wonderful mothers and wives and businesswomen and have a strong point of view and that’s who I like to create makeup for. It wasn’t my duty to think about creating makeup for a specific woman it’s about creating makeup for every woman with a fashion point of view.

“I think the new collections can do more than answer any woman’s desire. I don’t want to answer desire, I want to create desire and you don’t have to, but I think it is better if you have an open mind.

I asked Pecheux whether his mission to bring a fashion-forward point of view to a classic beauty brand has always been easy to implement in the three years since he started working for Lauder.

MISSION POSSIBLE

“My mission to start with is to have product that I can use. I’ve been with Estée Lauder for almost three years now, but I’ve been in make-up for 25 years, so I’m certainly not going to create a product that I cannot use. It started off with me being very selfish and making products for me.

“Yes I do work in fashion and yes I do believe that that is the reason why Estée Lauder came knocking at my door and said ‘can we work together.’

When I asked whether Pecheux had encountered any friction between himself and ELC with respect to his unique fashion point of you in the last few years, his response remained positive, but honest.

“So far our relationship has been amazing and ELC is a huge and successful company. When success is there and numbers are positive, certain people are scared to move forward. I don’t want to put off all of the grandmothers that use Estée Lauder makeup, but I also need products that I can use for myself.

“My ego is very pleased when a 20 year old girl tells me that she likes my product and I am also pleased when her grandmother tells me the same.”

[A full length interview will appear inside the Beauty Report coming soon from the June issue of the Travel Retail Business]

Beyond the Call of Duty

Video games are the marmite of technology. Those that love them can’t get enough and those who hate them can’t get the ones they love, off them.

Gaming has evolved. Gone are simpler days of Ping Pong and Pacman when small dots evoked yelps of ectasy and gasps of anguish at the arcade. Now games aren’t so much about achieving a super-duper astronomical, record score, but they have been developed to have a totally submersive effect. These modern console games allow the gamer to fall deep into a virtual world and suspend all of their concrete beliefs such as 'humans cannot fly' and 'humans cannot be respawned'.

But what happens when instead of providing fantasy worlds or alternative planets – such as in Zelda, Mario, World of Warcraft etc – developers such as Treyarch, begin manipulating realistic scenarios; things that could actually happen? The answer; Call Of Duty (or COD). The seventh and latest game from the hit franchise, COD Black Ops, is a first-person shooter during the conflict of the Cold War. Within 24 hours of going on sale, the game sold more than 7 million copies, 5.6 million in the U.S. and 1.4 million in the U.K., breaking the record set by its predecessor Modern Warfare 2.

Now, depending on the reader of this blog, I won’t bore you/titillate you with the game's synopsis or pontificate on details of the various firearms that a gamer carries (apparently two different firearms can be held at one time.) My questions for discussion are:

a) Is COD detrimental to social interaction?

b) Is COD melting brain cells and breeding sociopaths?

Let’s look at the benefits that game playing provides.

COD, when played online, is as much about social interaction with other real-life humans as it is blowing up the Russians. When I observe my boyfriend playing COD, I see genuine expressions of sheer joy as well as hilarity. Players do actually laugh an enormous amount whilst hurling grenades and flying apaches. It’s a blast (pun-intended) apparently. There’s also team-work, cohesion with total strangers, organization, and tremendous concentration involved. And although the plot is fictional, at least it’s built around concrete historical facts.

However, when the game drops off the internet and players return to their solitary and silent virtual world (otherwise known as single-player mode), the whole exercise becomes more difficult for friends, partners and family members to comprehend. Social interaction is cut off, laughing becomes a distant memory and the glazed/comatose expression (occasionally interrupted by a jerking of the mouth or a twitch of the brow) replaces the once joyful and animated one. This is where the benefits of computer games are harder to detect. This is when gaming becomes addictive.

Addiction to gaming can be as detrimental to mental and social well-being as one to drugs or alcohol. Although the effects are not physically severe, they are lasting and difficult to counteract. Popular documentary series Panorama, focused on gaming addicts for one of its programmes at the end of 2010. They were speaking to gamers who had dropped out of school or university just to sit around on their arses for 21 hours a day, while the games console replaced reality with an unhealthy dose of escapism.

Escapism – in proportionate doses – is not dangerous and is in fact a healthy exercise that can be as important as cardio vascular. But it’s when the escape turns into a permanent exile from reality that gamers drop of the reservation, so to speak. And it’s not just when the game is switched on that there is a problem. For most gamers the brain still processes battle scenarios long after the console is switched off. For hours, gamers can replay exploding heads, twitching bodies on the edge of death, or transport themselves into the boots of a foot soldier looking through the sight on a sniper’s gun. Prolonged exposure to games affects sleep patterns and concentration on even the simplest task. The brain becomes preoccupied and distracted and as a result habits and mannerisms begin to change. Some gamers can even adopt anti-social behaviour.

Cuba has condemned the release of COD Black Ops (not a surprise there). The Cubadebate website said the game "encourages sociopathic attitudes of American children and adolescents, the main consumers of these virtual games". Evidence which suggests that COD Black Ops encourages the entire gaming population to commit acts of violence, is unfounded. Computer games with violent content are as dangerous to mentally stable individuals as criminal dramas, epic war films or even news bulletins. But, put a person with a personality disorder or a penchant for petty crime in front of a shoot-em-up for 21 hours a day and one morning they might wake up and want to pick up a real gun.

However, thankfully the majority of gamers are just tech mad. COD provides a scenario where (excuse the cheesy sentiment) every player can become a hero. It is escapism at its best. Gamers are part of a team that can never reject them or prevent them for joining in because of the way they dress, the language they speak or their gender. Perhaps online gaming even promotes global social cohesion and acceptance...maybe I went too far.

What I do know is that in order for games to have positive effects, the balance between game playing and engaging in activities outside of the Xbox, PS3, Wii etc, is essential. Playing on COD for more than a couple of hours a day is heading into dangerous territory. Not just for the social and mental wellbeing of the gamer, but also for his/her partner, who, if they're anything like me, need a break from repetitive phrases such as ‘We’ve got the bomb’ or ‘capture the [friggin’] flag’ or whatever it is! It’s a case of SOS for girlfriends/boyfriends worldwide; save our sanity (for just a few hours a day)...please?

Over and out.

For more info surf here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/panorama/2010/12/computer_games_-_a_hard_habit.html

Or here

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Call_of_Duty:_Black_Ops