The last time I attended a fragrance fair was in 2016 – the Pitti Fragranze in Florence. After just one day, I experienced massive olfactory overload, sneezing fits, and headaches. But most of all: terrible grumpiness. The reason? Even after several attempts, I hadn't managed to get a look at the novelties from the brands I carried in my store at the time. The exhibition booths were swarming with influencers, while Monsieur le Parfumeur was primarily busy fulfilling countless requests for group selfies. My conclusion back then: the not inconsiderable costs for flights and hotels could be more sensibly invested in a short vacation, and new launches would reach me even without attending the fair.
Two weeks ago, after almost ten years of abstinence, I was back at a fair: the TFWA World Exhibition & Conference in Cannes, to be precise. Originally conceived as an event for the global travel retail industry – commonly known as duty-free shops – the TFWA has evolved in recent years into an international meeting point for the luxury perfume industry, including some unique features.
In Cannes, people don't meet in exhibition halls, but for individual appointments with the brands or their representatives. Either in the suites of luxury hotels along the Croisette, in rented apartments, on a yacht converted into a showroom, or over a café au lait in one of the countless bistros. And in the evening, you attend one of the many parties or cocktail receptions – provided you're lucky enough to receive an invitation. So far, so exclusive.
The kick-off on the first evening was tailor-made: a party for the launch of Jovoy's latest fragrance, "Ha Long Bay." The dress code: "All White." The location: an exclusive beach club on the Croisette. For me, after landing in Nice, this meant a change of clothes and makeup in the airport restroom (sounds worse than it actually was), then a 45-minute "all white" taxi ride to Cannes with my suitcase and bags. Strict entry control at the entrance, but there I was (with my unmistakable rolling suitcase) amidst an illustrious company of well-known industry figures. After thankfully being able to deposit my suitcase, I received an original Vietnamese straw hat and a photo in front of the obligatory sponsor wall – champagne and a hint of film festival glamour included.
In other words: I was part of a perfectly choreographed social game. In the spirit of Tom Wolfe, a kind of "Bonfire of the Vanities" of the perfume world: everyone wanted to be there and no one wanted to be overlooked. Status, belonging, and self-staging were so intertwined that one guarded one's invitation like a trophy and the schedule of the coming days like a mantra. No question: here, the industry celebrated itself and its most prominent figures... primarily themselves. I found it as fascinating as it was slightly bizarre. It was certainly exciting and worth seeing – not least because of a sensational fireworks display launched from a boat in the bay. The new Jovoy fragrance was only a side note; it was casually received in the goodie bag upon departure.
And so it continued for the next two days: between lounges, luxury suites, and rooftop terraces, there was less smelling and more performing. Brands polished their aura, and the omnipresent influencers reflected in their glow. Conversations sounded like business, but were mostly relationship marketing. And while everyone basked in their mutual significance, the actual occasion of the meeting – the perfume – surprisingly often ended up as decoration in a display or was sometimes presented so soullessly as if it were a financial product. Conversations followed a scattergun approach: friendly, but without any briefing and without knowing who had actually been invited. For me, such scenes say more about the state of the industry than any press release. In Cannes, you encounter a new fragrance elite with brands that consider themselves luxury avant-garde, and influencers who want to belong so badly that it's hard to tell who is courting whom. While some seek reach, others want relevance. Both are too often confused with significance.
Amidst all the hustle and bustle and the overflowing days, one thing struck me above all: a lot of wanting, and sometimes surprisingly little craftsmanship and professionalism. The line between fandom and commitment is blurred. Many so-called influencers are simply collectors with cameras who love perfume but question nothing. On the other hand, there are brands that confuse attention with appreciation and prefer to distribute goodie bags rather than seize the opportunity for genuine relationships.
Yet, there are the famous exceptions to the rule. Sometimes a door opens, and you find yourself in another world. For example, when the founder of L'Objet, Elad Yifrach, talks about his creative vision and doesn't think at all about reach and mass appeal. Instead, he calmly and focused explains why a fragrance is more than an accessory, and reveals that he puts the same precision into the conception of his fragrances as he does into the creation of his design objects. The meeting with Thomas de Monaco was similar: no clamor, no name-dropping, no effects. A conversation at eye level and the presentation of a brand that is thought out to the smallest detail. There it is, the professionalism that so many talk about and so few know what it feels like. No show-off, no "networking" – just honest commitment and attitude.
Suddenly, there's something so rare: dialogue, interest, and concentration. Qualities that are hardly found in the algorithm of the attention economy because they don't generate reach. Yet, that's exactly what the basis of a serious fragrance culture would be: mutual respect, preparation, knowledge.
If you ask me, the real problem of the industry is not the omnipresent narcissism. That's human somewhere, sometimes even charming. It becomes problematic when vanity becomes a method – when everyone performs, but no one is present anymore. When the fragrance is just a pretext to be seen and to be important. When professionalism is replaced by posing.
I remember, for example, Céline Verleure, who in 2010 announced a project via her Facebook account "for a perfume that does not yet exist." That was not an influencer marketing trick at the time, but an experiment from which Olfactive Studio emerged – a brand that started with a dialogue in the perfume community. At a time when brands were fundamentally followed out of conviction and not out of calculation.
Perhaps true luxury today lies in authenticity – and not in a goodie bag. In conversations without ring lights, with people who listen and know that perfume was not invented to be filmed, but to be experienced. The question remains whether I will be there again next year. Why not. The weather was great, Cannes is beautiful, and I was really happy to meet some people I hadn't seen in a long time.
