Valentino by Valentino debuted in 1977, during a time when designer fragrances were becoming powerful extensions of fashion houses. Though created by the esteemed fragrance firm Givaudan-Roure and introduced initially to the European market, the perfume's early trajectory was marred by business complications. Licensed to an Italian company that later declared bankruptcy, Valentino began to fade from view before it had the chance to reach American department store counters. Still, its significance lies in the story it tried to tell: an olfactory expression of the Valentino brand at a particular moment in fashion history.
The name “Valentino” is derived from Latin origins, through the Italian language, and is pronounced vah-len-TEE-noh. In layman’s terms, it's the Italian equivalent of the name Valentine—a name steeped in romantic and poetic associations. It conjures images of candlelit evenings, classic beauty, Italian elegance, and perhaps most of all, effortless sensuality. The name carries a strong emotional current: a blend of romance, luxury, and cinematic allure. In scent, “Valentino” might be imagined as poised and impeccably dressed—cool and polished, yet warm beneath the surface, like a silk scarf brushed with a lover’s perfume.
In 1977, the cultural backdrop was both sophisticated and transitional. This was the tail end of the disco era, a time when women’s fashion embraced fluid glamour, satin, halter dresses, and a newfound confidence in expressing both sensuality and independence. It was a period sometimes referred to as the “Golden Age of Designer Perfumes,” when fashion houses such as Yves Saint Laurent, Dior, and Givenchy expanded into perfumery, seeking to translate the aura of their clothing into fragrance form. Perfumes of the late '70s were varied—ranging from powerful chypres and aldehydic florals to green, crisp compositions. Valentino, with its citrusy, fruity top, cool floral heart, and mossy-floral base, fit neatly into the latter trend: clean, fresh, yet still feminine. It was not a revolutionary scent, but rather a stylish reflection of what women desired at the time—elegance with a natural, modern twist.
Women of the late '70s would have seen a perfume called Valentino as aspirational—something that hinted at jet-set glamour, Mediterranean getaways, and the refined femininity that the designer Valentino Garavani himself championed. Known simply as Valentino, he was already a household name in haute couture by the 1970s. Famous for dressing icons like Jacqueline Kennedy and Elizabeth Taylor, Valentino was synonymous with classic Italian sophistication. His designs were elegant, often romantic, and known for their luxurious fabrics and timeless silhouettes. Launching a fragrance was a logical and even expected extension of his brand—offering a more accessible piece of the Valentino dream to women who might not wear couture but still desired the essence of his world.
Adding a fragrance to his fashion line allowed Valentino to offer something lasting—something wearable daily, even intimately. Fashion changes with the season, but perfume clings to the skin and lingers in memory. In the context of the era, when designer-led fragrances were gaining popularity as tools for branding and emotional connection, Valentino the perfume served as both an olfactory calling card and an immersive experience. It whispered luxury, not shouted. And while its commercial fate was hampered, the scent itself captured a sliver of its time—cool, elegant, unmistakably European.
The Launch:
In 1978, Valentino by Valentino made its dazzling debut not just as a perfume, but as a grand cultural event that fused haute couture, classical music, and ballet with the world of luxury fragrance. Valentino Garavani, the celebrated Italian designer, sought to create a scent that reflected his signature style—sophisticated yet sensual, modern yet steeped in tradition. He envisioned a fragrance that blended fruit and flowers in a way that had never been done before. The result, after two years of meticulous development in France, was a perfume built around a unique and groundbreaking note: watermelon. According to Giancarlo Giammetti, Valentino’s longtime business partner and executive vice president, the concept was daring and unprecedented. “We have something that’s never been made before—a watermelon perfume,” he announced. In keeping with this imaginative spirit, the original concept even included a crystal flacon shaped like a slice of watermelon, merging playful modernity with elegant craftsmanship.
To celebrate its launch, the house of Valentino orchestrated an extraordinary gala held at the Paris Opera. This was no ordinary fragrance unveiling—it was a high-society spectacle. The stage was transformed with towering crystal trees and a whimsical watermelon patch. In an inspired blend of fashion and the arts, world-renowned danseur Mikhail Baryshnikov performed in La Dame de Pique (The Queen of Spades), a new ballet choreographed by Roland Petit to the music of Tchaikovsky. Valentino himself co-produced the event, highlighting his desire to align the fragrance with cultural refinement and artistic excellence. The evening drew a glittering crowd that included Paloma Picasso and Margaret Trudeau, and culminated in an invitational gala dinner at the iconic Maxim’s, followed by late-night revelry at the Palace, one of Paris’ most fashionable nightspots. The entire affair reportedly cost $300,000—an enormous sum at the time—underscoring the scale and ambition of the launch.
At the center of the promotional campaign was Princess Ira von Furstenberg, the glamorous European socialite and former actress who had recently taken on a more entrepreneurial role. She was not simply the face of the perfume, but also its champion and business strategist, having assumed the title of president of the company established to market the fragrance. “I will take an active part in the business of promoting new markets,” she emphasized, distancing herself from being perceived as just another perfume muse. Her aristocratic pedigree, cosmopolitan lifestyle, and command of international society made her the perfect emissary for Valentino’s brand of luxurious femininity. Ira was president of Valentino Perfumes International. "I'm not personifying the perfume as Miss Valentino, and I'm not posing for ads. It's strictly business," said Ira along with Italian tycoon Gaetano Trapani, who bought the perfume company.
Plans for the U.S. launch were set for spring 1979, with Princess Ira continuing to lead promotion into 1980. Her involvement lent credibility and continuity to the campaign, reinforcing Valentino’s vision of a fragrance that was as refined and worldly as the women who would wear it. The event, the scent, the bottle—even the ballet—reflected an idealized expression of elegance, imagination, and theatrical romance, making the debut of Valentino not just a commercial endeavor, but a celebration of beauty in its most multifaceted form.
Fragrance Composition:
So what does it smell like? Valentino by Valentino is classified as a crisp, fresh fruity floral fragrance for women. It begins with a citrusy fruity top, followed by a cool light floral heart, resting on a mossy, floral base.
- Top notes: Amalfi lemon oil, Calabrian bergamot oil, Sicilian neroli, Georgian peach, Spanish basil, green note, Chilean plum, watermelon
- Middle notes: Grasse jasmine, Grasse rose, French carnation, Alpine lily of the valley, grecian cyclamen, Dutch hyacinth
- Base notes: Virginian cedar, ambergris, Mysore sandalwood, Yugoslavian oakmoss, Tonkin musk, Abyssinian civet
Scent Profile:
The first breath of Valentino by Valentino unfolds like an early morning stroll through a sun-drenched Mediterranean orchard. The citrus opening is radiant and sharply refreshing—Amalfi lemon oil, cold-pressed from fruit grown along the steep, terraced cliffs of Italy's Amalfi Coast, greets the senses with piercing brightness. This particular lemon is prized not only for its high oil content but for its elegant balance of tartness and sweet zest. It’s quickly softened by Calabrian bergamot oil, harvested in the southern tip of Italy where the combination of limestone-rich soil and sea breeze produces the most nuanced, floral-leaning bergamot in the world. Its citrus sparkle carries a soft lavender-like sweetness, which links effortlessly to Sicilian neroli—obtained from the bitter orange tree. The neroli, steam-distilled from blossoms picked in the early morning, imparts a delicate green-white floralcy, tinged with honey and orange marmalade.
A juicy, sun-ripened Georgian peach enters next, velvety and almost creamy in texture—its note isn’t overly sweet, but mellow and supple. This peach, likely enhanced with lactones such as gamma-undecalactone, wraps the citrus in a soft, fuzzy warmth. Spanish basil, a touch of green and spicy, adds a breath of herbal vibrancy to counter the sweetness, while the “green note”—a synthetic accord evocative of crushed stems and newly-sliced cucumber—gives a dewy freshness, extending the illusion of cut greenery. Chilean plum lends depth: not the sticky, jammy plum of heavier orientals, but rather a soft, wine-dark fruit with a whisper of tannins. Then comes the most unusual element—the watermelon. This note, a watery sweetness with a crystalline, almost ozonic quality, is a clever balance of natural fruit and synthetic molecules like calone or melonal. These aroma chemicals were relatively new at the time, and when used delicately, they add a cool, marine-like fruitiness that enhances the watery, breezy character without tipping into artificiality.
The heart of Valentino blooms with a restrained elegance. Grasse jasmine and Grasse rose—both hailing from the perfume capital of southern France—form a luxurious floral duet. Jasmine from Grasse, typically harvested by hand before sunrise, carries a smoother, creamier scent than varieties grown elsewhere, with less indolic sharpness. Rose de Mai, also grown in Grasse, offers a soft, powdery pink glow, with nuances of honey and green leaves. French carnation adds a peppery, clove-like spice to the composition—its warm, slightly medicinal aroma acting as a bridge between the cool top and floral core. The Alpine lily of the valley, delicate and slightly metallic, evokes white bells in snowmelt, shimmering and pure. Cyclamen, with its pale green watery petals, is likely recreated via synthetics like hydroxycitronellal, contributing a dewy, spring-like coolness. Dutch hyacinth completes the bouquet—its waxy, green-floral sweetness hinting at tulip fields and crisp air.
As the scent begins to dry down, it settles into a base both earthy and elegant. Virginian cedar imparts a dry, pencil-shavings woodiness—clean, linear, and noble. Mysore sandalwood, sourced from now-scarce old-growth trees in India, lends a rich, creamy warmth that is woody yet sweet, with soft spicy undertones. This variety of sandalwood is revered for its depth and smoothness, unmatched by the more modern Australian or synthetic types. Ambergris, a precious material originating from the ocean and prized for its musky, slightly animalic warmth, lends a diffusive, lingering sensuality. Tonkin musk and Abyssinian civet, both animalic notes that were historically obtained from natural sources, add a whisper of skin-like warmth, civet being especially soft and creamy here, more suggestive than overtly animalic. Yugoslavian oakmoss closes the scent—earthy, damp, and green, it brings a classic chypre-like grounding with a touch of bitter moss. In modern compositions, oakmoss is often combined with synthetic materials like Evernyl to soften its rough edges, giving a vintage air with smooth modernity.
Altogether, Valentino is a fragrance that lives up to the grandeur of its name—elegant, refined, but with flashes of bold modernity. The interplay of radiant citrus, cool florals, watery fruits, and creamy, mossy woods creates a composition that feels as if one were stepping from a lush Mediterranean garden into a grand Parisian salon, arms filled with blossoms, skin still damp with dew.
Bottle:
The bottle for Valentino by Valentino was designed in 1978 by the legendary Pierre Dinand, one of the most prolific and influential perfume bottle designers of the 20th century. Known for his ability to translate a brand’s identity into a tangible form, Dinand gave Valentino a flacon that elegantly straddled both opulence and whimsy. The bottle itself is gently tapered, narrowing toward the top and base, and is vertically ribbed, lending it both a tactile quality and a sculptural sense of movement. These ribbed lines subtly echo the pleating of a couture gown, reinforcing the connection between Valentino’s fashion heritage and his foray into fragrance.
The gilded cap is particularly distinctive—rounded and lobed like a ripe melon, it reflects the perfume’s playful nod to fruit, particularly the unusual inclusion of watermelon in the fragrance’s composition. This cap adds a luxurious finish, its golden tone glinting against the glass and drawing the eye. It wasn’t merely decorative—it was a visual cue to the fragrance’s lush, garden-like spirit, full of fruit and floral notes. The design manages to be both classic and modern, much like Valentino’s own aesthetic, which celebrated timeless beauty with a contemporary flair.
Two of France’s most prestigious glassmakers were commissioned to manufacture the bottle: Pochet et du Courval and Saint-Gobain Desjonquères. Pochet, with its centuries-long legacy of crafting fine perfume bottles, brought exceptional clarity and finesse to the glass, while Saint-Gobain Desjonquères, known for its industrial precision and quality, ensured consistency across production. The result is a bottle that feels weighty, balanced, and luxurious in the hand—an object as thoughtfully designed as the fragrance it contains.
The original 1970s version is packaged in shades of taupe and cream. The parfum was available in three sizes: 0.25 oz, 0.5 oz and 1 oz, each has a taupe tassel hanging from the neck and is packaged inside of a cylindrical box. The 1 oz box has horizontal gold stripes, the 0.5 oz box has golden squares, and the 0.25 oz box has vertical gold stripes.
Also available were the Eau de Toilettes, some of their boxes have the golden squares and others have vertical gold stripes.
Fate of the Fragrance:
Launched in 1977, Valentino was envisioned as an olfactory expression of high fashion—a bold, elegant fragrance that captured the essence of the Valentino brand at a time when couture and couture-inspired scents were on the rise. However, its early trajectory was marred by business complications. Originally licensed to an Italian company owned by Gaetano Trapani, Valentino began to fade from view when the company later declared bankruptcy in 1981. This misfortune prevented the fragrance from reaching the broader American market through major department store counters, leaving it as a fleeting yet significant chapter in fashion history.
Despite these setbacks, the story of Valentino remained compelling—a scent born from the visionary world of Italian design that, though briefly in the spotlight, managed to carve out a lasting legacy among aficionados. The Chicago Tribune in 1985 recalled the era by mentioning that Milton Stern, the celebrated creator of Parfums Stern (known for icons like Perry Ellis and Oscar de la Renta), was preparing to launch a fragrance by the Roman designer Valentino. This announcement underscored the high expectations surrounding the name, even as the original product struggled with its troubled beginnings.
After lengthy legal matters were resolved in 1985, Valentino teamed up with Parfums Stern, reinvigorating the fragrance with fresh energy and a renewed vision. Parfums Stern, with its deep roots in luxury perfumery, slightly reformulated the original scent in collaboration with Givaudan-Roure, ensuring that the fragrance met contemporary standards without sacrificing its distinctive character. The reimagined perfume was rebottled and relaunched worldwide in 1986, marking a new chapter in its life. Over time, it became affectionately known as "V," a shorthand that encapsulated its essence—sophisticated, daring, and quintessentially Valentino.
This rebirth not only salvaged Valentino from its early setbacks but also cemented its place in the narrative of designer fragrances. It remains a testament to the resilience of a brand that, despite financial and legal hurdles, continued to push boundaries and explore the connection between high fashion and fine fragrance. The journey of Valentino from troubled inception to its eventual revival in the mid-1980s reflects the dynamic and often unpredictable nature of the perfume industry, where the power of a name and the allure of a vision can, in time, overcome even the most challenging obstacles.
The inspiration behind the reimagined Valentino perfume was as romantic and sumptuous as the scent itself—a Renaissance still life painting, bursting with ripe melons, glistening berries, velvety lilies, fragrant roses, and abundant green foliage. This visual richness was translated into a fragrance that sought to evoke not just a single moment, but an entire mood: opulent, sensual, and timeless. Valentino Garavani himself described the perfume as “seductive, an elegant tapestry of rare essences,” repeatedly emphasizing two core principles that guided its creation: feminine and elegant. Above all, he insisted, it was to be something that “would not hurt the nose”—a gentle luxury, never overwhelming, but always refined.
Valentino Garavani, ever the arbiter of elegance, spoke of his debut fragrance with the same devotion he reserved for his couture creations. To him, the perfume was no mere accessory—it was a finely tuned extension of his design philosophy. Yet amid the lavishness, Valentino insisted on restraint. His favorite word for the perfume was “feminine”—a word he uttered with conviction, as if it encompassed not just a style, but a feeling, a presence, a way of being. He followed it with a second descriptor: “elegant.” And then, with a hint of mischief and good taste, he added: “Actually, I wanted something that would not hurt the nose.” This final remark, almost whispered like a secret, underscored his disdain for perfumes that overwhelmed or offended. He sought balance—beauty that whispered, not shouted. A fragrance that would linger like a compliment rather than an intrusion.
In these few but telling statements, Valentino revealed a great deal about his vision: his perfume was to be alluring but never aggressive, refined but never remote. It was a scent for women who understood the art of subtlety, who preferred silk to sequins, and allure to insistence. Just as his dresses were designed to flatter without overpowering, his fragrance was meant to be worn with ease—graceful, intimate, and unmistakably Valentino.
The Relaunch:
To reflect this vision, the launch event in October 1985 was staged with all the theatrical elegance of a grand couture presentation. Held at the iconic Maxim’s in Paris—a temple of Belle Époque luxury—the launch dinner was an extravagant celebration of taste, scent, and spectacle. Guests were treated to a lavish menu including delicate raspberry tarts, scallop pâté, rustic country pâté, and a show-stopping rich, red-frosted torte, whose color matched the vibrant packaging of the new Valentino perfume. Seven of Paris’ premier floral designers were brought in to create lush arrangements throughout the space, echoing the perfume’s botanical inspiration and filling the restaurant with the heady aroma of fresh blooms. The entire evening unfolded like the scent itself: rich, refined, and unapologetically romantic.
Behind the artistry, however, was a powerful business strategy. This iteration of Valentino marked a determined comeback following the brand’s earlier setbacks. Parfums Stern, confident in both the product and the designer’s international allure, committed a staggering $10 million to its U.S. launch campaign. Before it even arrived on store shelves, the fragrance was already circulating through 28.9 million scented mailers—an ambitious direct-marketing tactic meant to ensure a wide and luxurious introduction. At $185 an ounce, the fragrance was not positioned for mass consumption; it was marketed as a prestige product, a carefully tailored piece of olfactory haute couture.
The American public's response was swift and encouraging. In February 1986, Bloomingdale’s included scent strips of Valentino in its catalog, resulting in over $100,000 in mail orders—a remarkable feat for a fragrance not yet widely available. By April, Valentino himself embarked on a promotional tour through six major U.S. cities and Toronto. The rollout was tightly controlled: only 10 U.S. cities were initially chosen to carry the fragrance, with plans to eventually reach 345 stores in the U.S. and 45 in Canada. Michael Stern, president of Parfums Stern, expressed cautious optimism: “We launched the new Valentino fragrance in Europe in October 1985. The reception was very, very encouraging to us because we had been wary of the previous disaster.” But now, he said, it was a “clean launch,” untethered to past missteps. Stern was confident that Valentino would quickly ascend the ranks, and with its unique blend of refined sensuality and glamorous presentation, it seemed well poised to do just that.
Fragrance Composition:
- Top notes: Italian mandarin, Calabrian bergamot, Tunisian orange blossom, Amalfi lemon, Georgian peach, melon, syringa , green notes
- Middle notes: French carnation, Dutch hyacinth, Alpine lily of the valley, Grasse rose, Chinese gardenia, Manila ylang ylang, Portuguese tuberose, Tuscan violet, Egyptian jasmine
- Base notes: Hungarian clary sage, Abyssinian civet, Florentine orris, Haitian vetiver, ambergris, Virginian cedar, Mysore sandalwood, Yugoslavian oakmoss, Tonkin musk
Scent Profile:
The 1985 reformulation of Valentino by Valentino—a crisp, fresh floral fragrance—unfolds like an elegantly staged ballet, each note entering with poise and precision, drawing from a palette of globally sourced materials, both natural and synthetic, to craft an olfactory portrait of timeless femininity. Compared to the original 1977 version—lighter, fruitier, and more transparent—the 1985 version reveals greater depth, complexity, and maturity, a fuller expression of Valentino’s vision refined by the expertise of Givaudan-Roure. The 1985 fragrance dances between freshness and sensuality with seamless transitions, where the original sparkled with the innocence of youthful charm, the latter exudes cultivated grace.
It opens with a dazzling citrus overture, bright and effervescent. Italian mandarin, sun-ripened on the southern coast, bursts forward with its sweet, tangy flesh—a brighter, juicier tone than orange or lemon, lending a sunny optimism to the opening. It pairs seamlessly with Calabrian bergamot, known for its green floral nuance and complexity—this particular variety, grown in the mineral-rich soil of Calabria, offers a touch of bitterness that keeps the sweetness in check. Amalfi lemon contributes a crystalline sharpness, zesty and almost fizzy, while Tunisian orange blossom offers a creamy, honeyed warmth that grounds the sparkle with sensuality.
Orange blossom from Tunisia is especially prized for its rich narcotic edge—more opulent and indolic than its Moroccan counterpart. The Georgian peach adds a velvet-skinned fruitiness, round and soft, evocative of a summer orchard. Melon, a lingering echo of the original’s celebrated watermelon note, now softened, contributes a translucent aquatic sweetness, while syringa (mock orange blossom) layers a clean, floral-powder note with touches of fresh linen and honeysuckle. A breath of green notes—cool and vegetal—suggests dew-soaked leaves and crushed stems, tethering the brightness to earth.
As the fragrance transitions to the heart, the composition blooms into a rich floral tapestry, each note woven from a distinct place with distinct character. French carnation, with its spicy clove-like edge, evokes vintage femininity and adds a fluttering warmth. Dutch hyacinth follows, cool and slightly waxy, evoking spring gardens under an overcast sky. The Alpine lily of the valley brings a green floral crispness—icy, fragile, and uplifting—while Grasse rose, one of the most coveted varieties, offers a buttery, honeyed richness layered with petal-fresh nuance, reminiscent of rose jam and velvet.
Chinese gardenia, creamy and indolic, contributes a narcotic white floral note that begins to hint at the sensuality to come. From Manila, the ylang ylang arrives with a tropical sweetness, slightly fruity and custard-like, grounding the bouquet in sultry warmth. Portuguese tuberose—known for its heady, waxy intensity—amplifies the drama, while Tuscan violet adds a powdery softness, giving the blend a romantic, old-world polish. Egyptian jasmine, sweet, carnal, and sun-drenched, deepens the composition with an exotic opulence—the type of jasmine with a skin-like warmth that evokes closeness and intimacy.
The dry down is both polished and primal. Hungarian clary sage introduces a herbal, musky bitterness—an elegant pivot that gives the base structure. Abyssinian civet, now synthetically rendered to preserve animal welfare, provides that unmistakable sensual pulse—earthy, feline, and warm. This synthetic civet, while cleaner than the natural form, maintains that skin-like allure, enhancing the muskiness of Tonkin musk, which drapes the composition in a soft, musky veil. Florentine orris, extracted from iris root, contributes a powdery coolness and subtle suede texture—ethereal and aristocratic, a nod to classic perfumery.
Haitian vetiver, with its dry, smoky woodiness, contrasts beautifully with the creamier notes, while ambergris (likely a synthetic amber accord) imbues the fragrance with a salty, warm, oceanic depth—subtle, like sun on skin. Virginian cedar adds pencil-shaving dryness and structure, while Mysore sandalwood, highly prized for its creamy, incense-like woodiness, adds softness and roundness. The Yugoslavian oakmoss, with its inky, forest-floor dampness, anchors the fragrance, giving it vintage gravitas and a whisper of bygone elegance.
In comparison to the original 1977 composition—which leaned more toward playful fruity-floral brightness with a crisp, green finish—the 1985 reformulation enriches the structure with denser florals, deeper musks, and an earthier, more luxurious base. It matures the fragrance’s identity without betraying its spirit, preserving the freshness while deepening the emotional register. It no longer evokes simply a breezy elegance, but something more lasting—a perfume that speaks of poise, power, and enduring beauty. It is Valentino, not just as a name, but as a legacy.
Bottles & Product Line:
The Valentino line by Stern included Parfum, Eau de Toilette, Fragrance Speciale Eau de Parfum, Deodorant Parfume Natural Spray, Body Bath, Body Lotion, Body Cream, Perfumed Body Dry Oil, Dusting Powder.
Parfum Pendant: The perfect cache for keeping Valentino Parfum near the warmth of your heart. To indulge in Valentino Parfum, gently pull the two V's apart and lift vial out. To refill, place funnel inside vial and carefully pour in Valentino fragrance.
Body Lotion: This fine-textured lotion with moisturizing ingredients softens and beautifies the skin, leaving a delicate, lasting aura of Valentino fragrance.
Body Bath: This ultra-gentle foaming gel for bath or shower leaves your skin cleansed, refreshed and delicately perfumed with Valentino.
Dusting Powder: The most finely-sifted talk imaginable, to gently seal in fresh moisture while enhancing skin's glow with a subtle sheen of pearlescent radiance. To use: Lightly dust onto clean skin. Use puff to softly smooth to an even, satiny finish.
Fate of the Fragrance:
The 1986 version of Valentino by Valentino, despite its elegant composition and sophisticated presentation, met an unexpectedly brief commercial lifespan. Discontinued after just a few years on the market, it became a case study in how even a beautifully crafted fragrance can falter in a crowded, competitive marketplace.
Between 1986 and 1987, Parfums Stern invested heavily in promoting the newly reformulated Valentino fragrance, spending a reported $2,023,900 on marketing efforts. This considerable sum reflected Stern's belief in the fragrance’s potential as a prestige product and its importance within their portfolio. The strategy leaned heavily into spot television advertising, a medium chosen for its broad reach and its ability to project Valentino’s romantic, sophisticated image to a mass audience. Commercials were likely styled to convey cinematic elegance—mirroring Valentino Garavani's couture world—offering viewers not just a fragrance, but a glimpse into the rarefied lifestyle of the Valentino woman.
In tandem, Stern allocated a substantial portion of its budget to magazine advertising, placing full-color spreads in prominent fashion and beauty publications. These ads typically emphasized the designer’s name, the opulent bottle design by Pierre Dinand, and the notion of luxury that was at the core of the Valentino brand. The marketing was polished, romantic, and aspirational, aligning with the aesthetic codes of 1980s glamour. However, despite this financial and creative push, the campaign ultimately struggled to translate awareness into widespread adoption—especially in the U.S. market. Still, the scale of this marketing effort speaks to the brand’s ambition: to stake a claim in the competitive high-end fragrance space and elevate Valentino to the same level of name recognition as other couture designers-turned-perfumers of the time.
According to reports from the time, the perfume’s fate was tangled in shifting corporate priorities and changing consumer tastes. In 1989, The Los Angeles Times reported that Avon, which had acquired Parfums Stern in 1987 for $160 million, later sold the Valentino fragrance license back to the Valentino Group for $12.3 million. Though Stern's overall sales grew under Avon's ownership—from $100 million to over $125 million annually—the Valentino fragrance line was not a significant profit generator. As Avon looked to reduce its $1-billion debt, divesting underperforming prestige assets like Valentino was a pragmatic financial move.
Parfums Stern had marketed Valentino fragrances worldwide under a licensing agreement, but the venture failed to resonate, particularly in the U.S. market. An article in Report on Business Magazine in 1988 called the fragrance a commercial disappointment despite having “all the right stuff”—a prestigious designer name, romantic branding, elegant packaging, and experienced promotional backing. Annette Green, then-president of the Fragrance Foundation, diplomatically noted, “It was not a fragrance that American women respond to,” while David Nugent’s more blunt assessment captured the sentiment industry-wide: “They poured money all over that fragrance, but it's still an absolute Edsel.” The reference to the Edsel—a famously failed car launch—underscored how disconnected the fragrance was from consumer preferences at the time.
Though the 1986 Valentino was reformulated with care and positioned as a sophisticated, elegant scent for the modern woman, its refined European floral style—layered, textured, and rooted in classic perfumery—may have felt too formal or too rich for late 1980s American tastes, which were increasingly shifting toward bolder, more assertive compositions with overt power and sillage. The same nuance and restraint that gave the perfume its quiet elegance ultimately may have made it appear understated in a marketplace dominated by louder statements like Poison, Obsession, and Giorgio.
As a result, this version of Valentino, though beautifully constructed, quietly slipped into obscurity, its elegance appreciated by a small segment of connoisseurs but never embraced by the mass market. Today, the fragrance is remembered less for its sales success and more as an example of how even artistry and pedigree are not guarantees of lasting commercial triumph.
In 1990, Valentino was distributed by Parfums International, a subsidiary of Elizabeth Arden which controlled a number of Unilever's fine fragrance houses including Valentino.
2008 Reformulation & Relaunch:
In 2008, Valentino revived its namesake fragrance once more—this time in the form of a newly reformulated eau de parfum for women. This version bore the familiar name, Valentino, but it was an altogether different creation. Where the original 1977 composition and the 1986 relaunch evoked classical European elegance—lush with natural floral absolutes, sensual musks, and mossy depth—this newer iteration leaned into a more contemporary aldehydic floral profile. It was crisp, airy, and shimmering, clearly designed to capture the clean, luminous aesthetic popular in the late 2000s.
The 2008 version opened with a bright, almost effervescent sparkle—a rush of aldehydes that gave the impression of light reflecting off cut crystal. These aldehydes didn’t just add brilliance; they contributed a subtle waxy softness, like fine soap or polished fabric. Unlike the warm citrus-fruit top notes of the earlier Valentino perfumes, here the introduction was more abstract and modern, aiming to suggest radiance and refinement over naturalism.
Its heart was composed of powdery florals—perhaps iris, rose, and lily—but these were rendered in a soft-focus haze, less botanical and more impressionistic. Where the 1977 and 1986 versions were verdant with gardenia, tuberose, ylang-ylang, and jasmine, this newer Valentino was quieter, cleaner, and stripped of the heady opulence of white florals. The base followed suit: soft, subtle, and musky, anchored in sheer woods and transparent ambers, with none of the classical mosses, civet, or sandalwood that had grounded its predecessors.
It’s notable that this 2008 version did not strive to recall the earlier Valentino fragrances—a deliberate departure rather than an homage. It was a product of its time, fitting neatly into the olfactory trends of the era, where minimalism, cleanliness, and easy elegance were favored over vintage-style richness. It may have been intended to modernize the Valentino name for a new generation of fragrance wearers, one more accustomed to the glint of aldehydes than the velvet of oakmoss.
However, despite its refined character and elegant presentation, this version, too, was quietly discontinued by 2015. Without a strong connection to the original Valentino scent identity—and with competition from the brand’s growing lineup of more fashion-forward flankers—it never truly secured a lasting place in the hearts of perfume lovers. Today, it serves as a brief chapter in the evolving fragrance legacy of the Valentino name, a reminder of how even iconic fashion houses continue to search for the perfect balance between past heritage and present tastes.
- Top notes: pomelo, pear blossom and magnolia
- Middle notes: orange blossom, mimosa and violet leaf
- Base notes: rice vapor, heliotrope and vanilla-orchid
Scent Profile:
The 2008 Valentino eau de parfum opens with a soft, radiant clarity—immediately delicate, with an almost translucent texture. The top note of pomelo introduces a tart, sparkling brightness. More refined and subtle than grapefruit, pomelo has a honeyed citrus quality, and here it’s rendered not with photorealistic sharpness, but as a misty shimmer. This is no juice bar zest—it’s elegant, lifted, and restrained. It sets the tone for the fragrance: luminous, graceful, and never overwhelming.
Next comes pear blossom, an unusual note that lends a petal-like crispness. Not as sugary as the fruit itself, the blossom feels sheer and springlike, carrying hints of green sap and dewy freshness. Its character is fleeting but important, as it echoes the perfume’s overarching lightness. Magnolia follows with its creamy, lemon-touched floralcy—there is a velvety, almost waxen smoothness to it. Magnolia bridges citrus and floral with ease, and in this context, its role is to gently soften the pomelo while reinforcing the impression of breezy femininity.
As the heart develops, orange blossom blooms—delicate and innocent but undeniably radiant. Harvested in Tunisia, orange blossom absolute is prized for its purity and lightness, far less indolic or heady than those from Morocco or Egypt. Here, its use avoids heaviness, favoring instead a gently floral freshness that evokes soft sunlight. Paired with it is mimosa, a feather-soft powdery floral with honeyed undertones. Grown in Grasse or India, mimosa brings a tender warmth that complements the orange blossom and smooths the transition from citrus to floral. Violet leaf adds a crisp, green sharpness—its scent veers away from the powdery violet flower and instead captures crushed stems and shaded leaves, adding structure and modernity to the heart.
The base is the most unexpected part of the composition. Rice vapor—a soft, milky-skin accord—creates the impression of warm steamed rice rising from a wooden bowl. This note is more sensation than smell; it evokes warmth, comfort, and skin intimacy. It likely combines both natural materials and synthetic musks to give it body. Paired with this is heliotrope, whose almond-vanilla-powder scent gives the base a pillowy sweetness. Heliotropin, the key molecule here, enhances the soft-focus texture, adding a dreamy, floral creaminess that is never cloying.
Finally, vanilla orchid completes the drydown—less gourmand than a true vanilla bean, and more floral, leaning into its orchid parentage. The note likely blends natural vanilla absolute with vanillin, the synthetic molecule that gives vanilla its signature warmth. Vanillin rounds out the drydown and lends a soft, slightly balsamic sweetness that lingers on the skin.
Overall, the 2008 Valentino is a fragrance composed in pale watercolors—sheer florals, creamy skin-like musks, and muted sweetness. There is no trace of the rich floriental heritage of the 1977 or 1986 versions. Instead, this iteration speaks softly, casting its beauty like silk voile over warm skin. The composition’s strength lies in its subtlety, its balance of natural floral elements with modern synthetics that smooth and refine each note, creating a scent as elegant and understated as chiffon.
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