A couple of weeks ago I was surprised to hear a colleague
describe several perfumes as “sophisticated”. My surprise was due to the fact
that I personally perceived these compositions as being random mash-ups of common
materials without regard to balance or overall wearability, and not very
enjoyable. I’m sure we all have our own definitions of “sophisticated”, but the
first ones I found in a Goggle search are as follows:
1) having, revealing,
or proceding from a great deal of worldly experience and knowledge of fashion
and culture;
2) (of a machine,
system, or technique) developed to a high degree of complexity.
In all cases, “sophisticated” is in many ways a moving target, very much of the moment, but in other ways a fixed quality. Junk is junk and kitsch is kitsch no matter when and where it was produced, but does that mean that the junk and kitsch are not sophisticated? Is a perfume with 942 ingredients more or less sophisticated than one with 15? Or one that consists of a single material? Is a creation designed to shock sophisticated? Is it sophisticated the second or third time around? Is a badly constructed perfume made by an upscale designer house more sophisticated than the same perfume made in a dilettante’s kitchen? This question is analogous to the question I often ask myself when I see pictures on Vogue of designer garments that look like they were failed experiments in an elementary school sewing class, or embarrassing Halloween costumes. Can context create the aura of “sophistication”, or is some intrinsic quality necessary? Can something be too “sophisticated” to be of any practical use?
Did the perfumes in question fit either
of these definitions? Not in my book. The first definition would imply that
they fit into some highly developed socio-cultural schema that is the result of
everything that has preceded them, and that each makes a coherent additional
and novel statement based on that body of knowledge. The
second would imply that they were technically well put-together in such a way
as to intentionally evoke complex thoughts, emotions, and other states. After
all, a perfume could be thought of as a “machine” designed to influence out
physical, mental, and emotional state in a pleasurable way. The term can even
be applied to the natural world. When I searched for images epitomizing the
term “sophisticated”, these wings of an African beetle kept popping up as an
example of a sophisticated design for flight.
In all cases, “sophisticated” is in many ways a moving target, very much of the moment, but in other ways a fixed quality. Junk is junk and kitsch is kitsch no matter when and where it was produced, but does that mean that the junk and kitsch are not sophisticated? Is a perfume with 942 ingredients more or less sophisticated than one with 15? Or one that consists of a single material? Is a creation designed to shock sophisticated? Is it sophisticated the second or third time around? Is a badly constructed perfume made by an upscale designer house more sophisticated than the same perfume made in a dilettante’s kitchen? This question is analogous to the question I often ask myself when I see pictures on Vogue of designer garments that look like they were failed experiments in an elementary school sewing class, or embarrassing Halloween costumes. Can context create the aura of “sophistication”, or is some intrinsic quality necessary? Can something be too “sophisticated” to be of any practical use?
I know this is an unanswerable question
given that we cannot really even define “sophistication”, but to me it’s an
interesting issue to think about. Readers, how do you define “sophisticated”? Can a perfume be “sophisticated”? If so, what
would make it that way? If not, why not?
[First cartoon by Rube Goldberg; beetle wings from Wikimedia; fashion photo one of the first that I found when opening catwalk images on Vogue - it's good enough to make the point]

