Hypnotique by Max Factor (1958)

Hypnotique by Max Factor was launched in 1958, a year poised between postwar optimism and the beginnings of a more daring, modern sensibility. The choice of the name Hypnotique was deliberate, carefully crafted to evoke mystery, allure, and a touch of danger. The word itself is French—pronounced as "eep-no-teek"—a language long associated with sophistication, romance, and high style. Its literal meaning, “hypnotic,” conjures images of being entranced, spellbound, or seduced, as though the fragrance itself could cast a glamorous spell over those who encountered it. Such a name would have instantly suggested both sensuality and refinement, emotions that perfectly aligned with the changing mood of the late 1950s.

The word Hypnotique alone would have sparked strong associations in women of the time. The idea of being “hypnotic” spoke to the power of attraction, confidence, and feminine magnetism. Women were encouraged not only to look beautiful but to project an aura that was almost otherworldly, capable of drawing others in. In scent, this concept translated naturally into a spicy floral oriental composition—bold, exotic, and sultry, layered with precious woods and glowing floral notes. The perfume opened with a sparkling, almost effervescent top, leading into a richly spiced floral heart, and settling into an oriental base that lingered with warmth and depth. The result was a fragrance that seemed to embody the very essence of its name: captivating, entrancing, and unforgettable.

Primitif by Max Factor (1956)

Primitif by Max Factor, launched in 1956, carried a name designed to stir the imagination. The word Primitif is French, pronounced "pree-mee-teef", and translates literally to “primitive.” In the cultural context of the mid-20th century, the word was not meant to suggest roughness or lack of refinement, but rather a return to raw instinct, untamed sensuality, and elemental power. It evoked images of jungles, exotic landscapes, and the magnetic allure of a woman in touch with her deepest, most primal femininity. The advertising line, “Unleash the fatale in the femme with Primitif”, captured this perfectly—inviting women to embrace their bold, provocative side and indulge in a fragrance that was unapologetically sensual.

The mid-1950s was a time of fascinating cultural transition. Postwar austerity had given way to prosperity, and women were beginning to assert themselves in fashion, film, and lifestyle choices. The period was characterized by New Look silhouettes, cinched waists, and full skirts introduced by Christian Dior in 1947, but it was also the beginning of a shift toward more daring, body-conscious fashions. On screen, stars like Marilyn Monroe, Ava Gardner, and Sophia Loren embodied glamour and raw sensuality, shaping how femininity was perceived. In perfumery, the dominance of florals and aldehydic blends from the 1940s was giving way to richer, more complex chypres and orientals—fragrances that hinted at mystery, sexuality, and independence. Against this backdrop, a perfume called Primitif would have seemed thrillingly modern, embodying the woman who was no longer content to simply appear refined, but wished to project depth, strength, and allure.

Geminesse by Max Factor (1974)

Geminesse by Max Factor, launched in 1974, carried a name that was already familiar to women of the time. Originally introduced in 1966 as the title of a Max Factor cosmetics and skincare line, Geminesse had become associated with beauty, elegance, and modern femininity. When the name expanded into fragrance, it carried with it the allure of sophistication and continuity—a complete lifestyle concept of glamour. The word “Geminesse” itself has no direct linguistic origin, but it is clearly derived from the word gemini, the zodiac sign represented by twins. Pronounced "JEM-in-ess" (rhyming loosely with “happiness”), the name evokes duality, mystery, and a sense of balance between light and shadow. It suggests facets of a woman’s personality—both radiant and enigmatic—making it a fitting name for a chypre fragrance designed to unfold in contrasting layers.

The cultural moment of 1974 shaped how women received Geminesse. This was the post-1960s era, marked by the rise of women’s liberation, shifting social norms, and a desire for self-expression through fashion, cosmetics, and fragrance. The early 1970s were still influenced by bohemian trends—natural fabrics, earthy tones, and ethnic-inspired accessories—but were also moving toward the glamorous, tailored sophistication that would dominate later in the decade. Perfume at this time often mirrored women’s evolving identities, blending sensuality with independence. For a woman in 1974, a fragrance called Geminesse would have felt both modern and empowering, promising a sense of inner mystery and outward confidence.

Epris by Max Factor (1981)

Épris by Max Factor was launched in 1981, during a period when the perfume world was embracing bold, sophisticated, and expressive compositions. The name “Épris” comes from the French word meaning “enamored” or “infatuated,” pronounced "ay-PREE". The choice of this name evokes images of romantic fascination, allure, and emotional intensity, suggesting a fragrance that captures attention and leaves a lingering impression. By selecting a French name, Max Factor reinforced the perfume’s aura of European elegance and timeless sophistication, appealing to women seeking a scent that was both intimate and glamorous.

The early 1980s were a dynamic era defined by glamour, confidence, and self-expression. Fashion emphasized bold silhouettes, luxurious fabrics, and a sense of drama, while perfumes of the time increasingly combined floral, oriental, and animalic elements to create complex, long-lasting scents. Women of this period were drawn to fragrances that reflected their independence, sophistication, and sensuality, making a perfume named Épris—evoking the feelings of infatuation and romance—an ideal companion to their lifestyle. In terms of scent, the word “Épris” suggests a composition that is passionate, elegant, and captivating, with emotional depth that resonates on both a personal and social level.

Khara by Max Factor (1976)

Khara by Max Factor, launched in 1976, reflected the shifting tastes of the mid-1970s—when women were looking for fresher, more wearable perfumes that could transition easily from day to evening. The name Khara is intriguing in itself: it is the name of a city in Nepal, a place tied to the mystique of the East, mountains, and faraway horizons. Pronounced "KAH-rah", the word carries a crisp, exotic sound that conjures images of distant landscapes, shimmering temples, and winds scented with spices and blossoms. In this sense, the choice of name positioned the fragrance as a modern interpretation of the “Oriental” theme—yet one that felt lighter, fresher, and more approachable than the heavy, resinous orientals of earlier decades.

The period in which Khara was launched was marked by social change and a new informality in style. The mid-1970s was an era of flowing maxi dresses, natural fabrics, disco glamour, and a rising preference for “clean” or “green” fragrances. Perfumes were beginning to move away from the opulent, dense styles of the 1950s and 1960s, leaning instead toward airy chypres, crisp florals, and fruitier blends that suggested vitality and freedom. For women of the time, a perfume like Khara offered both sophistication and wearability—a fragrance that nodded to exoticism while still feeling modern, sporty, and fashion-forward.

The scent itself opened with a brisk sparkle: a sharp burst of lemon, green notes, and spices immediately awakened the senses, suggesting freshness and energy. This brightness gave way to a lush heart, where white florals—dominated by jasmine, but accented with gardenia and tuberose—unfolded in full, creamy richness. Yet even here, the composition was kept from becoming heavy; touches of lily of the valley and rose added freshness and a sense of springtime bloom. A light fruity note threaded through the middle, keeping the bouquet playful and radiant. Finally, the base revealed a more grounded character: sandalwood and vetiver lent warmth and subtle earthiness, while a faint touch of leather introduced an edge of sophistication and intrigue.

In context, Khara fit neatly into the prevailing trends of the 1970s, when light chypres and fresh florals were in high demand. It may even have been positioned as a direct competitor to Yardley’s Khadine (first launched in 1968 and relaunched in 1972), which offered a similar fresh floral style with an exotic edge. For women of the time, Khara embodied a balance between cosmopolitan elegance and everyday wearability—an Oriental-inspired fragrance that was not about heaviness or opulence, but about brightness, freshness, and a sense of modern adventure.

Fragrance Composition:

So what did it smell like? Khara by Max Factor is classified as a fruity floral chypre fragrance for women. It was a light, spring-like fragrance. Opens with a sharp burst of lemon, green notes and spices.  White flowers, heavy on the jasmine with some gardenia and tuberose thrown in. Light, fruity top note superimposed on a warm heart of lily of the valley, rose and jasmine fixed by a unique combination of sandalwood, vetiver with a touch of leather

• Top notes: aldehydes, Calabrian bergamot, Amalfi lemon, green notes, Russian coriander, Ceylon cardamom
• Middle notes: Turkish rose, Alpine lily of the valley, Provencal lavender, Egyptian jasmine, Chinese gardenia, Portuguese tuberose
• Base notes: leather, ambergris, Mysore sandalwood, Tonkin musk, Yugoslavian oakmoss, Haitian vetiver, Madagascar vanilla, Penang patchouli

Scent Profile:

Khara by Max Factor unfolds with an invigorating brightness that immediately feels alive, modern, and unmistakably of spring. The first impression is a sparkling combination of aldehydes—airy, effervescent notes that lend lift and radiance to the opening—paired with the sunlit citrus of Calabrian bergamot and Amalfi lemon. Bergamot from Calabria is prized for its luminous, almost floral citrus character, softening the sharper tang of lemon with elegance and depth. The Amalfi variety of lemon, grown along Italy’s coastal cliffs, carries a freshness tinged with sweetness, far removed from the bitterness of common lemon oils. Together, they create a top accord that is crisp yet refined, effervescent but never sharp. 

Layered beneath, the green notes add a dewy, almost crushed-leaf freshness, while a spice duet of Russian coriander and Ceylon cardamom introduces warmth and intrigue—coriander offering a citrusy, slightly woody accent, while cardamom contributes a cool, resinous spice with exotic depth. The effect is like stepping into a garden at first light, when the air is sharp, cool, and full of promise.

The heart of Khara blossoms with radiant florals that pulse with life. Turkish rose takes center stage here, rich, velvety, and complex, its honeyed facets anchoring the bouquet with a touch of sensuality. It mingles with Alpine lily of the valley, whose crisp, green sweetness adds transparency and freshness, keeping the fragrance light and breathable. A touch of Provençal lavender adds a delicate herbaceous nuance—soothing, clean, and slightly camphoraceous—balancing the richness of the white florals. 

At the core is Egyptian jasmine, lush and narcotic, offering both indolic warmth and radiant sparkle, intensified by the creamy Chinese gardenia and voluptuous Portuguese tuberose. These three heavy white florals, normally commanding, are tempered by the green brightness of lily of the valley and lavender, which keeps the bouquet from becoming overpowering. Together, they create a heart that feels both full-bodied and airy, a lush garden basking in the golden light of midday.

The base of Khara provides its grounding sophistication, turning what could have been a simple floral bouquet into a modern chypre with exotic intrigue. Leather introduces a subtle smokiness, dry and elegant rather than animalic, a whisper of polished handbags and evening gloves. It melds with ambergris, prized for its marine, salty warmth that refines and diffuses the blend, adding depth without weight. 

Mysore sandalwood, now rare and legendary, lends its creamy, milky-woody softness—far richer and more nuanced than other varieties of sandalwood—while Tonkin musk imparts a sensual, skin-like warmth. Yugoslavian oakmoss grounds the base with its earthy, slightly bitter green depth, the essential anchor of the chypre family, while Haitian vetiver adds a dry, smoky grassiness that balances the floral sweetness above. Finally, Madagascar vanilla introduces a soft gourmand caress, warmed by the dusky, balsamic depth of Penang patchouli, which adds complexity and longevity.

The result is a fragrance that balances brightness with depth, floral radiance with chypre elegance, and exotic intrigue with approachable freshness. Each ingredient plays its part—the sparkling citruses lifted by aldehydes, the lush white florals softened by greens, the moss, woods, and resins grounding it all in sophistication. Khara feels like an olfactory portrait of the 1970s woman: free-spirited yet polished, modern yet drawn to distant horizons, embodying lightness without sacrificing complexity.

Product Line:

The Khara product line by Max Factor, launched in 1976, was designed not just as a fragrance but as an entire atmosphere of luxury, offering women multiple ways to experience its exotic fruity floral chypre character. From fine parfum to scented lifestyle objects, each item reflected the Oriental-inspired theme of the line, blending practicality with a sense of fantasy.

At the heart of the line was the Parfum, available in a classic ¼ oz glass bottle presented in a cylindrical box covered in floral paper. This was the most concentrated and luxurious form of Khara, designed for those who wanted the purest, most enduring version of the fragrance. An especially charming presentation was the 0.28 oz “Perfume Amulet”, an elongated oval purse flacon fitted with a polished brass cap and finished with a silky tassel. This piece functioned both as a portable perfume and as an accessory, echoing the 1970s trend for jewelry-inspired scent bottles.

For everyday use, Max Factor released Natural Spray Colognes in both 1 oz and 2 oz bottles, molded with a raised floral pattern on clear glass. Advertised in 1977 with the tagline, “Sexy, there’s nothing to compare. Alluring Khara adds drama to night or day,” these sprays were positioned as convenient, modern, and effortlessly glamorous. Complementing these were the 2 oz Cologne Splash bottles, also in the molded floral glass design, offering women a slightly more traditional way to apply the fragrance.

The body line extended Khara into tactile luxuries of grooming and bath rituals. Women could layer the scent with Talcum Powder, packaged in a floral-paper canister, or indulge in the Dusting Powder, available in several striking presentations. Options included a 4 oz floral-paper covered box, a 3 oz green plastic box with puff, or a decorative Asian-inspired green glazed ceramic pot with fluffy puff. These dusting powders were designed to leave the skin softly scented, silky, and elegantly perfumed long after bathing.

Max Factor also leaned heavily into exotic, jewelry-like, and decorative packaging. The brand offered a faux jade locket containing Khara crème perfume—a solid perfume pendant marketed in 1976 as, “Exotic Look of Jade Necklace filled with Khara Crème Perfume... a gift she’ll adore.” At just $3.75 with any Khara purchase, it was an accessible luxury and an innovative way for women to carry fragrance with them throughout the day.

Even the home could be infused with Khara through a series of fragranced candles, designed in ornate, Asian-inspired vessels. These included a ceramic foo dog holder, a white ceramic base topped with a green-glazed turtle cover, and by 1978, the Khara Dynasty Candle, modeled after a Chinese foo dog and marketed at $7.50. A celadon green resin ginger jar version further reinforced the Oriental fantasy theme. Similarly decorative was the Fantasy Ceramic Pomander, a round black ceramic ball fitted with a ribbon hanger, described in Vogue (1978) as “Jade Song—scented with Khara,” perfect for perfuming closets or drawers.

Bathing rituals were elevated with Khara bath pearls and the Fantasy Milk Bath, packaged in a jade green ceramic ginger jar. Introduced in 1977, this indulgent bath product was priced at $10 for 8 oz and presented bathing not just as cleansing but as a sensual, perfume-soaked experience.

Together, the Khara line presented a complete universe of scent, extending far beyond the traditional spray or splash. Its exotic, Asian-inspired designs—from faux jade jewelry to foo dog candle holders—were a deliberate attempt to capture the 1970s fascination with Eastern aesthetics, fantasy lifestyles, and the merging of beauty with home décor. Khara was not just a fragrance, but an entire scented world of indulgence.

Fate of the Fragrance:

In 1976, Max Factor’s Khara was introduced to the public as a bold and imaginative fragrance, described by Vogue and other contemporary publications with a sense of excitement and theatricality. The perfume was celebrated as a “new mélange of green, floral, and Oriental notes,” capturing the mood of the modern, vibrant woman. Advertisements positioned Khara as racy, sensual, and exuberant, appealing to women eager to express confidence, sophistication, and a touch of fantasy through their scent. The name itself, short, crisp, and exotic, evoked intrigue and curiosity, harmonizing perfectly with the perfume’s richly layered composition.

Khara was consistently described as a “garden of pure fantasy,” combining sparkling floral top notes with aromatic green accents and enduring Oriental undertones. This multi-dimensional approach reflected a 1970s fascination with complex, imaginative scents that went beyond the linear or simplistic fragrances of earlier decades. The marketing emphasized the perfume’s ability to evoke romance, mystery, and allure, inviting wearers to experience a fragrant escape—an olfactory garden where flowers, spices, and exotic notes intertwined in unexpected harmony.

Contemporary copy highlighted Khara as a “fantasy fragrance,” differentiating it from single-note or more literal natural scents, which were considered too predictable for the expressive trends of the period. It was celebrated as unabashedly “full of flowers, spices, romance, mystery, and allure,” a reflection of the era’s appetite for innovation in perfumery. The fragrance’s exotic Oriental elements, paired with a fresh, flowery heart and vibrant green highlights, positioned it as a sophisticated statement for women who wanted their scent to embody both elegance and playfulness.

Ultimately, Khara was presented as more than a perfume—it was a sensory experience, a narrative of glamour and fantasy that spoke to the aspirations of 1970s women. Advertisements suggested a journey into a “very special garden, just this side of innocence, very near sensual,” positioning Khara as an ideal companion for modern femininity: daring yet approachable, mysterious yet familiar, vibrant yet deeply personal. It captured the era’s desire for expressive, multi-faceted fragrances that could evoke emotion and personality with every wear.

Khara by Max Factor, launched in 1976, was discontinued around 1983, and several factors likely contributed to its removal from the market. Although the fragrance was initially developed with care, the selection of the name Khara became a source of legal and marketing complications. After nearly a year of research, Max Factor personnel had deliberately chosen the name to avoid conflicts with existing trademarks. Despite these precautions, Charles Revson of Revlon filed a trademark infringement suit, arguing that Khara sounded too similar to Ciara, one of Revlon’s own perfumes. Both fragrances were sold through overlapping retail outlets, although Khara was typically positioned for a slightly less expensive market segment. The legal dispute and potential for consumer confusion likely created headaches for Max Factor’s marketing team.

Beyond the trademark issues, the name Khara carried an unforeseen linguistic complication. In Arabic, the word khara translates to a vulgar term for feces, which presented a serious obstacle for the brand’s intended Oriental-themed marketing campaign. Publications such as The Arab Economist in 1977 noted the unfortunate oversight, highlighting the irony that a perfume promoted as “deliciously sexy” might inadvertently repulse part of its target audience. This linguistic misstep would have made international expansion particularly problematic and may have contributed significantly to the decision to discontinue the line.

Despite these challenges, the Khara fragrance line enjoyed a period of popularity during its run. Its fruity floral chypre composition, exotic packaging, and fantasy-oriented marketing resonated with the era’s trend toward expressive and imaginative perfumes. Yet, in the end, the combination of trademark disputes and the cultural misstep surrounding its name likely made the continuation of the Khara line untenable, leading Max Factor to quietly withdraw the products from retail shelves by the early 1980s.