Elvis, I’m All Shook Up Over the Fate of Your Fragrance

To: Elvis.

From: A concerned fan.

Subject: New fragrance line.

Dear King:

I know you have other things on your mind, like working out the details of your comeback, but we gotta talk.

I was hanging around the cosmetics counter at Mervyn’s in Huntington Beach to see how your new line of cologne and after-shave for men was selling. I was happy to do it, although it’s pretty embarrassing to stand around a cosmetics counter for an hour.

Anyway, I hate to bring the bad news after all you’ve been through, but. . . .

Are you sitting down?

OK, here it is: The stuff ain’t moving.

I don’t mean that it isn’t selling like crazy. I don’t mean things were a little slow. I mean zilch, nothing. No sale.

I don’t get it. The picture of you looks great. They had a real nice display laid out, and saleswoman Lee Lytle was handing out little paper facsimiles of a CD with a sample scent inside. The price seems right: $18.50 for the cologne and $14.50 for the after-shave.

But nobody’s buying. It’s sitting there on the same counter with Monsieur Musk, and nobody’s grabbing the stuff up.

Lee Lytle said she hadn’t sold any. I know the shipments just arrived last week at Mervyn’s and J.C. Penney stores and that this is a slow sales period, but, sheesh, you’d think your name would be worth something. Lee questioned why your people chose this week to introduce the product--right after the holidays when women were out buying cologne for their men.

Some people seem to have forgotten you’re The King. Charlene Badaracco took a sample whiff and let out a yelp. “It’s too pungent and too talc-y at the same time,” she said. I tried to defend you. “How can it be too pungent and too talc-y?” I said. “It’s both,” she said. “It overpowers you. It reminds me of Aqua Velva.”

I asked if she disliked you and if that was affecting her opinion. “I enjoyed his singing. I couldn’t stand to watch him, but I enjoyed his singing.”

A man named Ronald Gisriel was a little more encouraging. He sniffed the sample, which he thought smelled a little “soapy,” and then opened the bottle. He thought there was a difference in quality. “The sample sucks. I like it right out of the bottle,” he said.

Alas, he didn’t buy any.

“It’ll make a nice clearance item,” Lee Lytle said, but I know she didn’t mean it the way it sounded. She’s a fan; she remembers going to a concert of yours more than 30 years ago in Los Angeles.

Debbie Broccolo is only 18 and also clerks at Mervyn’s. She wondered how many men are going to be so hung up on you that they’re going to come out and buy your cologne.

I probably shouldn’t mention this, but Debbie said you don’t represent a pop culture idol to her. She thinks her mom went to see you in Vegas once, but Debbie just thinks of you as a guy who died before she got plugged into the music scene.

That leads me to my idea.

I was wondering how’d you feel about a personal promotion tour. This may be insulting to a guy with 149 Billboard-charted hits, including 18 No. 1s, but I think you’re going to have to come out and promote this stuff, like Jim Palmer does with his Jockey underwear. He was at South Coast Plaza a few weeks ago, and he had a line of women wanting his autographed poster like you wouldn’t believe. And let’s face it, Palmer’s only in the Hall of Fame; you’re The king of rock ‘n’ roll.

It wouldn’t have to be anything overly showy, if that would make you uncomfortable. But I really believe that if you hit a few Mervyn’s stores and a few Penneys, you’d see some outstanding sales improvement.

I also have to say that I think your promotions people have let you down. Lee Lytle said she hadn’t seen any pre-promotion kits before the line was introduced. “The stuff came in the other day with no information, and we didn’t know anything about it,” she said.

OK, so you’re going to have to fire some people.

Here’s another free suggestion: I think they ought to change the ad campaign to, Give your man a touch of Elvis; turn him into a hunka-hunka burnin’ love.