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The joke is stretched to the point where it doesn't make sense any more - originally, the perfume looked like window spray being used by a supermodel who'd perhaps been forced to find new employment as a glamorous cleaner - but this just sells the story of a big gold bottle held by a dour woman with no purpose in life.
There's no sense of fun, no wit, no point.
^^^ She's always stunning with an equally gorgeous body, even with just the one expression.
(Not fair to accuse Joan of looking dour, tiger… For all we know, this is her “happy” look— or “seductive” look, or “coy” look, or “ecstatic” look, or…)