PMI is a U.S. company with headquarters in Lausanne, Switzerland. PMI is ranked second in the global tobacco market behind the China National Tobacco Company.
• PMI ranks second in the Russian cigarette market with 26% of the market in 2009.
• Russia is PMI’s largest market and is still considered an emerging market that PMI specifically targets to improve the growth of the company.
o “Russia [is] one of the key drivers of PMI’s strong overall results during the first half of 2008” according to Leo McLoughlin, Managing Director of PMI Affiliates in Russia.
• When Russia was part of the USSR, PMI signed an Agreement on Scientific and Technical Cooperation allowing production of PMI brands under its license in the USSR between 1977 and 1986. In 1992, PMI opened its first representative office in Moscow.
• PMI operates through three entities in Russia, but is generally known as Philip Morris International.
o Philip Morris Sales and Marketing Ltd. - Has about 100 offices throughout the country.
o OAO Philip Morris Kuban- A manufacturing facility acquired in 1993 and opened for production in 2000.
o ZAO Philip Morris Izhora- Construction of factory began in 1998 and production started in 2000.
• In 2009 PMI produced 390 billion cigarettes in its Russian factories.
• In 2008, PMI was the leader in the premium-priced cigarette segment, but as consumers down trade to cheaper brands, PMI continues to prosper because of its strong portfolio of brands in all cigarette segments.
• PMI continues to introduce new products and profit from the Russian market despite tough economic conditions.
o In a presentation to Morgan Stanley, PMI’s CEO Louis Camilleri stated that “Our business momentum [in Russia] continues unabated, the distribution network, which over the years has been consolidated, is working efficiently and effectively
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Friday, May 4, 2012
A Chronological History Of Cigarette Smoking, By Brand
Parliament Lights, 1986: The First. Smoked on the train tracks on the way home from school, after we ran into a friend's older brother who had a pack. I am proud to say that I toughed it out and only coughed once, although this still does not diminish the embarrassment of having one's first cigarette be a Parliament Light.
Camels, 1986: Look How Bad I Am. When we speak of Camels here, we speak of filterless Camels, smoke of prison inmate and off-track betting habitue alike. Chosen both as an attempt to look harder and an obvious overcompensation for my guilt over the Parliament thing. The next year or so would find the brand interchangeable with Lucky Strikes and Chesterfields, also unfiltered. I seem to remember these as being the last packs I was able to buy in cigarette machines, which were already starting their slow march towards extinction.
English Ovals, 1987-1988: Family Tradition. When my father, who had given up smoking upon my birth, found out that I had picked up the habit, he evinced a combination of disappointment and resignation, but he was also enthusiastic about these sweet unfiltered American classics, which were his favorite brand during his lung-damaging years. For a while they were mine as well, although I do remember a brief flirtation with Player's Navy Cut.
Sher Bidis, 1988: A Shameful Summer Indulgence. I was young, what do you want from me? I still blush when I recall this era. It was only two months though. Best not to think about.
Gauloises/Gitanes, 1988-1993: The Age Of Pretension. They were dark. They were strong. They were French. They spoke of exoticism, of cosmopolitan ways. They were absolutely brutal, "but so is life," said the impossibly precious teen. (Also known as the years of terrible breath.) I smoked more of these than I (or my eventual pulmonary specialist) care to consider, but wow were they great at the time. I think a few puffs off of one now would knock me on my ass, but, ah, youth. I generally preferred Gauloises, since the Gitanes packet looked like you were carrying around condoms with you, but either would do. The cigarettes I still dream about when I dream about cigarettes.
Basic, 1993: The Frugal Year. Ah, generic cigarettes. How many more drinks was I able to buy because of the money I saved on you? Notable for marking my entry into the filtered cigarette category.
Marlboro Reds, 1994-present: The Final Cut. And so, I gave in and became the typical American cigarette consumer. Sure, I've bummed the illicit menthol when desperate. There was that brief period when I quit and gained 30 pounds (resuming smoking managed to take five of those off, so, you know, yay, me). I've smoked the occasional Nat Sherman at fancy parties. I'm not bragging or anything, I'm just setting the record straight. But if the last fifteen-odd years of my life have had one constant, it has been that red-and-white pack sitting on my dresser, an old friend ready to console whatever, whenever, a soothing hit of nicotine is needed. Which is fairly frequent. In fact, right now would be a good time. Anyway, consider yourselves caught up.
Camels, 1986: Look How Bad I Am. When we speak of Camels here, we speak of filterless Camels, smoke of prison inmate and off-track betting habitue alike. Chosen both as an attempt to look harder and an obvious overcompensation for my guilt over the Parliament thing. The next year or so would find the brand interchangeable with Lucky Strikes and Chesterfields, also unfiltered. I seem to remember these as being the last packs I was able to buy in cigarette machines, which were already starting their slow march towards extinction.
English Ovals, 1987-1988: Family Tradition. When my father, who had given up smoking upon my birth, found out that I had picked up the habit, he evinced a combination of disappointment and resignation, but he was also enthusiastic about these sweet unfiltered American classics, which were his favorite brand during his lung-damaging years. For a while they were mine as well, although I do remember a brief flirtation with Player's Navy Cut.
Sher Bidis, 1988: A Shameful Summer Indulgence. I was young, what do you want from me? I still blush when I recall this era. It was only two months though. Best not to think about.
Gauloises/Gitanes, 1988-1993: The Age Of Pretension. They were dark. They were strong. They were French. They spoke of exoticism, of cosmopolitan ways. They were absolutely brutal, "but so is life," said the impossibly precious teen. (Also known as the years of terrible breath.) I smoked more of these than I (or my eventual pulmonary specialist) care to consider, but wow were they great at the time. I think a few puffs off of one now would knock me on my ass, but, ah, youth. I generally preferred Gauloises, since the Gitanes packet looked like you were carrying around condoms with you, but either would do. The cigarettes I still dream about when I dream about cigarettes.
Basic, 1993: The Frugal Year. Ah, generic cigarettes. How many more drinks was I able to buy because of the money I saved on you? Notable for marking my entry into the filtered cigarette category.
Marlboro Reds, 1994-present: The Final Cut. And so, I gave in and became the typical American cigarette consumer. Sure, I've bummed the illicit menthol when desperate. There was that brief period when I quit and gained 30 pounds (resuming smoking managed to take five of those off, so, you know, yay, me). I've smoked the occasional Nat Sherman at fancy parties. I'm not bragging or anything, I'm just setting the record straight. But if the last fifteen-odd years of my life have had one constant, it has been that red-and-white pack sitting on my dresser, an old friend ready to console whatever, whenever, a soothing hit of nicotine is needed. Which is fairly frequent. In fact, right now would be a good time. Anyway, consider yourselves caught up.
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