Les Quatre Secrets Poudres (1913)

 The "Four Secrets" from the House of Rosine (1913)

Originally published in Comoedia Illustré, Volume 6

When Comoedia Illustré last featured the House of Rosine’s exquisitely crafted presentation box—Les Quatre Secrets—on the fourth page of our issue, we were promptly overwhelmed with letters of inquiry. The allure was unmistakable: a Japanese lacquered case containing four face powders, each formulated to complement different settings and lighting. These creations were the work of Paul Poiret’s pioneering perfume and cosmetics line, a house that was rapidly becoming known as the most modern in all of Paris.

For the few readers who may not yet be acquainted with Rosine's perfumes and powders, we remind you that these products grace the perfumery counters of the most esteemed department stores in Paris—Le Louvre, Galeries Lafayette, Trois Quartiers, and more. Though charmingly called Les Quatre Secrets, these face powders are now hardly secret at all. They are, as the French idiom goes, les secrets de Polichinelle—an open secret, as universally known and impossible to conceal as the truth behind Pulcinella, the comical character from Italian commedia dell’arte, whose "secrets" were always spoken aloud.

The four powders, carefully housed within their ornate case, were designed with theatrical lighting in mind—each shade curated to enhance the complexion depending on the ambiance of a specific venue. In the golden lamplight of the Sarah Bernhardt Theatre, mauve powder casts a flattering, delicate glow, neutralizing sallow tones and giving the skin a soft, luminous finish. For the Bouffes-Parisiens, where the light is cooler and whiter, white powder best reflects the stage glow, brightening the face and lending it an ethereal quality. At the Variétés, known for its warmer and rosier lighting, pink powder imparts vibrancy and youthfulness, making the complexion appear fresh and radiant. In the overly harsh and stark illumination of the Opéra, yellow powder is essential, tempering the bluish overtones and balancing the skin for a healthier, more even look.

Why did these color nuances matter? Women of the era understood that the lighting in each venue could dramatically alter the appearance of their makeup. Selecting the correct shade of powder was not simply a question of vanity, but one of theatrical strategy—ensuring one’s face appeared as soft, glowing, and refined as the clothing, jewels, or coif that completed the ensemble. These powders also coordinated with wigs, which many women wore in stylized hues to match or contrast their gowns. Rosine’s Les Quatre Secrets offered women the tools to harmonize their beauty with every element of their surroundings—light, color, costume, and mood.

In creating this set, Paul Poiret offered women not just cosmetics but what he termed “four new graces”—a carefully curated arsenal for seduction, confidence, and elegance, wrapped into one lacquered box.

A Divine Rumor

Just as this edition was going to press, a divine whisper reached us: even the good Lord, it seems, perfumes His roses with La Rose de Rosine. Whether myth or metaphor, it is a testament to the widespread acclaim and poetic spirit surrounding Rosine’s creations.

Art and Perfume: Toute la Forêt & Nuit de Chine

Rosine’s two latest perfume launches, Toute la Forêt and Nuit de Chine, have already enchanted the discerning noses of fashionable Parisiennes. With names as lyrical and layered as the compositions themselves, these fragrances are not mere scents—they are immersive experiences. Toute la Forêt evokes the dewy hush of an early spring forest, while Nuit de Chine conjures a nocturne of exotic, dusky florals inspired by Poiret’s fascination with Orientalism.

And what of the flacons? These perfume bottles are objets d’art in their own right, designed not only to contain fragrance but to beautify the boudoir. With their stylized lines, delicate stoppers, and artistic embellishments, they would be at home among antique bibelots or in the most modern of Art Nouveau interiors.

Indeed, Rosine is not merely a perfume house; it is a Gesamtkunstwerk—a total work of art. Through the synergy of fashion, scent, color, and design, Paul Poiret continues to offer women not just products, but possibilities.

image created by Grace Hummel (Cleopatra's Boudoir).

Madame et Monsieur (1916)

Launched in 1916, Madame et Monsieur by Les Parfums de Rosine was a dual-fragrance concept designed by Paul Poiret, notable for its originality and symbolic resonance. The name, Madame et Monsieur—pronounced mah-dahm eh muh-syuh—is French for "Lady and Gentleman." It evokes immediate imagery of refined companionship, romance, and the intimate balance between feminine and masculine. More than a mere perfume, it was a poetic idea brought to life: a scent pairing made for two souls—a perfect wedding or engagement gift encapsulated in fragrance.

At a time when Europe was engulfed in the turbulence of the First World War, Poiret's release of Madame et Monsieur offered a gesture of tenderness and continuity. Fashion was shifting in response to wartime realities: silhouettes were simpler, practical fabrics prevailed, and the grandeur of the Belle Époque was giving way to more modern sensibilities. Yet amid this austerity, Poiret's creation whispered of elegance, shared intimacy, and the resilience of love.

D’ou viens-tu? (1925)

D’où viens-tu? by Les Parfums de Rosine was launched in 1925, a time of artistic and cultural revival following the devastation of World War I. The name, pronounced doo vyan-too, translates from French as “Where do you come from?”—a phrase both poetic and charged with curiosity. Paul Poiret, always attuned to theater, music, and narrative, borrowed the title from a poignant moment in the opera Lakmé by Léo Delibes. In this scene from Act I, the British officer Gérald wanders into a forbidden temple garden and is asked this question by Lakmé, the daughter of a Brahmin priest. The opera, infused with exoticism and romantic tragedy, was a favorite in the Belle Époque and beyond, reflecting the West’s fascination with the East.

The name “D’où viens-tu?” evokes mystery and allure—a beckoning question that seems whispered from behind a silk screen, scented with incense and flowers. It conjures images of hidden temples, moonlit gardens, and the gentle tension of a forbidden encounter. In fragrance, this question could be interpreted as a softly exotic composition, perhaps built on delicate white florals, traces of spice, and the warmth of amber or sandalwood—a scent that lingers like a memory you can’t quite place.

When this perfume debuted in 1925, the world was in the midst of the Années folles—France’s Roaring Twenties. Women were breaking with tradition, embracing short haircuts, dropped waistlines, and a bold new sense of personal freedom. Perfume was no longer just a genteel finishing touch; it had become a personal expression of mood, identity, and rebellion. A name like D’où viens-tu? would have resonated with modern women of the era—those who traveled, read, danced, and dreamed. It suggested both sensuality and independence, curiosity and confidence.

Parfum de Ma Marraine (1915)

The launch of "Parfum de Ma Marraine" in 1915 occurred during a poignant period deeply impacted by the First World War. This era was characterized by soldiers being stationed far from home, often writing letters to their loved ones and receiving care packages in return. The exchanges of letters and small gifts were a lifeline connecting soldiers to their families and sweethearts, providing comfort and a sense of closeness amidst the turmoil of war.

If a soldier sent a letter but received no reply, it would evoke feelings of anxiety, uncertainty, and longing. The lack of response could suggest various scenarios—from logistical delays to more distressing possibilities like injury or loss.

"Parfum de Ma Marraine," translating to "My Godmother's Perfume," is a deeply evocative name for a perfume launched during this time. A godmother traditionally holds a special place in one's life, often symbolizing guidance, care, and affection. Naming a perfume after such a figure suggests nurturing, comfort, and a personal connection that transcends distance and adversity. It resonates with the sentiments of soldiers finding solace in memories of loved ones and the familiar scents that remind them of home.

Paul Poiret, the designer behind the perfume, likely chose this name to evoke nostalgia, warmth, and emotional resonance. In a time of war, when many sought moments of tenderness and familiarity, a perfume named after a godmother's scent encapsulates a yearning for stability and the enduring bonds of love and support.

1925 (1925)

1925 by Les Parfums de Rosine was launched to coincide with a pivotal moment in design history: the opening day of the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes in Paris. This world’s fair was more than a showcase—it marked the formal birth of the Art Deco movement. By choosing to name the fragrance 1925, Paul Poiret was anchoring his perfume not just in a year, but in a cultural event, a style, and an idea of modern luxury. Pronounced simply as dix-neuf cent vingt-cinq (dees-nuhf sahn van-sank) in French, the name felt both timely and symbolic—like a timestamp sealed in crystal.

For women in the 1920s, wearing a perfume called 1925 would have been like wearing the future. This was the era of liberation: hemlines rose, corsets disappeared, and bobbed hair and jazz rhythms redefined femininity. 1925 evoked a modern woman stepping out in a beaded gown, cigarette in hand, eyes rimmed in kohl, embracing a new kind of sensuality. The name itself carried a bold simplicity. It wasn’t flowery or fanciful—it was a number, a date, a declaration. It suggested sleek geometry, mirrored interiors, and an unapologetic embrace of modernity.

Though we don’t have its precise scent notes, 1925 was likely created to reflect the prevailing styles of the moment: rich floral bouquets anchored by dark, opulent bases. The chypre family—marked by bergamot, labdanum, oakmoss, and patchouli—was still en vogue, alongside emerging aldehydic florals and exotic orientals. If 1925 followed this trend, it might have opened with aldehydes or citrus sparkle, bloomed into a heart of jasmine or rose, and settled into something musky, balsamic, and warm—a reflection of Poiret’s theatrical taste and his fondness for luxurious Eastern motifs.

When sales began to slow around 1928, Poiret attempted a clever reinvention: the perfume was rebranded as 1935 (a name trademarked on February 3, 1928), using the same presentation bottle and formula. Perhaps it was meant to feel futuristic—a projection of glamour yet to come. But the gamble didn’t pay off. 1935 failed to catch on, and the perfume was ultimately discontinued, making the 1935 bottles a rare collector’s treasure today.

In the wider context of perfumery, 1925 sits firmly within the narrative of interwar innovation—a time when perfumes began to carry the weight of artistic and emotional storytelling. Unlike more whimsical or romantic names, 1925 was stark and architectural. It wasn’t a fantasy or a flower; it was a year, a moment, a movement. It asked not "What do you feel?" but "Where were you when the future arrived?"

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Unfortunately, I have no published notes on this fragrance.

Bottles:

In a 1934 ad for a French catalog below, you can see that the perfume was renamed 1935.

Fate of the Fragrance:

Launched on the opening day of the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes in Paris, 1925 by Les Parfums de Rosine was designed as an olfactory tribute to the modern elegance and geometric sophistication of the new Art Deco era. The perfume reflected Paul Poiret’s desire to marry contemporary style with scent—bold, refined, and forward-looking. Sold throughout the late 1920s, 1925 remained part of Rosine’s catalog for three years, riding the wave of popularity inspired by the international exhibition and Poiret’s flair for modern theatricality.

However, by 1928, interest in the perfume had waned. In an attempt to revitalize the fragrance without altering its formula or packaging, Poiret rebranded the scent under a new name: 1935. The new name was formally trademarked on February 3, 1928, and existing stock of 1925 was repackaged accordingly. This was a clever marketing strategy aimed at suggesting a futuristic vision—perhaps one that would appeal to women seeking the next iteration of elegance. Unfortunately, the gamble failed to resonate with consumers.

By 1930, when Les Parfums de Rosine went out of business, the renamed 1935 was sold off at drastically reduced clearance prices, alongside other discontinued stock. Remarkably, bottles of 1935 were still being sold as late as 1934, indicating that even during its final years, Rosine’s perfumes retained some loyal following. Today, bottles labeled 1935 are considered exceedingly rare, a curious footnote in perfume history—two identities for the same fragrance, one born of cultural triumph, the other a final grasp at survival during Rosine’s twilight.

Chypre des Iles (1925)

Chypre des Îles, launched by Les Parfums de Rosine in 1925, was a poetic and imaginative addition to Paul Poiret’s radiant Série du Soleil fragrance collection. The name—French for “Chypre of the Islands” (pronounced “sheep-ruh day zeal”)—is rich in layered meaning. "Chypre" refers both to the Greek island of Cyprus, long associated with the origins of perfumery, and to a specific fragrance family characterized by a bold contrast between fresh citrus top notes and a warm, mossy, and resinous base. The addition of “des Îles” (of the islands) lends an exotic, sun-drenched fantasy, conjuring images of faraway isles, perfumed breezes, and golden shores—an idealized, escapist vision so fitting for the mood of the 1920s.

Why Poiret chose this name likely lies in his flair for the theatrical and his enduring fascination with the exotic. The 1920s, known in France as les années folles (the “crazy years”), were a period of exuberance, recovery, and creativity following the trauma of the First World War. Women were embracing new freedoms, modern fashions, and bolder cosmetics, and perfumery was evolving to reflect this spirit of innovation and glamour. Poiret, always a champion of modernity and fantasy, saw fragrance not merely as a product but as a story—and Chypre des Îles was one of sun-soaked indulgence, sensual mystery, and Mediterranean reverie.

The term “chypre” in perfumery denotes a specific olfactive structure with roots in antiquity, but it was François Coty’s 1917 Chypre that codified the modern genre. The formula typically includes bergamot in the top notes, floral or fruity elements in the heart, and a deep, rich base of oakmoss, labdanum, and patchouli. Variations might tilt toward leather, green, floral, or fruity interpretations. By the time Chypre des Îles appeared, the chypre style had become a fixture of perfumery, with nearly every house offering their own interpretation. What made Rosine’s version distinct was its fanciful, tropical twist—an “island” interpretation that softened the structure with languid florals or exotic fruits, while maintaining the core chypre contrast of brightness and depth.

Women of the time would have seen Chypre des Îles as a fragrance of sophistication and allure—neither innocent nor cloying, but worldly and confident. The very name evoked leisure, travel, and a sunlit fantasy of escape. For those who could not travel, wearing such a fragrance was its own kind of voyage.

In keeping with the era's advancing materials, Chypre des Îles likely combined precious naturals with newer synthetics—aromachemicals that enhanced radiance, projection, and lasting power. By the 1920s, perfumers were blending both with increasing finesse. A traditional chypre built solely on naturals might have lacked the clarity and lift that synthetics like aldehydes, ionones, and coumarin could provide. Thus, Rosine’s 1925 version was a modernized classic: rooted in tradition, but animated by contemporary artistry, imagination, and the sunlight of distant isles.

La Serie du Soleil:

In 1925, Les Parfums de Rosine debuted La Série du Soleil—“The Sun Series”—a trio of perfumes that reflected Paul Poiret’s fascination with travel, light, and luxurious escapism. This collection, consisting of Ambre de Venise, Jasmin de Riviera, and Chypre des Îles, was conceived as an olfactory journey through some of the most evocative, sun-drenched regions of Europe and beyond. United under the poetic theme of the sun, each fragrance celebrated a different mood and landscape, filtered through Poiret’s artistic lens of glamour and exoticism.

The name La Série du Soleil was symbolic: the sun—le soleil—represents warmth, vitality, sensuality, and freedom. In the 1920s, the sun was newly fashionable, associated with leisure, travel, tanned skin, and the blossoming of modern holiday culture along the Mediterranean. This trio captured the spirit of modern elegance infused with golden radiance and a sense of place.

Ambre de Venise represented the mystical warmth of Venice, a city where East meets West. Known for its centuries-old trade in exotic resins, spices, and incense, Venice was a fitting muse for a rich amber-based fragrance. It conjured the glow of candlelit palazzos and the shimmer of the Adriatic at sunset.

Jasmin de Riviera embodied the fresh sensuality of the French Riviera—sun-washed terraces, garden strolls, and salty sea breezes. The region around Grasse was (and still is) renowned for its jasmine harvests, and this scent offered a radiant interpretation of the flower at its most luminous and carefree.

Chypre des Îles drew on the mythical island origins of the classic chypre accord, reimagining it with a sunlit twist. While “Chypre” refers historically to the island of Cyprus, the addition of des Îles (“of the islands”) suggests a broader fantasy—of Mediterranean isles, distant archipelagos, and fragrant winds scented with moss, citrus, and flowers.

Together, these three perfumes formed a coherent and imaginative collection that aligned with both artistic trends and commercial desires of the time. They reflected the growing obsession with the exotic, the fashionable turn toward outdoor pleasures, and the innovations of modern perfumery—where tradition was not abandoned but reinterpreted through the lens of sunlight, story, and style. La Série du Soleil was not just a trio of perfumes; it was a celebration of radiance, wanderlust, and the luxurious freedom of the modern woman.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Chypre des Iles by Rosine is classified as a chypre fragrance for women.

• Top notes: Calabrian bergamot, Algerian narcissus, Provencal cassie, Seville orange, calamus, Reunion geranium, Dutch hyacinth
• Middle notes: Turkish rose, Grasse jasmine, Comoros ylang ylang, Florentine orris, Ceylon nutmeg, Portuguese tuberose, angelica, Hungarian clary sage
• Base notes: ambergris, Maltese labdanum, Venezuelan tonka bean, coumarin, Tyrolean oakmoss, Mysore sandalwood, vetiver, vetiveryl acetate, Indonesian patchouli, Mexican vanilla, vanillin, Abyssinian civet, Canadian castoreum, Tibetan musk, musk ketone

Scent Profile:

When first encountering Chypre des Îles by Rosine, the fragrance opens with a vivid brightness, like sunlight refracted through emerald foliage. The top notes are a verdant and radiant mosaic—Calabrian bergamot, sharp and sparkling, lends its characteristic citrus zing, cutting through the lush sweetness with elegance. Alongside it, the powdery green Algerian narcissus absolute unfolds with narcotic intensity, its natural bitterness pairing beautifully with the dry, powdery facets of cassie blossom from Provence—a complex note somewhere between mimosa and leather. There’s a honeyed facet to the orange, likely from Seville, adding juicy brightness, while calamus, a spicy, aromatic root, lends a slightly camphorous, earthy green dimension, anchoring the floral exuberance. The addition of geranium, likely from Réunion, brings a sharp, rosy-green freshness that accentuates both floral and citrus elements. Dutch hyacinth, dewy and fresh, evokes the scent of springtime gardens before the heat of summer.

As the perfume begins to warm on the skin, the heart of the fragrance blossoms in a rich, floral cascade. Damask rose, with its velvety petals and deep honeyed scent, merges with the intensely indolic jasmine grandiflorum from Grasse—a nod to the heart of French perfume artistry. Ylang ylang, sourced from the Comoros, introduces a rich, creamy floral note with a faintly spicy edge, while Florentine orris root adds a soft, buttery, violet-like quality beneath the floral layer. The spicy, woody sweetness of nutmeg from Ceylon nestles into the floral bouquet, enhanced by the cool herbal tones of angelica root and the nutty, ambered edge of Hungarian clary sage. At this stage, the scent takes on a sultry floral density, like the humid air of a garden just after rain. Portuguese tuberose, indolic and heady, adds narcotic depth, drawing the composition toward a romantic and exotic character.

In the drydown, Chypre des Îles reveals its most luxurious and provocative elements. The base is unmistakably chypre: mossy, resinous, and animalic. Ambergris, natural and saline, infuses the fragrance with an elusive oceanic warmth, while Maltese labdanum—deep, balsamic, and leathery—creates a smoldering, enveloping effect. Tonka bean absolute, rich in coumarin, brings a creamy almond-vanilla aroma, intensified by synthetic coumarin for smooth projection and persistence. Oakmoss, especially the richly earthy Tyrolean variety, provides the signature damp-forest backbone, binding everything in an organic embrace.

Sandalwood from Mysore, prized for its soft, lactonic quality, offers a sacred warmth, blending seamlessly with earthy vetiver and its clean, modern cousin vetiveryl acetate, which enhances longevity and balances the natural sharpness. The addition of Indonesian patchouli gives the base a dusky, woody anchor with a touch of aged leather. A duet of Mexican vanilla and synthetic vanillin intensifies the sweetness, rounding the edges with a golden warmth.

Finally, a trio of animalic elements—Abyssinian civet, Canadian castoreum, and Tibetan musk—adds depth and sensuality. These ingredients, whether natural or reproduced synthetically, evoke the warmth of skin and the luxury of fine fur. Musk ketone, a popular synthetic musk of the early 20th century, amplifies the animalic warmth without overpowering, giving the perfume a diffusive halo that lingers like a whispered memory.

Altogether, Chypre des Îles is more than a perfume—it’s a portrait of a distant island bathed in golden sun and thick with tropical blossoms and deep mossy undergrowth. Sensual, evocative, and complex, it embodies the refined exoticism that Paul Poiret sought to capture in his Série du Soleil: radiant femininity wrapped in nature’s most indulgent raw materials.

Bottle:

Fate of the fragrance:

Launched in 1925, Chypre des Îles by Les Parfums de Rosine emerged during the height of Paul Poiret’s artistic and commercial expansion. As part of his Série du Soleil—a sun-drenched trio of perfumes celebrating light, travel, and exoticism—Chypre des Îles represented the allure of distant islands filtered through the refined structure of the chypre accord. With its lush florals, rich resins, and animalic undertones, it stood as a sensual and elegant interpretation of the classic chypre formula, tailored for the sophisticated modern woman of the 1920s.

However, despite its artistic merit and evocative composition, Chypre des Îles had a limited commercial lifespan. In 1930, only five years after its release, Les Parfums de Rosine was forced to close its doors. Poiret’s business empire, which had once been a symbol of avant-garde luxury, could not withstand the combined pressures of changing tastes, financial mismanagement, and the global economic downturn of the Great Depression. With the closure of the house, all Rosine fragrances—including Chypre des Îles—were discontinued.

After 1930, the remaining stock of Rosine perfumes was sold at deeply discounted prices, often appearing in clearance bins or surplus lots at department stores. Perfumes that once graced the boudoirs of Parisian society were now made accessible to a broader public, albeit stripped of their former glamour. Chypre des Îles, like many of Poiret’s creations, slipped quietly into obscurity—its name a lingering echo of a more opulent, imaginative age. Today, surviving bottles are rare treasures, bearing witness to a brief but brilliant chapter in early 20th-century perfumery.

Pois de Senteur (1920)

Pois de Senteur by Les Parfums de Rosine was launched in 1920, during a moment of post-war rejuvenation and blossoming creativity in the arts, fashion, and perfumery. The name “Pois de Senteur”—pronounced pwah duh sahn-TUHR—is French for “sweet pea,” a delicate flowering plant renowned not only for its soft, fluttering blossoms but also for its charming, fresh, and gently sweet scent. The term conjures up images of romantic gardens, spring breezes, pastel silks, and feminine ease. In the years following World War I, such sentiments were welcome—an embrace of beauty and sentimentality after years of hardship.

Paul Poiret, ever the aesthete and storyteller, likely chose the name Pois de Senteur for its poetic association with softness, grace, and the fleeting beauty of nature. It spoke to the ideal of femininity he often celebrated—delicate, radiant, and quietly seductive. At the same time, the name had universal appeal. The sweet pea was beloved in both French and English gardens, and had been a popular floral motif in perfumes throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries. Its inclusion as a dedicated soliflore in the Rosine lineup placed it firmly within tradition, yet its updated 1920 interpretation was far more than a simple reproduction of older formulas.