Borgia by Les Parfums de Rosine, launched in 1914, was one of Paul Poiret’s most provocative creations—both in concept and composition. The name “Borgia” (pronounced Bor-jah, with a soft "j") refers to the infamous Renaissance-era Italian family whose legacy is steeped in both political power and scandal. Choosing this name was a calculated and evocative move by Poiret, who delighted in weaving drama, art history, and exoticism into his brand’s identity. Lucrezia Borgia, daughter of Pope Alexander VI, served as the inspiration—an enigmatic woman surrounded by tales of beauty, seduction, poison, and shadowy power. By invoking the Borgia name, Poiret called forth images of dark opulence, courtly intrigue, and dangerous femininity.
The fragrance was launched during the Belle Époque, on the cusp of World War I—a moment in history when the grandeur and excess of the pre-war years had reached their climax. In perfumery, it was an era of experimentation and richness, when perfumers were beginning to combine classical floral elements with new synthetics and daring inspirations. Borgia stood out not only for its unusual concept but for the fact that it was structured around the scent of geranium leaf—a green, sharp, and slightly rosy note, used less frequently as a central theme at the time. It lent the fragrance a crisp freshness, but also a kind of calculated elegance and steeliness, not unlike the legendary figure who inspired it.
The poem commissioned by Poiret’s friend, writer Roger Boutet de Monvel, perfectly captured the perfume’s atmosphere. In his words, Borgia is a “bewitching potion” with an almost supernatural allure. He imagines it hidden in poison rings, spilled in the bodices of Roman ladies, or guarded in a gold ball by Cesare Borgia himself. The implication is clear: this is not a scent for the timid. This is perfume as power—mysterious, intoxicating, and perhaps even a little dangerous. Advertisements hinted at its potency with the line: “One drop drives you crazy.” In an age when women were just beginning to step outside the boundaries of societal expectation, a perfume like Borgia offered both mystique and liberation. It whispered of sensual secrets and feminine autonomy, cloaked in the guise of Renaissance glamour.
Compared to the lighter floral fragrances that still dominated the shelves in the 1910s, Borgia was strikingly bold. Its woodsy, green, and subtly spicy character suggested a personality that was unafraid to be remembered. In scent, the word Borgia could be interpreted as equal parts aristocratic elegance and seductive poison—an olfactory signature for a woman who, like Lucrezia herself, knew how to command attention while guarding her own secrets. It remains one of the most imaginative and narratively rich perfumes of Poiret’s Rosine line—both in name and nature.
Paul Poiret, ever the theatrical impresario of the perfume world, elevated fragrance to narrative art by commissioning his close friend, the writer and dandy Roger Boutet de Monvel, to compose an accompanying poem for Borgia. The resulting prose-poem is as rich and suggestive as the scent itself, casting the perfume not merely as a cosmetic indulgence but as a mythical, almost supernatural elixir whose origins and powers are shrouded in both romance and danger.
The poem conjures up the decadent world of the Italian Renaissance, under the reign of Pope Alexander VI—a time rife with shadowy power plays, seductive rites, and the quiet clink of poison rings. Boutet de Monvel sets the stage with vivid imagery: a knight tipping the contents of his ring to win the heart of the gentle Julie, a cardinal carelessly scattering perfumed dragees into the corsets of Roman noblewomen, resulting in chaos and uncontained desire. These vignettes of seduction and calculated madness blur the line between legend and historical gossip, which was very much the point. Like the Borgia family itself—enshrouded in stories of incest, corruption, and beauty—the poem relishes ambiguity.
The elixir, this mysterious “bewitching potion,” is treated as both relic and riddle. Was it born in Verona or Capua? Did it spring from a Venetian courtesan’s perfumed chamber or a Sicilian witch’s cauldron? The questions themselves become part of the mystique. Boutet de Monvel wisely never answers, only intensifies the allure. And yet, he assures us, Borgia endures, passed down “pure, priceless,” still capable of exerting its irresistible spell. In his closing line—"a single drop will bring complete madness"—he evokes the powerful fantasy of a perfume so potent it can bend reason and unravel restraint.
This poem wasn’t merely an advertisement; it was a narrative weapon in Poiret’s campaign to elevate perfume beyond fashion and into the realm of legend. It enhanced the experience of Borgia—a perfume that was already positioned as darkly aristocratic, dangerous, and enticing—by suggesting it carried within it centuries of whispered intrigue. In a single passage, Boutet de Monvel gave Borgia an imagined lineage and a literary soul.
In a revealing 1934 interview with the St. Louis Dispatch, Paul Poiret offered a rare glimpse into his creative process, one that underscored his refusal to follow convention—whether in fashion or fragrance. “I wanted to extract from the leaves of certain plants perfumes that people up to then had only sought in flowers and roots,” he said. With this statement, Poiret outlined a philosophy that was as botanical as it was bold: to find beauty and olfactory poetry not only in the expected blooms but in the overlooked, green mysteries of foliage and resin.
He cited Borgia—his 1914 creation—as an example of this botanical audacity. Most perfumers of the era clung to jasmine, rose, and iris, but Poiret turned his attention to the verdant, aromatic quality of geranium leaves, crafting a perfume that captured the sharp, slightly minty greenness and soft metallic sparkle of crushed leaf under thumb. This was a fragrance not born in the gardens of Versailles but in the sun-warmed gardens of Provence and in the shadows of half-forgotten herbs. He also spoke of mastic, the resin from the Mediterranean shrub often found in the garrigue—low-growing, aromatic vegetation native to southern France. Combined with balsams harvested from Provençal heaths, Poiret built perfumes rooted in the dry, wind-swept terrain of his native soil, favoring ingredients that smelled of sun, dust, and resin rather than polite florals.
Yet scent was only half of the experience. True to his theatrical spirit, Poiret insisted on visual beauty to match olfactory elegance. He didn’t simply purchase standard perfume bottles—he designed them himself, treating each flacon as a small sculpture. His vision was carried out by expert glassmakers, some of the finest in France, and then decorated by pupils from his own school of decorative arts. These artisans added delicate floral motifs, curling arabesques, and rich colorations, creating containers that were miniature expressions of fantasy and style. These flacons, whether gilded, enameled, or frosted, became part of the story—a jewel box for the mysterious potion within.
Poiret’s statement reflects not only his deep involvement in the entire creative process—from the raw scent materials to the presentation—but also his pioneering spirit. He was unafraid to experiment with unusual botanical sources, to champion the often-ignored olfactory beauty of leaves and resins, and to transform perfume into a total aesthetic experience. In Borgia and beyond, his approach foreshadowed the later evolution of perfumery as both art form and storytelling medium.
Fragrance Composition:
So what does it smell like? Borgia by Rosine is classified as a floral woody fragrance for women. It's composition was based on scent of the geranium leaf. Advertisement in the Rosine catalog says Borgia is "a perfume of mystery, one drop drives you crazy."
- Top notes: aldehyde C-9, aldehyde C-10, Calabrian bergamot, Paraguayan petitgrain, Persian galbanum, Hungarian clary sage, Moroccan cassie, Bourbon rose geranium, Provencal lavender absolute
- Middle notes: Bourbon geranium leaf, Zanzibar carnation, eugenol, Grasse rose, Egyptian jasmine, Nossi-Be ylang ylang, Dutch hyacinth, Tuscan violet leaf absolute, Florentine orris
- Base notes: Colombian tolu balsam, Grecian tree mastic, Turkish storax, Mysore sandalwood, Madagascar vanilla, Spanish labdanum, Venetian ambergris, ambreine, Indonesian patchouli, Tyrolean oakmoss, Atlas cedar, Indian costus root, Siam benzoin, Haitian vetiver, Abyssinian civet, Tonkin musk
Scent Profile:
The fragrance Borgia by Les Parfums de Rosine, launched in 1914, reveals itself as an exquisitely orchestrated floral woody elixir, veiled in shadow and sensuality. The perfume opens with an enigmatic brightness—aldehyde C-9 and C-10, two of the early synthetic molecules used in perfumery, shimmer like polished glass. These waxy-green aldehydes lend a sharp, bracing freshness that mimics crushed stems and cool early morning air. Their crispness enhances the sparkle of Calabrian bergamot, whose sun-drenched citrus oil is prized for its delicately sweet bitterness. From Paraguay, a note of petitgrain—distilled from the twigs and leaves of the bitter orange tree—adds an aromatic greenness, grounding the citrus with a dry herbal bite.
The introduction deepens as Persian galbanum enters with its resinous intensity—green, almost metallic, and slightly bitter. This ancient gum gives structure and lift, adding a piercing, verdant sharpness that nods to antique perfumery. The Hungarian clary sage follows, musky and herbaceous, connecting the aldehydic shimmer to a more grounded floral core. A honeyed breath of Moroccan cassie, with its powdery mimosa-like warmth, lends a golden softness, while Bourbon rose geranium, grown in the Indian Ocean climate of Réunion, sings with a rosy, minty brightness—linking floral and green facets. Provencal lavender absolute, velvety and balsamic rather than harshly medicinal, lingers in the background, reminiscent of herb-strewn countryside air.
At the heart of the perfume lies the lush, aromatic power of Bourbon geranium leaf—a rarefied distillation of the plant’s foliage, green and citrusy with a crushed-leaf freshness that defines Borgia’s signature. Wrapped around this leaf are the piquant petals of Zanzibar carnation, heavy with eugenol, a clove-like compound that brings a flash of spice and warmth. Grasse rose, with its intensely honeyed, deep floral character, blooms at the center, joined by the opulent fruitiness of Egyptian jasmine and the creamy, solar embrace of Nossi-Bé ylang ylang, harvested from Madagascar's northernmost island. A whisper of Dutch hyacinth adds a green, aquatic sharpness. Tuscan violet leaf absolute—earthy, damp, and deeply botanical—interlaces with Florentine orris, whose powdery, suede-like nuance evokes aged roots and pale lipstick. This middle section hums like an enchanted garden where no flower is innocent.
As the perfume dries down, it moves into a darker, more resinous realm. Colombian tolu balsam gives the impression of polished antique furniture and warm skin—it’s sweet, vanilla-like, and slightly cinnamic. Grecian tree mastic offers a piney, mineral sparkle, while Turkish storax adds a licorice-leather density. The sacred woods come next: buttery, creamy Mysore sandalwood, irreplaceable in its warmth and sanctity, blends with soft Madagascar vanilla, deepening into a narcotic warmth. Spanish labdanum adds weight—a leathery, animalic resin used since antiquity—while Venetian ambergris, a treasure of the sea, floats with saline sensuality and diffusion. Synthetic ambreine enhances this, giving radiance and fixative power.
The base finishes with a chiaroscuro of roots, woods, and animalic shadows: Indonesian patchouli, earthy and velvety; Tyrolean oakmoss, forest-dark and mineralic; Atlas cedar, dry and cool like pencil shavings; Indian costus root, rich and animalic with a dirty-iris character. Siam benzoin, sweet and ambered, mingles with smoky Haitian vetiver, while the base is completed with musky whispers of Abyssinian civet and Tonkin musk, true to the perfume’s inspiration—a scent designed to seduce, obsess, and, as the Rosine catalog said, drive one to madness.
Borgia unfolds like an ancestral secret passed through perfumed silk—green leaves, bruised petals, powdered roots, and dark resins bound together by the hand of a perfumer who knew that the most beautiful scents often mask something dangerous beneath.
Pan, 1920:"Still feeling in need of comfort, I went to buy some scent, for a really good perfume, as you know, acts like a balm to the soul, a pick me up to jaded nerves, and is truly worth a guinea a drop, and if you are anything like me, you will not be content to run one special perfume for any length of time, but demand a different scent for every day, for every mood, for every frock, and in Poiret's Rosine creations you can satisfy every need. The bottles are quaintly devised - the scents adorably named.
I tried to decide between "Forbidden Fruit" (the bottle shaped to resemble a golden apple) and smelling like all the orchards in Kent, and slender, gold-flecked exquisitely hand-painted with birds and fishes, containing a spray like the scented mist that clothes that newly awakened dawn; but I eventually carried off "Pierrot," a dainty conceit of frosted glass, with a black stopper, and an impudent-looking Toby-frill round its neck, and a perfume that suggested dimity and apple blossom and a pure and blameless life) so appropriate, you know).
I loved " Borgia," a dreamy, languorous scent and, best of all, the bright little Rosine powder- boxes in their gay coats of flowered chintz."
Borgia "with a single drop it makes one mad, they say, and with the green and red badge on the side of the black case, there appears a viper with a tongue of fire." Each vial of Rosine, explained Nozière, "is a work of art made long to be admired.
Week end: comédie en trois actes - Page 10, 1928:
"Simon (catching her hand and kissing it): "You smell heavenly. What a strange and deep fragrance! What is it?"
Myra. - "Borgia of Rosine"
Simon. - "How appropriate. Borgia! As it suits you!" (He pulls her down and kisses her.)
Myra. - (breaking away)"You're too exuberant today, Simon."
Official Gazette of the United States Patent Office, Volume 610, 1948:
"BORGIA. Registered July 3, 1928. Les Parfums de Rosine, Inc. Renewed July 3, 1948, to Renoir Parfums, Ltd., New York, N. Y., a corporation of New York. TOILET ARTICLES — NAMELY, FACE LOTIONS, FACE CREAMS, FACE POWDERS"
Bottle:
The bottle of Borgia, designed by Georges Dumoulin and produced by the renowned Depinoix glassworks, is a striking symbol of mystery and danger—a perfect match for a perfume steeped in intrigue. Crafted from deep black opaque glass, the bottle is richly adorned with real gold dust inclusions, a technique known as “floating gold.” This exquisite effect was achieved by delicately sprinkling gold dust into the mold while the glass was still molten, creating each bottle as a unique work of art shimmering with glittering gold specks suspended within the glass. This craftsmanship evokes the precious yet perilous nature of poison, aligning perfectly with the perfume’s name and theme.
The flacon is topped with a gilded black ribbed glass stopper that adds texture and elegance, complementing the luxurious black and gold interplay below. The name Borgia is painted horizontally in gold across the front of the bottle, commanding attention with its refined yet ominous presence. Standing at 3.8 inches tall, the bottle’s compact form further intensifies its aura of secrecy and allure.
Encasing this striking bottle is a cylindrical box with a pointed top, enveloped in black paper adorned with a vivid scarlet and gold shield. This emblem features a spitting, coiled venomous snake—a powerful symbol of poison and forbidden danger, reinforcing the perfume’s mystique. The box’s dramatic design not only protects but also heightens the sense of anticipation and seduction before the bottle is even revealed.
This “floating gold” glass technique was not unique to Borgia but was a celebrated method among luxury glassmakers of the era. Both Baccarat and d’Argenteuil produced bottles using this technique, which Georges Dumoulin later revived for the perfume Miracle by Lentheric in 1924, with bottles crafted by both Baccarat and Depinoix. Similarly, d’Argenteuil used this technique for Pépites d’Or by Studia in 1925, and Maubert employed it for Cime d’Or in 1927. The use of floating gold made these bottles not only containers for fragrance but coveted objets d’art—each one shimmering with a golden mystery that captured the imagination of perfume lovers and collectors alike.
Eau de Toilette flacon
Fate of the Fragrance:
Launched in 1914, Borgia quickly became one of Les Parfums de Rosine’s most enigmatic and celebrated fragrances. Its release coincided with a period of great artistic and cultural innovation, yet the perfume’s dark allure and mysterious inspiration set it apart as something truly unique in the early 20th-century perfume landscape. Despite its popularity and distinctive character, Borgia was discontinued in 1930 when Les Parfums de Rosine ceased operations amid the economic difficulties of the era.
Even after the official discontinuation, old store stock of Borgia continued to be sold into 1931, allowing loyal customers and collectors a final opportunity to acquire this rare fragrance. Today, the perfume’s historical significance and evocative story continue to captivate collectors, serving as a testament to Paul Poiret’s visionary approach to scent and design during the golden age of French perfumery.
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