Hahna by Rosine, launched in 1919, occupies a delicate space between exotic fantasy and modern olfactory storytelling. The name “Hahna” is thought to be a stylized interpretation of the Japanese word hana (花), meaning “flower.” It's pronounced “HAH-nah.” Though the spelling is Frenchified, the word evokes a sense of East Asian delicacy and mystery—an exoticism that fascinated European fashion and perfume circles at the time. It conjures images of distant gardens, moonlit water lilies, and veiled courtyards rich with the scent of uncommon blossoms.
Poiret’s choice of name, and the dual subtitles “L’Étrange Fleur” (The Strange Flower) and later “La Fleur Secrète” (The Secret Flower), point to the fantasy-driven Orientalism that permeated postwar French design. In the aftermath of World War I, 1919 marked the start of Les Années Folles—the French equivalent of the Roaring Twenties—a period of cultural reinvention and luxurious escapism. Women were emerging from the austerity of wartime, embracing shorter skirts, bobbed hair, and modern freedom. Perfume, like fashion, turned outward toward the exotic: distant lands, mystical flora, and sensual freedom. Poiret, long a proponent of Eastern influences in fashion and fragrance, capitalized on this sensibility.
Created by Henri Alméras, Hahna was classified as a green floral oriental—a unique hybrid for the period. While many perfumes of the early 20th century leaned toward either powdery florals or heavy orientals, Hahna floated somewhere between: fresh, luminous, and green, yet underscored by sensuality. A 1924 Rosine advertisement described it evocatively: “The perfume of damp mosses, of early blooms and shoots unfolding, near the bright waters amongst the mint and thyme. One dreams of the early awakening of spring, the buoyant dash and brilliance of the first fine days.” The fantasy deepens with the mention of ylang ylang or enchanted lotus, likened to a blossom from The Thousand & One Nights—adding a magical, mythical layer to the composition.
For the women of the era, a perfume like Hahna would have symbolized mystery and femininity untamed by convention. It was described as light and youthful, “a blending of many flowers,” suggesting it was marketed to modern young women—those stepping away from Victorian rigidity and toward personal expression through scent. In the context of its time, Hahna was a distinctive creation. It didn’t simply follow the floral or chypre trends popular in the 1910s and 1920s—it fused elements of both, offering a fresh narrative grounded in poetic imagery, global references, and a reverence for nature’s more elusive blooms.
Rosine advertisement, 1924:
"Parfum d'Hahna, L'Etrange Fleur. The perfume of damp mosses, of early blooms and shoots unfolding, near the bright waters amongst the mint and thyme. One dreams of the early awakening of spring, the buoyant dash and brilliance of the first fine days. A selection of Poiret's from the Parfums Rosine."
Scent Profile:
To experience Hahna by Rosine is to be led gently through a verdant spring garden that borders on fantasy—its air dewy with early growth, sweet blossoms, and the soft exhalation of warm, resinous woods. Described as “a light fragrance... well suited to the younger person,” Hahna opens with an exuberant green sparkle—bright, almost effervescent—yet soon reveals a complexity suggestive of faraway lands and exotic tales. This is a perfume that unfolds like a secret, petal by petal, from the cool morning of a garden to the warm hush of dusk in the East.
The top notes greet the nose with a symphony of fresh green and citrus facets, led by aldehyde C-6—a sharp, almost grassy molecule that smells like freshly snapped stems, lending a crisp clarity and a flash of clean brightness. This crispness is echoed in the green note accord, likely built with hexanal and cis-3-hexenol, evoking crushed leaves and dewy lawns. The vibrant oils of Calabrian bergamot, Amalfi lemon, and Seville sweet orange create a tart citrus medley, bright and zesty but not sweet—grounded by Paraguayan petitgrain, distilled from the bitter orange tree’s leaves and twigs, adding a woody bitterness and herbaceous depth. From the East, a tender Chinese lotus accord blooms—a watery floral note that feels both serene and opaque, carrying hints of rice water and moonlit ponds.
Aromatic green herbs wind through the opening, with the dusky breath of Persian galbanum—a resin so green it nearly bites, sharp and vegetal, grounding the brightness with a raw, earthy presence. Mediterranean thyme adds an herbaceous dryness while Moroccan mint sparkles with coolness, refreshing but not overwhelming. These naturalistic accords are rounded and lifted by linalool and linalyl acetate—naturally occurring in lavender and citrus, but added here for their floral brightness and diffusiveness, enhancing both the citrus and floral components with smooth transparency.
As the perfume deepens into the heart, the flowers bloom in layered profusion. Grasse jasmine absolute brings a narcotic sweetness, tinged with indole, while Grasse rose de mai absolute contributes a dewy, honeyed richness that harmonizes with the fruitier top notes. These natural absolutes are softened by phenylethyl alcohol, a synthetic rose alcohol that adds a mild, green floral nuance without heaviness. Tunisian orange blossom absolute lends a radiant white floralcy, creamy and waxen, which bridges into the creamy, tropical languor of Portuguese tuberose absolute.
A spicy undercurrent gives the floral heart its intrigue: French carnation absolute, spiced and peppery with its eugenol content, dances with Zanzibar clove bud oil, Ceylon cinnamon leaf oil, and Jamaican nutmeg oil—a warm trio that adds both contrast and depth. Their presence makes the floral core feel more alive, as if heated from within. Accents of honeysuckle accord and lily of the valley (likely achieved with hydroxycitronellal) bring freshness and light, offering a translucent veil over the more opulent notes. The green floral tone continues with Tuscan violet leaf, which is sharp, cool, and ozonic—balancing the headiness—and a whisper of mignonette, a tender, soft floral note rare in modern perfumery, known for its gentle, greenish floral sweetness.
As Hahna settles into its base, the fragrance becomes increasingly warm, sensual, and gently tenacious. Madagascar vanilla is rich and slightly smoky, enveloped in the soft leather of Spanish labdanum and the earthy shadow of Austrian oakmoss. Ambergris, in its natural form, brings a warm, marine, slightly animalic sheen that makes the whole composition feel luminous and diffusive. Its glow is supported by the delicate muskiness of Indian ambrette seed, vegetal and powdery, and Tibetan musk—likely a tincture or an animalic accord—lending body and sensuality.
The drydown deepens with woody and balsamic tones: Mysore sandalwood, the most prized variety, offers a creamy, sweet, milky-woody backbone, made warmer by Siam benzoin and Levantine styrax, both sweet resins with balsamic and slightly smoky undertones. Haitian vetiver, green and rooty, grounds the sweetness with its dry, earthy bitterness, balanced by the smoother vetiveryl acetate, which softens vetiver's intensity into something rounded and wearable. Venezuelan tonka bean and coumarin provide a powdery, almond-like sweetness, while the shadows of civet and castoreum flicker in the distance—warm, animalic base notes used in traces to amplify the sillage and sensuality of the composition.
In total, Hahna wears like the dream of a secret garden at dawn—verdant, floral, faintly spiced, and shimmering with resinous warmth. It carries the emotional lift of spring’s first blooms and the fantasy of something far older, drawn from a world of fairy tales and far-off palaces. In the language of scent, Hahna speaks of awakening, mystery, and quiet enchantment.
In 1927, La Revue des Marques de la Parfumerie et de la Savonnerie captured the spirit and success of Les Parfums de Rosine with reverent admiration, noting the house's rise over "fifteen springs" into one of the most distinguished Parisian perfumeries. What began as an artistic endeavor under the direction of couturier Paul Poiret had, by 1925, evolved into a formally independent enterprise—an industrial and commercial response to the growing demand for its fragrances. While the company was restructured, Poiret remained at its creative helm, contributing his unmistakable artistic sensibility and refined taste to each new olfactory creation.
The publication emphasizes that every Rosine fragrance represented not just a perfume, but a success—an aesthetic and emotional triumph. Citing notable creations such as Nuit de Chine, Toute la Forêt, Qui êtes-vous?, Avenue du Bois, Hahna (subtitled The Secret Flower), Arlequinade, and Maharadjah, the piece underscores the originality and luxury of both the scents and their presentations. Each perfume was imagined as a complete experience—visually distinctive, emotionally resonant, and evocative of a world shaped by Poiret's theatrical flair.
The review concludes with a bold yet telling statement: “No woman today is insensitive to Parfums de Rosine.” In this, we see the brand's impact not only on fragrance design but on the modern woman’s relationship to scent. Rosine perfumes were not simply accessories—they were expressions of individuality, fantasy, sensuality, and fashion. At a time when perfumery was still defining its modern identity, Les Parfums de Rosine stood out as a house that dared to surprise, delight, and stir emotion through every bottle.
Bottles:
The presentation of Hahna by Les Parfums de Rosine was as evocative and carefully considered as the fragrance itself, underscoring Paul Poiret's fusion of perfumery with haute couture artistry. This perfume came in several sizes, tailored to suit both the discerning collector and the casual enthusiast: a delicate ½ oz bottle, a slightly larger ¾ oz version, and a luxurious deluxe edition holding 1 ⅔ oz. Each was crafted to be as visually appealing as the scent it held, offering a tactile sense of exoticism and elegance.
The standard flacon was a square-shaped clear crystal bottle, refined in its form yet richly detailed. Molded floral motifs adorned the glass, artfully treated with a reserve finish that left the blossoms frosted in soft relief against the smooth, transparent body—an interplay of texture and light that gave the impression of dew-covered petals caught in morning mist. The bottle was crowned with a striking red Bakelite cap, carefully fashioned to resemble a piece of polished red coral, lending an Eastern flair and nodding to Poiret’s fascination with the aesthetics of the Far East.
This bottle was nestled inside a square presentation box, sheathed in coral-hued chromolithographed paper printed with stylized Japanese floral motifs and false ideograms. The gold-gilded paper shimmered subtly under the light, evoking the lacquered finish of a Chinese jewelry box or an Edo-period screen. Inside, the perfume flacon rested in a bed of white satin—a fitting contrast to the vivid exterior and a luxurious cradle for the bottle. The design spoke not just to wealth or beauty, but to an entire world of fantasy and distant lands, aligned with Poiret’s love for Orientalist themes.
As described in the Oregon News in 1920: “Hahna, L’Etrange Fleur, Rosine, Paris, France,” says a flagon of gold and red and this same ‘strange flower’ is in a Chinese kind of box of lacquered gold with flower decorations.” That journalistic description affirms the exoticism and allure of the packaging, which was as much a part of the fragrance's identity as the scent itself. Like a rare bloom pressed between silk pages, Hahna was presented not simply as a perfume, but as a treasured object—delightfully mysterious, unmistakably luxurious, and entirely in keeping with the romantic escapism of the 1920s.
The deluxe edition of Hahna by Les Parfums de Rosine exemplified the luxurious and theatrical spirit Paul Poiret infused into all his creations. While the standard version came in clear crystal with frosted floral reliefs, this elevated presentation featured a square-shaped flacon crafted from either silvered metal or gold-toned biscuit, gleaming with a subtle metallic luster. The bottle was decorated in reserve with a delicate pattern of stamped flowers, giving the surface a sense of ornate texture and visual movement, much like a pressed brocade or repoussé panel. The result was not only a perfume bottle, but an objet d’art—a tactile embodiment of Poiret’s opulent aesthetic.
Despite the change in material, the bottle form mirrored that of the crystal edition, preserving the square silhouette and rounded shoulders that gave it a balanced, architectural presence. It retained the striking red Bakelite cap, fashioned to resemble polished coral, offering a vivid contrast to the gilded or silvery body. This exotic detail echoed the perfume’s subtitle L’Étrange Fleur—“The Strange Flower”—hinting at faraway lands and mysterious blooms. The entire presentation stood approximately 8.5 cm tall, compact but radiant in presence.
Contemporary advertisements captured the allure of the perfume and its exquisite flacon. As reported by The Gazette Times in 1924:
“Paris sends us these alluring perfumes, created by Rosine, a master perfumer. Only French genius can produce such distinctive odeurs, contained in artistic flasks, charmingly packaged... Arlequinade, in gold decorated flask, with red tassel. $25. Hahna, L’Etrange Fleur in a gold finished bottle. $22.”
Such descriptions underline how Poiret’s perfumes were positioned as luxury objects, accessible yet exclusive—French fashion and fantasy captured in a bottle.
This deluxe bottle would have been cherished not only for its contents, but for the elegant craftsmanship of its design. It reflected the convergence of Art Deco sophistication, Japonisme, and theatrical flair—trademarks of Poiret’s work. With its golden finish and stylized floral motifs, the bottle echoed the perfume’s green floral oriental character and its romantic theme of “the secret flower,” conjuring mystery and springtime in equal measure.
Hahna was also presented in a standard omnibus flacon that was used for other Rosine fragrances. It was a less expensive version, made up of clear crystal and fitted with a green glass button stopper. The red paper label is identical to the one used on the other Hahna bottles. These perfume bottles were produced by French glass manufacturer Lefebure.
In a glowing 1927 tribute titled La parfumerie française et l'art dans la présentation, the world of Les Parfums de Rosine was framed not merely as a perfumery, but as a poetic and sensorial universe shaped by Paul Poiret’s artistic genius. The article opens with a reflection on the name “Rosine”—so delicate, so perfectly suited to a house devoted to fragrance. Born of the rose, queen of flowers, Rosine was also the name of Poiret’s daughter, and her name became the symbol for a perfume line that would, fittingly, elevate the most feminine and ethereal aspects of scent. One could almost imagine, the writer muses, that Poiret designed his daughter and the house of Rosine with the same aesthetic hand, each as an extension of the other.
The article marvels at how, after reshaping the silhouette of women’s fashion with his revolutionary garments, Poiret turned his talents toward perfume. He brought with him a painter’s eye and a poet’s instinct, understanding instinctively that “perfumes, colors and tones respond to each other.” Even the catalog of Les Parfums de Rosine is described as a work of art—each perfume a story, every name an invitation to dream. To read it, the author insists, is to step into a world of romance and imagination.
Le Minaret is described as transporting the wearer into a harem, with its Turkish-styled casing and the languid sensuality of silken cushions and sultanas in repose. Toute la Forêt evokes deep woodlands alive with damp moss, mushrooms, and the earthy chase of mythic fauns and nymphs. La Nuit de Chine offers intrigue—a “troubling and topical problem” awaiting discovery, while Borgia conjures Venetian nights filled with passion, crime, and drama, still scented with night-blooming flowers and ancient tapestries. Le Fruit Défendu—The Forbidden Fruit—needs no explanation; its psychological allure is immediate and timeless, calling out to every woman with the whispered promise of mystery and indulgence.
No matter the name—be it Hahna, l’Étrange Fleur, Bosquet d’Apollo, Antinea, or Arlequinade—the author assures readers that the perfumes are composed with “the most fragrant flowers, the most delicate balms,” each one meant to draw the wearer into a reverie, a dream where the senses are sweetly overcome.
The article concludes with a nod to the Rosine factory itself, praised for its cutting-edge equipment and modernity. But more than machinery, what sets Rosine apart is its vision—one in which fragrance, bottle, name, and story all unite in perfect harmony. Each perfume is not just worn; it is experienced. It is this union of art, scent, and storytelling that made Rosine, in the eyes of 1920s Paris, not just a perfumery, but a dream factory for the senses.
Fate of the Fragrance:
Launched in 1919, Hahna by Les Parfums de Rosine was one of Paul Poiret’s more poetic and enigmatic creations. Subtitled both L’Étrange Fleur (“The Strange Flower”) and later La Fleur Secrète (“The Secret Flower”), it offered an imaginative olfactory portrait of an otherworldly bloom—a fragrance described as evoking early spring shoots near mint-scented waters, steeped in the freshness of thyme and unfolding petals. It reflected not just the exoticism and fantasy that defined Poiret’s design language, but also his deep interest in storytelling through scent.
Although Hahna was initially well received, like many perfumes in Rosine’s catalog, it eventually fell victim to the financial difficulties the company faced as the decade progressed. When Les Parfums de Rosine ceased operations in 1930, Hahna—along with many other fragrances—was discontinued. Yet, the stock that remained was not discarded. Instead, it was sold at significantly reduced prices, making once-luxurious scents more accessible to a wider audience. These discounted bottles continued to circulate through department stores and specialty shops throughout the 1930s. Records indicate that even as late as 1940, consumers could still find Hahna on shelves, a delicate echo of the fragrance’s former prestige.
These clearance sales marked the final chapter for Hahna, whose legacy now survives primarily through its exquisite bottle designs, advertisements, and poetic descriptions found in period publications. It remains a fragrant relic of the Rosine house’s golden years—one of those rare perfumes that managed to blend modern artistry with timeless dreamscape.
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