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.