Arlequinade (1919)

Arlequinade by Les Parfums de Rosine was launched in 1919, a moment when the world was reawakening from the trauma of the First World War and throwing itself into the glittering, decadent energy of the Jazz Age. This was a time marked by bold artistic experimentation, theatricality, and a longing to escape through fantasy, color, and movement. The name Arlequinade, pronounced “ar-leh-kee-NAHD” in French, was perfectly in step with the spirit of the age. It refers to a comic interlude or short pantomime performance featuring the character Harlequin—Arlequin in French—a mischievous, nimble figure from the Italian commedia dell’arte, whose colorful diamond-patterned costume and clever antics had become symbols of playful seduction and theatrical wit.

Paul Poiret, always drawn to the stage, pageantry, and the reimagining of history, chose the name Arlequinade with theatrical flair. It conjured a world of masked balls, painted faces, and the whimsical performances that delighted audiences across Europe. Harlequin, the archetypal trickster and romantic suitor, embodied the flirtatious and mysterious mood Poiret adored. To wear a perfume named Arlequinade in 1919 was to embrace a flirtatious elegance, to cloak oneself in an air of playful intrigue—perfect for the modern woman who rejected the rigid rules of the Edwardian past and welcomed the freedom of the 1920s.

The scent itself mirrored the idea of performance and transformation. Created by the brilliant perfumer Henri Alméras, Arlequinade was classified as a piquant, woody floral amber fragrance for women, deliberately crafted to be as multifaceted and elusive as the Harlequin character. The heart of the fragrance was dominated by spicy carnation, its clove-like fire softened by a bouquet of powdery white flowers, all resting on a warm, animalic base. The composition was built around a rare material called Opoponax LG, a specialty resin accord produced by Givaudan, which lent a velvety, balsamic warmth—rich, sweet, and faintly medicinal—that anchored the perfume in luxurious depth.

What made Arlequinade even more distinctive for its time was the inclusion of aldehyde C-12 MNA, a synthetic material that gave the perfume a fresh, waxy, almost sea-breeze-like top note, mingling citrus, tuberose, amber, and a hint of moss. Though the dosage was subtle, it added a modern lift to the spiced florals and animalic undertones. The aldehyde also helped to abstract the natural ingredients, giving the whole perfume a more shimmering and “perfumed” quality, rather than a direct replication of flowers.

Advertised as “a spicy carnation on a background of Venetian amber,” Arlequinade was intended for the woman who was both piquant and elegant, mysterious and playful. A 1928 description noted it was ideal “for the piquant type, with rather dark hair and gray-green eyes”—a woman of contrasts, not unlike the Harlequin himself. The comparison to “old-fashioned velvety petunias mixed with other garden flowers” further emphasized the blend of nostalgic softness and bold theatricality. In a market increasingly filled with aldehydic florals, powdery bouquets, and exotic orientals, Arlequinade stood out for its slightly peppery sparkle, its warm animalic base, and its witty, flirtatious character.

In the context of other fragrances on the market at the time, Arlequinade was both in harmony with the growing trend of oriental-spicy florals and strikingly individual in its execution. While Coty’s L’Origan and Houbigant’s Quelques Fleurs offered lush floral fantasies, Arlequinade danced into view like a costumed figure in a masked ball—unmistakable, daring, and utterly captivating.

Paul Poiret, ever attuned to the cultural currents swirling through early 20th-century Paris, drew significant inspiration from Cubism, the avant-garde artistic movement that shattered traditional perspective and reassembled it into bold geometric forms. This modernist sensibility resonated deeply with Poiret’s own desire to liberate fashion from the rigid, corseted silhouettes of the Belle Époque. For Arlequinade, a perfume released in 1919, Poiret found particular inspiration in the figure of Harlequin, a recurring subject in Cubist painting—most famously in the works of Pablo Picasso.

Picasso’s Harlequin, often rendered in fractured planes of color, was not just a character from the commedia dell’arte but a symbol of duality: joy and sorrow, mask and identity, artist and clown. These layered meanings appealed to Poiret, who saw fashion and fragrance as forms of theatrical transformation. In his couture and in Arlequinade, he channeled this play between surface and depth, illusion and essence. The angular lines and jewel-like colors of Picasso’s Harlequin costumes echoed in Poiret’s own fashion sketches and in the lively, multifaceted character of Arlequinade’s scent—a piquant and peppery floral warmed by amber, powdered spice, and a hint of mischief.

Simultaneously, Poiret was influenced by the dramatic revival of commedia dell’arte motifs in music, particularly in the ballets of the Ballets Russes and the compositions of Igor Stravinsky. Works like Pulcinella (1919–20), which Stravinsky composed shortly after World War I, reimagined the comic stock characters of the Italian theatrical tradition through a modernist musical lens. Stravinsky’s playful dissonances and rhythmic ingenuity mirrored the stylistic daring Poiret pursued in scent and fashion alike. Just as Stravinsky’s music recomposed the familiar into something fresh and provocative, Poiret’s Arlequinade reinterpreted the classic carnation floral into a spirited, enigmatic scent that was both nostalgic and strikingly contemporary.

In this way, Arlequinade became more than just a perfume—it was a distillation of an era’s fascination with transformation, performance, and the vivid pulse of modern art. It stood at the intersection of Cubist abstraction, theatrical tradition, and olfactory imagination, revealing Poiret’s genius for turning visual and musical inspiration into scented form.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Arlequinade by Rosine is classified as a piquant, woody floral amber fragrance for women. It was composed up of spicy notes of carnation, powdery white flowers, on an animalic base. It had an unusual base known as "Opoponax LG", manufactured by Givaudan. Arlequinade also had a low level of the C-12 MNA aldehyde which gave it facets of fresh amber, aldehydes, moss, citrus, tuberose, metallic, waxy, and coumarin.  It was advertised as "a spicy carnation on a background of Venetian amber" and "spicy, elegant, light, peppery, seductive, that's Harlequin." It was described in 1928 as "for the piquant type, with rather dark hair and gray green eyes, an intriguing blend which has the rare spicy sweet fragrance of old fashioned, velvety petunias mixed with other garden flowers."

• Top notes: aldehyde C-12 MNA, aldehyde C-10, Calabrian bergamot, Sicilian lemon, Tunisian neroli, West Indian pimento berry, Chinese hibiscus, petunia accord
• Middle notes: Indian carnation, Zanzibar clove, Vietnamese cinnamon, Jamaican nutmeg, Ceylon cardamom, isoeugenol, Riviera jasmine, Bulgarian rose, orange blossom, Grasse tuberose, Manila ylang ylang , heliotropin, Tuscan violet leaf, orchid accord 
• Base notes: Florentine orris, Tyrolean oakmoss, Sudanese myrrh, Maltese labdanum, Somali opoponax, Venetian ambergris, Tibetan musk, Abyssinian civet, Canadian castoreum, Mysore sandalwood, Atlas cedar, Indonesian patchouli, Venezuelan tonka bean, Siam benzoin, coumarin

Scent Profile:

To experience Arlequinade by Rosine is to step into a theatrical dream—a colorful, sensual masquerade brought to life in scent. This 1919 composition opens not with subtlety but with a charming fanfare. The top notes are lively, bright, and slightly mischievous. You are first met with the clean, waxy shimmer of aldehyde C-12 MNA, whose metallic sparkle evokes cool linen and hints of sea air. It lifts the bouquet and gives a diffusive glow that echoes the sheen of silk costumes on a stage. Paired with aldehyde C-10, a citrusy-waxy aldehyde, it brings softness to the brilliance—like a lemon-scented powder puff floating in the air.

Then comes a wave of Calabrian bergamot and Sicilian lemon, sunlit and zesty, their oils extracted from fruits grown in the rich southern Italian soil. These citruses lend elegance—clean, bitter-edged, and refined—while Tunisian neroli adds a delicate green-white floralcy, like orange blossom with a tart bite. As the aldehydes settle, a soft spice begins to warm through: West Indian pimento berry, fruity, clove-like and peppery, builds a bridge into the floral heart. Chinese hibiscus, more symbolic than pungent, provides a tropical brightness, while the petunia accord—a stylized creation of heliotropin, violet, and coumarin—introduces a plush, nostalgic sweetness. It’s velvety, powdery, and hauntingly soft, a nod to gardens at dusk.

At the heart of Arlequinade is its drama—Indian carnation bursts forward with its peppery clove-like heat, enhanced by Zanzibar clove and Vietnamese cinnamon, which lend resinous warmth and a spicy-sweet shimmer. Jamaican nutmeg introduces a creamy, almost woody heat, while Ceylon cardamom brings a green, camphoraceous breeze through the bouquet. These spices aren't sharp; they are diffused, softened by floral warmth. Isoeugenol, a synthetic cousin of eugenol found in clove, deepens the carnation effect and gives it greater tenacity. It creates a full-bodied warmth that feels both intimate and refined.

Then comes a cascade of flowers: Riviera jasmine and Bulgarian rose—sweet, honeyed, opulent—tempered by airy orange blossom and creamy, exotic Manila ylang ylang. Grasse tuberose—rich, narcotic, and slightly green—wraps around a whisper of orchid accord, an early fantasy floral likely composed of violet leaf, heliotropin, and soft aldehydes. Tuscan violet leaf lends a metallic-green facet, while heliotropin (also known as piperonal) imparts a cherry-almond sweetness that amplifies the petunia illusion.

As the fragrance deepens, the base becomes the stage curtain—heavy, plush, animalic, and rich. Florentine orris, powdery and buttery, combines with Tyrolean oakmoss to create a forest-floor effect: earthy, dry, slightly leathery. Sudanese myrrh and Somali opoponax bring balsamic, slightly bitter resins that give the base its twilight depth. Maltese labdanum offers a leathery, amber warmth—sticky, sweet, and smoky—and when paired with Venetian ambergris, the result is shimmering and marine, yet intimate and salty. Tibetan musk, Abyssinian civet, and Canadian castoreum lend an unmistakably animalic quality—seductive and raw—tempered with grace and smoothness.

Supporting these animalics are the woods and sweetened resins: Mysore sandalwood, creamy and milky, nestles with Atlas cedar, dry and resinous. Indonesian patchouli grounds the base with its earthy richness, while Venezuelan tonka bean and coumarin add a sweet, hay-like finish that smooths over the stronger animalics. Siam benzoin, warm and vanillic, rounds everything into a final whisper of comfort—reminiscent of skin, powdered and glowing.

The result is a fragrance that feels like a vintage theatrical costume: spiced with stories, softened with time, and alive with personality. Arlequinade dances between piquant spice, velvet petals, and carnal depth. It's a perfume that hints at laughter, mystery, and intrigue—at once playful and sensual, just like its namesake from the Commedia dell’Arte. It does not merely recall the past; it performs it.

The Gazette Times - Oct 26, 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."

Bottles:

The bottle for Arlequinade by Rosine was a playful, theatrical marvel—just as fanciful and characterful as the fragrance it housed. Directly inspired by a harlequin costume created by avant-garde artist Marie Vasilyeff, the flacon brought to life the spirit of the commedia dell’arte, channeling both whimsy and elegance. The design was entrusted to renowned bottle sculptor Julien Viard, whose vision merged the geometric boldness of Cubism with the performative flair of the Harlequin character.

Gilded triangles—alternating in gleam and shadow—adorned all four sides of the bottle, creating a rhythmic, diamond-like harlequin pattern reminiscent of a stage costume. These motifs weren’t merely decorative; they captured the essence of movement and spectacle, evoking the glittering jester’s tunic flickering under the lights of an early 20th-century Parisian theater. Standing at 6 inches tall, the flacon conveyed presence and poise—tall, slender, and stylishly modern for its time.

Crowning the bottle was a clever nod to character costuming: a black Bakelite stopper molded in the shape of a tricorne hat, a clear reference to Harlequin’s theatrical headwear. The choice of Bakelite, a fashionable and innovative material in the 1920s, added a touch of modernity to the otherwise classical silhouette. The contrast of glossy black against the gilded glass further emphasized the bottle's dramatic flair.

Affixed to the front of the bottle was a small triangular red paper label, printed in stark black ink—its angular form echoing the diamond pattern of the flacon itself. This bold label, minimal yet striking, enhanced the overall visual rhythm of the presentation.

In 1924, Arlequinade was priced at $25—a significant sum at the time, firmly situating it among the more luxurious and exclusive perfumes of the era. More than a fragrance bottle, it was a sculptural object, a collector’s treasure that conveyed wit, fantasy, and refined theatricality. Through this bottle, Poiret and Rosine brought to life a perfume that was not just worn, but performed.

Fate of the Fragrances:

Arlequinade by Rosine remained part of the house’s perfume portfolio well into the late 1920s, attesting to its popularity and lasting appeal among consumers of the time. It was still actively being sold in 1929, as documented in a volume of the Official Journal: Body of the Provisional Government of Mexico, which listed Arlequinade alongside other celebrated Rosine creations such as Ambre de Venise, Aladin, Chez Poiret, Le Bosquet d’Apollon, Nuit de Chine, and Toute la Forêt. This inclusion indicates not only its international availability but also the breadth and ambition of Poiret’s perfume empire during its final years.

By 1930, however, Les Parfums de Rosine succumbed to the financial pressures of the changing economic landscape and officially ceased operations. The house’s closure marked the end of a bold and artistically driven chapter in early 20th-century perfumery. Remaining stock of Rosine perfumes, including Arlequinade, was subsequently liquidated at drastically reduced prices—a bittersweet finale to a brand once celebrated for its artistic innovation, theatrical packaging, and avant-garde scent compositions.

Despite its discontinuation, Arlequinade endures in memory as one of the more imaginative and distinctive perfumes of its time, capturing the vivacity of a post-war cultural renaissance, the daring of Cubist art, and the dreamlike extravagance of Poiret’s vision. Today, surviving bottles are cherished by collectors not only for their rare and elaborate presentation but for what they represent: the height of perfume as a gesamtkunstwerk—a total work of art.

Toute La Foret (1911)

Launched in 1911 by Paul Poiret’s perfume house Rosine, Toute La Forêt—which translates from French as “The Whole Forest” (pronounced “toot lah for-ay”)—is a fragrance that captures more than a scent: it encapsulates a moment, a place, and a mood. The name alone evokes a complete immersion into nature, an olfactory painting of the woods rendered in rich, impressionistic strokes. It is a name that stirs images of dew-laced ferns, rustling leaves underfoot, the faint sweetness of blossoms just budding in springtime, and the cool, earthy hush of dawn deep within the trees.

Poiret chose this evocative name to reference the forest of Fontainebleau, located just southeast of Paris. Fontainebleau was a beloved retreat for artists and aristocrats alike, famed for its royal château and expansive woodlands. It had long inspired painters of the Barbizon School, and now, under Poiret’s vision, it inspired perfume. For Poiret, who was redefining the way women dressed—releasing them from corsets and into fluid silhouettes—it made sense to offer a fragrance to match that freedom. Toute La Forêt was meant to be worn with the new garments of ease and movement, particularly sportswear. Yet, the fragrance’s green, woody character—so grounded in nature—also suggested an androgynous elegance that would appeal to men as well.

When the perfume launched, Europe was on the cusp of immense transformation. The Belle Époque, marked by artistic flourishing, lavish living, and rapid innovation, was nearing its end. World War I loomed just three years away. Fashion was becoming more practical, influenced by a growing desire for comfort and functionality. In perfumery, heavy orientals and overly romantic florals still dominated, but new green and fougère styles were emerging. Toute La Forêt was notably ahead of its time, eschewing opulence in favor of clarity and grounded freshness.

Nuit Persane (1911) and Nuit de Chine (1912)

Nuit Persane by Rosine was launched in 1911.

Paul Poiret invited his friends and the well to do Parisians to his extravagant parties. These parties were inspired by the opulence of the Orient. Paul Poiret reveals his idea in his 1930 memoir "It was on returning from a Bal des Quat'z-Arts [a very famous annual ball in Paris], in May 1911 I believe, that I decided upon an unforgettable party in my lounges and gardens in Paris which I called "The Thousand and Second Night". I'd gathered together several artists and I placed my means at their disposal to put together an ensemble that nobody had ever created before that time."

His first party, jointly inspired by the book A Thousand and One Nights and the Leon Bakst costume designs for the opera Scheherazade that performed a year earlier, was christened “la mille et deuxième nuit” (The Thousand and Second Night), and was held on June 24, 1911. Its theme was all things Persian with a seductive nod towards the secluded fantasies and interludes of a sultan's harem. "The antique Orient is a mine of information to me," said Poiret. Poiret had an affinity with all things Eastern, claiming to have been a Persian prince in a previous life.

The exclusive ball was held at Poiret's grand late 18th century mansion, formerly known as Hôtel du Gouverneur des Pages, located on at 26 avenue d'Antin. The property stood on a roughly triangular piece of land on the Right Bank of Paris that bordered on the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore, the rue de la Boetie, the avenue d'Antin, and the rue du Colisee. At 26, avenue d'Antin, Paul Poiret used both as his personal home and the headquarters of his couture business. Poiret also owned a smaller but very covetable space in back of his great house. Its garden faced onto the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore, which then as now was a particularly elegant street. (Poiret's home at 26 avenue d'Antin with its garden were destroyed in 1925 and replaced by a modern building, the seat of the Scalbert-Dupont bank, today it houses the Banque Transatlantique). 

His mansion was transformed into the Palace of Abadan, during the party, its expansive gardens were illuminated with the glow from pierced hanging lanterns, scented by a mixture of its lush flora and the heady incense smoldering in brass braziers. 

At dawn, improvised slaves unrolled carpets on the gravel pathways, in front of the monumental steps, and a Persian "priest" named Andre Segonzac, on his knees, bare forehead, bare arms, gave the signal for the worship of the sun. Roger de la Fresnaye, to get ready to do the same, proceeded, as a good Ismaili Muslim - his impeccable suit had been lent by Mardrus - to dip his feet and hands in a gushing fountain among the rosebushes in the center of the lawn . Poiret admired such perfect knowledge of his role. He asked, "Why Ismaili?" Mardrus said "Because Ismailis can drink wine."

 

Also added to create the theme of a Persian harem, were colorful exotic tents laden with plush Oriental carpets and comfortable low divans with plenty of cushions and pillows strewn inside. The garden with its tall latticework, overflowed with its evergreen shrubbery, cool marble steps, elegant statues and sparkling water fountains. Poiret bragged that a bust in his garden was taken from the ancient ruins of Pompeii, and described it as "at first glance it seems but a block of marble, but it seems to become a magnificently healthy young woman, among the study of details. I note the marvelous back, the rounded shoulders, and the perfect torso."

The verdant atmosphere was filled with the sights and sounds of tropical birds fluttering overhead such as multicolored parrots and Arabian bulbul, a type of sparrow. Furiously intended to be exclusive and enviably private, Poiret mentions in his 1930 memoir En habillant l'époque, that "the house was closed off by tapestries, so that those looking in from the street couldn't see through into it." Years later, Poiret sadly reminisced in his memoir, that "these fêtes, in which I gathered together all my friends, did me a great deal of harm among my enemies, and raised against me those who had not the good fortune to be admitted to them."

Those lucky enough to be invited to the fete received beautiful invitations comprised up of two different elements, each hand made by Poiret's friends. First to be given was a programme, featuring a wood blocked print which was painstakingly engraved by celebrated artist Raoul Dufy. 

Each of the three hundred copies of this programme was accented with gouache hand decorated by the painter himself, in effect, causing each programme to become a one of a kind art piece. In his memoir, he shows us an example "Here I provide a copy of the programme, which will better explain the means I used to fire their imaginations. The artists, stimulated by this document, were all keen to reply to my appeal in a flattering manner, which is what created the marvelous situation which I shall tell you all about!" The programme and its text translated from French is as follows:

"And this will be the Thousand and Second Night. And on this particular night there won't be any clouds in the sky and nothing of what exists will exist. There will be the lights & perfumes & flutes and timpani & drums of the women's sighs & the birdsong of the Bulbul. Straight and in a single casting like the Aleph letter, slender & flexible like the branch of the Tan Tree, she will dance as beautifully as the Moon, your sight and your hearing will be absolutely delighted to the very point of rejoicing. The miming, which is clever & rich in artifice, will improvise with beautiful & well-played scenes, and softer than disheveled honey cake will be the poet's verses. As regards the old, myopic potter, he will be in his shop as they will be in theirs & the slave trader for whom the least beautiful is worth a thousand gold dinars and the filthy cobbler and the doddery old tailor and the divine blind man and the chef from the land of Sindh. And this is for them. And we shall see some rather extraordinary things & and some staggering marvels. There will be a white Carnelian vase. And there will also be a lot of other things which would be interminable to list. And in addition we'll enter via Faubourg St. Honoré and it will be the Thousand and Second Night".

In addition to the programme card, a reply card with a detachable coupon for invited guests to present when entering the party. The artist Georges Lepape had painted the profile of a Persian styled prince encased in a black triangle accented with shades of emerald and gold gouache. The text on this reply card is as follows (translated from French):

"THE THOUSAND & SECOND NIGHT AT PAUL POIRET'S. The party will take place on Saturday 24 June 1911. It shall be postponed in the event of bad weather. A costume borrowed from Oriental tales is an absolute must. 0930 hours R. S. V. P."

According to the reply card, Poiret required all 300 of his guests clothed in special Persian style costumes harkening "The Thousand and One Night" tales as told by Scheherazade and each person played a part as if it were a quasi theatre production rather than a mere fete. For instance, Poiret's painter friend, Andre Dunoyer de Segonzac was told to come as "Champagne, His Majesty's Valet", and his artist friend Raoul Dufy was to arrive dressed as "The King's Fool".

However, if the guests did not come appropriately dressed per the invitation request, they were promptly escorted to a wardrobe and change their clothing into the flamboyant Persian styles he specially created for the occasion. One such costume created to be worn at the ball is the sumptuously bejeweled example below, the lucky soul who had the great fortune to have worn it is regrettably unknown.

Some of Poiret's friends and known customers had their ensembles created by non other than Poiret himself. One of these friends was Elisabeth Barrachin Germaine, the daughter of rich industrialist Pierre Barrachin. Poiret created a superbly embellished silver lame costume so that she would be the "Queen of Persia" during the party. It was Mme Barrachine who later became the Marquise de Ségur in 1925 upon her marriage to Philippe, Count de Ségur-Lamoigon.

Overall, the clothing was a mixture of sumptuous velvets, silks, lames, organzas, satins, tulles and other diaphanous fabrics, Russian silver bobbin lace, metallic gold laces, precious pearls, twinkling glass jewels, thick bouillon fringes, fluffy ostrich plumes, exotic textiles and more. Also included were the requisite jewelry and flamboyant headdresses, many of them incorporating a turban of some sort and topped with a feather aigrette. Poiret said that In my studio in Paris, "I am surrounded by large wardrobes. Artists who visit me are surprised at finding such a temple of useless things, but I am sure you would find it interesting. People of all nations deposit a remnant of their dress here, and you will find antique shoes, belts and headdresses, queer and ancient vestments, ecclesiastical garments, thick plushes, royal velvets, laces that have been taken from altar cloths, fancy Venise laces of large design, laces from Milan, and laces of silver and gold, large ornaments and military paraphernalia, printed cretonnes, embroidered muslins and plaid handkerchiefs. Look further and you will see fringes and pipings, Oriental trinkets and glass beads, and beads worn by the Egyptians. Next to these are shimmering satins, wonderful embroideries from Russian peasant dresses, scarfs from Bokhara, cashmere shawls, and Egyptian prints."

Poiret further explained in his memoir that "we were greeted as if we were entering a theatre, by a group of elderly gentlemen in evening dress, inspectors if you like, who didn't joke and carefully dissected the guests...I was familiar with the carelessness of some of my regular visitors and I'd planned for just such an eventuality...Some refused to dress up as I'd have liked and withdrew, while other wise guests accepted the costume I imposed on them." He goes on to reveal a portion of a conversation that took place with such guests:

Poiret - "Excuse me Sir, you're in evening dress. It's a fancy dress party. I'm afraid you cannot be allowed to enter."

Guest - "But Sir, my evening dress is covered with an authentic Chinese coat."

Poiret - "Sir, we are not in China, we are in Persia, and your costume has no place in this context. As such I cannot allow you in unless you switch costume."

Guest - "At this hour, that's impossible."

Poiret - "Excuse me Sir, should you wish to go up to the first floor, we can improvise a Persian costume for you, with the authentic documents, which will do you credit and would be in keeping with the whole party."

Party at Paul's by Montoison, 1911:

"And around ten o'clock. Announced in the deep, full voice of Ernest La Jeunesse, in front of the enclosed living room: Open Sesame!

Then the living room opened and the riot of the guests spread over the sumptuous tapestries lent by the Clichy Palace. Thus began this unforgettable night that a fashion designer, modest and Parisian, dreamed of adding to the incomplete splendors of the Thousand and One Other Nights (Arabian Nights). He had invited a few clients, many charming women, and a number of illustrious personalities. Audacious artist, but enemy of publicity, promoter of new elegances, the master had drawn up a program which announced foreign things. There will be lights and perfumes, flutes, women's suppers...birdsong. There was all of that. 

During the dazzle of that evening which took place in many of the vast rooms of the hotel. Temple of couture, only in the half-light of the huge park that surrounds it. Sixty negroes, along a trellised wall, formed the darkness. A basin of onyx, jade and zinc, painted entirely by hand, where transparent carp swam, allowed a thin trickle of colored water to rise. Multicolored eggs, hit by a guest's ball, fell, constantly renewed, into a boiled leather basin. Nothing had stopped the splendor of the master.

Couples of sultanas, draped in the most admirable fabrics, were stretched out here and there, in the shade of the tall palm trees, or the giant firs, standing along the sidewalk. Everywhere, a profusion, a deluge of lights. A powerful projector intended to replace the moon, veiled like everyone else, illuminated the harmonious group of models and saleswomen, and these young ladies smiled in all the rays. A fresh and light gentle breeze, obligingly lent by Luna-Park, seemed to come from the open bodices.

Sitting orientally among animal skins and furs of incredible luxury - strips of sables and heads of skunks - Paul contemplated his work. He had donned the beaded tunic which made him successful at a previous ball, the authentic costume of Tiglath-Pileser III, king of Assyria in 745-27.

The motley crowd of guests gravitated around him. Princess M.[Princess Lucien Murat]...was nonchalantly stretched out on quasi-royal cushions.. Prince R...in a turban, cheeky as in the circle, seemed, in front of the Russian dancers, to lose food and drink. The painter S [Segonzac] was doing his nails with a Bagdad penknife, and M. Z., [Italian dancer Carlotta Zambelli] next to Harún al-Roschild [character in Jorge Max Rohde book, combination of the Baron de Rothschild and Harun-al-Rashid], felt the first troubles of opium. Finally, [Edouard de] Max came...the famous artist had announced that he would be carrying more than four million pearls on his person, collected at the momentary grace of an American friend. He came, however, without pearls, but draped in black transparencies. He mingled with the tangle of beautiful odalisques, until he passionately spoke to the audience, in the warmth of the night, colored verses.

Weird melodies passed very slowly. Groups of mulatto girls, seated on three steps of pink marble, were singing. Hidden under a tiny geranium pot, a gigantic and disturbing barrel organ was rocking the couplets of ancient romance: 'Ah! Persia...Persia...Persia again.' Further on, seated in a circle, women writers were listening to a bearded man who was saying strange things, dressed in light muslins.

Farandoles [a lively Provençal dance in which the dancers join hands and wind in and out in a chain] glided. Petticoats circled around baskets of flowers. All in the finest black, the servants circulated sorbets or, discreetly, the faint traces of intermittent negroes asserted themselves. Three extra boys, completely naked, but with their faces veiled, and recruited in the street of Téhéran, chant poems where the words: 'Orjáh [formerly Edessa]..Limon-Had, Biehr.'.. came back as a mysterious leitmotif. Others, summoned every minute by the repeated strokes of a rattlesnake, offered to those who did not smoke opium, the great Nabuchodonozor (Nebuchadnezzar). And the fullness of the lamé panties was, for some, asylum on the munificence of an unequaled buffet.

The morning dawn alone interrupted this curious symphony. And until morning, Paul, alone under his canopy, still squatting among the animal skins where the light moths were fluttering, took antipyrine while thinking of the imminent creation of a bold skirt.

Once the guests were properly attired, Poiret explained that they "went through into a second lounge in small groups, where a half-naked Negro, draped in Bukhara silks [a town to the South of Uzbekistan, known for its luxurious textiles] and equipped with a flaming torch and a yataghan [an Oriental sword with a curved blade], grouped them together and brought them to me. Initially they traversed a sandy courtyard where, beneath a blue and gold canopy, fountains gushed forth in porcelain basins. One would have said that it was reminiscent of the sunny patio from some of Aladdin's palaces. Through the canopy's colors fell multicolored light. They went up a few steps and found themselves in front of a huge golden cage, fenced off with twisted fittings, and inside which I had locked away my favorite mistress (Mrs Poiret), surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting, who sang authentic Persian tunes. Mirrors, sorbets, aquariums, small birds, cloth and feathers, such were the distractions for the queen of the harem and her ladies-in-waiting. "

As we learned from Poiret, the centerpiece of the occasion was his wife Denise, imprisoned like a fancifully colored bird in an opulently gilded cage with a royal blue canopy embroidered with Poiret's initials. Dressed in character as the "Queen of the Harem." Poiret's fashions were no longer bound by the restrictions of the corset, and Denise's legs were encased in ivory diaphanous jupe-culottes (loose harem pants), and matching blouse, fitted with a golden sash strapped around her waist, topped with a gold fringed "minaret" or "lampshade" skirt, inspired by Poiret's costumery for Ballets Russe's production of Scheherazade. Denise wore a shimmering ivory lame turban carefully wrapped around her head which was adorned with a large fluffy egret feather aigrette to complete the ensemble. Lucie Delarue-Mardrus will write in Fémina, “Madame Paul Poiret, this all-white sultana, in the midst of so many shadows and light, seemed to delighted eyes, a lily transformed into a woman.”

Poiret, playing host, was dressed as the Sultan "Poiret the Magnificent", which he was henceforth to be called during the party. He wore a silver metallic lamé costume partly covered by a cloak, and crowned by a lame turban wound about his head complete with a small aigrette. His costume was trimmed with hand embroidery and lace surrounded by silver metal blades, its alternating lace patterns were covered with gold blades; his version of typical oriental décor adorned with arabesques. Poiret was armed with a trusty dagger suspended from a wide green belt encircling his waist. 

After encountering Denise, Poiret said that "we then entered a lounge, where there was a jet of water, which appeared to come up out of the rug and drop back down into an iridescent crystal bowl. In the following room, which was accessible via two wide doors, there was a bank of multicolored cushions all gathered together and embroidered, at the summit of which was crouched the grand tragedian [Edouard de] Max. He was dressed in a black silk gandoura [a light tunic, in wool or cotton, with or without sleeves] and wore innumerable pearls on a chain around his neck. He told me that one of his American lady friends had entrusted him with all her jewels that evening (there were three million Francs worth). He recounted stories taken from a Thousand and One Nights, a finger raised in the air in line with the traditional gesture of the oriental storytellers, and the onlookers, both men and women alike, were crouched around him in a circle."

"Without stopping in this passageway, we went through into the garden which was both dark and mysterious. Rugs covered the flagstones of the steps leading to the entrance and sand covered the paths, so as any noise was muffled there and a great silence reigned. Overwhelmed, the walkers spoke in low voices, as if they were in a mosque. In the middle of the embroidered flooring sat the white carnelian vase announced on the programme. Lights concealed within the surrounding foliage illuminated it in a bizarre manner. From it escaped a slender jet of water, similar to what you see in the Persian engravings, and pink ibises strolled all about taking in this coolness and this light for themselves. Some of the trees were covered in dark blue fruits of light; others sported berries of purple light. Live monkeys, macaws and parrots brightened up all this greenery, which looked like an entrance to a deep park. One can spot me at the far end, looking like some kind of swarthy sultan with a white beard, holding an ivory whip. Around me, on the steps up to my throne, all the concubines are stretched out and lascivious and appear to be awaiting and dreading my anger. It is here that the guests were led in small groups to bow and scrape according to Islamic tradition."

"Once my three hundred guests were gathered together, I rose and, followed by all my ladies, I headed towards my favorite mistress' cage, who I set free. She escaped as a bird might escape, and I hurried off in pursuit of her, cracking my unnecessary whip. She disappeared into the crowd. Did we know that evening that we were telling the drama of our life?" 

Guest and friend of Poiret, Georges Lepape retained a vivid memory of the party saying "All the guests were asked to wear Persian costumes, and they came in to find themselves beneath a vast awning. There they were greeted by six ebony-black negroes, stripped to the waist and wearing baggy trousers of muslin silk in Veronese green, lemon, orange and vermillion. they bowed low before us: 'Come!' And so you passed on through the salons, which were heaped with cushions of all colors and arrived in the gardens spread with Persian rugs. There were parrots in the trees and little bands of Eastern musicians and flute players hidden among the bushes. As you advanced you came across booths of the sort found in Aran souks, craftsmen at work and acrobats of all kinds. Your footsteps were muffled by the rugs, but you could hear the rustle of the silk and satin costumes...Suddenly a miniature firework flared from behind a bush, then another and another. It was like fairyland."

Lepape was so taken by the spectacle that he painted the moment of Denise being freed by the Sultan from the gilded cage. The gouache painting showing her magnificent costume, was presented to her as a souvenir of the occasion.

"Whilst the twenty male negroes and twenty female negroes kept the perfume burners fueled with myrrhs and incenses, whose blue smoke filled the atmosphere, a flute and a zither could be heard in a grove, unsettling the senses. Some Hindu chefs prepared the hors-d'oeuvres and the culinary specialties in their own special way, using produce, fruit and device from their own climates."

This was to be followed by even more entertainment while exotic delicacies and fresh oysters were brought out by scantily clad slave girls and genies on large platters. I would imagine the spicy odors of curries, lamb kebabs and succulent fruits would have been tempting the tastebuds of all the guests. Poiret resumes his retelling of the evening "and so the buffets were broken open, and the spectacles began. Hidden orchestras were discreetly audible, as if to respect the calm splendor of this night of ecstasy. For the whole night long I very much enjoyed playing on the sensibilities of my guests as I would on a keyboard. Two of my friends constantly came up to me to take instructions, and I pointed out to them the attractions which were likely to have growing appeal. In one corner of the place there was a prophetess, who had diamond encrusted teeth, and a tripe butcher, which the painter Luc-Albert Moreau, honored in a ghastly and bloody manner. There was the potter too, who threw clay bowls with his awkward but skillful fingers. And all of a sudden we met the marmoset merchant, who was covered in animals which climbed onto his shoulders and head, casting evil glances and making shrill cries. "

What curious libations did these honored guests imbibe other than the nine hundred litres of champagne? Only the master of ceremonies, Poiret can tell us that "here we have the obscure bar where solely the liqueurs were illuminated. What alchemist had prepared the dazzling phantasmagoria of this worrying laboratory? A hundred long-necked carafes, a hundred crystal ewers contained all the concoctions, from a range of purple anisettes and garnet-colored bitters with emerald peppermints and golden lemon liqueurs, to creamy advocaats and grenadines of slightly acid crimson. There were also licorice waters, fruit cordials, chartreuse liqueurs, gins, vermouths, orange squashes, kirsches and sloe gins. One entered here and all these painters, who were my guests, played as they would a palette, with these pure tones which they mixed for the sake of it, in the transparency of their flute glass. In this way mysterious, reprehensible drinks were prepared, which were a delight to look at and a surprise to the taste buds."

Guests were given a performance by the Parisian star of the Opéra-Comique, Anna Régina Badet who "danced on a lawn where, so light and ethereal was she, that her steps didn't even trample down the grass. The sight of the spectators gathered around, seated or stretched out on cushions and rugs, was no less beautiful than the dance spectacle itself. It was a confused mass of silks, jewels and feathers, which shimmered like a stained glass window in the moonlight. We saw [the famous Russian ballerina Natalia Vladimirovna] Trouhanowa (aka Natasha Trukhanova), a generous and whimsical houri, dance again [with her veils swirling]. Then along came the exquisite and delicate [Italian dancer Carlotta] Zambelli, shunning the fervor of an agile, passionate mime. Later on, from out of the foliage and at ground level, we see flames and showers of sparks rising noisily up to the finials and opening up like glass flowers."

Poiret gives us even more spectacular scenes including fireworks: "then a large cascade of fire encircled the palace and suddenly the atmosphere reverberated with a harrowing sound. From the terrace which overlooked the garden, the shower of fire gushed forth, striking the steps leading to the entrance. We feared the rugs would catch fire. Sometimes silver and sometimes gold, this exciting storm electrified the crowd and, once it was out, it left phosphorescent insects all around, either hooked up in branches or suspended in the ether. The monkeys and parrots, disturbed in their sleep, called out in alarm. The early morning found them livid and breaking the chains that held them in the branches, with some taking flight, whilst others escaped to the Champs-Elysées in great, long strides via the neighboring rooftops."

The revelry continued into the morning where Poiret recounts that "we saw the painter [and decorator Guy-Pierre] Fauconnet, dressed in a white gown similar to that of a professional tightrope walker or juggler, entertain and amaze the crowd with an orange, which he made disappear and then reappear like the fakirs do."

But who else was at this fantastical event? Poiret gives us an idea that "the audience was made up of artists and discerning amateurs, who came into line and sought to increase the appeal of this imposing occasion through their presence. The wealthiest of them, such as Princess [Lucien] Murat and  [Boniface "Mr. Boni", Marquis de Castellane], have often said that they had never in their life seen anything so moving as the spectacles which filled this miraculous night."

A special parting gift was presented to each woman who attended the party, a bottle of Nuit d'Perse (Persian Night) perfume, created by Maurice Schaller.

This rare perfume may never have actually been presented for sale under that name, but was marketed as Nuit d'Orient and then rechristened Nuit de Chine in 1912.

Nuit de Chine was released to the public in 1913, and became one of the most successful fragrances from Rosine. The label has Chinese characters (meaning "night in the country from China", "flowers").

Fragrance Composition:

So what did it smell like? It is classified as a heavy floral oriental fragrance for women with a dominant spicy peach note layered over a sweetened ambergris chypre base. "A sweet, soft oriental odor". Made use of several chemicals: coumarin which gave the perfume a base redolent of tonka bean and Persicol which gave the top a distinctive peach note. I feel the peach note combined with the chypre base in the perfume was a precursor to Guerlain's Mitsouko of 1919.

• Top notes: plum, bergamot, cinnamon, fruity accord, peach 
• Middle notes: lavender, tuberose, carnation, nutmeg, pink jasmine, clove, labdanum, rose
• Base notes: incense, cedar, orris, civet, tonka, vanilla, Mysore sandalwood, patchouli, musk, ambergris, vetiver

Nuit de Chine was advertised as "the majestic prayer of precious essences rises among golds, lacquers and bronzes."

 

Bottles:

Nuit de Chine was available in parfum, eau de toilette, eau de cologne, talcum, bath powder and soap.

The deluxe parfum was housed inside a replica of a Chinese snuff bottle in clear crystal, fitted with rings or either black or green glass at the shoulders and topped with a matching colored glass stopper. The presentation box was covered in brocaded fabric simulating a Chinoiserie pattern.

The fragrance was available in several sizes:

• The deluxe bottles were in 1 and 1 2/3 oz sizes.
• 1/2 oz
• 3/4 oz

 Notions and Fancy Goods, 1916:

"Paul Poiret, perhaps best known to Americans as the premiere couturier, is also a maker of high grade perfumes, and during the past two years has worked his way up amongst the world's leading perfumers. Some of his productions, which owing to the high cost of their ingredients are somewhat expensive have nevertheless proven a success wherever shown, particularly the perfume known as Nuit de Chine. This is put up in a replica of an antique Chinese bottle with a blue stopper set in a gold neck and two handles of blue, enclosed in a gold lined box of gold and deep blue Chinese brocade. This, however, gives but a faint idea of the attractiveness of this package."

c1921 ad

Motion Picture,

"Poiret himself says: "These parfums, I offer you, ma amis, in confidence that they will fo for your soul what my gowns have done for your bodies. It is true that they are very expensive...but..what would you? Are they not parfums of the rarest excellence? Parfums by which you may at last accurately reflect your character, your personality? As an example, the Nuit de Chine— illustrated— whose oriental odor is unlike anything ever known before. ... And with the little wrappings and flacons which I, Paul Poiret, have designed with the same care as my most ravishing costume?"

Harper's Bazaar, Volume 56, 1921:

" Poiret continues to put out delicious fragrances; one of his latest, “Chez Poiret. Rosine,” is inimitably bottled in a half sphere with an emerald glass stopper.... "Nuit de Chine," luxurious and oriental. "Nuit de Chine” toilet water in a pyramidal, globular-stoppered flask is very alluring, as is Poiret's "Rosine” in its glass hemisphere. "

The Illustrated Milliner - Volume 23, 1922:

"Les Parfumes de Rosine. At the left is La Rose de Rosine, a handsome gold and crystal container. Le Minaret: In a gold brocaded casing and red covered casket. Nuit de Chine in a gold cloth case with  applique of embroidery."

The New Yorker - Volume 8, 1932:

"Rosine: Coup de Foudre joins Nuit de Chine and Maharadjah for tigress women. "

Drug &Cosmetics Industry, Volume 42, 1938:

"ROSINE - The perfume for Marco Polo — Rosine's Nuit de Chine — is presented by Maurice Levy simultaneously with the film "Marco Polo". It is boxed in an oval of black and gold brocade, and the oval shaped flacon is topped by a knob stopper of midnight blue."

Nuit de Chine, SCENTS OF ROSINE. Design. Georges Lepape. , 1913, Paris. Glass, bakelite, paper, cardboard - GS Collection (copyright ADAGP PARIS 2013)

Perfume card for Nuit de Chine.

Fate of the Fragrance:

Discontinued, date unknown.

It was still being sold in 1941.

In the spring of 1912, the magazine Femina recounted that the "Countess Aynard de Chabrillan gave a great oriental feast in costume entitled "The Thousand Second Night" in her splendid mansion, on the rue Christophe Colomb. All the Parisian aristocracy met there and the splendor of the costumes is combined with the magnificence of the decor. This celebration is in line with that given in June 1911 by the couturier Paul Poiret in his castle of Butard which had brought together all of artistic and social Paris." In the photo below we can see some of who attended, (from the top left) Mademoiselle de Levis-Mirepoix, (below) Marquise de St-Seine, (top center) Countess Aynard de Chabrillan, (below) Marquise de Levis-Mirepoix, Countess de Pange, (upper right) Countess Charles Levis-Mirepoix, (below) Countess Guy Levis-Mirepoix and Countess de la Tour de Pin.