The year 1889 was pivotal — both for the world and for perfumery. The Eiffel Tower had just been unveiled at the Paris Exposition Universelle, symbolizing innovation and modernity. Society was straddling two eras: the rigid traditions of the 19th century and the bold experimentation of the approaching Belle Époque. Fashion was softening — corsets still reigned, but fabrics were lighter, silhouettes more fluid, and leisure pursuits were becoming increasingly modern. The emergence of synthetic aroma molecules gave perfumers new artistic freedom, breaking the boundaries of what natural essences alone could achieve. Jicky became the embodiment of this transformation — a perfume that captured the tension between the old and the new, the natural and the artificial, the masculine and the feminine.
Women of the time would have found Jicky intriguing — even provocative. Unlike the sweet, floral, and powdery perfumes they were accustomed to, Jicky was unconventional: brisk, aromatic, slightly animalic. It carried the same bold spirit as the “new woman” of the Belle Époque — educated, curious, and more independent than her mother’s generation. Yet, men too were drawn to it, marking Jicky as one of the first truly unisex fragrances in history. The name and scent together suggested modern vitality and refined sensuality, appealing to those who dared to be different.
Interpreted in scent, Jicky is a fougère — meaning “fern-like” — a genre that combines aromatic herbs, citrus, and warm, mossy undertones. Its construction was pioneering: natural ingredients like lavender, bergamot, and vanilla were blended with newly available synthetics such as coumarin (which imparts a sweet, hay-like warmth) and vanillin, deepening the composition and extending its longevity. This interplay between fresh and warm, clean and sensual, masculine and feminine, was what made Jicky so unique for its time. In the context of late-19th-century perfumery — dominated by straightforward floral bouquets — Jicky was a revelation. It wasn’t a mere imitation of nature; it was an abstract creation, an artistic composition that expressed emotion, personality, and modern sophistication.
More than a perfume, Jicky was a manifesto — Guerlain’s declaration that fragrance could transcend gender, tradition, and the limitations of natural raw materials. It was youthful yet refined, spontaneous yet structured. Its name — whispered affectionately, almost conspiratorially — mirrored its scent: warm, familiar, and undeniably alive.
Bardot, Eternal Sex Goddess, 1973:
"Brigitte is not a heavy user of scent; for a long time she favored Jicky by Guerlain, a subtle girlish scent touched with bergamot and lavender and a hint of Provencal herbs."
"The room smelled of her perfume (at some point I asked what it was, and Colette said: 'Jicky"
Marie-Claire, 1937:
"Jicky by Guerlain: Very fresh. Dominant note: lavender, undergrowth."
Original Fragrance Composition:
- Top notes: almond, oleander, geranium, lavender, Eau de Cologne Imperiale formula, Provencal herbs (thyme, basil, nutmeg, coriander, lyre sage, mint)
- Middle notes: fern, pepper, hay, broom, absinthe, tuberose, jasmine, rose, cinnamon,
- Base notes: resins, cedar, sandalwood, patchouli, vetiver, civet, juniper, myrrh, orris, vanilla and tonka bean
Scent Profile:
To experience Jicky by Guerlain is to stand at the crossroads of nature and modernity — where sun-warmed lavender fields of Provence meet the shimmer of new synthetic artistry. It opens with a brightness that feels both airy and alive, a burst of green and gold. The first breath carries the aromatic lavender, grown in the stony hills of Haute-Provence, where altitude and dry sunlight give the blossoms their signature sharp sweetness. The essential oil brims with linalool and linalyl acetate, molecules that impart that crystalline, soapy freshness which defines the fougère family. Yet in Jicky, lavender is made flesh — warmed by a tender almond note that adds a whisper of creaminess, softening the herbal edges.
The Eau de Cologne Impériale accord — an homage to Guerlain’s own 1853 masterpiece — threads through this opening like a silken ribbon of citrus: bergamot, lemon, and petitgrain lending a sparkling, sunlit dimension. The Provencal herbs — thyme, basil, nutmeg, coriander, mint, and lyre sage — add a Mediterranean vivacity, redolent of mountain air and crushed green leaves beneath bare hands. They contribute their own aromatic chemicals — thymol, eucalyptol, and sabinene — that lift the lavender’s sweetness into something brisk, kinetic, and unmistakably modern.
As the perfume unfolds, it turns more intimate, revealing a textured middle that feels like the scent of skin kissed by the sun after hours outdoors. Here, Jicky takes on its characteristic “fougère” complexity. Fern — an abstract accord, since the plant itself has no scent — is recreated through the balance of coumarin (first isolated from tonka bean in 1820) and oakmoss-like resins, evoking damp greenery and soft earth.
As the perfume unfolds, it turns more intimate, revealing a textured middle that feels like the scent of skin kissed by the sun after hours outdoors. Here, Jicky takes on its characteristic “fougère” complexity. Fern — an abstract accord, since the plant itself has no scent — is recreated through the balance of coumarin (first isolated from tonka bean in 1820) and oakmoss-like resins, evoking damp greenery and soft earth.
Hay and broom add golden warmth, dry and honeyed, layered with the bittersweet absinthe, its thujone-laden sharpness giving an aromatic, almost hallucinatory depth. A touch of pepper pricks the senses, while rose, tuberose, and jasmine weave a gentle floral counterpoint — tender, but not ornamental. These flowers lend a breath of human warmth, a faint echo of body heat and sensuality beneath the cool herbs and spices. The cinnamon adds a subtle, glowing spice, drawing out the almond’s sweetness and hinting at the warmth that lies below.
The drydown is where Jicky becomes truly intimate — both animalic and comforting. The base unfurls like smoke and silk: resins of myrrh and storax lend balsamic depth, while patchouli, cedar, and vetiver ground the composition in wood and earth. The juniper and orris add clarity and powdery refinement, tempering the warmth of the animalic materials that follow.
The drydown is where Jicky becomes truly intimate — both animalic and comforting. The base unfurls like smoke and silk: resins of myrrh and storax lend balsamic depth, while patchouli, cedar, and vetiver ground the composition in wood and earth. The juniper and orris add clarity and powdery refinement, tempering the warmth of the animalic materials that follow.
Civet, a daring, but common, inclusion for the time, gives the perfume its signature sensual hum — a whisper of skin, musk, and life itself. Then comes the sweetness: tonka bean, rich in coumarin, blends with vanilla (and likely vanillin, one of the earliest synthetic notes), creating a soft, creamy glow that seems to float above the woods like candlelight. Sandalwood, most likely from Mysore, infuses the finish with its milky, sacred warmth — its santalols adding a spiritual roundness that ties the herbal clarity of the opening to the animalic sensuality of the end.
In its entirety, Jicky feels like an inhalation of the natural world — wild herbs and sunburnt grasses, flowers and resins and the faint hum of the human body — yet it hums with something abstract, something distinctly modern. The synthetics — coumarin, vanillin, perhaps early lactones — do not replace the natural materials but amplify them, like light caught in glass. They give Jicky its peculiar, unforgettable duality: part dandy, part dreamer; part science, part soul. To smell it is to encounter one of perfumery’s first true works of art — a scent that captures the eternal dance between intellect and instinct, civilization and wilderness.
So what does it smell like? Jicky vintage version (1989) is classified as a sweet oriental fragrance for women. It begins with a citrusy fresh top, followed by a floral woody heart, layered over a sweet balsamic exotic base. A perfume of contrasts with aromatic notes of bergamot, rosemary and lavender, amber and wood set against a warm background of vanilla.
The vintage 1989 version of Jicky unfolds like a golden tapestry of light and shadow — a perfume of vivid contrasts, where the cool shimmer of citrus and herbs meets the languid warmth of amber and vanilla. It opens with a burst of sunlight: lemon, bergamot, and mandarin mingle in an effervescent dance, their oils glistening like dew on morning fruit. The bergamot, sourced from Calabria, carries that inimitable balance of bitterness and brightness — a harmony created by linalyl acetate, limonene, and bergapten — lending sparkle without acidity.
As the brightness fades, the heart of Jicky reveals its intricate layers, moving from airy citrus to something more tactile and emotional. Here, the jasmine unfolds — lush and sensual, most likely from Grasse, where its blossoms open before dawn to preserve the delicate balance of benzyl acetate and indole. The result is a flower that smells not merely floral, but alive — creamy, warm, slightly animalic. The rose, too, breathes with richness, likely an accord balancing rose de mai and Turkish damask rose, mingling fresh dewiness with spicy, honeyed depth.
Throughout its long and illustrious history, Jicky was not only celebrated for its trailblazing scent but also for the elegance and variety of its bottles, each one a reflection of Guerlain’s evolving aesthetic and the artistic sensibilities of its era. The perfume’s presentation told a story parallel to its fragrance — one of refinement, innovation, and enduring style.
The earliest version of Jicky appeared in the Carré flacon, a simple square bottle used for the parfum. This form echoed late 19th-century restraint, emphasizing clean lines and clarity — a vessel meant to highlight the amber liquid within rather than compete with it. It was a fitting introduction for a perfume that balanced classical structure with daring modernity.
In 1908, Jicky adopted what would become one of Guerlain’s most iconic designs: the Quadrilobe bottle, created by Aimé Guerlain’s brother, Gabriel Guerlain. Its rounded shoulders and lobed stopper were inspired by their father’s old pharmacy jars, connecting the family’s perfumery lineage to its apothecary roots. The Quadrilobe’s softly curving geometry mirrored Jicky’s dual nature — both scientific and sensual, traditional yet avant-garde — and would become synonymous with Guerlain’s most prestigious parfums.
Through the 20th century, Jicky continued to appear in a range of exquisite flacons, each capturing the design language of its time. The Borne flacon (1931–1960s), with its column-like shape and architectural shoulders, exuded Deco elegance — a perfume column crowned with understated authority. The cobalt blue glass Lanterne flacon (1935–1943), aptly named for its lantern-like silhouette, introduced a touch of romantic whimsy to Jicky’s visual identity, its design diffusing light like the soft glow of evening through glass.
The Guerre flacon (1938–1945) reflected the austerity and practicality of wartime France, a period when materials and aesthetics leaned toward restraint but still retained a sense of dignity. By contrast, the Opaline flacon (1951–1956) ushered in postwar optimism — a luminous bottle of milky, opalescent glass suggesting refinement and renewal. The Parapluie flacon (1952–1979) offered a more modern practicality, designed for ease of use while maintaining elegance, its name (“umbrella”) perhaps alluding to its protective and portable nature. Finally, the Amphore flacon (1955–1982), with its gracefully elongated form and classical frosted contours, brought a sense of ancient beauty to mid-century femininity — a timeless amphora filled with golden essence.
Alongside the parfums, Jicky’s lighter concentrations were housed in distinctive vessels that became as beloved as the fragrance itself. The Goutte flacon (1923–2001), used for the eau de toilette, was slender and teardrop-shaped, its simplicity reflecting both practicality and elegance. The Montre flacon (1936–1999), named for its resemblance to a pocket watch, contained the eau de cologne — a charming nod to the dapper ritual of men’s grooming, aligning with Jicky’s reputation as one of the first truly unisex scents. The flacon de Voyage (1955–2002) accompanied travelers, offering refinement and familiarity in a compact form, while the Bee bottle, Guerlain’s enduring emblem since 1853, appeared periodically across the line, linking Jicky to the house’s imperial heritage and to the timeless symbol of natural craftsmanship.
Even Jicky’s talc was given a design worthy of its name, housed in the satin finished Lyre bottle (1922–1960) — a vessel shaped like the classical instrument, symbolic of harmony, beauty, and lyricism. It was a fitting container for a powder that would leave the faintest, most poetic trail of the fragrance on skin.
Each of these bottles not only held the scent of Jicky but also served as a visual expression of Guerlain’s artistic evolution. From the rational purity of the Quadrilobe to the romantic curve of the Amphore, the line of flacons reflects how Jicky transcended time, adapting gracefully to each generation while never losing its essential character — a perfume of intellect and emotion, contained in glass that was itself a work of art.
In its entirety, Jicky feels like an inhalation of the natural world — wild herbs and sunburnt grasses, flowers and resins and the faint hum of the human body — yet it hums with something abstract, something distinctly modern. The synthetics — coumarin, vanillin, perhaps early lactones — do not replace the natural materials but amplify them, like light caught in glass. They give Jicky its peculiar, unforgettable duality: part dandy, part dreamer; part science, part soul. To smell it is to encounter one of perfumery’s first true works of art — a scent that captures the eternal dance between intellect and instinct, civilization and wilderness.
1989 Fragrance Composition:
- Top notes: lemon, bergamot, mandarin, rosewood
- Middle notes: jasmine, patchouli, rose, orris, vetiver
- Base notes: vanilla, benzoin, ambergris, tonka bean, civet, leather, frankincense
Scent Profile:
The vintage 1989 version of Jicky unfolds like a golden tapestry of light and shadow — a perfume of vivid contrasts, where the cool shimmer of citrus and herbs meets the languid warmth of amber and vanilla. It opens with a burst of sunlight: lemon, bergamot, and mandarin mingle in an effervescent dance, their oils glistening like dew on morning fruit. The bergamot, sourced from Calabria, carries that inimitable balance of bitterness and brightness — a harmony created by linalyl acetate, limonene, and bergapten — lending sparkle without acidity.
The lemon adds piercing clarity, while mandarin introduces a gentle sweetness, round and sun-warmed, filled with gamma-terpinene and citral, which soften the sharper edges. Beneath them lies a subtle hint of rosewood, once distilled from Aniba rosaeodora of the Amazon, its pale, honeyed aroma rich in linalool. The effect is both fresh and polished — citrus gleam over silken wood — like a reflection of sunlight caught on a fine crystal surface.
As the brightness fades, the heart of Jicky reveals its intricate layers, moving from airy citrus to something more tactile and emotional. Here, the jasmine unfolds — lush and sensual, most likely from Grasse, where its blossoms open before dawn to preserve the delicate balance of benzyl acetate and indole. The result is a flower that smells not merely floral, but alive — creamy, warm, slightly animalic. The rose, too, breathes with richness, likely an accord balancing rose de mai and Turkish damask rose, mingling fresh dewiness with spicy, honeyed depth.
Orris, the powdered root of the Florentine iris, lends a cool, buttery smoothness through ionones that give the fragrance its soft, velvety halo — a powdery bridge between flower and skin. The patchouli, sourced from Indonesia, introduces a grounding, earthy vibration through its patchoulol content, evoking damp forest soil after rain. And then, vetiver — likely from Haiti — offers a dry, smoky elegance, its vetiverol and vetivone molecules weaving a quiet tension between root and air, adding both texture and restraint.
It is in the base that vintage Jicky reveals its true character — lush, mysterious, and deeply human. The vanilla, sweet and resinous, is the soul of warmth here — derived from Madagascar pods, rich in vanillin, piperonal, and coumarin. Its lush sweetness is tempered by benzoin, a balsamic resin from Siam, glowing with notes of cinnamon and caramel from its natural benzoic acid and vanillic aldehydes.
It is in the base that vintage Jicky reveals its true character — lush, mysterious, and deeply human. The vanilla, sweet and resinous, is the soul of warmth here — derived from Madagascar pods, rich in vanillin, piperonal, and coumarin. Its lush sweetness is tempered by benzoin, a balsamic resin from Siam, glowing with notes of cinnamon and caramel from its natural benzoic acid and vanillic aldehydes.
Ambergris, one of perfumery’s most elusive materials, lends its ethereal animalic depth — saline, skin-like, and radiant — diffusing the sweetness and creating an impression of soft, endless warmth. Tonka bean, high in coumarin, adds a nutty, hay-like undertone, bridging the amber and vanilla with subtle tobacco tones. The civet, once natural, gives a whisper of warmth and human intimacy — a slightly feral pulse that brings the perfume to life. Finally, leather and frankincense close the composition with a smoky, sacred gravity — the leather dark and supple, the incense rising like thin trails of smoke in a temple.
Together, these materials — natural and synthetic in perfect accord — create a perfume that feels at once spontaneous and eternal. The synthetics, particularly vanillin and coumarin, heighten the natural facets rather than replace them, polishing the raw materials into an idealized form. Where nature gives sensuality, the synthetic brings clarity; where the earth gives depth, chemistry lends light. Jicky (1989) is thus not a mere echo of its 1889 ancestor, but a matured reflection — a sweet oriental symphony of citrus and amber, intellect and desire. Smelling it is like tracing a line through history: from the shimmer of the Belle Époque to the warmth of the late 20th century, still glowing with the quiet sophistication that has always made Jicky timeless.
By the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s, Guerlain’s Jicky line had evolved into an elegant, fully realized fragrance collection — a testament to the enduring sophistication and adaptability of one of the world’s most storied perfumes. This was a period when perfumery was becoming increasingly ritualized, and luxury houses like Guerlain sought to envelop their clientele in scent from head to toe. The Jicky range offered not only perfume but a complete sensory wardrobe, each product designed to express a different facet of the fragrance’s complex personality — from its brisk aromatic top to its warm, sensual base.
At the heart of the collection was the Parfum, the most concentrated and luxurious expression of Jicky. Dense, golden, and intimate, it revealed the fragrance’s animalic warmth and vanilla-laden amber base in its fullest form. A few drops on the pulse points would unfold slowly, revealing the complex layers of lavender, civet, and tonka with unmatched depth. The Parfum Spray offered this same intensity in a more modern, portable format — a reflection of the jet-set era’s need for glamour on the go. The Eau de Toilette balanced lightness and strength, emphasizing Jicky’s aromatic and citrus elements, while the Eau de Cologne and Spray Cologne were refreshing interpretations, ideal for liberal application. These lighter versions highlighted the lemon and bergamot in the opening, carrying the composition’s lively brightness without losing its elegant core of herbs and amber.
The Film Spray Parfumé represented the innovation of the era — a fine mist that left a delicate perfumed veil on the skin, hair, or clothing. It was airy yet lasting, echoing Jicky’s characteristic duality of freshness and warmth. Capillaque, a perfumed hair preparation, was another reflection of 1960s beauty rituals; it added sheen and softness to the hair while diffusing the fragrance subtly with every movement, ensuring that the wearer was enveloped in scent from crown to toe.
Bath and body products completed this olfactory experience. The Bath Oil transformed bathing into an indulgent ritual — the warm water releasing aromatic vapors of lavender, citrus, and amber, softening the skin and leaving behind a faint, sensual trace. The Crème Hydratante, or moisturizing cream, layered the fragrance with a tender texture, enhancing longevity while keeping the skin supple. The Déodorant, infused with the classic Jicky aroma, ensured freshness while maintaining the perfume’s sophisticated signature — even in the most mundane daily routines. The Talc, softly scented, added a powdery refinement to the ritual, lightly dusting the skin in fragrance while evoking the tactile luxury of Guerlain’s vintage grooming products.
Perhaps the most charming of all was the Flanelle pour le linge — a perfumed flannel for linens. This product carried Jicky’s distinctive scent into one’s wardrobe or dressing table, lending clothes and linens the refined aura of the fragrance itself. It reflected Guerlain’s understanding that perfume was not merely worn, but lived with — that its beauty should linger in every gesture and fabric, in every corner of a private world.
Together, these products formed a universe of Jicky, where the fragrance could be experienced in varying intensities and textures — a rare cohesion of tradition and modern luxury. Whether as a delicate mist or a richly anointed parfum, Jicky’s presence in the late 1960s and 1970s remained unmistakably elegant: timeless, witty, and quietly sensual, much like the woman (or man) who chose to live within its aura.
Together, these materials — natural and synthetic in perfect accord — create a perfume that feels at once spontaneous and eternal. The synthetics, particularly vanillin and coumarin, heighten the natural facets rather than replace them, polishing the raw materials into an idealized form. Where nature gives sensuality, the synthetic brings clarity; where the earth gives depth, chemistry lends light. Jicky (1989) is thus not a mere echo of its 1889 ancestor, but a matured reflection — a sweet oriental symphony of citrus and amber, intellect and desire. Smelling it is like tracing a line through history: from the shimmer of the Belle Époque to the warmth of the late 20th century, still glowing with the quiet sophistication that has always made Jicky timeless.
Product Line:
By the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s, Guerlain’s Jicky line had evolved into an elegant, fully realized fragrance collection — a testament to the enduring sophistication and adaptability of one of the world’s most storied perfumes. This was a period when perfumery was becoming increasingly ritualized, and luxury houses like Guerlain sought to envelop their clientele in scent from head to toe. The Jicky range offered not only perfume but a complete sensory wardrobe, each product designed to express a different facet of the fragrance’s complex personality — from its brisk aromatic top to its warm, sensual base.
At the heart of the collection was the Parfum, the most concentrated and luxurious expression of Jicky. Dense, golden, and intimate, it revealed the fragrance’s animalic warmth and vanilla-laden amber base in its fullest form. A few drops on the pulse points would unfold slowly, revealing the complex layers of lavender, civet, and tonka with unmatched depth. The Parfum Spray offered this same intensity in a more modern, portable format — a reflection of the jet-set era’s need for glamour on the go. The Eau de Toilette balanced lightness and strength, emphasizing Jicky’s aromatic and citrus elements, while the Eau de Cologne and Spray Cologne were refreshing interpretations, ideal for liberal application. These lighter versions highlighted the lemon and bergamot in the opening, carrying the composition’s lively brightness without losing its elegant core of herbs and amber.
The Film Spray Parfumé represented the innovation of the era — a fine mist that left a delicate perfumed veil on the skin, hair, or clothing. It was airy yet lasting, echoing Jicky’s characteristic duality of freshness and warmth. Capillaque, a perfumed hair preparation, was another reflection of 1960s beauty rituals; it added sheen and softness to the hair while diffusing the fragrance subtly with every movement, ensuring that the wearer was enveloped in scent from crown to toe.
Bath and body products completed this olfactory experience. The Bath Oil transformed bathing into an indulgent ritual — the warm water releasing aromatic vapors of lavender, citrus, and amber, softening the skin and leaving behind a faint, sensual trace. The Crème Hydratante, or moisturizing cream, layered the fragrance with a tender texture, enhancing longevity while keeping the skin supple. The Déodorant, infused with the classic Jicky aroma, ensured freshness while maintaining the perfume’s sophisticated signature — even in the most mundane daily routines. The Talc, softly scented, added a powdery refinement to the ritual, lightly dusting the skin in fragrance while evoking the tactile luxury of Guerlain’s vintage grooming products.
Perhaps the most charming of all was the Flanelle pour le linge — a perfumed flannel for linens. This product carried Jicky’s distinctive scent into one’s wardrobe or dressing table, lending clothes and linens the refined aura of the fragrance itself. It reflected Guerlain’s understanding that perfume was not merely worn, but lived with — that its beauty should linger in every gesture and fabric, in every corner of a private world.
Together, these products formed a universe of Jicky, where the fragrance could be experienced in varying intensities and textures — a rare cohesion of tradition and modern luxury. Whether as a delicate mist or a richly anointed parfum, Jicky’s presence in the late 1960s and 1970s remained unmistakably elegant: timeless, witty, and quietly sensual, much like the woman (or man) who chose to live within its aura.
Bottles:
Throughout its long and illustrious history, Jicky was not only celebrated for its trailblazing scent but also for the elegance and variety of its bottles, each one a reflection of Guerlain’s evolving aesthetic and the artistic sensibilities of its era. The perfume’s presentation told a story parallel to its fragrance — one of refinement, innovation, and enduring style.
The earliest version of Jicky appeared in the Carré flacon, a simple square bottle used for the parfum. This form echoed late 19th-century restraint, emphasizing clean lines and clarity — a vessel meant to highlight the amber liquid within rather than compete with it. It was a fitting introduction for a perfume that balanced classical structure with daring modernity.
1935 ad and 1938 ad
1951 ad
Through the 20th century, Jicky continued to appear in a range of exquisite flacons, each capturing the design language of its time. The Borne flacon (1931–1960s), with its column-like shape and architectural shoulders, exuded Deco elegance — a perfume column crowned with understated authority. The cobalt blue glass Lanterne flacon (1935–1943), aptly named for its lantern-like silhouette, introduced a touch of romantic whimsy to Jicky’s visual identity, its design diffusing light like the soft glow of evening through glass.
The Guerre flacon (1938–1945) reflected the austerity and practicality of wartime France, a period when materials and aesthetics leaned toward restraint but still retained a sense of dignity. By contrast, the Opaline flacon (1951–1956) ushered in postwar optimism — a luminous bottle of milky, opalescent glass suggesting refinement and renewal. The Parapluie flacon (1952–1979) offered a more modern practicality, designed for ease of use while maintaining elegance, its name (“umbrella”) perhaps alluding to its protective and portable nature. Finally, the Amphore flacon (1955–1982), with its gracefully elongated form and classical frosted contours, brought a sense of ancient beauty to mid-century femininity — a timeless amphora filled with golden essence.
Alongside the parfums, Jicky’s lighter concentrations were housed in distinctive vessels that became as beloved as the fragrance itself. The Goutte flacon (1923–2001), used for the eau de toilette, was slender and teardrop-shaped, its simplicity reflecting both practicality and elegance. The Montre flacon (1936–1999), named for its resemblance to a pocket watch, contained the eau de cologne — a charming nod to the dapper ritual of men’s grooming, aligning with Jicky’s reputation as one of the first truly unisex scents. The flacon de Voyage (1955–2002) accompanied travelers, offering refinement and familiarity in a compact form, while the Bee bottle, Guerlain’s enduring emblem since 1853, appeared periodically across the line, linking Jicky to the house’s imperial heritage and to the timeless symbol of natural craftsmanship.
Even Jicky’s talc was given a design worthy of its name, housed in the satin finished Lyre bottle (1922–1960) — a vessel shaped like the classical instrument, symbolic of harmony, beauty, and lyricism. It was a fitting container for a powder that would leave the faintest, most poetic trail of the fragrance on skin.
Each of these bottles not only held the scent of Jicky but also served as a visual expression of Guerlain’s artistic evolution. From the rational purity of the Quadrilobe to the romantic curve of the Amphore, the line of flacons reflects how Jicky transcended time, adapting gracefully to each generation while never losing its essential character — a perfume of intellect and emotion, contained in glass that was itself a work of art.
Fate of the Fragrance:
- Top notes are lavender, bergamot and rosemary
- Middle notes are woody notes, rose, pelargonium and fern
- Base notes are opoponax, vanilla, tonka bean and woody notes
No comments:
Post a Comment