A Parisian press article from 1840 described La Pyrommée in breathless admiration: “The word is made up of Greek words, one of which means fire and the other, eye. So you will immediately understand that Pyrommée is nothing else than the secret of a fiery gaze. Once we have managed to bring the hair to shine and the complexion to glow, now, through this secret, we see the gaze—the soul of beauty and the unveiling of intelligence. This is certainly something that comes close to fame and glory.” The prose captures the era’s fascination with transformation and illusion—the desire not only to appear beautiful but to radiate inner vitality through the eyes themselves.
Despite its success, Pyrommée occupied a controversial place in nineteenth-century society. In an age when cosmetics were associated primarily with actresses and courtesans, respectable women risked scandal by using visible makeup. Yet Pyrommée was different: its dark, smoky trace along the lashes could be applied discreetly, a whisper of seduction rather than a declaration. It offered women a small rebellion against social restraint—a way to express power, mystery, and femininity through something as subtle as a glance.
By the 1950s, Guerlain quietly ended the sale of Pyrommée, closing a century-long chapter of beauty history. Still, its legend endures as one of Guerlain’s earliest and most enchanting creations—a cosmetic that turned not just heads, but hearts, with the promise of a “fiery gaze.”
L'Artiste, 1856:
"Fashion has its victims just as love does—one sacrifices to it with rapture. It asserts itself, dominates, and tyrannizes. It takes hold of everything. It begins with perfumery, extending even to furniture, draperies, and, astonishingly, to pastries. The “fashion of indulgence” has its charms, just as the perfumed fashions of Guerlain do—his Caprifolium, Violette des Bois, Verveine, Clématite, and all those English-style bouquets that form a graceful keepsake of ambrosia and honey in the kingdom of flowers.
Guerlain is more than a perfumer—he is a learned chemist. He has discovered the secret of selling eternal beauty and deceiving nature itself. He has studied ancient manuscripts and drawn from them talismans of coquetry: Rouge de la Reine, Rouge de Damas, Rouge Plessis; Crème Lis, Blanc de Perles, Paillé, Rosé and Demi-Rosé, and Poudre de Lis (Persian Powder of Lily) to whiten the skin. With all of Guerlain’s fragrant illusions, a daughter of Eve may rejuvenate herself and bestow upon her face a beauty all the more dangerous because it is not real.
The charm of that little black powder called Pyrommée, placed at the edge of the eyelids, is irresistible. Men know very well that such eyes are artificial, yet they are always ensnared by them—like naïve butterflies, drawn helplessly to the light and the sun."
All the Year Round, Volume 6 By Charles Dickens, 1862:
Thirdly, there is a fine black powder, delicately packed in small ivory cases and fitted with a tiny applicator at one end. Sold under the names Koheuil or Pyrommée, it is used to darken the eyelashes and the rims of the eyelids—intended, as the label boldly proclaims, “to render the glances most provoking.”
Les Coulisses de la Mode, 1888:
"The profession of ladies’ hairdresser is no longer as lucrative or as dazzling as it was under the Second Empire, because social life has remained stagnant for many years. Nevertheless, the art of hairdressing has not declined, thanks to the schools to which we will soon turn our attention. A ladies’ hairdresser charges five francs for an ordinary city or dinner hairstyle, which requires only a few crimped sections, bands, or a braid. A ball hairstyle, which demands the use of flowers or feathers in the hair, costs between fifteen and twenty francs. A powdered hairstyle is paid at twenty to thirty francs, a historical hairstyle at thirty to forty, and finally, a fancy or costume hairstyle rises from forty to fifty francs.When there is a grand ball at the home of the Princess de S., for example, one must make an appointment long in advance to be styled by a well-known hairdresser. The latter schedules his clients every half hour. On the appointed day, he gets into his carriage and arrives at his first client’s home at two in the afternoon; twenty-five minutes are enough for him to construct even the most elaborate hairstyles, for he has prepared in advance all the accessories he will need. It is quite common that by eleven o’clock at night, he still has one or two clients left to attend to. The ladies’ hairdresser does not limit himself to styling hair—he also applies makeup. This is what he calls bringing harmony to the face: a very light stroke of pencil to make the eyebrows appear thicker, darker, and to add brilliance to the eyes; a barely perceptible touch of Pyrommee powder to veil eyelids that are red or puffy; a drop of rose extract to give the lips a lasting color that does not fade when drinking, eating, using a handkerchief, or simply running the tongue over the lips. Sometimes, the hairdresser goes even further—he colors, in the same manner, the inside of his client’s nostrils or ears."
"My dear Lena, you asked me to see about some small articles de toilette. So I went to Guerlain's and this is what he suggests for you. An etui of Pyrommee for the eyes, it certainly makes one's eyes look better and is quite harmless. It contains a little India rubber tampon that you pass gently under and over your eyelashes, but before using it, blow off the black that is too thick or you will have too much on and look as if you had two lovely black eyes. It undoubtedly gives brilliancy to the eyes and does not show in the least, I use it as well for my eyebrows, the least little soupcon and I am sure you have never noticed it. To keep your powder on, there is one famous article from Guerlain's called Creme Patti. The Comtesse de B. always uses it and she is certainly the best arranged woman in France. You put it on all over your face and rub it well in. Don't think it is greasy for it is not. Her face never looks hot or greasy. Then you wipe it off with a soft towel and put your powder on lightly. If you want any rouge, and if you are feeling tired or ill, it is sometimes necessary try lip salve on your cheeks, tout bonnement, and a little powder on the top of it. Rouge gives such a hard expression I think, whereas lip salve no one can see. I defy them to find you out, and one hates one's little secrets to be revealed to the world. I ordered you yards of Heliotrope flannel to put in the wardrobes and also on your bodies as sachet powder invariably comes out and makes a dust. A new perfume called Nice Dear. I thought irresistible. In France, we adopt a perfume and stick to it. One's scent is really part of one's self. l am sure you will like Nice Dear enough to wish not to change again, and that you will find with the Creme Patti and the Poudre de Blanc de Perles, the lip salve, and the black for your eyes, time and weather are naught to you, Lena dear, I swear secrecy, no torture could wrench this secret from my lips,"
Österreichischer Bühnen-Verein, 1895:
“Pyrommee, when applied between the eyelids, gives the eye a captivating look and a phenomenal shine. Price per piece: 3 florins.”
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